#did you get the Dio reference I hid in there?

[yeets-ix]

DIAMOND CUTTERS/CRACKED DIAMOND AU HEADCANONS PART 1: SLINGER (AND SLANGLE)

JUMPSCARE! YOU'RE ABOUT TO GET A CRAP TON OF HEADCANONS FOR THE DIAMOND CUTTERS AND MY SILLY CLUSTER OF AUS ABOUT THEM! RAREPAIR AND OBSCURE CHARACTER ENJOYERS, GET YOUR FOOD!

First up, the flirty gender pilled ocelot with the gay little gun tricks!

Slinger Headcanons:

they're genderfluid and transfem (partly because I thought she was a girl when Mimic first shapeshifted into her.) This also means shipping them with Tangle is still yuri (important.) I dub her they/she + "gun" as a neopronoun for fun. Also let her wear whatever clothes they want.

She's also Mexican/Central American! Very clear accent, occasionally splices Spanish words into their dialogue, much like Tangle’s now-agreed-upon Italian. Says “Vamos!”, “Dios mio!” and “Que?” a lot. Also insults Badniks and other opponents in Spanish.

Pansexual apocalypse, easily INTENSELY flustered, they had a stupid celebrity crush on Sonic before the betrayal/actually meeting anyone. (Old idea I’m keeping alive, heck, maybe have another sub-AU for that.) Then in her “survivor” timeline, she finally meets Tangle and the epic 100k idiots to lovers slowburn yuri is real.

They’re EXTREME ADHD. She juggles, she keeps at least two fidget spinners on hand always, she needs to toss and twirl things or he’ll explode. She and Whisper and Tangle stim together a lot.

Backstory! The “mysterious past” reference doesn’t exist if I don’t look at it, so she and Claire were actually sibling-dynamic friends as far back as Slinger can remember, having grown up together in a jungle treehouse village. (Definitely didn’t come up with that just because ocelots and howler monkeys live in the same place, haha.) Things happened in the Forces war, next thing you know they both met Smithy (and soon after Whisper) and were inducted into the mercenary found family.

THEY’RE A CAT. Younger than Big and wayyyy more impulsive than Blaze, they do MANY MANY CAT THINGS. They have whiskers, they’re a liquid, they lick themself clean, they act like it’s daytime when it’s pitch black out, they miiiiiight have eaten a couple of mice, they purr when rubbed, all of it. This is also how you tell her apart from Duo, who is a fake cat and clueless to cat behavior.

Slinger, past and present, is still super cool and suave in battle, but a complete and utter LOSER in casual times, more than Claire, more than Whisper, they're such a fucking girlfail

They were definitely the “kid” of the team, moreso even than Whisper. They pulled pranks, did stupid stunts, and worried Claire and Smithy sick. In the timeline where they survived, they were VERY okay on their own! So utterly okay!

AU-Specific Headcanons:

They were never “shut-in” as the Guardian Angel - they still tried their best to act cool and suave, in spite of the anxiety below. They completely hid their appearance beneath masks and hoods, but still taunted and quipped at their adversaries and would sometimes talk rather openly to Resistance members lucky enough to interact with them long enough, though still never giving any context to who she was or what her deal was - or a clear view of his real face.

She wouldn’t use the same Wispon as canon Whisper - a gigantic rifle just isn’t their style. Instead, she’s gotten a lot better at physical combat to compensate for it - she managed to teach herself to Spin Attack, and can even do a crazy "Panjandrum" move where they fire their laser guns wildly while rolling. They’re decently fast now, but not as fast as any “speedster” character - think more like Amy, Tails, or heck, a realistic interpretation of the Forces Avatar.

They talk to their Wisps a lot. She constantly feels alone and doesn't want to be, and forever thanks Smithy for giving them a way to always talk to their companions somehow. She needs people to talk to, she really does, heck, give her a bit of a Yakko Warner complex if you want. Fortunately, Tangle logically helps with that a lot.

They FIRMLY saw Mimic as a father figure, and are FUCKING PISSED at him for stabbing and discarding everything they had. Him fucking around IMMEDIATELY cuts off Slinger's silly goofy mode and activates IMMA FIRIN MA LAZAH mode.

In Slinger’s timeline, Mimic’s Duo disguise was the feminine-androgynous “Duo the Hound,” using Whisper as the basis. Slinger got to pistol-whip him repeatedly and then dump him into the sea, don’t worry.

Tangle in this timeline is… girl-leaning panromantic. Blaze cemented her queer awakening, but Slinger, whose gender is fucked as hell, is the one she fell for hard. Slinger would get VERY worried about whether she feels the same towards them or not, but it doesn't matter what's in their legs or their head to Tangle - they're Slinger.

Slinger’s love language turns out to be the same as Tangle’s - doing stupid and dangerous things to impress her crushes. Ultimately Jewel and Lanolin have to LOUDLY tell them that they’re in love with each other and should kiss and go out on a date before they both get themselves killed beating around the bush. (That, or they just full-on kiss at the conclusion of Urban Warfare or even the Metal Virus, considering Slinger is much more open.)

Slinger is just as willing and encouraging to talk to Tangle about her fears as vice versa, in a direct manner at least. It is not “moon gets hurt and sun comforts her,” they’re kinda both cloud-obscured suns who goof off but also traumadump to each other.

Slinger can cook and prepare Mexican cuisine just fine. Them trying to cook anything else results in a kitchen-sized laser explosion (don't even ask how.) Their food living together basically amounts to alternating Mexican and Italian with Tangle occasionally baking something she found online in between.

Tangle comforts or supports Slinger whenever they have gender issues, she figured out they were genderfluid basically the moment they got the chance to try new clothes. Slinger silently, awkwardly asked her if she could try on a really twirly dress and she was just so understanding and said they looked absolutely beautiful and AGHHHHHHHHHHHH and now it’s their girly comfort outfit.

tangle is significantly taller than slinger. height difference. (slinger is significantly taller than sonic though lol, big tangle supremacy)

Slinger and Tangle cuddle super tight and warm and fall asleep together BOTH PURRING do you get my vision

Big headcanon posts for the other Cutters and their sub-AUs coming at some point.

[kokoronbain]

Hello! I couldn't help but be curious about your ocs' names: How did you come up with Divania (Fell!Paloma), Carmeni (Horror!Paloma), and Blanca (Mafia!Paloma)? What do their names mean? 0w0

Oh! Thank you for your curiosity!!

A reminder before starting: As a LM3 Alts, they are all called Paloma but as an apart character (in a different media other than LM3), Paloma isn't their name anymore!

Now let's see why I've choosen their new names =

• Divania: She is called like that as the moment when I wanted to make her as an apart character, precisely in Miitopia!

In my fucked-up crossover JOJO X Mario series related, she was called Diana aka DIA since she played as Dio Brando in this crossover

But due to her story, I wanted a spanish name related to angel, purity or something like that... And then I discovered 'Divania' which means "Divine" and it fits perfectly to her personality and how she feels about herself!

• Carmení: She already had that alt name when I created her. And for reminder, it was actually the rose on her eye which was called like that (or else the rose was nicknamed La Cosa).

I wanted a red name in spanish. Here it means "Crimson"..... and actually in spanish it's 'Carmesí'. There is no n 💀

I discovered my mistake very lately but I've decided to keep it anyway. I imagine that Carmení didn't realise that and get used to say like that since... let's just say that made her unique lol

• Blanca: Already used that name too when I created her. As a LM3 alt, it's her fake name, hidding her real one. You can write Blanca or Bianca btw, she doesn't care x')

As for why I've choosen this name, I wanted something which doesn't look like 'Paloma' since she hides this name and I wanted to make a reference to her usual weapons, which are daggers and even her sharp feathers.

In french, there is a term "Armes blanches" ("White weapons") which means basically sharp weapons (such as knife, dagger etc....) so from "blanche", I put in spanish and saw the name 'Blanca' means not only 'white' but also 'shining' which fits to her daggers hehe.

[fablewritesnonsense]

Welcome to the Pizzaplex

Chapter 2

Daycare: Day One

Felix has his first day in the daycare, and meets Moon for the first time...

While Felix unpacked his bag, Sun managed to get back into the Attendant's room without him noticing, and sat on the edge of the balcony kicking his feet and watching Felix. He found this a little unnerving as it was an eight-to-ten foot robot but he did have a nephew that liked to follow him around when he was home, so as long as he didn't look up he was fine.

He still had another month before school started in earnest so he pulled out his iPad pro and began drawing. Just more things to add to his portfolio. The daycare was bright and colorful and full of round things, so he started taking it down as a reference. Maybe it would make a good background for an advertisement or something for class.

Eventually, they could hear the sound of small children and Sun hid in the Attendant's room. One by one, all the tots came down the slide and landed with giggles in the ball pit. They swam around and tossed the soft balls at each other until a small buzzer sounded and Sun strode out.

"Hello friends!" Sun called out, and the children cheered as he took a dive off the balcony and into the balls. Somehow he managed to disappear, then the children got yanked under with giggling screams.

Felix's hand moved towards his walkie as the last two were pulled under, then Sun burst out of the pool in a spray of balls. The horde of giggling toddlers in his arms. Felix sighed in relief as Sun deftly climbed out of the pool and deposited the children gently on the ground in a little kiddie-pile. They rolled around, giggling, and clamoring off of each other.

"Alrighty friends!" Sun said, waving his hands as the kids all got to their feet. "We have a new friend with us! That's Felix! Behind the security desk! If you have an emergency, go get him! If you don't and just want to play, ask and make sure he's not busy first! He's busy busy busy!" Suns arms sped up their wiggling as he said this and the kids giggles. "Now, let's turn around and give Felix a big Daycare welcome. One, two- Mason don't pick your nose in the daycare, it's not clean or nice to our friends- three!"

And as one, Sun and the kids spread their arms out wide and waved their hands, yelling, "WELCOME FELIX!" Felix sighed and stood on his chair and waved at them, and they all cheered, thankfully dispersing and not paying attention as the chair wheeled out from under him and he busted his ass on the ground. Why wasn't the security booth kid-proofed too?

"Are you okay friend?" Sun asked from above him, and Felix looked up to see Sun's face inches from his.

"¡Dios mio!" Felix yelled, scrambling back. Sun jumped back, equally startled. "Sorry, just, wasn't expecting you there. Yeah I'm fine."

"Oh, good!" Sun said, grabbing him by the arm and effortlessly pulling him to his feet as if he weighed nothing. "Don't want our new friend to get hurt!" With that he bounced off and began playing hide and seek with the kids.

Felix was left more than a little shaken by the encounter, but got everything sorted again and continued on, keeping one eye on the playground. ***

When Sun started putting the kids down for naptime, Felix pulled out his book. He hadn’t realized when packing just how close he was going to be to the kids, so bringing “the Kraken’s Sacrifice” hadn’t been his smartest move. He’d have to bring something else tomorrow…

“What’s that?” Sun asked, and Felix became very aware of Sun hovering over him. He took a deep breath as the lights lowered a little bit. He looked up into Sun’s big white eyes, and contemplated explaining the concept of tentacle porn to the bot.

He knew it was possible to corrupt bots on a programming level, but could he corrupt their innocence as well?

“It’s, uh, an adult book, for adults…” Felix said.

“Is this your homework?” Sun asked.

“No, but it’s part of my side job,” Felix replied. “I run a podcast with my roommate about books.” Sun’s rays did a little wave around his head as he cocked it to the side.

“What do you talk about?” He asked. Felix blinked. He’d bene preparing to explain the concept of a podcast to the bot.

“You… know what a podcast is?” he asked. Sun nodded enthusiastically. “Freddy has one! It’s motivational!” Felix laughed.

“Of course he does, why wouldn’t he?” He said. “Well, it’s called- actually it doesn’t matter what it’s called. We just talk about how the cover of books lined up with the contents of the book. Cause there’s the phrase, never judge a book by its cover?” Last thing he needed was Sun listening to his podcast and hearing about all the raunchy novels he and Lennox had read.

“Oh! You’re a graphic student!” Sun said. “It’s in your file!” Felix frowned.

“My file?” he asked.

“Yes! Vanessa uploaded your file to me just after we opened!” He said.

“Do the other bots have my file?” Felix asked, making a mental note to figure out who Vanessa was later.

“Nope! Just me! Cause you’re my friend!” Sun said. Felix nodded.

“Cool, cool, uh, the kids are getting restless,” he said, pointing at the kids. Sun looked over and his shoulders dropped for a moment.

“Well, we can have fun later,” Sun said. “Friend, do me a favor. Stay behind the desk until the lights turn back on.” Felix opened his mouth to ask why, but the lights went out, and the desk was lit only by the screen behind Felix, and he noticed in the reflection of the computer, that the picture of sun switched to Moon as the bot did a backbend off the desk.

“Hey, you good?” Felix asked. Then Moon popped over the desk, his red eyes staring into Felix’s brown eyes. Felix bit back a scream, he’d never liked red eyed creatures.

“I’m very good, Felix, what a pleasure to meet you,” Moon said. “I look forward to working with you…” it said before skittering off into the play area. Felix nodded and looked down at his book.

“Mierda, what did you get yourself into…?” He asked himself. ***

Lennox was on their souped up laptop when he got home, and gave him a once over as he walked in.

“So?” they asked.

“Sun’s cool, Moon is terrifying,” he replied. “Also, I’m so glad nobody in our group likes arcades. That fucking DJ almost made me shit myself.” Lennox laughed and shook their head, looking back to their laptop.

“Oh, since you weren’t able to see, “By Its Cover” hit number one in the literature charts on Apple Podcasts,” they said. Felix’s jaw dropped.

“¡No me digas!,” he gasped. Lennox shook their head and turned the laptop around. Sure enough, there they were.

“That’s intense!” He said, climbing onto the couch. Lennox nodded and turned the laptop back to themself.

“And, we’re in the top ten LGBT+ podcasts on Spotify,” they said. “It’s only up from here buddy.” Felix grinned and nodded.

“We need to party this weekend, to celebrate!” he said. Lennox smiled and nodded. “Want me to arrange us a party at the pizzaplex?” he teased. That earned him a dirty look.

If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a like and a comment here, and also consider clicking on the header link to leave a kudo and comment on AO3 linked in the heading! Maybe even bookmark it and subscribe to my account? You'll get notifications when I post updates!

Have a wonderful day!

[anongalactic]

@carryingstarlightinherwake thank u for wonderful additions to this post!!? this part in particular sprouted some more thoughts so I'm gonna use this as a jumping off point. This does start delving into spoiler territory, so i highly recommend you and anyone reading this to read PHF if you haven't yet! It's an amazing read and I'd love to see more indepth conversation about it.

Something i don't think people who haven't read PHF don't know about is that one major part of the novel is pointing out Giorno for his hypocrisy, as well as his less than stellar morality. It's something I've seen no posts about when it comes to PHF discussions, and I think looking at the last few of these highlighted tags does a great job at showing that. Ofc I wouldn't expect people who haven't read the book to know what happens in it, but this is also something I see people who HAVE read the book seemingly never bring up either!

Giorno, realistically, would not have let Bruno or anyone retire from their duties. He would not have put Trish's well being as a priority, and him being involved in her life at all even in an ideal "everyone lives AU" would still be a huge problem. In the text there are numerous moments comparing Giorno to Diavolo, particularly in reference to his conduct as Don and his actions during Part 5 to reach that position. There's a passage very early on that talks about how Giorno's rise to power is nearly identical to what Diavolo did, targetting one specific issue to gain trust and slowly gain his authority. My particular favorite passage talks about how Giorno makes no efforts to refute Diavolo's actions,that the leading rumor amongst the ranks is that Giorno has been don the whole time. They think the reason The Boss ™ hid his identity is because of Giorno being so young. That no one has noticed any significant changes within Passione's functions aside from it just getting insanely more powerful.

It's also revealed towards the end that the Speedwagon Foundation has been working with Giorno solely to keep an eye on him, especially once Massimo's plans with the stone mask are uncovered. They dont trust him, no one does. Ultimately, Giorno's motivations fall perfectly in line as a combination of his fathers, Jonathan's "everything for the greater good" + Dio's "attain power at all costs" attitude = Giorno's "I must attain power at all costs because it's for the greater good." Giorno believes in the ends justify the means, that no matter who has to die for his golden dream then it will be noble and worth it.

All this aside, the original point im trying to make here is that Giorno truly doesn't have as much compassion for his former teammates as some would like to think. I think the most telling thing i could share here is this excerpt from the very beginning of the book.

Fugo has been dragged into a stadium and held at gunpoint by Mista, on Giorno's orders, to give him one chance to redeem himself. The issue is not that he betrayed Passione, it's that by leaving that day he betrayed Giorno. Mista even taunts him at the beginning, claiming he's trying to see if he'll snap so he can just kill him then and there. Fugo is wanted either loyal to Giorno, or dead. Fugo is the final loose thread, and either he'll conform or he'll be cut-off. I think thats pretty on the nose about how Giorno treats his former teammates.

Shoutout to Trish for getting the fuck away from Passione IMMEDIATELY in PHF. She was arguably the most victimized by what happened and she said "Fuck this I'm out!" Cut contact with everyone and finally got to live her life away from that endless cycle of violence and abuse. Which makes me even more frustrated when I see posts about her interacting with members of the gang afterwards, cause its always her being super outright friendly to them. It just feels so out of character! Let her be angry! Let her be resentful! Hell, just let her be awkward and unsure, let there be tension there. It doesn't matter that Bruno's gang protected her when really the only ones who were actually invested in her directly (no ulterior motives, Giorno im lookin at you) are gone. PHF does an amazing job at pointing out the flaws in every character, but the only one who doesn't have anything to criticize IS Trish. She can finally live her life freely, and the farther away she is from the gang the better. Let her have that closure, let her be free.

[mvrtaiswriting]

We were 18. - Jotaro Kujo.

Me?? Posting something about Jotaro?? How strange. This piece of work is also dedicated to two of my comfort characters, Kakyoin and Joseph. This artwork is really important to me, it really holds a special place in my heart so.. enjoy! 

Neutral reader x Jotaro Kujo

Jojo’s bizzare adventures: Stardust Crusaders (spoilers)

AU

SFW | fluff 

Trigger warning: usual jojo violence, reference to grief, insomnia.

Word count: 1760.

The ‘continue reading’ button is there for space purposes, to make the reader avoid any possible spoiler and/or sensible topics.

Hi! Are you a new reader? Check my masterlist for more content!

Please feel free to reblog or leave a comment :) help me support my art (it’s free!),

© bearing in mind everything I post/write is my intellectual property so please don’t steal/copy and paste and post it as yours.

Since you returned from your tumultuous trip in Egypt, your life has never been the same. Once you came back to your hometown, not a moment passed by when you didn’t remember the terrible scenes you’ve witnessed during the fight with Dio. The memory of Kakyoin’s death was still so vivid in your mind and the more you tried to shake that thought out of your head, the more you kept reliving it – over and over again.

There were times when you swore you saw Kakyoin among a crowd of people; times when you could just hear his voice calling your name. Every time you closed your eyes Avdol, Kakyoin and Iggy were there. You barely slept anymore – most of the times you did so, you had nightmares about what happened in El Cairo. You lost count of how many nights you have spent crying in your bed, curled up in between your sheets in the silence of your lonely house. Living alone didn’t help; you were used to sneak into one of the crusaders’ room whenever you needed a shoulder to cry on or, simply, a place where you could feel safe. It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up squished between Kakyoin and Jotaro or trapped in one of Joseph bear-hugs. But now, you were thousands of kilometres away from the rest of the group, alone in your cold bedroom. There was no one to go to, and no one you could talk about how you felt. It was just you and your painful memories. No one would understand what you’ve been through – how could they? How could you ever explain how intense the 50 days you spent with the crusaders had been?

Another nightmare woke you up, as per usual. You gasped loudly as if you just started to breathe again after a long apnea and quickly sat down in the middle of your bed, holding onto your sheet. You started shaking as your chest moved up and down with rapid movements trying to catch your breath, tears streaming down your face. You were staring at the void in your pitch-dark room, trying to control your sobs and make yourself realise that you were back to reality. You stretched one of your arms to reach the lamp on your bedside table, curling yourself up while you slowly started to calm down. Wiping out the tears from your cheeks with your jumper’s sleeve, you finally dragged yourself out of bed and slowly went to the kitchen, making yourself some tea.

As you sat down to drink your hot beverage hoping it would bring you some comfort, you started to rehearse your dream - as if you could just replay it in your head as one would normally do with songs or movies. It wasn’t very different from any other dreams you had.

Kakyoin’s body was lying lifeless against the roof Dio had thrown him onto, his expression crippled by the excruciating pain he must have felt. An enormous wound had completely swept away part of his body, leaving a big opening in the middle of it. You were screaming at him at the top of your lungs, begging him to spare the last bit of energy he had left in his body. But the ending was the same every damn time; he would use his last breath to reveal to Joseph the secret of The world, Dio’s Stand, and launch his last attack with Emerald Splash. You woke up every time you tried to reach Kakyoin’s body. You were never able to say goodbye to him -  not even in your dreams. The same thing happened with Avdol and Iggy too. You never got the chance to see them one last time, because you were busy fighting elsewhere.

You sighed loudly, stopping yourself from having another breakdown and sipping some tea from your cup. It was in that exact moment, that the phone rang. It was 3:00 AM where you lived, so you expected one of the boys to be on the other end of the telephone. You and the rest of the crusaders exchanged your numbers the last time you saw each other at the airport and had kept in contact ever since. To your surprise, the person you talked the most was Jotaro. You were about the same age and had created a strong bond during your trip, even if you would have never bet on it. Kakyoin used to always joke about your crush on Jotaro, always encouraging you to give it a shot. But things turned out to be too frenetic and dangerous to engage any sort of romantic relationship. Despite that, you would never miss a chance to sit next to each other or just spend most of the time together. The two of you even kissed at one point, but never talked about it again – not even during your strangely long phone calls.

Crawling your feet on the floor of your kitchen, you got up and finally answered the phone: “Hello?”

“Hey.” Jotaro’s deep voice replied. “How come you’re awake? It’s late where you are.” he added.

“You called. Is this a good excuse?” you said lightly laughing, trying to hide the sadness in your voice.

When the sun rose, you were still talking to Jotaro. He asked you about your dream – he knew about your insomnia and your recurring nightmares and just wanted to be there for you. He wasn’t the best at comforting, and most of the time he never dared to say a word; but you knew it was a sensible topic for him too, and the fact that he would let you confide in him was more than enough.

“It’s a big deal for me too.” he said. You just hummed, allowing him to talk freely about what was going on inside his head – and heart. “Sometimes I can barely breathe. I just wish everything was over.” he cut short, clearing his throat immediately after finishing his sentence. Hearing those words from him just broke your heart; he always showed himself as a cold, calm and collected person and never allowed his emotions to have the best of him. He could often come off as an emotionless brute, but you knew it was all a façade that hid a more sensible and soft side of him. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, only broken by the sound of your breaths. “Don’t hang up.” you said ultimately, letting out a big sigh.

“I won’t. I’m here.” His voice replied, sounding velvet through the telephone.

--

The plane landed after what felt like an eternity, the flight from your country took countless hours to arrive in Japan. At the airport, a member of the Speedwagon foundation was waiting for you, Holly standing next to him. As soon as you got closer to them, Holly quickly fell into your arms, hugging you tightly. ‘I’m so glad you’re here!’ she squeaked, while cupping your cheeks in her hands and showering you with affection. You let out an embarrassed laugh, and after that warm welcome you finally reached the car. You seated in the backseat, tiredly resting your head against the window of your car’s door. You took a quick look at the clock and closed your eyes, trying to get some rest.

When you arrived, Holly gently woke you up. The car was parked in front of the Kujo’s residence, the place where it all started. A fast sequence of memories flashed in front of your eyes as you meticulously watched the house in front of you, remembering exactly how you felt when you arrived the first time, and how you felt when you left. Holly placed and hand on your shoulder and nodded, indicating to you Jotaro’s room. “He wasn’t in a great mood today, he hasn’t been in a while” she said hopelessly. “Just excuse him if he speaks to you rudely.” she added, feeling sorry for the harsh manners her son always displayed. You reassured her smiling, before walking to his room.

Once you stood in front of his door, your heart started beating so loud. A part of you was dying to see the boy you heart belonged to, the other was afraid to see him broken into pieces. But that was the reason why you went there in the first place. You didn’t want to leave him alone anymore. He needed a shoulder to cry on as much as you did – maybe more, if it was possible. You had to be there.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. Heavy footsteps came your way before the door opened, revealing Jotaro’s figure towering over you.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing he-“ he tried to ask, before getting interrupted by your hug; you almost pushed yourself against his body, making him take a step back to not lose balance. You wrapped your arms around his strong torso, breathing in his perfume and holding him as close as humanly possible to you. Being in his arms felt like being at home – a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a while. It wasn’t long before Jotaro reciprocated your hug, hiding his face into your hair and leaving a soft kiss on your head. He closed the door behind you and just held you in his embrace, enjoying the wonderful feeling of being reunited with you. “You don’t know how much I missed you.” he said, not even trying to let you go. You hinted a small laugh, rubbing his muscled back with your right hand. “I can imagine.”, you replied. He slowly distanced himself from you, placing his hands over your cheeks, staring at you with his eyes full of tears. He was scanning every inch of your face and figure, almost as if he wanted to convince himself that you were real, that you were there. He rested his forehead on yours, locking his gaze on yours, making it impossible to break eye contact. “I don’t want to lose you anymore” you whispered. “You saved my life so many times, in so many ways. I always thought it was the wrong time, I always ran away from my feelings but..” you continued, but before you could finish your sentence, he quickly put his lips on yours – shutting you up with a kiss. You could feel tears running on his face. You grabbed the fabric of his shirt and pulled him closer to you, reciprocating the kiss.

“I have loved you since we were 18.” he whispered.

[kirieshhhka003]

Heyy! Couod you write hcs or whatever for the Crusaders with a reader who gets cold at night in the desert and uses that as a reason to cuddle up next to their crush for warmth?

Thank you for your request, my lovely anon💚

Crusaders x S/o who gets cold in a desert

Jotaro Kujo

Jotaro was sitting in front of the fireplace, his eyes closed. It was a tiring day, all crusaders were asleep, it was Jotaro’s turn to keep watch. When he felt something touching his side he really freaked out. Is it an enemy stand? How could he not notice it?

His whole body tensed up, he was ready to attack them in every moment. But when he finally opened his eyes he saw S/o’s arms wrapped around his torso. “The hell? What are you doing?” S/o looked a little frightened by Jotaro’s reaction, but they only tightened their grip and nuzzled into his shoulder

“It’s so cold, I can hardly feel my toes. I don’t want to wake others up, so can we stay like this for a little?” - Jotaro heard S/o’s quiet voice, he noticed how red their ears were, but he couldn’t say from what - cold or embarrassment

“Yare, yare...” - he responded as if he was annoyed by S/o’s actions, but by the way his cheeks started getting pink, they could say that he was embarrassed just as they were. He tightly embraced S/o with his one arm and a hid his pink face in their hair

Kakyoin Noriaki

It was a late night, everyone except Kakyoin was sleeping. He was just sitting near fireplace, watching little orange tales of fire dancing. He was thinking about everything that happened with him after he met Dio. How Jotaro saved him and the four of them started their trip to Egypt. How that met Polnareff, and S/o... oh, red-haired was especially fond of them, but what was this feeling? Friendships? Adoration? Or just simple attachment?

“Hey, why are you still awake?” Kakyoin heard something referring to him. When he looked at the person that was talking, he hardly could recognize S/o because of layers of clothes and blankets they were wrapped in. They sat next to him warming up their hands by fire. They looked at Kak with noticeable interest and he could see stars reflecting in their beautiful dark eyes

“Oh... I’m just thinking. A lot happened to us, right?” He smiled and looked at S/o. They smiled at him back and Kakyoin couldn’t take his eyes off of their beautiful face. “Can I... help you? You’re cold...” So chuckled quietly and responded “How can you help me, dummy?” They looked so precious that Kak’s poor heart skipped a few beats. He gently took S/o’s hands in his and slightly rubbed their fingers. Then he lifted them up to his face and carefully kissed their knuckles. Kakyoin looked S/o right in the eyes and it felt like the whole universe stopped, there were only two of them, the deseret and the stars in their eyes

Jean Pierre Polnareff

Polnareff almost fell asleep when he felt someone rubbing his shoulder, when he opened his eyes he saw S/o sitting in front of him. “Huh, what’s this, mon petit? Are you trying to romance me, mmmm?” A nasty smile appeared on Jean’s face, but when he saw how S/o were trembling, he got stuck for a moment. Are they scared of something? Is that an enemy attack? Or they just had a nightmare?

“What’s this, mon cher?” He cupped S/o’s face in his hands and felt that they were cold as ice. “I-it’s c-col-ld” quietly responded S/o, their voice was trembling and Jean could barely understand what they were saying

Polnareff immediately pulled them closer and pressed to himself, wrapping S/o up in blankets. When he finished, he hugged them tightly and whispered in their ear “It’ll be better like this, don’t you think so, dear?”

Mohammed Avdol

It was a hard day, everyone in a group was tired. Avdol felt like he’s gonna sleep for two days straight, but he was that tired that the couldn’t fall asleep. Sounds stupid? Yeah, it is. He was laying with his eyes closed, lost in his own thoughts when he felt someone slightly shaking his shoulder. “Avdol, are you sleeping?” He recognized S/o’s quiet soft whisper

Avdol opened his eyes and looked at S/o’s face. They looked cute - eyebrows were furrowed and nibbling on their bottom lip. “What is it?” He responded quietly, his voice was hoarse after not talking for that long. “Well... I’m cold, aand... umm...” It took a few moments for Avdol to understand what S/o were talking about, and when he finally did, he softly wrapped his arm around S/o and drew them towards himself

Avdol was so warm, like a sun. S/o nuzzled into the crook of Mohammed’s neck, they could smell a musky scent of his skin. A man tightened his grip on S/o, he didn’t say a word, but his lips curved in a soft smile as he felt their cold nose poking into his neck

Joseph Joestar

Something about S/o caught his eye and when he watched closely he noticed how much they were trembling, even despite they were wrapped in a few blankets

“Oh dear, look at yourself! You may catch a cold! Come here kiddo” he embraced S/o tightly and started rubbing their back and arms to help them warm up. When Holy was a kid he often got cold and Joseph was supposed to warm her with his hands and hugs, and, apparently, he missed this feeling of holding someone in his hands

They were sitting like this for some time and when Joseph heard S/o’s slow and deep breathing he smiled softly. Huh, they’re truly a child

Masterlist | Smut Masterlist

[catxmendoza]

a girl named chiqui.

self para. a prison in southern texas, six hours away from olympus.

tw. anxiety, death, grief, imprisonment, prison, mentions of murder, drug use

**ooc. any reference to mexican culture has been thoroughly researched, and the mun has also spoken with latinx, mexican and tejanx individuals to verify that references are handled in a respectful manner. of course, the mun is always open to suggestions, criticisms and directions.**

Her road trip was almost spontaneous.

She hadn’t been able to sleep since the explosion. Most of her nights in the past month had been spent tossing and turning until the sun came up and gave her a reprieve from her own head. Boxing didn’t help, neither did smoking or drinking or running. Her mind raced with thoughts, what ifs and memories she believed she had buried years ago. Every time she closed her eyes though, they struck her like lightening. Her mother’s smile, the smell of her abuela’s quilt draped over their couch, the sound of birds outside their kitchen window, even her father’s voice teaching her his many lessons about life. A waking dream, a nightmare, she wasn’t sure what she was suffering through, but that explosion had rattled her in more ways than one.

The memories became suffocating faster than she thought they would, until every other thought was drowned by her life from before it was ripped apart. Every memory was tied up in a chest-clenching feeling of anger and grief, shaking her to her core. There was no escaping it, no running or smoking or drinking it away until she was left numb. 

Cat hid her dilemma well enough, she thought, but behind closed doors she paced the floor with a joint in her hand just thinking. Her mother’s altar, situated in the far corner of her living room, seemed to mock her. It was ironic, considering she had set up that altar herself, and lit candles donning Jesús Malverde image just that morning. But every time Cat looked at it, she swore she could practically hear her mother’s voice whispering to her/

Go see him.

He would be worried.

He must be worried.

What are you afraid of, mi amor?

Everything. Catalina Mendoza, who marched around Olympus like she had hell on her heels and relished in it, was absolutely terrified. Of what, she wasn’t entirely sure, but she could feel it in her bones. Olympus was ripping itself apart and she had a feeling -call it a hunch- that when all was said and done, there wouldn’t be anyone to truly watch her back. No family to fall back on, no friends close enough to understand- mierda, not even her uncle would take her back after the shit she pulled. Knowing him, he’d let her get killed just to be done with it. There was no one... except him.

It was that thought that propelled her to her room, pulling out a duffle bag and some clothes for a couple days away. 

Cat was on the road to Texas the next morning. The first few hours were spent singing as loud as she could with her playlist - “ Amor prohibido murmuran por las calles!” - however the closer she got to her destination, the deeper the pit in her stomach became. She had been there once before, right after the funeral. It had been nothing but vicious words -from her- and silence -mostly him. She had sworn it would be the first and last time, and yet here she was, pulling up to a desolate looking building surrounded by towers and barbed wire lined fences. 

It probably wasn’t smart to walk into a prison, what with her activities in the past year, but she was mostly free of suspicion. If they were going to arrest her, they would have done so back in Louisiana. There was also the possibility that he just didn’t want to see her. She wouldn’t blame him. She sat in her car for a good twenty minutes staring at the entrance marked Visitors, trying to calm her racing heart and the swell of emotions in her chest. There was the strong urge to say fuck it and drive her six hours back to Olympus, Louisiana and forget about this entire thing, but something else, something just as strong, grounded her to the moment. Cat took a deep breath, and gave herself a determined look in the mirror.

“Get your shit together, Mendoza.” 

And she did. She got out of her car and walked into the prison before she could tell herself to turn around again. The sign in process was as brutal as she remembered it- metal detectors, pat downs, the bleak and stark reminder of her current circumstances. 

They herded her and a few others into the visitor’s hall, where plastic round tables sat with with two chairs on either side. Guards were stationed at every exit, and she could see cell bars from her view of the door where they kept the prisoners. She felt strangely exposed sitting there waiting, only idly listening to people reconnecting with their loved ones around her. Cat tried to tell herself that it was only a few minutes, but a part of her was already convinced that he wasn’t going to show up. He had made it clear the last time she visited that it should be her last, that he didn’t want her coming to see him for one reason or another. Those words had cut deep, especially considering she had just buried her mother. The one person she needed most in the entire world simply... gave up on her, and everything else for that matter.

Just when she was ready to get up and leave, the door opened once more and he appeared. It struck her how familiar his face was, yet he had changed. He was a little skinnier, and weathered. There were wrinkles and gray hairs that hadn’t been there the last time she saw him, and a full beard that only served to make him seem older. But he was still her Papá. 

He stopped short when his eyes landed on her, as if he had seen a ghost. There was no expression on his stony face, and she tried her best to keep hers still as well as she observed him. The orange jumpsuit was such a stark difference from the dark green overalls he used to wear whenever he worked on his truck, but then again, he was a different man than the person who came sit before her.

It was silent between them for a moment, with him staring at her and her staring at him It occurred to her that in the many nights that she had sent thinking about this visit and the hours she had driven there, she hadn’t once thought about what she would say when she finally sat in front of him. Hola didn’t seem appropriate, nor did It’s nice to see you, because frankly it wasn’t. There was so much she wanted to say, all flooding to the surface, she couldn’t decide which words mattered more. 

“Se supone que debes estar en mexico. [You’re supposed to be in Mexico.]” He said, quipped and to the point.

Catalina blinked at him for a moment, thrown by the statement. It had been 10 years since she had seen him, ten years without so much as a phone call to see how she was doing. And that was what he decided on? She couldn’t decide if she was angry, shocked, or completely exasperated with how typical it was of the big bad Sicario who plagued their city to demand things of her.

The drug dealer adjusted herself in her seat before she raised a brow at him. “Bueno, no lo estoy. [Well, I’m not.]”

“No jodas. [Don’t fuck around.]” He sounded tired, in no mood for whatever sarcasm would surely pour out of her mouth. She was his kid, no matter how much she liked to deny it every chance she could get. He knew her, even years later. “¿Tu Tío sabe que estás aquí? [Your Uncle know you’re here?]”

She shook her head. “No. We’re not really on speaking terms these days.”

“...Hm.”

He was silent again, looking at her from beneath scruffy brows and crows feet. She could see the remnants of laugh lines poking out from beneath his beard, remnants of a life he lived with her and her mama. She couldn’t imagine that he smiled much these days.

Catalina’s gaze went down to her hands, focusing on her dark nails and the scar that wound down around her wrist. The arm she had broken in the explosion was still a little skinny, but it was slowly returning to normal. She looked at him once more, pursing her lips. “Nosotros tuvimos un desacuerdo. [We had a disagreement.]”

He scoffed softly. “Tu Tío no tiene desacuerdos, los termina. [Your Uncle doesn’t have disagreements, he ends them.]” Carlos Luis leaned forward on her forearms, cocking his brow in a way Catalina did quite often. “¿Qué hiciste? [What did you do?]”

Of course, it was Catalina who did something. God forbid, Sebastian Ramirez ever take responsibility for anything, even when he wasn’t here. She scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “What did I do? Mierda, Carlos, diez años. Diez años y todavía estás defendiendo a Sebas como si fuera un santo o un Dios. [Shit, Carlos, ten years. Ten years and you’re still defending Sebas like he’s some kind of saint or God.]”

“Hey,” Carlos warned, low and in his throat. “¿Has venido desde donde sea que estuviste para discutir sobre tu tío? ¿Perder mi tiempo, perder el tuyo? [So you came all this way from wherever you been to argue about your uncle? Waste my time, waste yours?]”

Cat rolled her eyes, anger twisting her stomach in knots. “You know what, I don’t know why I even bothered-”

She stood up, fully prepared to march out of that room and never look back. She was only a few steps away when his voice cut through the air.

“Catalina.”

Her entire body froze as his voice echoed off the walls, drawing looks from people around them. For a moment she felt like a little kid again getting caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. As angry as he sounded, as angry as he was, he could never stay mad at her for long. This? This was different.

“Wait...” He said with a clear struggle and a heavy sigh. She turned back to look at him, taking in his sagging shoulders and the  “Por favor, sit down. [Please, sit down.]”

It took her a moment more to decide whether or not to stay. He gave her another imploring look, one that was mixed with irritation at her defiance.

“Por favor, Catalina.”

Cat sighed and begrudgingly slid back into her seat with knitted brows. They were silent again, stewing in their own anger and frustration like two petulant children. Usually, this was the time when her mother would demand a truce from them both. Stubborn is as stubborn does, she would claim, and damn, was she blessed with a husband and daughter with extremely hard heads.

Her mother would want them to get along. No matter how angry they were, no matter what they said before, she would want them to be okay. Even in their circumstances.

Carlos eyed her a moment, almost as if he were analyzing him. “¿Dónde te has estado guardando? [Where you been keeping yourself?]”

“Louisiana.” She answered, without digging into specifics. “Joined up with some associates there. They treat me good enough.”

He gave her a strange look. “Louisiana? ¿Qué diablos te traería a Louisiana? [What the hell would bring you to Louisiana?]”

She could try to rebuild the bridge she burned with him, at least. She had driven far enough, she might as well have something to show for it. Cat cleared her throat, not lifting her gaze to meet his eye. “I found them.” She confessed, earning a confused look from them. “Those men. Esos monstruos que se llevaron a mi mamá. [Those monsters who took my mother.]”

Carlos frowned deeply at her, the implications of what she was saying dawning on him. His eyes darted to the guard as he leaned forward. “¿Cómo? [How?]”

“Recibí una propina, seguí y terminé un estado. [I got a tip, followed up and wound up a state over.]” Cat told him in a low voice. “Sebas didn’t agree.”

“No, he wouldn’t. I don’t blame him.” Carlos clicked thoughtfully. “Si desentierras a los muertos, seguramente atraerás buitres. [You dig up the dead, and you're bound to draw vultures.]”

“Yeah, he said that same stupid shit. Did Abuelo tell you that?”

Instead of getting angry at her crassness, he actually chuckled. Instead of a smile though, his lips twisted into an almost snarl, as if the actual pained him. “Tu abuelo era un borracho y una amenaza. Nunca dijo nada significativo en su vida. [Your grandfather was a drunk and a menace. He never said anything meaningful in his life.]

“Like father, like son.”

Again, Carlos didn’t become enraged at the blatant disrespect. He just sat there, taking it in. Cat almost felt bad about the jabs, but a part of her liked how it felt to take out her frustration on him. The part of her that implicated him in her mother’s death and still, to this day, laid blame at his feet. It was his enemies, after all, who had come to kill him in the night and instead found she and her mother. Any memory she had of that night was nonexistent, she only knew what she was told. But it was enough to stir a fire of anger in her. 

“...No estoy de acuerdo con tu tío. [I don’t agree with your uncle.]” Carlos confessed with a weary look. “If I was free, if I had the chance...” He didn’t need to say it. If he was free, those men would have been dead years ago. If he had been free, they wouldn’t have even been memories, because that was how good he was at what he did. His skill, however, led him to where he was now. Widowed. Imprisoned for life. What he would have done was inconsequential. Carlos shook his head. “Tu madre querría que te impida hacer lo que creo que vas a hacer... [Your mother would want me to stop you from doing what I think you're gonna do...]

Cat scoffed. “I don’t want you to-”

“Déjame terminar... [Let me finish...]” Carlos said, closing his eyes and shaking his head solemnly. God, he really did look so much older than he did. Gaunt, like a shell or a ghost of the man he was. “Conozco esa rabia que supura en ti. Eso es lo único que obtuviste de mí. Tu cabello, tu cara bonita, tu cerebro, lo obtuviste de tu madre. Pero esa rabia, ese soy yo. [I know that anger that festers in you. That's the one thing you got from me. Your hair, your pretty face, your brain, you got that from your mother. But that rage, that's me.]”

Catalina stared at him with knitted brows, taking in his words. It occurred to her that she didn’t have anyone else to talk about her mother with. He was the only only other person who remembered their life when it was happy and good. He was the only other person who understood how frustrated and pissed off she was at everything and everyone for what life had stripped from her. He knew, and perhaps that was why she felt the urge to visit in the first place. To not feel alone in the feelings she was stewing in.

Carlos breathed deep through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face. “Vas a hacer lo que tienes que hacer, y no te voy a decir que te detengas o bajes la velocidad porque eso sería jodidamente estúpido.” [You're gonna do what you have to do, and I'm not going to tell you to stop or slow down because that would be fucking stupid.]” He shook his head. “But I am gonna tell you to watch your back, and when you’re finished, corre como que te sigue el diablo. [run like the devil’s behind you.]

Run. For as long as Catalina had an itch for revenge, she had always known it would end in a few ways. Death, imprisonment, maybe worse. But running? An escape plan had never been in her purview. She was perfectly content believing that the path she walked had an early and abrupt end. 

Or maybe she was simply lying to herself.

Her father didn’t run. He had stayed when the police showed, too engrossed in grief to know better. His was a cautionary tale of many different kinds, love and life being at the top of that list. If anything, she would want to do everything he didn’t. Yet, they still walked a similar path.

“¿Qué pasa si ya no quiero correr? [What if I don't want to run anymore?]” Catalina sighed, starting to sound as exhausted as she felt.

Carlos chuckled bitterly. “What, you think you got a choice? Ay Chiqui, you’re supposed to be smarter than me.”

She smiled. “I am smarter than you.” She murmured, sniffing lightly. 

Chiqui, the nickname she held when she was tiny and braver than she should be. 

She was sure visiting hours were ending soon, and they would have to part. However she thought this would end, she didn’t expect... well, an uneasy truce. It was probably in the name of people they no longer were, but in the end, she doubted that really mattered. “There are things happening in the place I’m staying in. Shit is stirring and I don’t know if I’ll be able to do anything before then, but when I do...”

“Quiero saber. [I want to know.]” He said with a twinge of a plea in his tone. 

Cat nodded. “Okay.” It was less than perfect and not at all a promise, but more like an invitation. An open door into the family they had once been. The afternoons spent boxing in their back yard and shooting bottles in the woods. The speeches about being strong and proud in the face of adversity, and the way he used to sing to her mama. It was slowly edging through the anger and resentment she had built around his name and image in her mind. The blame she placed upon him . 

And even those images fluttered through her mind and steadied her heart, it didn’t ebb away the anger. If anything, it deepened it to her soul. It was not one parent she was robbed of, after all, but two.

The guards soon announced that they should all say their goodbyes. It didn’t seem like enough time, but she supposed that was point. Catalina stared at Carlos, unsure of what to say or do. He stood and she followed, her fingers brushing against the plastic table between them. 

“Take care of yourself.” He said. 

She nodded. “You too.”

Another moment passed by with the two of them simply standing there. And then Carlos was around the table, his arms around her in a tight hug. It brought her back to when she was a kid, and those same arms lifted her high in the sky and helped her fend off imaginary monsters. Her father, her Papá, the only thing she had left on this planet. He kissed the top of her head and stepped back before the guards could warn them.  

“Ve por ellas, chiqui. [Go get them, chiqui.]

With that, he disappeared out the door he came, leaving her behind at the table. She blinked as the sting of tears swept down her cheeks, the weight that had been on her chest for weeks still prevalent, but less so. She even felt like taking a good nap. But above all, she felt a renewed spirit well in her, hungry and angry.  

She had work to do.

[v-mundi]

Speaking of Mushamon and Zanbamon...here’s Asuramon! Like Mushamon, Asuramon made its v-pet debut in Digimon ver Wonderswan. Since it was in Egg 3, it replaced Andromon and evolved from Mushamon (who replaced Ogremon). Ogremon was the “Devimon” slot of that digital monster version, so not the strongest Stage 4 for the “strong” Stage 3, but it is the strongest for the weak Stage 3. Okay that’s probably confusing and way off track. Anyway, Asuramon is the “Metalgreymon” of that version. Basically, the weakest Stage 5. Oh you don’t believe me? Battle your Metalgreymon from your original Digital Monster versus any of the other two a dozen times and...okay off track again.

Asuramon is another tough model to pose. The texture wasn’t as artifacted as others from DMO (Digmon Masters Online) but the rig was really basic. No offense to Guiltronprime—I adore that person’s work and needless to say Digimon Battle Evolution would look awful without their huge rig library. Part of the problem is what I call the “Toei problem”, where all Digimon models are based on short, stubby limbed, Toei animation drawings which suck. Poses with that proportion and anatomy are really janky.

Through some trial-and-error, I was able to get some of the JoJo-looking pose down from one of the reference arts. He has a very Dio Brando type of hip thrust and back-bend, coupled with being able to hover, emit fire, and each of the 4 arms can produce a different emotion. One arm is doing something from the spiritual practice of Yoga—not surprising since Asura-deva are also present in Hinduism, Buddhism, and many other shared-heritage religions. In some stories, they’re the underdogs who fight the concept of “Heaven”—who are basically the bastard ruling-class. I think One Piece is going for that lore too. In some stories, they’re evil rage demons. I tend to prefer a mix of them all. Especially Asuramon who appears to be multi-spirited, and so would have many emotions (per its faces: happiness, anger, sadness). The other arms are supposed to be in a karate-like pose with the fists upside down and near the waist. Unfortunately, due to the way the model rig weights work, you can’t make an upturned fist without it being glitchy so I hid that with perspective and did a related karate junbi (jp. 準備 prepared) pose. I tried to make each head in charge of an arm (anger is front-facing so it gets the remaining arm for continuity). Sad-head gets yoga hand, Happy-head gets the grabby hand, and Angry-head gets the prepared fists. I tried to tie an emotion to each hand that complimented but didn’t match the faces, so as to create new emotions. So instead of happy, sad, angry; I get introspective, playful, and determined. Pairing each emotion with an action to synthesize new emotions felt pretty cool and I think added an extra layer to the mode, just as researching some of this spirituality beforehand might have.

I realize people may not know how much effort I put into every detail in the game, especially since some of the art is ah, how should I say...expedient. Let’s go with that :P But yes, when I have time and skill, I put an immense amount of thought into details of Digimon Battle Evolution. Whether that be part of the art or the effect, nodes in the evolution network, matchups, exact numbers, yep everything. So researching various belief systems to emote poses is just the tip of the “deep lore” iceberg lol.

In the final, post-processed, color-graded render, I kept going until Asuramon and its actually 3D fire aura had a look that would make masculine-attracted people say “Daddy! 😍”. Hopefully I succeeded and you masc-lovers are happy. I’m a fem-lover, so I wouldn’t know. Overall, I’m very satisfied with the final result and when I see it now, it makes me want to WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!