#jjba oc writing

[jojosbizarrecandyland]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She reached into a jar of sour taffy and handed them each a piece. “Now, scram. And don’t come back without paying.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kimiko24-art]

This bit of lure pertaining to how Bruno and I chose to be a couple, has been something that I've longed to create since 2019. But life constantly found a way to prevent it, leaving me with little motivation to take up the challenge of actually making all the panels. BUT TODAY IT'S FINALLY HERE! and LET ME TELL YOU! MAN am I proud of this! I first started self-shipping with Bruno back in 2019 and often wondered how are relationship would fair in canon. I want to pour more of my love for Bruno into projects like this one. Because the results are something tangible and here in this world, even if he cannot be. It's a proof of our love~ and serves as a personal reminder of our choice to keep choosing each other no matter the circumstances.

Credits(s): Art was created using a combination of anime stills and my own artwork. OTHER COMICS: Comic 1, Comic 2

also my new oc Mario the gelato man cameo lmao

[iceicewifey]

so um... i found a pose reference that gave me big vanishay vibes, but then i got carried away then tried to turn it into a lore moment for some reason? 😭

i don’t totally like how his arm looks plus i couldn’t get him low enough because the height difference was making it a really awkward angle, but that’s what i get for copying the anime style again... it’s janky but close enough lmao full disclosure vanilla's bangs and face are heavily referenced bc they were giving me the most grief to copy, no thanks to all those damn little LINES. reference + transparent vers. under the cut!

𝚝𝚊𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 :: @goblinselfshippr、 @over--heaven、 @spookysinner45、 @little-miss-selfships | join my tag list ᡣ𐭩

can’t find a direct link since i saw it on pinterest (💔) but it’s by mellon_soup!

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Requests and Prompts For Fall

Hey y'all I've been working on a piece for summer, but I realize I never will finish it in time. I've been busy with college work and my new partner but I'm officially opening my request box for fall themed requests on September 22nd.

I will do:

Fluff

Yandere

Non-Yandere (not experienced at it though)

Horror themes

Angst

Slightly Spicy Things (Not really knowledgeable enough to write smut (if I did, I wouldn't really write Dominant Yanderes))

Fandoms:

JJBA

Obey Me

Total Drama

Twst Wonderland

Pokémon (Trainers and humanized Pokémon (no pokephilia))

Hetalia

Honkai Star Rail

Something's Wrong With Sunnyday Jack

Mushroom Oasis

Kid At The Back

Non-Fandoms:

Cat Cafe Ocs

Seven Deadly Reincarnation Ocs

Greek Mythology

Norse Mythology

Egyptian Mythology

Monsters (for spooky season)

Chupacabra (Still haven't written its full fic man)

Eldritch Deity creatures

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

🌊🪻MASTERLIST🪻🌊

This will include multiple fandoms, as I am a person who has phases through different fandoms! There will be the fandoms I feel comfortable writing with. More will be possibly added to the list at a later date. ✍️

• JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure

• TMNT

• Slashers

• Twisted Wonderland

• Dead By Daylight

• CoD MW

• OCs (for the friends who request it.)

‼️Request guidelines‼️

I like to write all kinds of things, but there are specific do’s and don’ts. Keep in mind;

✅ Do’s:

• Fluff

• Comfort/Reverse Comfort

• Headcanons

• Angst

• Smuts (sometimes)

• Crack-fics

• Gender-neutral reader is usually applied in most of my fanfics unless requested otherwise.

🚫 Don’ts:

• Incest/T-cest

• Non-con

• Pedophilia

• Toilet/gross fetishes

• Canon x OC; I fully support canon x OC! I love those, but I will not write for your OC, I do not know them well enough and I’d rather not mischaracterize them!

• Overall, just nothing gross or bad, nothing you wouldn’t want to be asked or isn’t appropriate and goes against my guidelines… I will ignore and even block depending on the requests.

🪻Requests I’ll be taking🪻

— Keep in mind; Some fics I will not be writing due to lack of motivation or I am currently not in that phase, nor do I feel like writing for certain fandoms! (Note: These will change up in the future so keep an eye on my masterlist to see what’s available to be written at that time!) If you see; ❌ means will not do! ✅ means I will do! 🔆 means per friend’s request!

• JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures ❌

• TMNT ❌

• Slashers ✅

• Twisted Wonderland ✅

• Dead By Daylight ✅

• CoD MW ❌

• OCs 🔆

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure

Caesar Zeppeli

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/738788515648815104/random-caesar-zeppeli-headcanons

Dragona Joestar

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/739646542145814528/dragona-joestar-x-reader

Josuke Higashikata (8)

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/737102469789777920/josuke-higashikata-8-x-reader-word-count-1575

Weather Report

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/737924254818091008/what-weather-report-is-like-with-his-so

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

2003 turtles

Note; I will write the turtles over the age of 18! No I will not write smut of them, thank you, have a good day. :)

Together

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/742874822396297216/when-the-03-turtles-are-in-love

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/743078858971070465/first-date

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/743321420897107968/hey-so-how-do-you-think-the-2003-tmnt-boys-would

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/743593020410281984/hey-so-how-do-you-think-the-tmnt-2003-boys-would

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/744048794428211200/ok-so-i-wonder-how-the-tmnt-boys-any-version-you

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/744075948251561984/the-03-turtles-first-kiss

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/744672931904356352/hey-so-how-do-you-think-2003-boys-would-deal-with

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/745438300709519361/hey-so-how-do-you-think-the-2003-boys-would-deal

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/745489919032606720/hi-i-hope-your-having-a-good-day-i-was-wondering

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/745959995344044032/can-i-request-headcanons-for-all-2003-boys-react

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/747021048463097856/how-would-the-tmnt-bros-2003-react-to-a-best

Leonardo

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/747027023288041472/hey-so-how-can-i-get-a-scenario-of-leo-2003

Raphael

None yet!

Donatello

None yet!

Michelangelo

None yet!

Casey Jones

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/746571072867123200/hi-could-i-get-some-hcs-of-the-03-turtle-boys

Bayverse Turtles

Together

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/744670077089136640/hello-i-was-wondering-if-you-could-do-either

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/745441884947742720/hey-i-was-wondering-how-do-you-think-the-bay

Slashers

Old stuff!

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/758666339946840064/reblogging-some-old-stuff-yall

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/758666396543713280

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/758666509893632000

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/758666552379949056

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/758666649615433728

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/758666684971286528

New stuff!

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/758849143813898240/thomas-hewitt-being-obsessed-with-his-chubby-so

Dead By Daylight

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/758630910703894528/how-the-killers-from-dbd-would-react-to-you

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/762783958028156928/cod-nsfw-headcanons

Twisted Wonderland

Leona Kingscholar

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/737791332459872256/hello-if-its-not-a-problem-i-would-like-to-ask

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/737875396071161856/hi-sorry-if-my-english-isnt-very-good-but-i

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/738786371749150720/hi-im-appearing-again-if-it-doesnt-bother-you

Jamil Viper

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/738786371749150720/hi-im-appearing-again-if-it-doesnt-bother-you

Malleus Draconia

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/742860989186342912/malleus-romance-hcs

OCs

Mammon

• https://www.tumblr.com/sprite-writes-fanfic/737279831427956736/well-i-wonder-who-asked-that-last-one-must-got

💙Happy reading everyone!!💜

[silbeni]

Dante Aguilar 🧬 🧠 🌀

(Namesake: Dante Alighieri)

Stand: GHOST TRAIN

Pronouns: He/xe/they

Labels: Xenogender transmasc panromantic asexual!

Uses Masculine/neutral gendered words.

Age: 24 (Stone ocean)

Height: 4'11"

Nationality: Puerto rican 🇵🇷

Notable characteristics: Glossy black eyes, spike piercings, black lipstick, sharp metal teeth, small, upturned button nose, ear gauges.

Build: Short with a twiggy frame. Xe has top surgery scars.

Pairings: Electricplankton (Dante/F.F.)

Voiceclaim: 🎙️Alcryst FE!!

PERSONALITY

Dante’s biggest flaw is their cowardice, and the most prominent aspect of their personality. Simply put, he is the wettest beast - xir confidence has the constitution of wet 1-ply toilet paper. However, they will do anything if it means helping someone they love. Xe deeply values the few connections xe's got, so he is incredibly loyal. He loves fully and attaches easily.

Besides lacking bravery, they are also sensitive. They feel emotions with the wholeness of their being. When they are happy, anyone can tell. When they are sad, everyone will hear them bawling in the next room over.

On the flipside, it wouldn't seem so, but Dante is actually very competent. When xe needs to, he can be quite formidable. He may not be strong, or brave, but he proves to be a valuable asset where intellect and strategy is involved. Xe's a clever one under all of the anxiety.

Likes: Videogames, energy drinks, manga/comics, sour candy, junk food, cryptids, internet forums.

Representative animal: White-tailed deer.

MISC

Motifs: Intersecting lines like DNA strands, metal spikes, balaclava masks, spirals (brain symbology)

Particularities: Strongly believes in superstitions of bad luck. Likes horror media despite being easily scared. He struggles with spelling.

Skills: Computer/tech skills. Black hat hacking. Puzzle solving. Incredible Tetris and Minesweeper skills. Can name the list of 151 Pokemon. An absolute fiend for cyphers.

Education: Full highschool education. A tattoo artist apprenticeship that was never followed up on.

OCCUPATION

Was previously a pizza delivery person prior to conviction. Held several low paying jobs before that.

CANON CHARACTER RELATIONSHIPS

F.F. Quick friends who then became lovers. They are so sappy and corny that they make Jolyne and Ermes gag. Truly the silliest couple ever.

Ermes/Jolyne. They couldn't tolerate him at first, but they eventually developed a strong friendship through the events of Stone Ocean.

Emporio. They have a really sweet relationship. Dante is like an older brother to him.

Weather Report. Consider each other good friends. Weather cools Dante’s anxiety with his chill disposition.

Anasui. They don't get along. He is very rude to xem and xe is too afraid to stand up for xemself.

Jotaro. They don't really know him, but they admire his strength.

ORIGINAL CHARACTER RELATIONSHIPS

(Alt!DIU) Romeh. Xe thinks he is so cool and intimidating. Romeh feels responsible for looking after xem, which is sometimes exasperating - but he does it anyway. It's pretty clear to see he cares about the little guy.

(DIU) Ryoma. Friends with sibling energy! They are very sweet together. Despite Ryoma being younger, they are like an older sibling to them.

(Jojolion) Kyouka. They exploit Dante’s gullible nature for amusement. They keep convincing him of silly things to scare him. Dante is wary of them, but he can't help but believe everything they say when they say it with such confidence.

(Battle Tendency) Nocera. She coddles him because she thinks of him as a baby. He generally doesn't mind this, but it gets a little tired sometimes.

BACKGROUND

-Brief mention of recreational drugs-

Dante’s life before moving out of their homeland was pretty uneventful. They didn't have a good relationship with their parents, their sense of self and choices were incredibly limited, but they stuck though it all until adulthood. He was sent off to the US to study dentistry, to which he attended for about a month before dropping out, unbeknownst to their parents. He began living wrecklessly. Couch surfing and chasing highs. Xe found friendship with a couple of black hat hackers, who taught xem their skills. He began breaching government databases, doing nothing with the information - he just wanted to see if he could do it. It was exhilarating, and the most fun they had ever had. They had hardships still, but this was one of the happiest times in their life.

Then, one night, they place they were staying at was seized by the cops. All their electronics were taken. As it turns out, one of their casual friends, who they trusted too much, had outed them to the police. Dante was been smart and no tangible evidence was found, but they had been sloppy otherwise. Since they were unable to be charged for cybercrimes, they were imprisoned for possession of weed with a sentence of 5 years.

Their hacker friends that were also snitched on, blamed them for everything. Especially since Dante received a much lighter sentence. They carried a lot of guilt because of that. His parents were notified of his imprisonment and he would be completely shut out of their family. The rest of their friends on the outside cut communication, either scared of being persecuted by the law, mutual friends wanting nothing to do with them, or simply not wanting to continue the friendship due to the circumstances. Xe made the news, and civilians rallied in favor of a heavier sentence for xem. Their peak was followed by what felt like an age of darkness. They were so alone.

Inside the prison, things were worse. They were routinely pushed around and taken advantage of. The absolute bottom of the food chain. They, again, were out of control of their life, powerless. That was until he acquired his stand. Ghost Train would retroactively help them navigate their day to day. Soon, a rumour would spread - that Dante was under the protection of a real life ghost, and the harassment would dwindle. The arrival of their stand would turn things around for them. Xe was still sad and lonely, but after that, xe had a much easier time behind bars. The string of fate that draws stand users together would eventually cause Dante’s and Jolyne’s paths to cross and thus their involvement with the plot begins.

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

“A Far Fall From The Heights Of Heaven” A Dio Brando x Self Insert Fanfic

The sun set like red gold over Cairo, and I watched my older sister Denise get in her wedding dress. I remembered saying she was crazy for wanting her wedding all the way in Egypt. But to be honest? Now I was grateful. Egypt was magical. I could feel it in the air.

We were in the crammed storage rooms of an old church, where she was getting ready before she walked down the aisle. I got emotional thinking about my sister all grown up and married!

The ceremony went well, and the wedding vows were moving, but it was all quite overwhelming, and after my mom made a crude comment to my aunt about me being unfuckable and certainly undatable, I felt like I needed fresh air and a place to run off too.

After Denise left with her new husband, I left through the back door. I wandered a bit down some streets, crying a bit, when a convertible pulled up in front of me. I froze, unsure of how to proceed. The men in the car offered me a ride, and I got the sense I was dead if I didn’t take it, considering my cornered situation. My heart was racing as I took a seat in the back. They drive through the streets to more lavish areas. Hours into the drive I felt like kicking myself, but to be honest? I was too tired to try anything drastic like jumping out of the car. It seemed silly anyway. The night breeze lulled me to sleep, and I woke up when the convertible stopped abruptly in front of—an Egyptian mansion looking structure? what the heck?!

The men got out and pulled me roughly from the car, dragging me into the well guarded mansion, which was pretty much a fort in its function. I figured things weren’t looking too great for me, so when they brought me through a maze into a lavish lounge room I was relieved they let me rest, collapsing on the floor from exhaustion. I didn’t bother lifting my eyes from the floor where I lay until—

“What’s this, gentleman? You seem to have treated our guest quite poorly. She looks exhausted.” A smooth voice overtook my senses, and I became well aware of a presence on one of the ornate lounges. His hair was golden blonde, and this man… no… surely more than a man, this god was handsome beyond my wildest dreams. He reclined on his side, shirtless (revealing beautifully defined muscles). I blushed, suddenly aware that my bridesmaid dress was barely staying up on my chest. “Bring the sweet mademoiselle to me so I can… be more hospitable.” I felt my tired body lifted and laid down next to him on the velvet upholstery. It felt good to lay down, I knew it was reckless and stupid to comply, but I’d been on my feet all day attending to my sister’s wedding, and this felt good.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the handsome god said. I shivered, my spine tingling as I felt his breath on my exposed neck. He gestured for the men who had brought me there to leave. “You may call me Lord Dio.” He explained, as if it was the most natural thing in the world how close we were to each other.

I nodded, looking up at him with wonder. “Yes, my Lord.” I whispered.

Dio looked satisfied, taking a sip from a glass of…wine? No… this was too thick for wine. I should’ve freaked out by now. ‘This seems like a cult’, I thought.

“I can offer you many things, beautiful.” Lord Dio explained charismatically.

My heart dropped. ‘Yeah, definitely a cult.’

“Eternal beauty, riches, and lots of pleasure.” Dio continued.

“Who are you, Satan or something?” I joked timidly.

Lord Dio frowned. “No, a bit different. You’re religious, I take it?”

“Not a whole lot. I used to be… but, well, it felt so hollow.” I explained, watching Dio regain his amused demeanor.

“I can give you something better to worship. But it will come with a cost.”

“I’m broke so…I’m not really in a position to be paying—“

Dio flipped me to face him parallel, and pinned me there. “Now you are. This is a great position for what I desire.”

I realized what he wanted in that moment, and a little rebellious part of me wanted to give it to him. To prove my mother wrong about being unfuckable.

Dio gently placed his hand on my waste, and I tried to stifle a sigh as my body pressed up against his. “May I, mademoiselle?” He whispered in my ear.

“Yes.” I swooned. Screw safety. I needed this. “But I should warn you I’m a—“

“Virgin? Yes. I figured as much.” Dio said, completely unzipping my dress. “You’re too sweet to be anything else.”

My dress fell away, revealing my figure. Dio didn’t waste any time, his lips went straight to my neck and his hands…. Oh god, I was not prepared for the sensation of his hands traveling up my thighs, fingering my pussy, and teasing my clit until it was gaping with pleasure. Then he pulled his fingers out and dug them into my waist til I bled small droplets of blood. I winced, but I could tell the pressure he applied was very calculated so as not to be too painful and outdo any pleasure he was giving me with his mouth.

Lord Dio kissed and caressed my breasts, carefully making his way down to where he had drawn blood from my plump folds of flesh at my waist. The way he lapped up the blood with his tongue sent shivers down my spine and had my breathing become heavy with lust. This was better than any sexual act I’d read about in my favorite smutty books. This was the real thing, and Dio seemed to know every physical and sexual weakness I had. Weaknesses as a first timer I was completely unaware of.

Then he repositioned me on my back and spread my legs further apart. He smirked as he saw my wide eyed expression.

In between panting I gasped, “Shouldn’t we use protec—“

His giant hard cock rammed into my soft pussy, and I let out a cry of surprise. Dio persisted in pushing it further, no matter how tight it was for his large length. I shed tears, but got no sympathy, only the sound of his own groans and growls of ecstasy. I braced my body as he pushed it in and pulled it out repeatedly. I was drooling with overstimulation until finally he left it in, filling me with an absurd amount of his cum.

Then Dio did something unexpected, repositioning and holding me close, his dick still deep inside me. He rubbed my back and held me tightly, in a comforting way. “There there…” he soothed me with his low voice, as smooth as liquid gold. I took this as a sign to press up against him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and cried softly, my teary cheek pressed against his pecs. He laughed softly, acknowledging my vulnerability with a kiss on the top of my head and a quiet moan of satisfaction. I fell asleep in his arms, exhausted from all the sexual excitement.

When I woke up, Dio was still asleep. I had to check the clock on the nightstand to see what time it was as there were no windows in the room to let in light that indicated whether it was day or night. I covered my mouth to suppress a yelp of shock. It was afternoon of the next day. I was supposed to be helping my mom set up the wedding reception venue!

Dio stirred, rolling over and opening an eye to observe my distress at the time. He mumbled about how it was too early to be awake, and I should join him back in bed.

I sighed. I couldn’t say no, gazing at his sleepy expression. Even a bit disheveled Dio looked like a fucking king. I climbed back in bed. Who’s to say I had to show up for the reception? It was more my mom’s event than my sister Denise’s event. My mom had taken full control of all the planning and didn’t let my sister have a say in anything. Besides… I had been kidnapped! I was practically… helpless.

I sighed, curling up against Lord Dio. “Are you going to put me up for ransom?” I asked, beginning to dose off.

Dio laughed heartily, nuzzling the back of my neck affectionately. “Over your dead body.” He said, then proceeded to yawn and falling back asleep.

TYSM FOR READING! Reblog if you enjoyed it!

TUMBLR FANFIC TAG-LIST!

Comment Rose to join and Thorns to leave!

@sflame15-blog

@rottent33th

@armyangxls

@darkangel4405

@promiseokza

@6lostgirl6

@vamp-doll-diva

@queen-dk

@richardamboramylove55

@chaos-4baby

[slimslamflimflam]

IS THIS HOW THESE WORK DID I EVEN GET HALF OF THEM RIGHT I HAVENT BEEN HERE LONG GRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

anyway jojo slander(?) because i wanted an excuse to use this specific song in pmd rescue team dx

[juniperw]

Beta reader(s) wanted for a JoJo fic!

I’m currently planning a story themed around Parts 7 and 9, although it’s important to me that I also get input from some other JoJo fans.

A major focus of the plot will be the development of an OC x Canon pairing, so if you’re not comfortable with that, then it probably won’t be your jam.

I’ll need you to know about Part 7 most of all, although a degree of familiarity about Parts 8 and 9 would also help.

I would much prefer communicating with someone around my general age range. (early 20s)

Please message me on here, Instagram, or ToyHouse if you’re interested!

[grrrrriffin]

can you explain ryoma's stand/abilities if ydon't mind i don't think i ever caught explanation!! :)

SURE ! i actually made a doc about this a while back, so, just gonna paste that here :3. Sorry if theres formatting issues… im doing this on my ipad

GADZOOKS. HOST: RYOMA ROMÁN.

Namesake: Gadzooks - Lemon Demon

FOREWORD:

Pronouns: they/it

Gadzooks is a very independent stand. It has its own will, thoughts and feelings. Though it is spirit-bound to Ryoma, they are unable to control it. Gadzooks follows Ryoma's commands simply because of its fondness for her. It can and will disobey its host if it wishes to. This is also the conditions for any stand/human contract it might've made, hence why they are called “hosts” and not “users”.

BACKSTORY:

Gadzooks wasn't always Ryoma's stand. Gadzooks has lived for thousands of years, and had several other hosts before Ryoma. It would search for powerful people to contract, leaving when they died or became cumbersome. (Fun fact: One of these was the creator of the film projector, who modeled it after Gadzooks likeness.) As Gadzooks is without morality, some of its chosen were bound to be sinister individuals. After its host was killed by a younger Joseph (Battle Tendency) it began its search for a new body to take residence.

Eventually, It came across young Ryoma, who had recently moved to Japan. They were the polar opposite of what Gadzooks was looking for: Thin and frail, she was the farthest thing from powerful, yet she showed a compelling resilience despite her circumstances. Gadzooks decided to protect them from then on, but it would prove to be harder than expected.

PERSONALITY:

Gadzooks is defined by extremes. Its volatile nature is contrasted by its cold and calculating rationale. It deeply cares for Ryoma, (motherly in a way) but it is rather unemotional and detached. Its protective to a fault. It will stop at nothing to keep Ryoma safe, even if it causes them to be terrified of it. It takes no joy in killing, but doesn't shy away from it. Given its past, violence and intimidation are second nature, a hair trigger instinct. It views life with red-tinted glasses as it sees danger in everything and everyone. A friendship with Gadzooks is non-existent, but peaceful coexistence is achievable.

ABILITY:

Gadzooks has the ability to turn anything, immaterial or immaterial into film. Anything turned into film will then be then transported into the Film World.

Power: C

Speed: C

Range: A

Durability: D

Precision: B

Potential: A

Gadzooks doesn't have a lot of combat power, speed or durability, but it more than makes up for it with its versatility. Here are some of its uses:

Healing:

Stop bleeding (turn the broken blood vessels into film), Undo harm, (rewinding film on an injury or a broken object)

Offensive:

Cutting, (Injuries do not bleed. If limbs are left severed for a long period they will necrose from lack of oxygenation. Cutting is only fatal with decapitation. There is nothing Gadzooks can't "cut". Gadzooks’ "cutting" is an act of dividing by taking away thin slivers of film.)

Defensive:

Film conversion (subduing a target by turning their limbs into film and rendering them useless, or simply sending them into the Film world)

Reel recoil (instinctual defense mechanism that turns Ryoma into a film reel, in a similar fashion to a snail recoiling into its shell. The spikes on the reel prevent enemies from grabbing it since Ryoma is vulnerable in this state. If an ally is detected, the spikes will sink down, allowing to be held)

Special:

Memory film conversion (turning memories into film),

Film extraction (when used in tandem with Memory film conversion, can recover lost items from memory. The fresher the memory, the better. Objects may be altered by inaccurate recall. Film extraction can also be used to extract objects or people from video media, but yield unpredictable results.)

Film World Portal (ripping open a film portal to suck people inside) Film World manipulation (weaponizing natural disasters within the Film world, messing with gravity, moving buildings around.) Doppelganger swarm (The Dopplegangers sprout scissors and attack. They share the same cutting ability Gadzooks does.)

Film World Enlargement (Growing larger to heighten destructive capacity. Think Godzilla lol. Paired with Film Portal, can be used to reach outside of the Film World to cause damage in the material world.)

FILM WORLD:

The film world is a strange realm that resides in another reality. It manifests as a bizarre, flipped version of Morioh (as an island) which is populated by copies of the people Ryoma often interacts with.

Doppelgangers: These copies share some of Gadzooks physical traits, like their eyes, sharp metal teeth and, if aggressive, sharp scissor hands. They seem to glow from within, and seem blurry, like you're unable to focus on them. They perform strange impressions of their counterparts and speak in reverse. (Ryoma is able to speak to and understand them :3) They have a sort of sentience, but Gadzooks is able to influence their actions. The Doppelgangers are generally harmless, unless instructed to attack.

OHC-HOIROM: Morioh itself has been copied pretty faithfully with a few notable exceptions. Both the sky and sea have turned a bright red. The streets and buildings are covered in colorful patterns, arrow shapes in particular are common. This version of Morioh has been entirely mirrored (most noticeable on signs with text) Clock hands move counter clockwise, and much faster than normal… the way the trees blow in the wind, the birds, and even the shadows seem unnatural. It all adds up to this unshakeable feeling that something is off. It looks fake, manufactured, because. It is.

The Film World already existed prior to Ryoma, but Gadzooks changed it to suit Ryoma's interests (as well as it being influenced by Ryoma's unconscious mind). It was meant to be somewhere where Ryoma could escape to, a personalized haven of sorts. (think the other world from Coraline) Though Gadzooks doesn't have such a great grasp on the material world so it becomes a faulty (unnerving) recreation of their ideal world.

DRAWBACKS:

While immensely powerful, a grand majority of Gadzooks' power is limited by Ryoma's physical condition. Performing these abilities is taxing on their body, and causes hemorrhaging from the eyes and nose. When pushed to their limit, Ryoma may become unconscious for a period of time ranging from a couple hours to several days. With proper care (proper rest and nutrition), these symptoms can be alleviated.

[jellyluchi]

An Education in Humanity

A/N: I had this idea while in the shower and since I'd not written profoca in a while it seemed like something new to explore. It is probably their least physically affectionate story. The Egypt stuff I can’t explain just imagine they’re going on vacation. And Idk if they had credit cards back in 2001.

Pairing: Prosciutto x Focaccia Genre: Fluff, Angst (?) Content warnings: implied racial discrimination Summary: Two assassins run into a difficulty when grocery shopping

Grocery shopping is an entirely ordinary affair for people who are entangled within the sordid shadows of the world. Through the maze of aisles carrying produce, bottles, cans, and boxes, it’s easy to keep oneself hidden. But that is not at all necessary for the kind of work Focaccia and her husband have been up to lately. Holding a bag of flour in her hands, she fumbles with translating simple Italian adjectives in her mind. Frowning at the fine print, she turns to Prosciutto. 

“What does this say?” she points a manicured finger to an unfamiliar Italian word. Even grocery shopping in the years that has immersed her into the language has not schooled her vocabulary. 

The man gives a nonchalant glance to the sack, his head turned downwards with boredom playing on his face. Unlike his usual disposition for a well tailored suit he opted for a thermal coat and layers of cotton underneath. Neapolitan winters may not summon snow, even at night, but the chill is enough to warrant warm outerwear. Not to mention the air-conditioned interiors of most grocery shops.

“Something about heart health,” Prosciutto says the words as though they are of no consequence. Focaccia glances once more at the price, thinking of how much flour they have left. 

“Just take it,” her husband commands, already turning to disappear into the next alleyway of items. 

Huffing, Focaccia places the little bag into their cart. At least it is good for her indecisiveness. If Prosciutto deems something good enough then it must be, right?

Following close behind, she pushes the cart aimlessly looking at what he picks up and snatching a couple snacks on the way. Other shoppers stay out of their path most of the time but Focaccia catches the eye of a lady and smiles. The pitiable woman’s oculars shift from the towering, uncouth figure behind her before easing into reciprocating her expression and moving on. Despite the quickness with which she made herself scarce, Focaccia spotted her trepidation towards Prosciutto, commiserating her.  

Fluttering about from one area to the next, they work slowly into fulfilling the list of standard monthly items. Illuminated by the harsh fluorescent lights and accompanied by soft but boring music, Focaccia feels a sense of peace for their mostly idyllic life they have been able to lead. If she tries hard enough, she could pretend their lives are almost normal. 

Once the necessary items are procured, the pair wait patiently in line behind a few other groups of people. Mothers, daughters, uncles, and grandparents, go about their daily lives. She’s no stranger to hushed murmurs of the spoken language but Focaccia sometimes wishes she knew exactly what they were saying. 

Eyeing the cashier she notices a dark haired man working behind the counter rather enthusiastically and unusually fast. He’s talkative from the way animated expressions and loud voice that emanates from him. Or perhaps that is customary for Italians. 

“Can you pay?” She pleads to Prosciutto, the man looking the other way, makes a non-committal noise of agreement. Having been bad at math most of her life, Focaccia hates counting her money by the cashier and holding the line. It’s humiliating, especially with people more than happy to point out how slow she is. 

Moving to stand out of view behind her husband, she lets the cart stay by his waist as the line moves along. Prosciutto is much less awkward than herself, usually making conversation if someone speaks first. Focaccia always finds herself stumbling with her broken Italian before they start speaking in English out of pity or some such thing. 

Only when it’s their turn does she walk to the other end of the counter, attending to the groceries being bagged. There is the usual sound of the cashier’s voice greeting Prosciutto but the man says something unfamiliar that she assumes to be for conversation. At Prosciutto’s silence she looks up to see his utter shock, eyes widening for a fraction of a second and lips apart. It’s a rare sight and Focaccia barely has a moment to understand before his face contorts to an extreme grimace. But what follows is most certainly never something she would expect, especially in such a public setting. 

Hauling himself over the counter with his tall frame, Prosciutto doesn’t have to reach far before taking the poor cashier by the neck for a swift punch to the horror of those in line. The commotion escalates fast and Focaccia fears what would happen if she lets it get worse. 

“Stop! Stop!” Yelling, she pulls him back by the waist, hoping the damage isn’t too bad. It’s strange, he’s never acted this way before. Whatever was said to him must have struck a nerve. “What’s going on?!” She demands from him, now noticing the poor disheveled worker and the look of pure hatred in Prosciutto’s eyes. He does not even show this much emotion when he’s killing a target. 

Instead of answering her questions, Prosciutto spits Italian curses at his opponent before being pulled outside by his wife. She carries the two grocery bags, worried about whether they’d be banned from coming back. “What happened?! What did he say?” She would be worried about whether he paid for their groceries or not but her priorities were just reshuffled. 

“Let’s not talk about these things here,” he replies, taking both of the bags from her before a protective arm on her lower back ushers her to their car. It’s clear Prosciutto is still angry and agitated from his encounter. The usual scowl on his face is much deeper than she’s used to, and the knuckles on the steering wheel are white from his grip. She’s only so thankful that his frustration does not manifest itself in his driving lest they run a red light. 

Dinner is quiet, something quickly put together with some of the groceries they bought earlier. And Focaccia is too nervous to ask what weighs on Prosciutto’s mind. His eyes soften when they meet hers, his blues a particularly mysterious shade and her browns twinkling with silent questions but he seems unable to meet them for long. 

After their meal, Prosciutto settles into bed, watching her comb her hair with an air of disdain still hanging around him. Sitting beside him, she puts an arm around his back, feeling the muscles relax. “What did he say, Prosciutto,” she asks. 

“...It doesn’t matter,” comes his moody but defeated reply, clearly irritated from being reminded of the conversation. 

“Please,” Focaccia says. “I have to know.” 

Sighing, Prosciutto’s body seems to deflate, letting go of all the anger repressed inside his body all evening. “He said…something derogatory.” Prosciutto opts not to translate the vile words.

“About you?” Focaccia says in confusion. 

“I wouldn’t have cared so much if it were about me.” 

Staring at him with silent understanding, Focaccia moves closer. “You didn’t have to, you know.” 

This seems to anger him further. “And let him say whatever he wants about my wife?” 

“I mean you don’t have to protect me,” she says with a smile. “I didn’t survive this long here on my own for nothing. Or in the west for that matter. I may not speak the language, but I can tell. It’s in their eyes.”

She finds something very rare within his eyes, a speck of melancholy as if understanding only a miniscule amount of her experiences for the first time. And it renders him somewhat speechless. 

“Tell me,” she says. “Did you attack him just for me or would you have done that if he said that about someone else?” 

At her question he thinks before answering. “Anyone else and he would have earned a glare and a dismissal. I admit,” he says with the voice of a man who is entirely not sorry for his actions, “the punch was personal.” 

Smiling fondly, she hugs him close. 

“Don’t stop me if it happens again,” he murmurs. Again… because it is something she will simply have to live with. 

A thought occurs to her. “Maybe it is you who will have to experience it when we are in Egypt,” she says. “Don’t worry, I will protect you then.” 

The words have their intended effect and Prosciutto chuckles somewhat forlornly. 

“Or,” he suggests. “We could find the CEO of the grocery store and blackmail him for money,” the mischievous smirk in his mouth beckons. 

Focaccia lets go, looking at him with some excitement and disbelief before cackling with laughter. “I like that.”

Bonus A/N: The reason why I was hesitant about posting this is because of the subject matter being sensitive and all its implications. I have not thought of every possibility or the best interpretation for it. But most importantly I wanted to emphasize Prosciutto not being some white savior trope and Focaccia knowing how to deal with them in her own way. it's just great to see Pros jumping someone for disrespecting his wife. It's not written here but it's possible he went back and stalked that dude to kill him or worse LOL

[kimiko24-art]

Kimiko asks one of the nonne in town, Mrs. Menini, for help preparing Bruno's favorite dish.

Kimiko: "Scusi, Mrs. Menini do you have a moment?

Mrs. Menini: "Oh! Kimiko, how are you dear?

Kimiko: "Well, I was wondering if you could teach me how to make "spaghetti alla bottarga"?

Kimiko: "You see... It's Bruno's favorite, and I'd like to make it for him."

Mrs. Menini: "Sure! It's a very simple dish to make."

-

Kimiko asks one of the nonne in town, Mrs. Menini, for help preparing Bruno's favorite dish. She could have easily followed a cookbook recipe and learned that way. However, Kimiko wanted to learn from someone who was experienced and could prepare it authentically. So naturally she asked around town! Luckily Mrs. Menini was kind enough to leaned a hand.

It takes several failed attempts but eventually under the nonna's guidance she successfully made a good batch!

TO BE CONTINUED:(making a part 2)

-

Credits(s): Art was created using a combination of anime stills and my own artwork.

OTHER COMICS: 1, 2, 3, 4 // 5, 6, 7

[wanderingtheark]

I want to ramble about my fanpart so bad but I do not know how to talk about it coherently right now.

It takes place in Canada and the JoJo's name is Jonah Jean-Luc, an unknown grandson of Joseph. It's a running joke that they look and act similarly despite not knowing about each other one bit.

His stand is called Angel's Fall and looks like this but I still need to digitize and finalize it.

So far there are two JoBros designed and the JoFoe and a majority of the plot.

Feel free to ask questions about it, maybe questions will help me ramble coherently.

[dragonpigeons]

Scene from Chapter 1

[Story takes place after the events of Part 3]

Jotaro throws a China cup at Shizuka during their first encounter. The actual scene is more serious than I make it sound here. Shizuka is asked by her homeroom teacher to visit Jotaro after he's been skipping school for a month to tutor him on all the missed lessons. She goes over there, comes across the photo of the Crusaders in the desert and Jotaro throws the cup at her so she doesn't touch it. Since Shizuka knows nothing about what this photo means, she runs out of there thinking Jotaro is crazy, because who throws a cup at someone for seemingly no reason?

It's not the best first impression, but Shizuka never had a good opinion of him to begin with, so this encounter just made things worse. In her mind, this act of aggression consolidates his reputation as a violent brute; this good-for-nothing delinquent known as Jotaro Kujo is simply a danger to society. And since he's not the type to bother explaining himself, nor does he care what others think of him, it's easy for misunderstandings to grow between them.

Poor Shizuka, she deserves better. And Jotaro needs a timeout in a bathtub of ice.

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Request Box: Open

Requests are open people don't be shy you'll make me cry

Look at fall requests for info and prompts as well.

[love-overdrive]

"Heart" Beat

Summary: He shouldn't have been alive. But with his "heart" reaffirmed and given a second chance at life, he's willing to do whatever it takes.

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~1.2k

Notes: Blood, death, religion, and mentions of a certain president's backstory. Non-canon of course due to insertion of an OC. No romance.

A/n: Haha I am physically incapable of not writing angst when it comes to part 7 <3 I love casually adding some of the strangest plot points that WILL come back later.

He clawed his way through the sand, struggling to breathe as the heat of the San Diego sun beat down on him. He darted his eyes around, recognizing no other signs of life besides him. His company and fellow soldiers had perished in the Devil’s Palm, leaving him all alone. 

He placed a hand over his “heart”. This “heart” beat steadily- feeling like his own, yet entirely foreign. It was nothing if not enlightening to the young man. A reminder of his own mortality and of his desire to serve the country. It was surely “fate” he was chosen to live while every other soldier would be left to rot. 

Ah, but that meant- 

He hobbled onto his feet, curious to see where she was. Was she still alive? Or did she fade just like everyone else? The thought made the young soldier somber, yet another reminder of loss in his life. Dead corpses were buried partially underneath the sand, a slight breeze blowing more of the small grains around. It was as if the land was personally trying to cover this gruesome and unsightly bunch. 

Perhaps he had been walking and looking for almost an hour now. Time was something he could not feel or understand at the moment, only the thumping of his “heart” and the sweltering rays of the sun. He swallowed, finding himself unable to bother trying to continue this meaningless search. She was dead anyways, wasn’t she? There would be no possible way she could survive this long. It was only due to a miracle he himself was alive- she had no hope. 

That was what he told himself as he pulled out a compass to attempt to make it back to home base and return to civilization. North was… ah, that way. 

He began his tiring journey back, before he heard a pathetic gurgling. He raised a brow, cocking his head left to right. The gurgling sound echoed again in the near silent desert, and the young man could pinpoint that it was most certainly coming from behind him. He turned around, yet nothing. 

The gurgling stopped for a few moments before it became a full on wail. His eyes widened. What was making that noise? A wild animal? That surely had to be the answer, because there was no possible- 

He stiffened as the crying grew louder, making his “heart” tighten and ache. As if compelled, he walked to the source of the noise and noticed a rock that jutted out and formed a bit of shade underneath it. He gasped when he saw his wife’s body curled up in a ball, hidden beneath the rock. He knelt down to her, reaching a hand out to touch her. No pulse. No life. She was gone, just like everyone else. His curiosity was peaked when he noticed a pool of blood collected around her. Unlike the others, she practically bled to the death. But why? How? 

He wouldn’t be able to know exactly what had happened while he was practically knocked unconscious earlier. But he saw she was cradling something in her white apron tightly, as if shielding it. 

He was about to reach out to it when he heard weak cries coming from that bundle in her arms. 

Wait, was it possible- 

He quickly untied the apron off her corpse and held the bloodied bundle together to drag out from underneath the shade. He unfurled the apron and gasped as he saw that, inside, was a newborn. 

The newborn sobbed and all the young man could do was watch for a moment. His wife… she had… she may have left, but she had given him a final parting gift and protected it with her life. 

She… 

The young man stood up and lifted the newborn, his blue eyes sparkling with renewed life in them. “She” was perfect. “She” was a “miracle”, born to the most patriotic and selfless people ever known. How could he not find joy in this creation, this “miracle” of life he thought he would never get to have? 

“She” cried, and his eyes teared up, his ears ringing with the sound of life that brought him unbridled joy. 

This was certainly “fate”, wasn’t it? This must have been further proof that God had bore him such wonderful fortune. Undeniable evidence that he, a young soldier, was destined to go beyond for the sake of this country.

“It is alright now, my child. Weep no longer,” he stated to the sobbing newborn. “I am here, and I will make sure this country is a place where you will be able to be at peace and revel in its wealth. I will make that world for you. I promise.” 

He held his daughter close to his chest, carefully caressing her head as he shakily exhaled. 

“Oh… you are so precious. You sound like heaven itself,” he whispered euphorically. “I see… I see what they meant now.”

The young man turned his eyes to the sky. “Father, this was what you felt, wasn’t it? It’s what made you want to die to protect those secrets, wasn’t it? I see it now, I understand now. Holding her… I know what you must have felt. The torture, the pain, none of it means a damn thing.” 

A few tears dripped down his cheeks as he looked down at his child again. 

“None of it matters. I have even more reason to pursue those goals. My precious child shall never know of heartache or sorrow. She shall never know a land that is unfortunate or inhospitable. I will make it so this country that you have bled and died for is a sanctuary for her, father. I will make it so her mother’s sacrifice is honored. By my own hands, I will make this happen.” 

He pressed his lips to her soft head, holding her close. 

“This sun must be unbearable for you, right?” He asked her, knowing very well she could not answer. He removed his army coat and wrapped it around her to protect her from the sun. “Much better than that bloody rag, now.” 

Once swaddled in his coat, his daughter began to calm down, soothed from being enveloped in her father. His “heart” beat faster, full of life as she settled into his arms, accepting him as her caregiver. The young father had started to walk as he carried his child, going north to reach home base. 

“I am sorry your mother wasn’t here alongside me to christen you. You know, we discussed many names for you,” he recounted. “If you were a boy, we would have named you ‘Jonathan’. That’s an appropriate for a young boy, I believe. And, well, I do have a fondness for the nickname ‘Johnny’. Although, your mother was insistent on the name ‘Joseph’.

“But for a girl, we had agreed quite easily on a name. ‘Mary’. It’s a beautiful name, one that is very important and meaningful,” he continued, smiling. “And seeing you, my daughter… you fit the name perfectly.” 

The young man rubbed his thumb across her squishy cheeks, enamored with the way she was beginning to yawn and fall asleep against him. “Mary, Mary, Mary. Yes, no other name fits you better. You are my miracle, Mary. I promise, as your father, I will do whatever it takes to keep that smile on your face.”