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[sacredwrath]

P13. Be afraid

Violence, wound care, past torture, touch aversion, nausea mention, self harm?, suicidal ideation (encouraged), negative self perception

“Hey there, come on back now.” The words find Adrian somewhere far away. They wash over him, conveying little meaning.

He floats

“Adrian!” More forceful. That's his name, isn't it? Did he have a name?

“Adrian, it's time to come back now, come on, wake up.” These words are accompanied by a spike of irritation. Who's disturbing him?

“Adrian!” This time, a sensation, a small pain against his cheek. He has a cheek? He has a body

Body awareness hits him

He shoots back into himself, leaping up with a gasp, unsteady legs almost dumping him to the floor. Where is he? Who is hurting him?

The walls are dusty brick, and his feet press into concrete. His cell, Jesse's basement. He relaxes a fraction

A small, dark-skinned woman with wild hair and a bloody rag in her hand looks up at him from where she's seated on a cot. Was that always here?

“Hey hey, it's ok,” she says, raising her hands to show she's unarmed. “It's just me… Wonder. L- Apollo went to grab my kit. I'm a medic. We met before, but you were kinda out of it” she trails off

Right, Jesse's friends. The blonde man- Apollo? Stupid name

What the fuck just happened? He's off balance. He hates being off balance. Why was he unconscious?

“Don't touch me!” He snaps as she reaches for him. It comes out tight and unmistakably panicked. Weak- He bears his teeth. Who gave her permission-

Pull yourself together

Can't let them see it

She has her hands up again. “It's ok, I'm not going to hurt you it's just a soothing antibiotic ointment.”

“What?” He still feels off balance, he doesn't understand. Why is she tending his wounds?

“For the pain?”

…

“L-Apollo thought you were having a… reaction to the pain.”

He doesn't understand. Why? Best to agree. He nods, forcing himself to take a few steps towards her.

Gingerly he sits, forcing himself to angle his bared back towards her. It feels like willingly reaching for a hot stove

He flinches at her touch. Fucking weak-

Trying to calm himself he holds still as her fingers move over his back. Each touch burns, sending goose flesh racing across his skin

His last memory was the blonde man coming through the door. He'd been feeling pretty good then? Hadn't he? He likes watching the man squirm and this time he was squirming. The man hadn't known how to use a whip-

Of course, he bites his tongue, letting the slight pain ground him

A whip, fucking typical. Disgust roils in his belly. He'd thought he'd be over this. The man was fucking incompetent with a whip anyways. Did he even hit him? Fucking weak, pathetic-

Her fingers graze the back of his neck and he grits his teeth against bile suddenly rising in his throat.

She finally breaks contact and he allows himself an unsteady breath.

But then her fingers are back and he flinches hard. Revolting-

“Sorry” she says automatically. Is she? He has to fight every instinct he has to make himself unfurl and lean back towards her.

“Almost done.” Is she trying to reassure him? Pathetic

She rubs ointment over another laceration. Her fingers feel like thousands of tiny needles, stinging, but not hurting. He gags, twisting suddenly to grab her wrist. He can't take it

“Get away from me bitch!” He snaps, wrenching her arm viciously and throwing her to the ground.

She cries out, landing awkwardly and he grins. Finally. Satisfaction, control, relief wash through him so fast it makes him dizzy. Yes

He stalks towards her with purpose and she scrambles away, the fear plain in her eyes. He takes his time, wanting to enjoy this.

Where to start? Her fingers, obviously. The hands that were all over his bare skin. His stomach turns, he can still feel their phantom touch. Should he break them? Take off her nails? Breaking them might be too... harsh

He lunges at her, but she darts past him, faster than he expected. Or maybe he's just slower. Her elbow collides hard with his spine and he yelps, spinning back to face her with a growl. Break them then. Each and every one that touched him. Hes going to rip them out one by one and make her fucking eat them

“Come on” she says, hands half raised as if she's still not sure if she wants to fight him. “You really think you can take me in your condition? I don't want to hurt you.” Part of him tries to remember his condition. He's injured, severely injured in his legs, and was unconscious not 10 minutes ago. Maybe he should care, but he doesn't

He throws himself at her, ducking a fist, in past her guard. She kicks out, connecting with his ruined shin, and he howls. The world going white for a moment. When it comes back, he's on top of her, straddling her hips. His wounded knees dig hard into the floor on either side of her. It hurts, but the pain just makes him more angry. He buries a fist in her face, and another before she bucks her hips, knocking him forward, off balance. Grabbing his arm, she flips him off of her, reversing their positions, but before he can react, he feels the tip of a knife digging into his neck.

He almost begs for it 

“Go on then.” He half screams “fucking do it! I can see how bad you want to!” Breathing hard he can feel the sharp edge biting gently into his skin. “You're little friend couldn't. Wanted to teach me a lesson first. But between you and me, I just think he's a coward.” He can't stop the laugh bubbling up in him. “Come on now,” he tries to sound soothing, not crazy. “For Jesse.” He pouts. “Think about how broken they looked when they got back. All shaky and crying, probably flinching at even your most gentle touch.” he tsks “so sad” 

“Misha!” A startled gasp from the door. She glances back and Adrian takes the chance, knocking the blade away from his neck. He twists, throwing her off him, trying to swing the blade around to her neck, but she is too strong. She grapples him, knife clasped in both their hands as they each try to keep it away from themself.

Then the blonde man, Apollo, is there. He stomps hard on Adrian's wrist, grinding it into the cement as the woman lets go. He wines in pain, flailing with his other hand, trying to grab her. She extracates herself easily and stands, looming over him.

“I think you're the coward.” She growls, knife back in her hand. “You're trying so hard to get someone to do it for you. Why? Too scared to do it yourself?" She sneers. "Maybe if you're good, when Apollos done, I'll leave what's left of you with the knife.” she spits at him, pointedly folding the knife as she turns away

He sees red, diving after the pair. A boot knocks him back. He dives again, just in time for the door to slam shut in his face. He screams

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Tag list: @whumpacabra @turn-the-tables-on-them @kiichu @whatwhump @jay--o @starsick1979

[realisticjojoxreader]

Jotaro beats the shit out of your boss 🥺🥺🥺

sorry this took so long lol

jotaro x reader (?), probably between parts 3 and 4, 1.1k

"This guy bothering you?" asks Jotaro, eyes flashing. He looks about ready to kill a man, which works out for you, honestly, because you have a man in desperate need of a gruesome end.

Your boss smirks that awful smirk of his and says, "No, we're all good here."

"I wasn't talking to you," Jotaro says bluntly. "I was talking to this one." He gestures toward you, and you feel yourself blush ever so slightly. Truth be told, he's never given you the time of day before this, despite your best efforts. You're not even sure if he knows your name. It's nice to have him acknowledge your existence after weeks of you subtly making goo-goo eyes at him. "This guy bothering you?"

Uh oh, you think, watching as your boss's face starts to get red and splotchy like it does before he blows his lid. He's going to kill Jotaro.

Jotaro could probably defend himself, if it came down to it, but you would still prefer things didn't escalate. It would be nice to see your boss get his stupid face beat in, though. That might rule, actually. The more you think about it, the more you kind of want it to escalate, because Jotaro would almost definitely kick your boss's ass, and that would fucking shred.

"How dare you speak to me like that!" shrieks your boss, obnoxious and ear-piercing as ever. "Get the hell out of my restaurant!"

"This isn't a restaurant," Jotaro points out quite fairly, "it's a coffee shop. And no, I'm not leaving. I already paid. I just need my other drink. Leave your employee alone so I can get Jiji's nasty coffee and leave."

In your wisest move of the day, you say nothing, skirting around your boss and trying to finish Jotaro's order. Professional legend over here.

Your boss, though, won't let it go, because of course he won't. He's a fucking moron and you hate his guts. "Absolutely not! I want you out of here right this instant or I'm calling the police! You hear me?! The police!"

"For what? I haven't done anything wrong. I didn't even curse at you. You can't just take my money like that."

"Out, out, out!" howls your boss, so angry that he grabs a bottle of liquid vanilla flavoring and hurls it at Jotaro, who lets it hit him right in the chest. You wonder why he doesn't dodge, because you know he can. You've seen him react almost instantaneously before, most notably when you nearly spilled hot coffee on his lap—he moved so fast it was like he teleported. Why not get out of the way?

The answer is this: Jotaro is now allowed to snap. Having been hit with something, having been attacked, having been assaulted, legally speaking, he's not the one who escalated. Now it's self-defense. Now he's free to beat ass. "You wanna take this outside? Fine." And with that he leans forward, grabs your boss by the collar of his idiotic polo shirt, lifts the man over the counter, and drags him out the front door. The casual display of strength makes you a little hot under the collar.

You quickly finish Jotaro's second drink and grab both of them with your sweaty hands. As soon as they're safely cradled in a paper tray, you hurry outside under the guise of giving Jotaro his order, but you know full well you're really going to gleefully watch your boss get his ass kicked. It's gonna fucking rule.

Outside, Jotaro and your boss are standing across from one another, both doing weird poses that look worryingly unstable. You wonder if a freak gust of wind would be enough to knock one of them off balance—with the way your boss's knees are positioned, you're almost sure it would be. How is that even anatomically possible? And don't even get me started on Jotaro, who's leaning back like the goddamn Tower of Pisa and pointing like he's Phoenix fucking Wright. Are you an insane people magnet? You thought Jotaro was normal, for Christ's sake, but now he's just yelling in the street and doing some kind of elaborate LARPing.

When you came out here, you expected to see someone getting punched. You did not expect to see two grown men just stand and scream, flailing wildly as if they're dodging imaginary punches. Maybe you should go back in and empty the tip jar while your boss is otherwise occupied.

Then, it happens. "Fuck this," says Jotaro, before rearing back and punching your boss square in the face. Something cracks. The sound echoes.

Your boss howls with pain and you can't keep the grin off your face, glad to see the man who's treated you like shit for so long finally get what he deserves. You're not sure why Jotaro got involved at all, but you're so, so glad he did. ...Hopefully this won't have repercussions for you.

Crumbling into a broken heap on the ground, your boss says nothing more. He's not dead or anything, though, just injured and embarrassed.

Jotaro says his catchphrase and rolls his shoulders before walking over to you, one hand in his pocket. "Those mine?"

You nod, handing over the paper tray, face burning. You've never had someone stand up for you like that before. Standing there, looking up at Jotaro, you're overcome with the need to say something, anything, to express your gratitude. "Thank you," you say emphatically, though it doesn't feel like enough.

"Whatever," says Jotaro, not even looking at you. He takes the drink and turns on his heel to presumably walk away.

"Wait!" He stops. He turns. He looks at you, eyes narrowed. "Um. Seriously. I owe you one for standing up for me like that." Okay. Time to shoot your shot. The worst he can do is say no, right? You'll probably survive a rejection. "Can I make it up to you with coffee sometime? Or maybe dinner?"

He looks at you like you're the dumbest person alive. "You think I did that for you? I just wanted my stupid drinks."

"Oh, but I thought…"

"You thought wrong. I wanted my shitty drinks and your ultra-capitalist boss was getting in the way of that. If there was another barista there, I would've asked them to make it, since I'm sick of you making that nasty face at me, but you were the only one there."

So he did notice the goo-goo eyes. "But—"

"Yare yare daze." And with that, you feel yourself lifted off the ground, but Jotaro's not touching you. Before you can get even a single word out, you're flying through the air, landing with a splat in a nearby canal.

Wait, what the fuck?! There are no canals around here! There should be an Ulta here! Where did this canal come from?! How did you end up here, is Jotaro fucking telekinetic?! And WHAT IS THAT BITING YOUR ANKLE—?!