#Dio Brando imagines

[jojikawa]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙞𝙤: 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝘿𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙄𝙩 𝙈𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙏𝙤 𝙇𝙞𝙫𝙚? | 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙉𝙞𝙣𝙚

WICKED EYES

🦋 — Read all the previous parts!

🩸— This is a dark romance with descriptions of violence, gore, racism, sexism, and NSFW themes. The reader is black in this AU but this story can be enjoyed by all walks of life. This chapter contains manipulation. (no smut, no gore)

Art Link Dividers 3.3k words

“(y/n), tell me, what does it mean to live?” 

You froze in the middle of your actions. “Dio, what are you talking about?” You furrowed your eyes with concern. He didn’t exactly adorn his typical cunning look, but instead, more sullen. His thumb rubbed your inner waist tenderly as he held you.

It had been an indeterminate amount of time since your lustful night with Dio. Being held captive here with a stand user warping the mansion to prevent your escape made you lose track of time. You had gotten Dio to soften up by offering your body to him from time to time. But sometimes, your body isn't enough. To him, you weren’t just a body; a means to an end for his sexual gratification. You were a person, with a mind, and he wanted to know your thoughts. Your personality and intelligence are why he’s chased after you for so long. After all, his goal was to make you more like him. Today, he humbly requested that you sit on his lap and feed him desserts in an attempt to bond with you. It was him trying to follow Pucci’s advice for being a good husband but failing to make any sacrifices on his own part.

“You’ve walked free for 100 years. I want you to tell me what it means to live.” He reiterated. “I asked Enyaba but her answer was worthless to me.” You raised an eyebrow at his choice of words. “Worthless?” You stuck the fork you had been using to feed Dio into the slice of cake you were sharing. A sigh left your lips. “Why didn’t you like her answer?” You tilted your head. Dio rested his head in his other palm. “Because, how would an old hag like her know what it means to live? I could just ask the undying beauty in front of me.” You expected his mouth to curl into a sly grin as usual. You expected his eyes to narrow at you like you were a piece of meat but—he didn’t.

Dio’s face was somewhat neutral as if he were trying to think. It was almost—cute. Perhaps, you should try to humor him…for once.

“To live is to be happy. To be free.” You told him, somewhat thinking of yourself. You were trapped and hopefully, he’d get the message.

His nose crinkled up upon hearing your words. You feared he didn’t like your answer either. What was he expecting? You gave context, hoping that it would make him feel a bit better since he wasn’t exactly getting what you meant.

“While I was by myself, I did things that made me happy. New things that I didn’t even know I could be good at. Like singing.” You smiled softly, thinking back to your days when you’d go by many different identities to keep making new music.

“Singing? How boring.” Your husband rolled his eyes and shifted his weight in his chair so that he was now looking away from you. Your smile faded and you furrowed your eyebrows at him. “What’s boring is being trapped in a coffin for 100 years at the bottom of the sea!”

“Well, Darling, I didn’t have a choice. You did and you chose to entertain others. I want to hear more about your gluttonous adventures.” Dio began to smirk. He seemed to only be interested in what he liked and not what you liked. It sort of made you sad causing your neutral mouth into a frown. Your relationship was always just you trying to appease him and then he helps himself to whatever he wants, whether it be other women when you deny him, your attention, or your body when you’d finally give in.

“They weren’t ‘gluttonous adventures’ okay? I just can’t control myself sometimes—it seems.” Your gaze shifted to the ground. You were somewhat ashamed of your behavior. The more you tried to stop yourself from being a monster, the stronger that monster became. You heard Dio ‘hmph!’ next to you. “Well, for starters, you can stop starving yourself and feed freely.” His eyes returned to you before he instinctively got angry. 

“And if you didn’t know, you can always feed like this…” He raised his hand to your neck. His large hand wrapped around your dainty throat. His claws entered your skin but it didn’t hurt. “��so when it comes to feasting on those beneath me, use your hands and reserve your lips for me.”

“You’re certainly one to demand exclusivity while you go around and impregnate other women.” You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the newfound anger any time you thought of his unfaithfulness. Dio’s smirk returned to his handsome face. “Should I have punished you some other way? I would’ve taken your womb by force but…I already have it.” He chuckled darkly. He waited with anticipation of his first child with you. It would be just one of many and they would grow up to rule the world, just like him. He just hoped that they wouldn’t take after their stubborn mother. The last thing he needed were lions that had soft hearts like sheep. 

“And you’re oddly proud of taking away my autonomy.” Your eyebrows knitted together in frustration. You still didn’t like the language he used when talking to you…but that wasn’t a "you" problem. It was a Dio problem.

You had begun to lift yourself off of him only to be pulled back down. He secured his hand around your waist even further. “Oh, don’t you even think of leaving me yet.”

Dio leaned close. So close that his nose brushed yours. A smirk was plastered on his face and, for a moment, it seemed like he was about to kiss you…and you could tell he wanted to. His eyes were set on your plush lips that were already chapped from his excessive urge to press his lips to yours.

For a moment, it did seem like he’d kiss you until he pulled away. His eyes grew cold and he seemed annoyed that he needed to rip them away from your beauty. He looked around the room as if he heard something.

Enyaba suddenly entered the room. She mentioned something cryptic to Dio. Something about training the power of his stand. What power? The only thing you could call back to was your repeating actions the day you tried to leave him again.

His anger melted away before he released you. “I’ll come find you again.” He said as you got up from his lap. You wanted to ask what exactly he’d be gone for but you knew he wouldn’t answer you. The only way to find out would be to pry the information out of a servant..or use your stand on them.

You flashed him a charming smile. A smile that caused him to blush.

“Okay. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

Oh. So that’s what it meant to live.

Your smile. Your approval. Your happiness.

Your attention. Your body. Your mind. Your soul.

Your…everything.

Your motherly instincts made you check on Petshop. The sweet bird was just as loving as ever. Although you loved him, you couldn’t help but wonder why Dio chose a bird and not something like a cat or…dog. It felt as though he was mocking you—almost. You felt like a small bird in a cage of bones. A trap with no return. But Dio’s gift to you was a large bird. One that was free and could fly wherever it wanted. It would go out every day but return back to you with free will. Just thinking about it made your eyes fill with tears.

But before you could cry…you noticed something particular about Petshop. On his talons were…ice shards? At first, it didn’t mean anything but then you remember that you were in the middle of Egypt. It was much too hot for ice to last, let alone form at all. The bird allowed you to remove them but you’d surely bring this up to Dio later. You couldn’t help but feel like he was keeping things from you. Pet shop was beautiful but you couldn’t help but wonder where he came from. It was also clear that Petshop wasn’t an ordinary bird. He was somewhat larger than any bird you’d ever seen and despite being gentle with you, it looked ferocious. It had to be a while animal…

It was enough faking your happiness. What you really wanted was to find out how Joseph and his grandson were doing. Judging by the obvious, the boys must be successfully defeating Dio’s minions. The only other people who were close to you and Dio in the mansion were Enyaba and Pucci. In reality, he was more of a “friend” to Dio than to you but he often extended his kindness to you as well. You didn’t have any friends here. Dio’s minions “worshipped” you but the person who ultimately listened to was Dio. Any one of them would turn on you at the drop of a hat.

Some time had passed when you were with Petshop. You were mesmerized by your stand. She was so beautiful and although she looked like a humanoid creature, it felt the same as looking in a mirror when you saw her. You wished that you could fully understand her power. Enyaba refused to help you by orders of Dio and he had isolated you so much that you didn’t get to exercise your power at all. 

That was until…

“Lady (y/n)…?”

An unknown person has entered Dio’s private study. Petshop’s relaxed body was not at attention, ready to attack anyone who dared come to hurt his owner.

“Yes?”

You were lying down in Dio’s oversized armchair by yourself when they had come in. You sat up, unable to make out the figure in the darkness. The voice and build let you know that it was a man but it wasn’t anyone you had recognized. As the man got closer, he gasped upon seeing you.

“You’re just as beautiful as Lord Dio described.”

Your eyebrows knitted together. “Who are you?” You questioned, seeing the person who came from the dark. It was a tall man with white skin. He was paler than Dio and he had brown hair. His outfit consisted of a purple jacket and leotard decorated with a similar heart motif that your husband’s new yellow clothes adorned. The ones that Enyaba had just begun tailoring for him.

“Please, my lady, call me Vanilla Ice.” The odd man got on his knees, clasping his hands together as if he were begging for mercy. “Lord Dio has assigned me to be your personal servant from now on.”

Your eyebrows raised. “My personal servant?”

Petshop observed your body language before going back to rest. It seems Vanilla Ice wasn’t a threat.

“Why would Dio send you now? I don’t need to be served.” You crossed your arms. Somehow, you felt less sympathy the more often you saw Dio’s minions. Perhaps, you were jaded from knowing Dio all your life because you couldn’t understand how he was able to charm so many when he was barely charming in your opinion.

“I’m sorry, my lady, but Lord Dio insisted. I am not allowed to let you out of my sight.”

Your eyebrows knitted together. “Out of your sight? For what purpose?” You crossed your arms. “Explain yourself.”

Vanilla Ice began to sweat. You could see the droplets forming on his forehead. “M-My Lord has told me that I shouldn’t burden you with such details…”

“What? I just spoke to him. Take me to where he is right now.” You commanded, making the servant’s expression worsen. “But—” The man took a step closer to you.

“Now.” 

“Lord Dio doesn’t believe you should leave this room anymore. He’s told me that you may be jeopardizing his future plans.”

He was trying to lock you away again, huh? Well, you wouldn’t allow that. Especially not in this hot Egyptian Heat. 

“I don’t care! Take me to him right now or I’ll find him myself.” Just as you finished speaking, you felt a sense of regret. You didn’t know this man. Perhaps, you shouldn’t have yelled at him…but what is done is done.

Unbeknownst to you, Dio was only just training to harness the power of his stand, but he was taking time to create insurance for you and himself, solidifying the chances of his return. He knew you didn’t approve of his relationship with Pucci. You’d never stop pestering him about it and he didn’t want to risk your stand undoing any progress he’s made in grooming the boy into doing exactly what he wants.

Vanilla Ice couldn’t help but get antsy. He felt as though failing Dio’s orders would get him on his bad side.

Upon taking you to Dio, you saw that this room was much darker than most. Enyaba was there as well. If you were being honest, you began to dislike her. She filled Dio’s head with disgusting thoughts of plot and murder. You felt as though any progress you made in your relationship with him was undone by her. It made you want to kill her. That feeble old woman. 

“Oh? And what is this?” Dio’s voice held an innocuous tone. He didn’t see upset that Vanilla Ice couldn’t so easily contain you. Around his hands were purple vines with thorns. They looked slightly out of place as if they weren’t real. At least, you hoped that your husband wasn’t actually sprouting vines from his forearms. “I am NOT letting you lock me up again.” You hissed as you pushed your way into the room, disregarding anyone who may be watching. No matter how angry you’d get, Dio hardly saw you as a threat. He could even admit that he enjoyed it when you clashed with him. The thought of a pretty rose poking him with thorns kept him on his toes. No matter what, you fueled his love for you and his ego.

Perhaps, Ice was the wrong person for the job. 

“That’s fine. I won’t lock you away.” Dio manipulated his voice to sound inviting. Maybe he made a mistake. The two of you were doing so well together. The vibes that surrounded his hands and forearms grew and they subtly made their way over to you. Instinctively, you took a step back, not yet familiar with the variety of stand powers due to Dio’s constant sheltering of you and withholding secrets.

You backed into the chest of a large man. He held you by your shoulders, not allowing you to escape. The vines wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you closer to Dio.

You weren’t able to resist the sensation filling your body right now. It was from the vines. You reached down to try to remove them but that only made them hug your waist tighter. A smug look covered Dio’s visage. He waited until your bodies were only inches away before he spoke.

“What is your stand power? As my wife, you must answer and you must do it truthfully.” His hands settled on either side of your waist as the ethereal plants layered themselves around you. 

You had no idea what Dio was referring to…

You didn’t know what your stand did. You just talked to people and things happened.

Dio’s eyebrows knitted together slightly at your hesitation. He opened his mouth to speak but you finally spoke first.

“Mother’s Mercy can cause its targets to make better decisions.”

The man raised an eyebrow. His fingers squeezed slightly before pulling you a bit more forward. “What else? Is that it?” He asked you. Well, more so, he asked Hermit Purple. The stand was forcing you to give information. “Better decisions?” He repeated. In a fit of frustration, he let you go. He stepped away from you and his face became one of disgust. “How worthless.” 

A stand is a manifestation of the soul. You were his Queen, his Goddess who would rule alongside him. So, why has the universe granted you such a gentle stand?

“Enyaba, can I shoot her again? Would that give her a more ruthless power?” 

The old woman shook her head. “Shooting the arrow again would not have any chance of improving her granted abilities and it could disrupt the pregnancy.” She grumbled, pointing her walking stick at your belly. It was protruding a little bit. Weeks have passed since you got pregnant and now you are beginning to show.

“No, Dio, please. Not again.” Your voice was quiet as a mouse and you shook your head, recalling the pain you were in when you were first shot with the stand arrow. It felt like you had been boiled alive. The sensations were unnatural. Even with your vampire augmentation, you were unable to resist its torture.

“What good is a stand that makes my associates join my enemy? I should just lock you up and be done with it.” He began to pace around the room. “Show her out.” 

You felt Vanilla Ice tug on you but you didn’t budge. Snatching your shoulder away from him, you stepped towards your husband. “I am not going back to that room. I’m not staying locked up. I want you to stop this and call off your henchman from attacking Joseph and his grandson.”

Dio didn’t turn to address you. “And why would I do that?”

“Because, they didn’t do anything to you, Dio.” Your furrowed your eyebrows. A “tsk” sound left his mouth once you said that. 

“Do you know what Jonathan did to me…?” His tone shifted. He sounded hurt but angered as well. Dio strode over to you and grabbed your delicate hand with force. He raised it to his neck and your fingertips tips grazed the scarred issue that kept his severed head on that stolen body. “He did this. On the night of our wedding.”

“What was supposed to be the most special night of my life that I waited years for…” He let go of your hand and you let it fall to your side. You couldn’t tell if he was being vulnerable or arrogant but it seemed personal. 

While Dio might've felt like you were the only woman to ever understand him, the reality was that you didn’t. You were just able to adapt well to his unstable personality. Perhaps, that’s why he clung to you like this. Maybe, he knew and simply didn’t care if the two of you understood each other. Maybe…all that matters to him is that he could be himself and you couldn’t run away.

“So, you’re going to kill a random child because you feuded with Jonathan?” Your thumb ran over the tip of your index and ring finger.

Already, you memorized the feeling of his scars. You barely touched them. You never wanted to even though it was clear Dio yearned for it. He was too prideful to beg for it too. You didn’t want to acknowledge the confusing reality that you could be having the child of Jonathan. It made your heart want to burst. It made you want to disappear.

“Jotaro Kujo isn’t a random child. I want to destroy what’s left of the Joestars…” He made Hermit Purple appear again. “And if my minions can’t dispose of him then what better way than to do it with Jonathan’s body?”

The stand snaked up your arm and you could feel its imaginary thorns sinking into your skin. “And if you love me, you’d understand. Do you love your God?”

The same sensation from before took control of your body. So many things ran through your head but you couldn’t form any speech. “E-Erm…” you purse your lips but soon find yourself unable to make eye contact with Dio. His face became increasingly more alert. His pupils retracted as his eyes widened.

Hermit Purple vanished. You couldn’t answer even while being forced to talk.

“Get her out of my sight and take her back to her room. If she resists, use force.”

hey. thx for the wait.

@z3r0art

i cant remember if someone else was supposed to be tagged so pls let me know if you're missed.

[married-to-google-translater]

Dio Brando ( Part 1 ) Relationship headcanon

Relationship with Dio?

Oh boys.

Dio would be a really demanding and possessive boyfriend.

He really needs normal love and attention.

But he is not really aware of it himself.

Or really know how to say their needs out loud.

You probably met each other as children.

Because of this, Dio has some kind of trust in you.

He doesn't trust many people.

In short, Dio's world of thought goes like this: First come his needs, then come your needs, and he really doesn't give a fuck about other people's needs.

Dio likes it when you listen to him talk.

He would talk to you a lot.

Dio thinks it's because you admire him.

You really don't want to interrupt him because you know Dio would be angry.

An angry Dio is not a good thing.

Lots of talk about how strong he has become and how much better he is than Jonathan.

Don't worry you have it easy. Part 3 Dio is an even worse narcissist.

Dio would be the jealous type really easily.

Do not show empathy or interest in others.

Especially not Jonathan.

Yes, Dio is genuinely angry that you tried to help Jonathan who fell down the stairs because of Dio.

Dio thinks you should have complimented him on how he "accidentally" pushed Jonathan.

This man lacks almost all empathy.

You are also always the one who apologizes.

Dio doesn't really know how to do it and has no interest in learning it.

In general, Dio is a fan of public PDA.

Privately, however, he finds it difficult to show affection.

Unless it's somehow sexual.

Chances are Dio wouldn't turn you into a vampire right away.

He wants to enjoy the new power dynamic.

However, this waiting is his fate.

[sf3uuf]

I've been thinking about JJBA again...

[bebegi]

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

short compilation of texts that they sent you when they think about you ♡

genre: fluff | established relationship & lovers-ish [?]

warnings: none <3

series: kakyoin & ermes | dio [part 1] & narancia | ? & ?

notes: love making mean dudes all grumpy about his feelings tee hee

© bebegi 2024. do not crop the tag or claim it as yours in any way please, do not repost in other sites without asking for permission + credit, thanks !! reblogs are highly appreciated <3

[dollwrites]

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭��𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 — 𝐝𝐢𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, dark fic, noncon, fear kink, graphic depictions of death and gore, chasing, manhandling, threats against reader, degradation, virgin!reader, oral sex ( f!receiving ), size kink, blackout mention, Dio is very mean, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ sugar on my tongue by the talking heads

you could hear his laugh— evil and taunting— booming through the abysmal corridor behind you, and the hissing and snarling of his undead army that was also in hot pursuit. “Where are you running off to, hmm?” he calls, and the baritone surrounds you. he’s not everywhere, you try to tell yourself, it’s just the echoes. “I won’t let you leave the castle grounds. However, by all means, go on and try, get your sweet blood pumping!” another morbid laugh like distant thunder, and you take the first new hallway that opens up to the left. “I can smell it from here, that lovely smell will lead me straight to you.”

you’d made a mistake coming here so late at night, with a boy you hardly even knew. you’d kissed him, and let him loosen your corset, even though you felt uneasy. even though you’d never kissed a boy before. even though the whole night felt wrong. then, the laughter started. from somewhere deep in the blackest shadows, a predator stalked, watched, and found amusement in your innocent fumbling and uncertainty, and stepped into the light. he named himself Dio right before he ripped the boy in half right in front of you. some of his blood was still seeping into the cotton of your dress. what he hadn’t seen, however, was the jagged stone you’d hidden underneath your skirt, clutching it tight in the palm of your fragile hand. so, whenever he scooped you into his arms, and leaned in to taunt you, or perhaps even kiss you, you’d swung the rock as hard as you could, making direct contact with his sculpted cheekbone, breaking the skin. it wasn’t much, but it was enough for his grip to loosen enough so that you could slip through his arms and run.

you were panting, your lungs burning in your chest, your eyes puffy and sore from crying. but one glance over your shoulder yielded the confirmation; the reason you couldn’t stop— hundreds of ghouls had crammed themselves into the hallway, some staggering after you, others chasing you on all fours. you turn your eyes forward again, ignoring the hem of your skirt that catches on a dilapidated and unrecognizable statue, ripping a slit all the way up to your thigh, and both hands hit a sturdy door when you hit the dead end of the corridor, slamming yourself into it with a pathetic huff. luckily, the door, like the rest of the manor, is old and crumbling, and it whines as it flies open and you stumble over the threshold, only to let out a blood curdling scream.

inches from your feet is a pile of innards, and what could’ve been a corpse at one time, but has since been devoured, piece by piece, by the monsters squatting down over it. they both look up and growl, clumps of half-eaten human flying from their bloodied mouths as you stumble back. you wanted to collapse, but didn’t have the time.

countless pairs of gruesome hands snatched at you, dragging you into a horde of them. you wailed and fought against them, half expecting to be shredded, too. you weren’t, however you could hear — and feel — your dress tearing as they snatched at you. your neckline ripped, one sleeve hanging loosely against your arm and the other chunk of fabric lost in the sea of rotting bodies as they tossed you back and forth. your throat is hoarse from screaming when you’re finally spit out the opposite end of the crowd, and flung right into Dio’s arms, which welcome you with a tight grip on one wrist and the other palm splayed over your midriff, pulling your back to his solid frame. “No!” you cry out, but he’s already twisting your wrist.

“Now, now,” he croons against your neck, wringing your wrist until the blood-stained stone falls from your grip and clatters against the floor, “listen to that heart thumping.” you felt sick to your stomach when you realized he could hear it. “Fragile, little thing is about to beat right out of your chest.” you squirm, trying desperately to pull away from him, but his lips have sought out the cuts on your palm, turning it over to expose them to his mouth. first, they graze over the wounds, and you wince. “You’re about as nervous and dangerous as a newborn kitten.” his tongue slithers out to prod at the scratches, urging more blood to the surface, and he smirks as he tastes it. his lips then travel, parted and dragging over your skin, up your arm, ignoring the sleeve that hangs in tatters, and he presses you back into him tighter when he reaches your throat. “So soft— I could rip your jugular out with one bite.”

“P—please—“ you rasp, the tips of his fangs tingling against your hypersensitive flesh.

“Such a meek, little plea,” he teases, the expanse of his massive hand careening upwards over your breast to rest against your heartbeat, his digit tips just barely touching your chin, “what are you begging for, kitten?” he allows their sharpness to scrape, and you whimper, melting against him and hoping to become so small he couldn’t reach you. it was impossible, as his face was buried in your neck already, but you tried nonetheless.

“I—I don’t want to die…”

he laughs at this, as does his minions, and you feel a burning humiliation creep upon your cheeks. “No? Are you afraid of dying?” he asks, feigning sympathy, and his fingers take hold of your face. he angles it towards him, and your tear-filled gems look up at his stone-cold countenance. you nod, the scratch on his cheek was healing as you watched, and your mountainous captor stared down at you. the crown of your head is pressed against his chest; you were just so damn small compared to him. “Are you afraid of me?” another nod, and his crimson eyes flicker over your petrified expression. you couldn’t catch your breath— your lips parted and hot puffs of air wheezing out, your chest rising and falling beneath the stretched fabric of what was left of your neckline. you avoided looking into his eyes, but you could tell he was drinking in every inch of you. “Smart decision for a very stupid girl.” he replies, dipping his head towards you. you start to pull away, recoil, but his grip on your cheeks hold you in place. that devious tongue of his skirts along his lower lip, tasting your broken breath as it lands on his tiers. then, his carmine eyes flicker up to yours, and his smile widens, “Tell me that you fear me.”

you couldn’t even think— you were staring, wide eyed and horrified into two, piercing rubies. he wanted to hear how scared you were, he wanted you to say it out loud, but there was a lump so big and dry in your throat that you didn’t think you could force the words past it.

“Come now, don’t keep me waiting.”

you gasp when he squeezes your cheeks together hard, forcing your lower lip to poke out in a childish pout, and you acquiesce to his will. “I’m afraid,” you whisper, each syllable hard pressed to slip into the air, “I’m— I’m afraid of you—“

Dio chortles, closing what was left of a gap between he and you, and his tongue ran along the shape of your lips. you flinch, and seal them tight, but he’d already gotten his taste. “Mm…” he moans, more to himself, and runs his tastebuds over his own mouth, and then flicks at his fangs. “I do love the taste of fear on those pretty lips, like sugar…” he croons and places a sloppy kiss on your mouth. regardless of how you wanted to reject it, he forces your lips to fit against his with a hard push, opening them wide so that he may shove his tongue inside. you squeal in protest against his mouth, wriggling and desperate to get free, but his strength too greatly outweighed your own. your own tongue bunches up in resistance, trying to push his out of your mouth, but you start to gag on it. you considered biting down on his, biting it off even, but ultimately decided against it.

you were in no position to fight back anymore.

when he’s drank his fill of your kiss, he pulls back, the lips that have battered your own dripping and shiny with your saliva and stretched over deadly fangs, and you pant, twisting in his grip. he watches you for a moment, amused. “I would wager you taste just as sweet everywhere, don’t you?” you shook your head, cheeks on fire and eyes closed tightly, pulling in the opposite direction, but his hand drops, grabbing the neckline of your dress in a powerful fist and tearing it with a swift yank. the force is enough to arch your back, the fabric screaming, and then your breasts are bare and exposed, rising with heavy, nervous breaths.

there’s a whooping from the horde of undead as they crowd closer around, licking and biting at the air as if they can taste your fear in it, and you recoil away from them, pushing you deeper into Dio’s wicked embrace, which wasn’t ideal, either.

“Look at this,” he purrs, sharp nails dragging over your otherwise unmarked skin. they trace his name, slowly, as he takes in your visage, “skin so fresh and supple.” his eyes twinkle, pure malevolence behind them as the tip of his nail traces your nipple, watching it harden as he does. “I could think of a hundred different ways to paint you crimson, my dear.” you shake your head, whimpering in soft protest, and he cocks his head to the side, “What? You don’t think red would look so pretty on you? The color of roses?” he chuckles, grabbing a fistful of your tender breast and squeezing until you mewl and sag into the rough treatment, “Timid, little thing, aren’t you? Frightened so easily.” his head dips, tongue dragging along your nipple, and when you gasped, your thighs clamping together to stop the feeling of his teasing flooding your core, he reads you like an open book. “I think you like this.” you start to shake your head yet again, but his hand has already abandoned your chest, hiking your skirt up to feel between your thighs. they were slick with sweat and… something else. your desire and shame. “You’re dripping, kitten. Do you enjoy my teasing that much?”

your thighs press harder into each other, but his fingers work to pry them apart, slipping in between to feel your bare sex. you choke back a gasp, your only free hand grasping at his wrist trying to pull it from your core as you jerk against his rubbing, but it was as effective as an ant trying to push a thumb away before it’s crushed beneath the force. “N—no…” but, much to your own dismay, you were soaking his fingertips and he was howling with amusement.

“Well, now, isn’t this cunt just so sensitive— I’ve hardly even touched you, and you’re all jitters already. Could I have caught a little virgin in my web?” humiliation floods your eyes, and you close them tight, turning your face away from him and digging your chin into your shoulder. he coos, leaning close enough for you to feel the chill or his skin against your cheek, and the ghastly drag of his lips as he spoke, “Good. The first and only cock you’ll ever wrap around will be Dio’s, your new master.”

“…I want to wake up…” you beg under your breath. surely, this had to be a terrible nightmare. so you kept biting down on your lip and repeating it. “I want… to wake up…”

“Eh?” he asks, grinning, “Stupid thing thinks she’s dreaming.” a wave of vicious cackling rolls through the corridor, and you shudder. a moment later, you feel him shifting, dropping to his knees in front of you. cautiously, you crack one eyelid and look down to see him ripping what was left of your skirt aside. there’s a flurry of cotton before it all settles on the floor. you shiver, stumbling back. Dio releases your wrist and grasps one ankle, hiking it up on to his shoulder. it threw your balance completely off; even on his knees, the man before you was still monstrous, and you were forced to stand on the tip toes of the opposite foot to stay upright. “Let’s find out if fear makes your cunt as sweet as your lips.”

both eyes opened wide, but you had no time to react before he was smashing his face against your sex, the bridge of his nose creating a solid cradle for your aching clit, and the thick muscle hiding in his mouth wiggled between your netherlips, gathering the taste of your essence on to his tastebuds. he growled, and the sound vibrated against you, sending every nerve into overdrive. both your hands dig into his golden locks, pulling hard to attempt to force his head back, but the scratching and scrambling didn’t phase him one bit. he didn’t budge, instead he laughed, then his words were slurred against you. “Don’t be so ungrateful,” his eyes glint in the dusky moonlight pouring through a broken window, and it seems so shameful and sinful to look down your naked torso at him. you could see the muscles in your own tummy contract when he nuzzled against your clit, and you clamped one hand over your mouth to keep your moans quiet. crying out for how good it felt would only make this all too real— and would give him the satisfaction of knowing that you couldn’t control it. “Your new god is on his knees for you, lapping at your trembling pussy. You should be singing my praises.” none too gently, he snags your clit with his teeth, creating a vice around it and rolling his tongue over the nub.

you bleat, and your knees buckle— the sole leg holding you up giving out. but Dio doesn’t let you crumble. with one hand fleeing, he wraps a massive fist around your throat to hold you in place, the furious muscles of his gargantuan arm hard and bulging against your torso. the pressure is enough to startle you, even though he doesn’t squeeze. you imagine the beast of a man could break your neck with little effort. this new grip occupies your mind, and your hands try to wrap themselves around his wrist instead, but it’s even too big for your fingertips to meet.

“You are a pathetic little kitty cat, aren’t you?” he teases, suckling on your clit until you see stars behind your eyelids, and your toes are curling, “You can’t even stand up on your own anymore. Just a few, easy flicks of my tongue and you’re putty in my hands. Makes my cock hard watching you lose this fight, knowing you know you’re fucked.”

you don’t want him to be right, but when he punctuates his statement by licking a fat stripe between your netherlips, you cry out, and your nails dig into his tough flesh. “Please!! Ha— have mercy…”

“Go on,” he urges, “cry for mercy. Scream for me. It won’t change a thing. You belong to me, now, and I’m going to break you in every way possible, starting with tongue fucking never ending orgasms out of your delicate, little body until it gives out. You’ll black out, and wake up to my big cock stretching you open.”

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

What WOULD'VE happen if its the jofoes who saw a kid up skirting reader aka their darling?

I know they're villains and is very much cruel, but they wouldn't kill a child...right? (1-8, since the jofoes in P-9 haven't been revealed yet.)

Hmmm I could see a couple of instances of that happening, sadly (but I mean they are villains, but some are more restrained than others, perhaps more for image than anything)

Yandere! Part 1 (Pre Vampire) Dio - I could see this going with him yanking the brats hair and shoving them to the ground. It’s fairly easy for him to maintain his positive status to outsiders, so he could have something happen to them later (but I’d consider this the best outcome for that kid).

Yandere! Post Vampire Dio

Big chance this kid may die by being manipulated by Dio himself, he might decide to turn them/zombify them by apologizing and groveling (chance they could attack their own family). There’s also a chance the kid could just flat out be devoured by the other zombies, the blond wouldn’t even flinch at that. If he’s sorely out of patience he might kill/maim them himself, but it never would come to that. Keep in mind Dio was the type to turn a mother into a vampire and she ended up eating her own child.

Yandere! Kars

Absolutely no cares given about slaughtering a child, not even joking here. He only cares about you, not some slimy brat that decided to pull some nonsense on you. He’d probably lick you clean of the blood afterwards as well. No matter how mad or upset you got, would not make him anymore remorseful for the dead body strewn on the ground.

Yandere! Part 3 DIO

You’d more than likely be held captive in the mansion he’s in, within Egypt so this happening is unlikely. But in the unlikely event something like this happens, he’ll state how brazenly stupid such a move was. Unless he can use the kid in someway, he really doesn’t care what happens to them. So he might “punish” the kid as he sees it fit or have a stand user take care of them.

Yandere! Yoshikage Kira

As long as this kid didn’t see his rather “unusual” indulgences in the past, he doesn’t see a need to murder them right there, though I could see him consider it internally, where the kid wouldn’t be seen. He’s absolutely miffed however, and does grab their hand in a painful way though. Gives them the nastiest glare and reprimand there is, and the kid probably runs off heavily unsettled.

Yandere! Diavolo

Doppio is likely the one to take care of this of course, not that Diavolo he himself isn’t miffed. This probably just makes him consider to keep you locked away somewhere permanently. (This probably happens shortly after this little thing). Doppio makes sure to get it through this kids head, with the harshest grip known to man, that you don’t go doing that to anyone. Let alone anyone he or his boss likes.

Yandere! Enrico Pucci

His reaction is interesting, he is irritated perhaps even a bit visibly by this child’s behavior. He can’t let this kid get away with deciding to upskirt his darling either. He also is a priest image wise, so he has that to consider when punishing this adolescent person. He still has a firm grip on them and decides to take them aside and talk. He’ll face away from you while doing so, and moments later the kid is suddenly apologizing. You can’t tell if Pucci has an uncanny knack for speaking with people or if it’s something else. (It’s likely both).

Yandere! Funny Valentine

He’ll stop this kid almost immediately and there’s a sound of a smack to the back of the head. A stern look and a small speech about respect, Funny Valentine somehow manages to make the kid shame with those words. He wouldn’t let the kid run either and would personally escort them back home to their parents. As busy as he is as a president something childish like that won’t be overlooked by him. There’s a brief dark look in his eye, he can pull the strings to make things happen, he just doesn’t feel the need to expend them here. He does ask you to follow him closer for now on, (maybe an extra guard but he finds it more efficient to be the one to protect you)

Yandere! Toru

He certainly doesn’t appreciate it, and somehow they end up tripping or have some little mishap happen. Yet there’s a bit of a hum in his voice when he tells them he shouldn’t be doing such a thing to people. Any anger or frustration that gets thrown off at Toru, he nonchalantly brushes off. Suggesting the kid apologize, and nothing more will come of it. But there is a stern veiled threat in there somewhere that makes the kid decide to walk off.

[xbuster]

Ah fuck, it sure would be bad if famed manga JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure by mangaka Araki Hirohiko got tainted from Western influences. I hope Araki is able to keep telling his incredibly Japanese story set in Hawaii, Japan.

[cinnbar-bun]

Good Fortune

Pairing: Dio Brando x GN!Reader

Summary: Dio is told he is lucky, often. He can't see how, considering how awful his life has been. But after meeting you, the child of George Joestar's old business partner and Jonathan's friend, perhaps his luck has turned for the better.

Even if he refuses to engage with such notions.

Rating: SFW but it's painful

Word Count: ~4.5k

AO3 Link: Here

Notes: Childhood-friends-to-lovers, Phantom Blood!Dio, babes this just angst, talks of death and dying, death, religious discussion, religious imagery, Dio unfortunately falling in love, Reader is MENA! but it's easy to ignore, foreshadowing for parts 3 and 6 (no spoilers though), yes I made this to be self indulgent because I wanted to torture Dio because omg what if he went to Cairo specifically because his partner mentioned it?

Dio stares in front of the full-length mirror in his room, adjusting his suit and tie. George explained he was having an old friend over tonight for supper, making a brief comment about how said friend was also bringing his child over. Dio noticed Jonathan’s eyes widen and the smile adorning his face- obviously, they were acquainted from before he ever arrived to the mansion. 

He could only sneer as he thought of how obnoxious this ‘friend’ could possibly be. He couldn’t just antagonize them or Jonathan like he normally did, not when George would be around and watching. The thought of having to sit all night with that buffoon and a friend of his made him want to gag. 

Alas, one must do what they have to do to obtain wealth and power. If he wanted the Joestar fortune, he had to play the game correctly. Assuring he was in good standing with George and this guest would only serve him well in the future. 

And who knows, Dio chuckles to himself, maybe this ‘friend’ of Jonathan’s would slowly grow to hate the boy as well. He brushes his blond hair back, fixing it up properly. A loose strand makes him use his hand to push it back, and he smirks as he sees the three little birthmarks on his ear. He fixes his cufflinks and proceeds to walk out of the room, annoyed at having to put on airs, yet interested to see what will become of this dinner. 

The minute he steps down the stairs, there is a knock at the door. Dio curiously looks from the staircase at the large front doors that George himself approaches. The first thing Dio can make out is a large man, around the same age as George- perhaps a few years older if the few strands of gray hair are anything to go off of. Before he can take a closer look, Jonathan races down the stairs, accidentally brushing shoulders with Dio. 

“You damn-,” Dio snarls, but quickly shuts his mouth in case of anyone nearby. Jonathan didn’t seem to notice, instead jumping off the last few steps and running towards the guests. Jonathan yells out a name Dio doesn’t recognize, but the energetic boy is quickly put in his place with George’s hand on his shoulder.

“Jonathan! That is not how we greet our guests!” George scolds his son. Jonathan’s shoulder slink apologetically, like a beaten down puppy. 

Dio despises that look more than anything. He makes an expression of disgust before he hears some chuckling. 

“Oh, it’s alright, George, let the boy be! He’s young!” A jovial voice exclaims, and George sighs. 

“I’m aware, my friend. I just can’t help but worry about what kind of man he will grow up to be,” George muses, tugging on Jonathan’s ears. Dio’s ears pick up that despite the negative words, George isn’t angry at Jonathan. Jonathan himself isn’t too offended either. 

Hmph. Disgusting. 

Dio figures that he’s seen enough and makes his appearance in front of the guests. The man is clearly foreign and has some semitic features that Dio hardly has ever seen in Britain. He’s finely dressed, wearing a fancy English suit and plenty of gold accessories. Dio finds himself fascinated by the many rings on the man’s fingers. 

“My, my, and who could this be?” The man questions, a friendly smile on his face. Dio is frankly grossed out by the overly familiar tone the man takes, but bites his tongue back. 

“This is my adopted son, Dio Brando,” George proudly states. The man extends his hand to Dio and shakes it with a firm grip. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Brando,” he introduces himself then pats his child on their shoulder. “This is (Y/n), my only child. I assume you’re all the same age, so I think you’ll get along splendidly.” 

Dio glances at you briefly as you bow your head politely to him. “It’s very nice to meet you, Dio.” 

You look quite similar to your father, albeit, younger and more rounded, with the same features Dio finds rare on you. Your clothes are just as intricate as your father’s, clearly very expensive, making Dio curious about just how rich you and your father are. 

Dio bows his head back to you. “It’s nice to meet you as well, (Y/n).” 

Once the greetings are done, Jonathan goes up to you and excitedly beams at you. “(Y/n), did you bring anything for me this time?” 

Dio is almost tempted to smack Jonathan on behalf of George, but you chuckle and nod, seemingly not minding. You glance over to make sure the older men are not looking and open your satchel, taking out a red box. Dio and Jonathan peek at it while you remove the cover. Inside the box are small, pink cubes covered in white sugar. 

“Woah… what are these?” Jonathan asks. 

“Lokum, oh, ah, ‘Turkish delights’,” you say in English. Jonathan is about to take one when you close the box and shake your head. Jonathan pouts after being denied, probably due to his love of sweets. “After dinner. Otherwise my father might lecture me.” 

“Turkish delight, you say?” Dio repeats. “So, I assume you and your father must deal within the Middle East, correct?” 

“Yes. He was born there, then moved here to start his business,” you pridefully comment, always happy to share how proud you are of your father’s hard work. 

“Interesting…” Dio thinks. He frowns when he thinks of his own drunkard of a father, and the gross feeling that dwells within him bubbles upfront. How nice it must be to be happy for your father. How wonderful it must feel to be proud to share the same DNA as the man who had created you. He can’t point to a single thing he enjoyed about Dario, can’t even count anything nice the man has done on one hand except die. 

Yet you look to hold your father in such high regard, perhaps even moreso than Jonathan does to George. Likewise, your father keeps smiling at you and flaunting your accomplishments to George, as if you were the best of the best. As if you were the most wonderful thing to have ever graced this earth. 

Dio can’t help but feel disgusted and so, so jealous that you get a father who adores and spoils you like nothing else. You don’t even have a mother, but that doesn’t seem to damper you. Any hope he had of wanting to meet you is squashed by the hatred and rage he feels for your relationship. 

----

You write letters often, Dio finds out. Now Dio knows why Jonathan is always so excited to check the mail. Soon after leaving the dinner party George held, Dio started getting letters addressed just to him from you. 

Apparently, you were too stupid to understand that Dio wanted nothing to do with you and actively despised you like he did Jonathan. Or maybe you just didn’t care, since you began writing about anything and everything you were thinking of as if you were old acquaintances. Dio once snagged Jonathan’s letter from you to see if the tone was any different, but almost nothing was, except for mentions of a historical places Jonathan would like to possibly visit. 

At first, he burned them away, not interested in whatever mindless rabble you had to discuss. He had no interest in history, none in studying, and absolutely none for whatever rich person you had just met on the road. Jonathan writes back plenty, but in order to save face, Dio writes back, only very rarely, pretending as if he actually cared. 

It isn’t until his birthday that he sighs and relents, opening up the package you had sent. He rolls his eyes at the well wishes you give him (although he does wonder briefly how you knew his birthday) but finds two wrapped gifts in the box. 

In the first one, thinner and longer, is a selection of the Turkish delights you had brought over the first time you met. He actually hadn’t bothered trying it then, mostly due to his disgust with you and the fact Jonathan looked like he was enjoying himself when he took a bite. 

He snorts and rolls his eyes, about ready to throw away the sweets when the smell of the powdered sugar and rosewater drifts into his nose. It is… certainly unique, he thinks. Nothing like what he’s ever smelled before. He places the box on his desk again and glares at it, as if the treats were personally ruining his day. He folds his arms and stares at it some more. 

He should throw this out. Never look at this and just write a quick ‘thank you’ so you felt appreciated or something. But still… the powdered sugar dusting the outside, the sweet, sweet smell of it- it was far too tempting. He clicked his tongue and picked one up, groaning at the way the sugar dusted his fingers and part of his suit. 

“Disgusting,” he mumbles before he takes a large bite of it. The taste is nothing like what he’s ever had before, and he nearly chokes at it. He coughs then swallows, taken aback by the taste. It’s… it’s quite delicious. He’s never tried something so wonderfully sweet, something that overtakes the senses quite like this. Roses make an interesting flavor profile, he muses. 

Wait, no, what is he thinking, getting excited over this stupid gift from an annoyance like you? He closes the box of sweets then opens the last box. Inside is a ring, similar to the one your father wore at the dinner party. The ring had a large amber stone, and Dio twirls it in his hands, fascinated with how the light catches the stone. 

This must have cost a fortune. He chuckles as he picks up the note to go alongside the ring. 

My father and I thought a ring would be a good gift for you. He says that it’s always wise to have something nice on your hand. It can bring you good luck and make you stand out. I hope you like the color- he was going to get you the blue one, but this one reminded me of your eyes. I thought you might appreciate it more. 

Happy birthday, Dio. 

You sign your name at the bottom and Dio finds himself biting his lip harshly. It’s really frustrating how you always naively try to think of him like this. Who said he wanted your damn sweets? Who said he wanted your rings? Or your good luck? Who said he wanted anything you had? 

He shakes his head and gazes at the ring again. He hates himself, so why would you dare get something that is meant to be of him? This body that he despises, how could you covet it in a god damn ring meant for him? 

You bother and enrage him like nothing else. He always thought this was because of your friendship with Jonathan, but this just cemented that the hate he felt for you was entirely just because of who you were. Whereas Jonathan was an obstacle he needed to rid of for the Joestar inheritance, you were someone who actively treated him like a damn charity case. 

You must have thought you were so clever and kind gifting these things to him, weren’t you? 

Fine. If you wanted to be a useful idiot for him, then he would make sure to get the most use out of you. The violent rage he had boiled over into interest and excitement. He grabbed his paper and pen, quickly writing a letter back to you. 

This time, however, he made sure to be more expressive than he normally would have. He laughed loudly as he signed the paper in a hurry and sealed it within an envelope. This could be quite enjoyable. 

Imagine him- getting rid of Jonathan and using you for his own gain! Not just one- but two means of success and fortune! Oh, you were a delightful idiot through and through, he thought as he threw aside the lid to the dessert and popped in another cube. 

----

The years were kind to Dio. Ever since his plan to use you came to fruition, he slowly refined it to working his way up to being able to ask for your hand in marriage. He spent years cleaning up his act, faking his way to the top, even joining the rugby team and a university to study law. He was practically the perfect man- attractive, intelligent, resourceful, strong- why, anyone would be lucky to have him as a son-in-law and husband. 

The interest he deemed to show you in his teens made you reciprocate his affections. You began writing longer letters for him than you did to Jonathan. You would stop by and visit, not even for Jonathan, but just for Dio now. You two would have long discussions in the gardens, on the road, and in the library of the Joestar mansion. Your father practically adored Dio as a son, always patting his shoulder and joking with him more casually. He was an admirable prize, one that was practically handing himself on a silver platter for you. 

Except, somewhere along the line, like a damn fool, Dio made a mistake in his normally thorough plans. Somewhere, somehow- you managed to make Dio enjoy your presence. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

When he first started trying to get your attention, he often would do so at the expense of Jonathan. He just liked pissing his brother off while he would drag you away as if he had something urgent to say to you privately. He would aggrandize and embellish his stories, making himself seem far more noble and special than Jonathan was. Of course, Jonathan, ignorant as may be at times, wasn’t stupid. He knew right away Dio was up to no good and tried to warn you, subtly take you away, or even insert himself into the times when Dio pulled you aside. 

Nothing worked, however. You either didn’t notice or didn’t care, always brushing aside the warnings and believing in Dio wholeheartedly. It was cute- misguided, frankly- but cute, nonetheless. Especially after Dio did his best to mend his relationship with Jonathan, Jonathan found he had no leg to stand on and tried to leave the past behind him, wishing you two only the best. 

Good, thought Dio. He was tired of having to play nice with his Jonathan, and now that Jonathan had no chance of stealing you away from him, Dio could enact his plan still. And that’s what it should have stayed. 

But fate was far more strange than Dio realized. One day, he would find himself listening to you more. While before, it was just to keep track of your stories to use later, it now became an interesting part of his day. Another day, he would naturally seek out your hand to hold- not as a means to make you swoon and desire him, but just for his own comfort. And on another, god, he couldn’t believe this- he found himself imagining what a ‘home’ could be like for you and him. 

You somehow managed to imprint yourself in his brain, filling his head with stupid, ridiculous, and childish thoughts. He found the hushed whispers he spoke in your ear to become less and less false as time went on. He found the way your cheeks would warm up made him grin and not smirk. He found your voice pleasant and the words you’d say become clearer. He found his body recoiling when any other man, especially Jonathan, tried to talk to you. 

You ruined him. You ruined everything. How dare you? He could afford plenty of things now, yet he continued to wear that damn amber ring on his finger. You adored his eyes, and for once, he found himself almost agreeing whenever he looked in the mirror before he would take you on a date. 

You. Damn. Worm. 

You must be the devil. You must be some evil snake charming him and destroying him inside and out. He couldn’t accept the fact that he, Dio Brando, was actually enjoying your presence in his life. 

You spoke of the trips you took with your father for business. You loved almost all your destinations, bringing back souvenirs and charming photos for him. But one city always stood out to him. 

Cairo. 

“Oh, yes, the city is wonderful there,” you mused dreamily. “There are these beautiful pyramids-” 

You point at the photos of these pyramids and he’s become interested in these monumental landmarks. Jonathan made a mention of them once, he thinks. 

“And what are these pyramids for, exactly? Why would someone just build these with stone in the middle of a desert of all places?” Dio raises a brow. Although he’s impressed, he finds himself questioning the worth of these structures. You chuckle, a sound he’s grown to enjoy. 

“The ancient Egyptians lived here, Dio. They built these pyramids and all sorts of buildings for their final resting place,” you smile. 

“Tch, how pretentious,” he teases. “You sound far too happy talking about a place of death.” 

“Perhaps, but you know, death isn’t so bad.” Now this makes him pause. 

“And what do you mean by that?” Dio questions. You shrug. 

“Well, for them, they believed that when you died, your heart would be judged and you could go to the Field of Reeds, Aaru.” 

“Similar to western dogma,” Dio mumbles. He never had such faith in things like ‘God’ or a ‘heaven’. 

If God really existed, he would have helped Dio’s mother. He would’ve made Dario a better father. Would have made Dio feel safe. 

But there is no such thing, no such tangible way to prove that God did exist. And it seems these ancient humans were just as foolish as the people of today. They would continue to believe in something that did not exist and did not love them. 

“Yes, you could say that,” you nod. “But I think the idea is nice overall. Don’t you think?” “I don’t understand what could be considered ‘nice’ about it,” he frowns. 

“I like to think of it as a second chance. Another way to live, having gone through the struggles of your first life. You’d know more and appreciate more.” 

You don’t notice the way his face tenses as he grits his teeth. Even if there was a god, in no way shape or form was Dio ever going to be in ‘heaven’. He could push that aside right away. He was the son of Dario, and that certainly already meant he was sentenced to eternal damnation. 

“I see,” is all he says. You snap your fingers as you then show a picture of a gorgeous terracotta mansion. 

“I almost forgot to show you! We got to stay in this beautiful place. Oh, it was just wonderful inside. I think you’d love it. There was a lovely garden there, too. I wish I could take you there, I’d show you everything Cairo has to offer! And you could finally taste the dates when they’re ripe and the festivals that go on there!” 

“I would love nothing more,” he replies, suddenly thinking of how hot Cairo must feel. He wondered how you would smile if the festivals were going on. How lovely the night must be with you in it under the lamps and palm trees of Egypt. “Maybe we can go for our honeymoon?” You lightly smack his shoulders and laugh. “Don’t tease me like that! Otherwise I might make you propose tomorrow!” 

“I could have that arranged,” Dio leans forward, resting his chin on his hand. 

“Let’s focus on our studies first,” you chuckle. “I really would love to marry, but alas, our fathers have decided to make us wait longer.” 

“Alas,” he joins in, the thought of finally being yours and you being his making his heart swell. 

Only you could offer Dio this momentary salvation. This brief respite of peace despite the anger and hatred he held in his heart. This was a feeling only reserved for you, the you who practically forced your presence and love onto him. 

It almost didn’t even feel like a part of his plan to gain the two fortunes, even though he would force himself to remember this was just business. Ah, but you made it so easy to enjoy life. You made him forget for a moment he was not the son of Dario Brando. You could made him forget he was a maniacal bastard orphan, instead making him feel he was Dio. A new Dio, a Dio no one could have thought ever existed, even him. A Dio that was just a man, for once. 

He would become Dio, the man who would pick you fresh roses. Dio, the man who carried you over puddles on the street. Dio, who enjoyed drinking tea with you. Dio, who loved when you slipped into your mother tongue. Dio, who held you when you cried. Dio, the man who would get curious whenever you would remark joyfully about his birth marks, saying he must have been lucky. 

The only thing “lucky” about him was you. That’s all he could genuinely point out in his life as “lucky” and “good”. 

So slowly, and foolishly, the only thing he could do was simply let you in deeper into his heart, letting you carve your initials into him and marking him as your helpless servant. 

----

It had now been two months since your passing. Dio returned to the mansion in a drunken stupor, finding he was unfortunately still aware. 

Aware of how empty he was. How angry he was. How much he despised everything. 

Why the hell was Jonathan crying over you? Jonathan knew nothing about you. Jonathan didn’t love you or care for you anywhere close that Dio did. 

That rich boy who had everything handed to him and given to him just for existing knew nothing of the pain Dio was feeling. 

He didn’t deserve to cry over you. Didn’t deserve to feel a god damn thing about you. 

Dio was the one supposed to marry you- not him! So Jonathan should have left and let him grieve properly over the fact his betrothed was now gone. 

Was this God’s way of punishing him? Huh? Was this his sick joke? A reminder to him that no matter he did, he was never meant to be happy? 

Was that all his life was? One meaningless, empty joke for God to amuse himself with? 

Dio couldn’t help but burn every letter he had kept from you over the years. He didn’t need them. With a bottle of alcohol in his hand and a few letters in the other, he held them over the fireplace and let them burn to ash and dust. He didn’t care. Couldn’t care less. 

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing could ever bring him satisfaction. Nothing could ever bring him joy or peace. He was obviously not meant to have it. 

Even your own father tried to console Dio, having thought of him like a son, but Dio couldn’t bother. Your father promised to give employment and a portion his fortune to Dio still, already securing his future wealth. 

But that wasn’t enough. It was not enough. For every ounce of love you tried to give Dio, he felt a thousand times more angry at the world he lived in. 

He didn’t need this world. He didn’t want any of this. He couldn’t live like this. 

He couldn’t die like you- oh god, no, he couldn’t. He’d most certainly be punished and made to repent for his sins. 

As he burned the last of your letters, he downed the rest of the alcohol, burning his throat. He could not muster anymore tears, not after he laid the roses down on your tombstone. Dio Brando was dead and buried alongside you. 

All that was left of him was his hatred. 

So close to having everything he wanted, and now it was all gone. 

He was so close to even giving up his earlier desires to torture Jonathan, instead content to protect your father’s business and travel with you after he finished getting his degree. But now he had nothing to hope for. 

Drunk as he may have been, he found himself thinking like he did when he was a young boy. 

Yes… I’ll just kill them all. I’ll ruin them all. I should’ve stuck with that plan originally. 

He cursed himself between hiccups, cursing himself for daring to let you in, letting himself feel safe around you, letting himself be vulnerable and able to be torn to shreds by you. 

It was his fault. His fault for all of this. If he hadn’t acted a fool and loved you, he could’ve had Jonathan gone, perhaps disowned or dying in a ditch somewhere. He could’ve been the richest, prodigal son of Britain. He would’ve been powerful then. He wouldn’t have had to have you extinguish every ounce of life within him. 

He was no longer human. He was now Dio. Only Dio. 

Dio, who hated everything. Dio, who had no love for anything but himself. Dio, who wanted everything erased. Dio, who had become exactly like the man he despised most. 

He hated it all. 

In his anger, he picked up the pictures you had given him and threw them all in the fire. He hacked out his lungs when the smoke billowed from them and surrounded him. A few photos began to melt before his very eyes, but for some reason, one of them caught his eye. 

The terracotta, three story mansion from your trip in Cairo. The one you wanted to take him to. The one you two dreamed about going on your honeymoon for. The one you joked about possibly buying and redesigning to make it your home forever. 

He gasped and grabbed the photo, blowing out the flame quickly and saving a majority of the picture. The corner was burned off, but the picture still remained. He held it to his chest and let out a shaky breath. 

Cairo was something he could never give up. Cairo, the only place that would allow him to be with you. Cairo, the place where you two promised to go. 

You promised. 

So why…? Why? Why, why, why? 

But Cairo would have to wait. He had something he needed to do first. Once he could get rid of Jonathan and George, and everything else that would stand in his way, then he could go there. 

I will find you again in Cairo, my (Y/n)...

[dollwritesarchive]

one of my favorite headcanons for dio is that he doesn't allow his darling to wear panties. maybe even forbids it. he just loves easy access <3

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, dubcon, edging, fingering, little bit of degradation/humiliation because dio is and always will be a big meanie, almost blade play ( his sharp ass nails ), suggested past abuse / sexual conditioning ( from dio ), orgasm denial / control, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ it’s always a good day when i get to write filth for the man, the myth, the legend: dio brando. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

“Do you even have the faintest clue why panties are forbidden, pet?” Dio asks, without looking up from the book resting against his crossed knees. “Page.”

with your fingers trembling, you obediently flip the page he’s done reading, shaking your head with a muffled and shy, “Nn— Nn.” with the hemming of your skirt stuffed into your mouth, you’re forced to bite down on it and keep it in place, high and out of the way of your vampire lord’s malignant digits.

the room was icy cold, but you weren’t trembling because of that. your thighs were shaking and sticky from his constant, torturously slow stroking of your sex. the length of his finger slotting between your weeping folds to probe, and you clench around air with a timid whimper. then, his thick knuckle grazed in circles, until your back arched and you tried to ride it. he would, then satisfied with your desperation to be stretched open, drag the sharpest point of his dagger-like, abysmal nail to tease your tender clit, threaten to cut into you.

your body wants to jerk back, escape his cruel taunting, but you were trained much better than that. you stood as still as you could, with your knees bent inwards against each other so that they don’t buckle, and watch his hand disappear between your legs as he tenderizes your sex, and then reappear a few moments later, sticky with your essence.

“No?” he teases, quirking a brow, but his crimson eyes stay locked on the page he’s currently reading, “Of course not. Why should you? After all, does a lapdog understand why it is that her master smacks her muzzle for yapping too loudly? Or does she simply accept that to yowl incessantly will get her popped in her pretty, little face?” there were memories behind his metaphor— the scariest moments of your time with Dio, when you disobeyed or annoyed him. you, too, had found your cheek stinging from his massive palm making contact, and had been banished from his lap to sleep on the cold, hard stone floor for your insolence.

“Page.”

you turn to the next. and you nod to show that you understand: it didn’t matter if you knew why Dio put the rules in place that he did for you, all that mattered was that you obeyed them.

“But, I will tell you.” two fingers worm their way to spread your netherlips apart, and you mewl and grip bundles of chiffon with your teeth, saliva soaking through the fabric. “I will never allow you to wear panties because of this right here. How easy it is to edge your soft, warm cunt when she’s completely exposed. Vulnerable.” when you shudder at the sordid way each syllable rolls off his sinful tongue, you catch a peek at his impish grin, before he jabs his middle finger against your entrance, with just enough force to feel your canal try to welcome the digit in, but he doesn’t slip it inside.

“L—Lord D—Dio!” you cry, the need to feel him take you all but overwhelming and you careen against his hand, hoping to coerce his fingers inside, “P—pleeeethhh…” you mumble, slurred, through your makeshift gag.

“I will have your little cunt drooling and tender for me whenever I please. Like she is right now, so hungry for cock that you can hardly stay upright. Milking air, wishing, begging for me to fuck it. You want me right now, don’t you? You want nothing more than for me to hollow you out? Break your body and your mind with my cock?”

you nod fervently, eyelids heavy with lust from his words alone, and your hips twitch and wriggle, whining for him to do whatever he wanted to you.

his eyes turn up from the page, and stare at your visage, nearly convulsing on his palm, before his tongue scrapes over a pearly fang, one signature dimple visible in the candlelight as he croons. “How much longer can you take this teasing, I wonder? Minutes? Hours?” you were shaking your head, hot tears in the corners of your eyes, but he kept going, as if he enjoyed how nervous the idea of being edged for hours made you. how frightened it made you. “Or perhaps, I leave you soiled and needy now, and play with you every day following, you’ll wake up, tied to my bed, with me between your legs, sucking on your sugary cunt— bringing you right to the very cusp of orgasm and then snatching it away from you no matter how you beg and cry for a release, until you’re so sensitive that the very sound of my voice in the dark alone forces you to cum.” your eyes roll back, defeated and moaning pathetically as he pulls his hand back from between your hips. your jaw hangs slack; the skirt of your dress sagging back into a skewed version of its place, and Dio shoves his dripping fingers into your mouth instead, forcing you to taste just how badly you want him, pushing them deep until you gurgle and choke on them. “The possibilities to torment you are endless and exciting, my love, and that’s why you will never wear panties again. Turn the Page.”

[byakuyacoochie]

My what big boobies you have - Various x Reader

Characters: Jonathan Joestar, Dio / Uvogin, Knuckle, Morel

A/N: Inspired by this video, I tried to write for some characters I had never written before...so I think they might all be a little ooc..I also may have forgotten to finish this one so it's a little rushed!

[chloesimaginationthings]

What if Pucci met Makima and Denji met Dio…

[jojikawa]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙞𝙤: 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙚𝙙 𝙒𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 | 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙁𝙤𝙪𝙧

WICKED HEARTS

MASTER LIST

Author’s note: This is a POC FRIENDLY blog. I am a black girl and I want to write more fics that don’t leave the reader racially ambiguous. This is self-indulgent and I’m just sharing it with you. Jojo is far from realistic. So, I don’t need to be either. Please don’t leave hate! Thanks!

This is a DARK romance so there will be toxic relationship themes, NSFW themes, descriptions of violence, and gore. There will also be unintentional sexism and racism from the characters toward the reader. The reader is canonically black in this AU but it is written for people from all walks of life to enjoy.

dividers by delishlydelightfuldividers

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

An awkward silence filled the room. You were sitting at the vanity dresser from before, as still as a statue. You were unable to bring yourself to move. You pondered on your situation. Out of everyone in this world, why did you have to be the one in the eyes of Dio? Not in a million years you would have predicted such an outcome. Without even realizing it, you acknowledged your appearance in the mirror. Dio’s rose was still in your hair, which you removed. You lifted your upper lip, inspecting your new fangs. The fangs you penetrated Dio with. 

“What is your name?” You let go of your lip and spoke to the terrified girl in the corner of the room. She was supposed to be helping you into a wedding dress Dio had come across but she was too scared. You didn’t make her help you. Not that you needed any at all.

“A-Aya.” The little girl answered nervously. Her voice was still firm as she tried to hide how scared she was and failed spectacularly. “How did Dio get to you, Aya? Why were you not inside? Did he take you from your home?” You tried to manage your hair, moving as slowly as a snail. This situation was hitting you so hard. What was the future supposed to look like for you? You’re getting married to Dio and there was nothing you could do about it. A part of you felt like he would only be more destructive if you refused. He’s never raised a hand to you but he had no remorse for taking his frustrations out on innocents as a means to an end. 

“I-I was looking for my little brother, P-Poco. He’s always missing curfew and my father asked me to go find him.” She choked out, another cry was coming on. 

You sighed. “Well, Aya, it’s safe to assume that Poco is probably dead.” You bluntly stated, not thinking at all about what you were saying. It was harsh and inconsiderate. This only pushed her to cry. Once you realized what you had done, you stopped trying to fix your hair. You sighed again, getting up out of your chair.

Aya noted that your aura and demeanor didn’t feel as threatening as Dio’s. You looked beautiful in your dress. The fabric was a deep red that made your skin look amazing. The color was as if Dio harvested it from the blood of his enemies. Your hair wasn’t perfect but its messiness almost looked to be intentional. Your soft nature clashed with the razor-sharp teeth that only showed themselves when you talked. “I’m sorry.” You looked at her with half-lidded eyes. “Poco could’ve gotten away or hid. I’m just…bitter.” You informed her. “Now, can you help me get this corset on, please?” You asked politely, voice still laced in sorrow. Aya didn’t need to be a body language expert to see that you weren’t happy at all with your situation. She instantly knew this marriage was forced. 

The girl sheepishly nodded, gaining the courage to finally stand and help you. She assisted with your corsets and layers of fabric. You always imagined yourself being married—just…happier. After spending a long time with Dio when you were young, the only man you could imagine yourself marrying was him. You also imagined yourself wearing something purer like a bright white. Aya helped bring your hair up into a neat updo style, you tucked the clip of the red veil into your hair.

During this whole process, you didn’t speak. Not much or even loudly for that matter. Your replies and directions to the girl were always hushed and hurried. Your body was adjusting to your vampire transformation. Some lights were too bright. Even the light of the moon. Your ears were noticeably more sensitive and you found your eyebrows always being subtly knitted together as your mood became permanently annoyed. The same way one would get when they feel a headache coming on. 

Aya had only just finished helping you before the silence broke. Dio entered the room, his outfit not at all different from before. Perhaps, he felt as if he didn’t need to dress for such an occasion. 

“My goodness. You look so much more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.” Dio made his way towards you, pushing Aya to the side as if she were a peasant getting to close to his trophy. You stayed silent, not at all greeting your soon-to-be husband. He grabbed your face, tilting your head upward so that his lips were only inches away from yours. You held onto his arms as he held you like glass. The man wanted nothing more than to kiss you right here. Oh yes, the idea of kissing the woman he’s been deeply in love with since he were a boy. He knew that women would claw each other’s eyes out to be with someone like him but he wanted you. He thought himself an honorable man for being so loyal during a time he didn’t have to be. 

You averted your eyes, too saddened and nervous I receive his “loving” stare. “I-“ You opened your mouth to speak when he quickly presses his lips to yours. Even with your new vampire strength, Dio still proved to be stronger than you, holding you close and not at all allowing you to resist his love. Almost abruptly, he let you go before licking his lips. “Much more savory than I remember.” Is what he would’ve said if he hadn’t seen the sullen look on your face. It gave him flashbacks to the day the two of you “broke up.” 

Why did you look happy? You’re getting married to him—you should be happy. Overjoyed even. 

“What is wrong with you?” He narrowed his eyes at you. “Don’t you love me?!” He blurted out, startling Aya who was already making herself small in the corner. 

“I do love you do. Or, at least I did.” You whispered sadly. “I barely even know what’s happened to me but I already know it’s permanent.” You removed your hands from his arms, having them retreat back into your body as you hug yourself. “You betray your own father and turned yourself into a monster. You stole my future away from me by turning me into a monster too. Now I’m stuck with you.” Your face began to burn with distress. The air you exhaled was hot like fire as you fought back tears. 

Dio took offense to your words, seeing it more as a plain insult rather than an expression of what he was doing to your psyche.

“Stuck with me!?” He repeated, putting so much emphasis on “stuck” like he was disgusted with your choice of words. “I’ll have you know that any girl born to slave parents would be honored to-“ 

slap!

Dio held his cheek in awe. If one didn’t know any better, they would’ve thought Dio had been stabbed in the heart just now. Never in a million years would he have thought you’d raise a hand to him. You were always so kind, so gentle and so, so very patient with all the vile things he would conjure up in his mind. 

“Don’t talk about my parents.” Your voice cut him like swords and your eyes burned holes into his body, stronger than any amount of Hamon ever could. All Dio could do was stare at you, his eyes were now doe-like, reminiscing at how you used to be and what you could’ve been if it weren’t for him. “If it weren’t for my father, you wouldn’t even know me.”

Dio only knew a little bit about your father. You rarely spoke of him, but he remembered the story you told him all that time ago. Your parents were slaves. Your father wanted a better life for his pregnant wife and worked himself to death, buying her freedom. Even then, it still wasn’t enough. The Pendletons took you off the streets.

“You will NOT do that again.” Dio declared. It was hard for him to be angry because he was beginning to realize that he liked it when you would raise your voice at him. “You are lucky that I am above hitting women.” He hissed before turning on his heel and leaving the room. When his presence was gone, you sighed. It felt like you had been holding your breath forever. You didn’t know what came over you. You didn’t want to be like him and react with violence. You also forgot that Aya was still in the room. “Aya, after the wedding, I will get you out of here.” You suddenly said. “Now, come.” You directed her to take the long end of your dress and hold it as you walk. The girl obeyed. 

As you exited the room, waiting for you was a disfigured creature. It meekly held a bouquet of flowers. You took it from…it before continuing on your way to find Dio. He disappeared rather quickly. “Wh-Where is your master?” You questioned it, trying not to show the fear you harbored for its appearance. 

“Lord Dio waits for you.”

Its voice made you sick to your stomach, reminding you that you were speaking to something that was no longer human and craved flesh specifically. “Take me to him.” You replied lowly, trying to match Dio’s energy and commanding them the way he would. You turned to Aya before saying “Stay in the room. I will come and get you as soon as I can.” You promised her with pleading eyes. The girl shuddered and grimaced at your request. The girl reluctantly nodded. She didn’t like the idea but she had to trust you. 

The creature did as you asked. As you followed, you thought of all the possible ways you could get Aya away. You didn’t want a child slave. No child should be a slave at all, let alone a slave for you. You knew what it was like. Going along with Dio’s marriage was your only hope of bringing some clarity to this situation. Perhaps, as his wife, you could talk some sense into him? Let the girl go, you’d tell him. Get rid of these monsters, you would say. 

But it was all just your way of coping. There was no way to get ahold of Dio. 

As you entered the room, your heart felt like it was frozen as you held your breath. Your mind was still back in that dark room, combing your pretty hair with your pretty white dress. 

Or was it red?

“I always knew red would make a better color on you.” 

His sly voice reached your ears, pulling you back to reality. Within a second, Dio was only inches away from you. His hands inspected your curves. The tips of his claws brushed the thin thread that held your corset together. They traced up to your bust where, again, your chest was practically bursting in the small corset that you were given. “This looks tight.” Dio growled at you with a grin. “I must loosen it for you.” His claw tugged at the ribbon that held your top together with your bottom. You narrowed your eyes. “Dio.” You placed a hand on your chest, preventing him from going any further. “Let’s just have the wedding.” You said quickly.

The room wasn’t elegant enough for a wedding and nor was the castle. The fire burned bright in the corners of the room but it was nothing compared to the moonlight that illuminated your features in the night.

“Eager to be my bride? You never cease to amaze me.” Dio took your hand in his. He imagined himself as the ultimate prince—no, God, finally claiming what would be his forever. “I’ve given you a gift no man ever could. Your beauty will forever be eternalized. What we had as children can transcend the bonds of time…”

You listened to Dio ramble about his “love” for you. It was hard to believe this was even real. You kept hoping that you’d wake up and then scold yourself for sleeping for so long. Then you would ponder on why you’d have such a vivid dream. 

“But I have one more question. You must answer honestly if you intend on being my wife and carrying my seed.” Dio brought his index finger and thumb to your chin. He made you look up at him, baring his fangs at you. “What is it, Dio?” Your eyes began half-lidded. Your mind almost left the conversation again before he spoke.

“Were you in love with Jonathan at all?” 

Your eyes narrowed. “Wha-“

Dio’s voice deepened. “Did you ever love him?” You looked into his eyes. He was serious. Was he…jealous?

“No, I was never in love with Jonathan. Nor was he with me.” You answered, honestly. “He was always in love with Erina.” You added. Dio let go of you. He remembered the time Jonathan let it slip that you had taken care of him after his fight with him. He saw you come to his football game, cheering for Jonathan of all people. Hanging off of his arm as if you belonged to someone else. 

“As you say.” Dio took a step away from you. “Bring me our rings,” Dio commanded the fused monsters around him. A disfigured zombie with no jaw and rotting skin brought Dio the two small pieces of jewelry. “Who did you steal these from?” You asked innocently. Your goal wasn’t to offend him but it was Dio. He was always offended. “I didn’t steal them. I had them made. What do you take me for?” Dio slipped the ring onto his finger. You purse your lips, preventing yourself from retaliating any further. Talking to him was…so hard now. It wasn’t the same. It could never be. 

Dio hesitantly reached for your dainty hand. He rehearsed this moment in his head for such a long time, even before the mask. He wanted nothing more than to finally have. Words couldn’t describe the euphoric feeling that ran through him. The anxiety that once would get when first confessing their love. It was something that was so foreign to him, yet so pleasant. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand only for a moment before he gently placed the diamond ring on your finger. It sparked in the moonlight and could even glow in the shade. Though his wedding band was dull, Dio did not care. As long as it was clear you were taken.

Your absentmindedness came to a halt when Dio saw that you were closing the distance between the two of you. You avoided eye content, keeping your gaze downward as you motioned him to bend down. His height on you would always cause an issue for you. When he complied, you meekly pressed your lips against his for a chasté kiss. The thoughtful act only lasted a moment before you pulled away, but Dio wanted more. All he wanted was more of your love. His arms trapped you, bringing you into another kiss. It was like your lips were candy, but these could’ve been his imagination. Your lips were better than any candy he’s ever had. 

Suddenly, the only door in the room was forced open. Dio gasped—jumped at the sound. He let go of you, bringing his full attention to the intruder. It was…

“Jonathan?” You called out softly, utter shock filling your body. Dio blocked your vision with his huge body. “I’m back from my time in hell, Dio.” Jonathan invited himself inside. It wasn’t until then he noticed you. “(y/n)?! You’re alive!” Then the man furrowed his eyebrows. “Damn you, Dio!” He cried. “Let that fair maiden go! I thought she was dead because of you! All of London thinks she’s dead!”

“Still as loud as always, Jonathan.” Dio forced his cool demeanor to now show weakness. “You dare not speak to her, as I am her God now. The world is better off not looking for her.” He grinned at JoJo. “I see that you are also alive now, that’s curious, isn’t it?” Dio stepped towards JoJo. A batch of creatures dropped from the ceiling, surrounding you so that Jonathan has no quick way of getting to you. “But I suppose that indicates that you’ve defeated my two knights.”

“Dio!” Jonathan growled, preparing himself to finally fight this cursed man. “No! Jonathan! Don’t come any closer!” You warned. “These creatures are undead! Dio is a monster!” You tried to push your way past the hellspawn but they seemed to have orders from Dio to keep you from leaving. 

“Don’t worry, (y/n). Jonathan is mine and mine alone. I’ll kill JoJo and you’ll finally see him for how pathetic he really is.” Dio’s smirk faded. “But I will take no pleasure in doing so, as we were raised under the same roof. But before I do, I must ask you one question.”

For a moment, Jonathan looked perplexed. He was not the smartest JoJo, but even with critical thinking, he couldn’t think of any reason why Dio would want to ask him something at a time like this. 

“No, Dio-“

“At any point, did you ever have feelings for someone other than airheaded Erina? (y/n), perhaps?” Dio cupped his hand around his ear, pointing it towards Jonathan as he waited for his answer. This only made JoJo much more angry!

“The only woman I’ve ever loved is Erina!” He shouted, clenching fists as Hamon sparked out. Jonathan wasn’t completely oblivious; he knew Dio was always jealous of his friendship with you. 

“Do you know what I think JoJo? I think you’ve lied for the last time.” Dio crossed his arms. “When I look into the eyes of my beloved, I see the truth. When I look into yours, I see a boy who’s torn…” 

Behind Jonathan emerge more people. People you didn’t recognize. These were the others that JoJo was traveling with. They were a rather strange lot of characters, but anyone other than Dio was a blessing. You just were unable to understand how any human could get out of this situation alive. 

Much to your horror, the humans fought Dio. The first man, Dire, died attempting to deal the first blow to the vampire man. Dio displayed powers you had never seen before. He could freeze his victims with just a touch. Even though his clothes, if he touched you then he could free you. Dire was just a head now. He used the last of his hamon to fill a rose with it before spitting it at Dio. That was when you realized something. Something important. All this time, you’ve been shying away from Dio. As children, he was bigger than you; stronger as well. When the two of you grew up, he got even bigger while you remained small and needed to be protected. Men always preferred women to be this way. They were easier to control. 

But now, things are different. You possessed the strength of a dozen men. All the things Dio could do, you were able to do as well. If your husband couldn’t listen to reason and thought of himself as God, then you needed to be his adversary. It was the only option left for the sake of your loved ones. How could you face your best friend and the family that helped raise you if they knew you didn’t stop Dio from killing her lover? Hell, you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself. 

Dio was distracted now, going on about how the rose Dire launched injured his eye. In a swift motion, you used all of your strength to strike the monsters holding you back. You cleaved all of their heads off at once and they fell to the ground with an audible thud. You helped the humans as Jonathan fought Dio. 

It was like a blur. Jonathan didn’t allow you to help defeat Dio. He didn’t believe that such a fair maid had to see such a thing, to begin with. The man defeated his vampire adversary. JoJo removed his head with his sword, causing Dio to cry out. 

As Dio fell from the balcony, his body began to crumble from being filled with hamon. You ran over to the edge, not at all believing what you were seeing. Yet, it was true.

Dio even called out to you. The sound of his dying words gave you goosebumps. You couldn’t help but tear up. Why did things have to be this way? Could this have been prevented if you just stayed with Dio? Was this blood now on your hands?

“(y/n)…” Jonathan called breathlessly. He was tired from the battle. He fought someone who was no longer human by the way. “Jonathan!” You ran over to him. He looked like he was about to collapse. The young man examined your face and the pain that washed over him was indescribable. His eyes watered up before tears effortlessly streamed down his face. “(y/n)…” his voice was uneven and he dropped to his knees. “I couldn’t protect you from Dio! I’m sorry!” He cried. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. “Oh, Jonathan.” You kneeled down to hug him. “There was no way you could’ve known.” 

Behind JoJo, you saw the human men approach the two of you. They seemed to have similar powers that allowed them to take out the zombies easily. Their eyes burned with a fiery passion that was stronger than any hamon. “It’s best that we put an end to all that’s left of the mask.” The young man with long black hair said. JoJo struggled on his own but he gained the strength to shield you from them. “No! You can’t kill! She’s my friend!” He shouted, holding you close to his big chest. “J-Jonathan! It’s okay. You don’t have to protect me.” You squeeze your eyes shut.

A different man stepped forward, this one wearing a funny top hat with a scar on his face. “But it’s just a lady! She can’t be as evil as Dio, can she?” His voice was shaky as he had witnessed Dio’s carnage firsthand. The last thing he wanted to believe was that there would be another version of Dio. The revenge of a widow? No thank you!

“She is Dio’s bride. There’s no use in keeping loose ends.” The older man took a step closer. 

“I swear, I’m not like Dio. I didn’t ask him to use the mask on me!” You shouted. “I’ve known her since I was a boy. I take full responsibility! Just don’t-“ before the young man could finish, he passed out. Your eyes widened. You felt his breathing slow. He passed out!

The man with the top hat ran over to pull Jonathan off of you. “He’s worn out. JoJo’s been in more fatal fights tonight than a man should have in his lifetime!” The man said. “The name’s Robert E.O. Speedwagon, but you can shave off the first part and just call me Speedwagon.” He held out his hand for you to take it. You hesitated but you had no choice. “Er…Speedwagon.” You repeated to get used to the name. You stayed close to him since you were still afraid of the foreign hamon users. You felt like introducing yourself would put them at ease. They weren’t gonna kill you, right?

“My name (y/n) (l/n). Dio kidnapped me just after the Joestar mansion fell.” You began to explain. Already, it didn’t seem like they care all. All except for Speedwagon. He perked up at the sound of your name. “JoJo’s told me a lot about you! All of London thought you were dead, but Jonathan here knew that Dio got you once we knew the bastard lived through that fire!”

“Fire?” You repeated. “Were you there? Can you please tell me what happened that night?” You tugged at the man’s arm. Was it inappropriate for him to admit that he found you extremely attractive? 

Yes.

“Y-Yes, I was there. I met Jonathan that night as well. Dio was supposed to be arrested for the poisoning of George Joestar but then he used the mask and killed everyone except me and Jonathan. We had no choice but to set the house on fire.” Speedwagon noticed that with every word, the pain on your face became more apparent. “S-So, it’s true?” Your voice pitched up with sorrow as you accepted that Dio was a monster before he used the mask on himself. 

Due to Jonathan’s pleas and Speedwagon’s charisma, the Hamon masters spared you. Despite that being good news, the overwhelming hold in your heart would never easily recover from such a terrible circumstance. You’ve witnessed more death than any human should and even got to see the hybrid creatures that used to be people as well. You returned to Erina but only for a little while. The girl greeted you with open arms, balling her eyes out at the sight of you being unharmed. 

Then she saw your attire. You now adorned all black, wearing a black dress that covered your skin, leaving everything to the imagination. You had also been wearing an oversized Victorian bonnet that cast a shadow over your face, leaving only your eyes to be seen. They were different too, glowing bright red and festering with hunger. Somehow, the news of your transformation hit harder than the news of your supposed death. Now you could never rest as a creature of the night. 

You stuck around for the wedding of Jonathan and Erina. You were the best maid along with Speedwagon was the best man. You could sense him making his advances toward you but you’d always snuff out any ideas he may have gotten about you. It was quite humorous, actually. 

The couple planned to sail to the United States. You supported her decision and waved them goodbye as their ship set off. It took some thinking, but you came to the conclusion that you wanted to be a singer. There was no realistic way you could return to your previous occupation as the owner of Sweet Magnolia. The last thing you wanted was to resume things after that experience. 

Plus, it would be extremely hard to explain your reappearance after being declared dead. Your new life was overwhelming at first but perhaps it could be the beginning of something exciting. You could do…anything you wanted.

Anything. 

Your mother used to tell you that you’d have a good singing voice. It was the only way you could occupy yourself while doing chores back at the Pendleton mansion. Now it was time to test such a thing. What level of fame could one woman achieve with all the time in the world to practice and perform? Your career started slow. Not many people wanted to hear a woman they had never heard of before, but within a few years, you were able to perform at small gatherings for the first time. Networking proved to be a challenge but you began using your looks and wits as a way of convincing others. There was no longer an underlying fear of being attacked or harassed because of your new power. You felt like a queen who was taking in the world. Although, you knew better than to abuse your powers. You were still a good woman at heart. 

The horrors that caused the death of Jonathan Joestar didn’t reach you until it had long passed. Speedwagon found successful after also traveling to the United States. He became a wealthy man with his share of oil. He had men from his new organization send you an old letter from Erina along with the news that Jonathan has died.

“Dear (y/n),

This is Erina. I don’t know when I will be able to get this to you but when you receive it, please come to New York right away. The day Jonathan and I left for the Americas, the ship was attacked. Dio came back and was able to turn members of the crew into hideous monsters. Jonathan died protecting me. Now, I’m alone.

I’ve now seen the horrible things Dio has forced you to witness. I can’t be alone. I know that all you want to do now is leave your old life behind, but I need you.

-Erina.”

Tag list: @z3r0art ❤️

Hi guys! Like all my other stuff, this is not proofread very well. This is all for fun so I’m sorry if my writing style sucks lol

I’m also sorry for this part coming out much later than the other parts. I’ve been doing a lot of irl things to further my education in writing. I wanna write for video games and I honestly would love to be apart of the Riot Games team. I qualify to be a narrative writer for Legends of Runterra but I must live in Los Angeles…I don’t live there XD so yea. But I’m gonna keep improving. But yea that’s why I’ve been busy. I’ve been writing a lot of stuff that’s not for tumblr haha.

Up next will be the retelling of Stardust Crusaders. It’s supposed to be more sexually explicit than Phantom Blood bc I imagine Dio’s perspective of being a gentleman changes. Before I begin releasing that part, I’ll make an interlude telling the story of the female MC before Dio inevitably comes back with Jonathan’s body ❤️

See you guys soon! Thank you so much for all of your support! 💕

[married-to-google-translater]

I have an interesting idea. Reader is a friend of Jonathan, Dio tries to attract Reader but Reader rejects him because Jonathan told what Dio has done to him and Erina, which makes Dio surprised to see that Reader didn't fall for his charms but this makes Dio feel more obsessed with reader.

Dio Brando

Jonathan has a friend?

Well, not long if Dio can make a difference.

Dio has a "destroy my adopted brother's relationship" speedrun going on.

And you were going to destroy it.

Okay you were friends with Erina and Jonathan.

And you had heard stories about Dio's "nice" personality.

You didn't think much of it though.

Because Dio didn't show any interest in you.

At first, Dio would focus on destroying Erina and Jonathan's friendship.

Next would be the turn of you and Jonathan's friendship.

Dio tried to approach you with charm and kindness.

But you… weren't really interested.

Dio had never seemed like someone you could get along with.

So you would avoid him.

Dio wouldn't understand that.

This will make him try to hang out with you more.

Dio wouldn't take no for an answer.

Imagine if he tried to kiss you… and you punched him in the face.

Dio really doesn't know how to handle this.

You really can't get rid of him.

Even when he becomes a vampire.

Dio's obsession would still exist.

Maybe he should get a life XD

[almondx1ao]

Curiosity doesn't kill the cat {Dio fluff}

_________

Cw: nothing just fluff

Word count: 742

_________

You were a curious little thing weren't you? You asked him so many questions and of course he was proud to answer them, this was Dio we were talking about. Of course he was going to take any opportunity to talk about himself. Dio was proud of himself and his accomplishments, but that's not what you wanted to know. He had boasted of his accomplishments all the time, so you already know of them.

What brought you the curiosity you had for 123 year old vampire was that he had existed in the 1800's, you weren't necessarily a history buff, but it's not everyday that you meet someone that old. So now the two of you laid in a dark room, the only illumination was the light from the dancing flames of the candles that surrounded you. The glow danced across your face as the flames swayed as the kept the room lit. Your eyes looked at him with a sparkle of excitement sparkled in them, the way they always did when you looked at him. His golden eyes looked over you, he couldn't help but be intrigued by your curiosity for him.

Dio let out a small chuckle and moved his hand to push back some of your hair behind your ear before cupping the side of your face. His palm pressed against the side of your face and squished up against your cheek, his eyes scanned your face to see your reaction,

"Darling are you sure you don't want to hear something more entertaining?"

He coaxed in a low voice, a slight smile pulled at his lips. You shook your head,

"It's only one in a million chances you get to talk to someone who can recall their time in the 1800's, What was it like?"

You said, you weren't going to let up were you? He rolled his eyes,

"It was hardly worth your interest my dear, definitely not in comparison to the wonders that this modern day and age holds."

You huffed a little,

"Well yes, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I want to hear about it."

Dio pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling away and looking into your eyes once more,

"Maybe I will eventually tell you, but for now can we talk about anything other than what it was like in my past life?"

You looked into his eyes, behind the suave and confident facade you could see a sense of anger and sadness behind the charming golden glow. Dio would eventually share the good things he had experienced back then. Although they were few and far in between. A lot of the reason he didn't want to talk about it is because the memory of Dario Brando tainted his mind. He didn't want such a cute and curious little thing to ever know the horror of his self proclaimed father.

"Fine, fiiiiiiinnne."

You say as you hum and tap your chin in thought, eyes wandering until they found his once more,

"I'm curious."

Dio found a chuckle in his throat once more and let it out, when weren't you curious,

"What is it my love?"

You tilted your head as you looked at him, he knew you were probably going to ask a silly question, but he didn't mind talking to you and giving an answer he liked your curiosity,

"Do you ever miss how the sun used to feel on your skin, or its warmth in general?"

Dio's eyes widen just a bit but he chuckles,

"In my strive for power I never really considered the things I would miss. I guess you could say that, or we could consider something else."

Dio said, causing your eyebrows to furrow in curiosity,

"And what would that be?"

Dio felt a smile pull at his lips as his arms wrapped around you and pulled you close,

"Because my dear, you bring me the warmth that the sun used to give me, I don't need the warmth of the sun as long as I have you."

He said as he buried his face close to your cheek, giving it small kisses. Which caused the rose color that bloomed on them to grow, you buried your face in his shoulder in attempts to hide it, but you felt his hand grab your chin and turn your gaze back to his as he tsked,

"Let me see that pretty red color my love."

[bebegi]

BLEEDIN' ME DRY ⚝ DIO

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥.

genre: modern au | dio x reader (+) mariah, vanilla ice and steely dan

warnings: lots of vampires, mentions of blood but nothing specific

notes: got this idea while over-obsessing with dio hehe hope is not too cringe :3

notes²: the actual playlists:

pov: a vampire is in love with you

let me suck your blood

© bebegi 2024. do not crop the tag or claim it as yours in any way please, do not repost in other sites without asking for permission + credit, thanks !! reblogs are highly appreciated ♡

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader ( service top ), power bottom!dio, pegging, restraints, degradation, masturbation ( him ), all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day eighteen [ dio brando + pegging ]

you could beg him all you wished.

you could scream and cry your please, masters until your throat was raw, and you choked on the dryness of your own mouth, but he still wouldn’t give you any pleasure. he was determined to make you suffer, and suffer you were doing, exactly.

Dio elicits a soft, throaty chuckle at your pitiful whimper, and he tilts his head to one side, peering down at you. “My, my, is my little possession feeling entitled, today?”

the visage of him hunkered down over you, knees spread wide and balancing on the balls of his feet, was driving you insane. your blurry eyeline trails along the slick, rubber cock that disappears as he descends upon it with a symphony of breathy grunting accompanying the action, and you’re so envious. he takes the fake phallus akin to the way that you usually take his cock, and even from your position, flat on the bed with your arms bound to together at the wrists above your head, you could see the way the pinkish ring clenched around the toy as he fucked it.

“I love that look on your face.” Dio swoons, wrapping one mighty fist around his cock and pumping in merciless, rapid-fire strokes, while his other palm rests on one knee, and he bounces up and down on the toy strapped to your groin. “That envious look. You hate to watch me have all the fun, don’t you?” your master muses, a devious grin etching his lips over sharp, pearly fangs. “What’s the matter? Do you hate me for not letting you feel good, too? Do you want to curse your master for it?”

“N-no, master…” you whine, laying your head to the side, watching him use you, before you added in a soft, pathetic tone, “I just… am begging for you to touch me, too. Or, a-at the very least, let me touch y-you—“ your eyes glue themselves to the way he jerked himself off; you could offer a much softer, warmer grasp. hell, you would even let him spit on your hands until they were dripping, that way your grasp felt more like your drooling cunt.

Dio’s brows screwed into a distasteful scowl as he huffs, and reaches out to plant his free hand on your chest, instead. the power and weight behind the movement is enough to knock the breath from your lungs, and you croak in response, eyelids fluttering. “Do you think me so weak, little fuck slave, that you could bat your eyelashes and pout, and I would give you exactly what you wanted?” he didn’t wait for an answer, sneering, he leans closer, his hips rocking back and forth as he takes to toy to its hilt, and moans in satisfaction. “You want so badly to feel pleasure, too, but your master has no use for your sloppy hole today. I want to get fucked,” his harsh words and the disregard he holds for your own ecstasy adds fuel to the wicked eroticism of this moment— of your master using you for his own gratification. “And, if I have to tie you to the bed and strap a fake cock on you in order to get what I want, I will do so. And you will thank me, once again, for the opportunity to please me; it is a privilege not many are gifted.” his abysmal, razor like fingernails scrape at your chest, dragging along one, hardened nipple, threatening to break your skin, and you shudder. “Because you, my little piece of meat, are little more than furniture to me.”

your eyes roll back at that.

why did your pussy clench when he compared you to furniture?

had Dio Brando truly broken you to the point of getting off for him, even as he demeaned you, and reduced you to nothing of worth?

you gargle a moan, your back arching as if in hopes to drive the dildo deeper into him, but his weight crashes down on you, pinning you in place. “Master!” you cry out, tears in your eyes, as your core weeps for his attention. a flick of his finger, at the very least, underneath the leather harness. “Please! I am going mad!”

“Fuckable furniture.” the rough pad of his thumb scrapes against the slit on his broad, pink tip, before he thrusts himself into his hand, gripping and moaning, swirling his hips to feel every inch of the cock jammed inside of him. Dio throws his head back with a happy grunt. “And furniture doesn’t fucking move. Furniture doesn’t beg for attention when it is owed none. Furniture is silent and subservient, dearest fucktoy.”