thejojosanctuary - Tumblr blog

thejojosanctuary · 22 days ago

Note

Ok so mermay is over but Merman Joseph is so funny tho lol. Love that you kept the "crawling away while playing dead" part 🤣

What are your HCs for him? Imagine if after their little incident he becomes curious of Y/N and tries to see them again?

-Mermay may be over but mer AUs live in my heart and brain all year round anon. I'm glad you liked that part it honestly had me giggling the entire time writing it imagining it happening.

Went with some general hcs for Mer!Joseph, as well as how he'd be post-meeting!-

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼 ⋆｡˚⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼 ⋆｡˚⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼 ⋆｡˚⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼 ⋆｡˚⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼 ⋆｡˚⋅˚.ଳ

General HCs

★ Joseph’s hotheaded nature comes mostly from being one of the only young mers in his pod growing up. Younger mers rely a lot on being socialized young, to acclimatize to different social climates but also to make it easier to integrate with other sea creatures and merfolk. This is typically accomplished within the local hierarchy, since a standard pod usually consists of many family units; and depending on the area and general population, maintaining connections with the other local pods is vital to avoiding conflict of interest.

★ Joseph however grew up in a relatively small pod with just him, his grandmother and uncle Speedwagon, so Joseph can be…touchy around others. It’s not for lack of trying of course; Granny Erina and Speedwagon did their best to help him socialize amongst the mers that they knew, and often encouraged him to take a calmer approach. Try as they might, his reckless nature was just something that Joseph simply couldn’t shake with age, and more often than not he puts his fin in it interacting with others.

★ It’s unspoken, but a lot of that is because Joseph is veeeery protective over his podmates. While Erina has been more than capable of caring for herself and those that have come and gone from their pod in her years, the poor mermaid has been through enough hardship to last a lifetime. The same goes for Speedwagon too, and Joseph will be damned if he doesn’t make sure tragedy never befalls them again; if he happens to stir up trouble and twist up some fins for any other mers, so what?

★ With that being said he’s still a troublemaker - will antagonize the bigger fish just for the hell of it, sunbathe on whaleback undeterred even when they roll him off or if he’s too close to the blowhole just straight up rocket him off. His granny warned him on getting close to humans, but of course those warnings could only stem the tide of his curiosity for so long (he thinks it’s because she’s worried about what they’d do to him if he got caught. It’s actually because of what he’d do - which in the end only served as a self fulfilling prophecy.)

★Is on a larger scale compared to most merfolk in regards to size, which seeing his grandfather isn’t all that surprising. Out of all of the joestars, Jonathan was certainly the largest mer of the bloodline but Joseph is a very close second. Has a brighter color scheme too - greens and teals with faint yellow patterning that are only really visible under bright, direct lighting.

★ His tail and markings were a lot darker and duller when he was younger, as are most young mers in their early years. With time though as he grew his tail took on the bright hues that you see today; a beautifully vibrant shade, but it makes him terrible at camouflage and any attempts to blend in. Joseph stands out like a sore thumb, and has an equally bold attitude to match - he’s loud and proud and ready to rope someone into his next mischievous scheme.

Post-Meeting HCs

★ Joseph makes good on his promise to get you those fish and then some that same first meeting. Despite assumptions that he’d disappear the moment he’d sunk back under the waves, you’d been pleasantly surprised when he reappears half an hour later to unceremoniously dump an armful of fish across your deck with a grin that just screamed expecting praise.

★ He makes a couple more of these trips; granted, he eats more than his fair share in between and you have to scold him on the mess that he’s making on the floor since he’s got as much dinner etiquette as a dog. The sun hangs low in the sky by the time you have to start directing the boat back to shore. The moment you do he’s gone from the boat before you can blink - doesn’t even really give you a chance for a proper goodbye aside from a shout that he’ll see you around before sinking out of view - whatever that means.

★ Joseph checks to make sure that you’re definitely leaving - certainly not just to watch this weird human he’s just met hop off of your boat and vanish into the mainland hefting the haul he’d snagged for you until he physically can’t see you anymore.

★ Yeah. That’s definitely not a thing he did.

★…Okay maybe for a second.

★ Once the initial adrenaline rush of your first meeting wore off (because even with his foolhardy front and his size, you’re the first human that he’s ever had a close encounter with) Joseph quite literally cannot stop thinking about you. At first it’s the exhilarating feeling of pulling such a risky stunt and having it work out in his favor; not just his usual antics but an honest to god encounter with a human?

★ The entire swim back home he feels like he could take on the ocean, wanting to brag to any and all passing mers about it - quickly decides against it upon realizing neither granny Erina nor Speedwagon would be particularly pleased to know he’d ended up in such a perilous (not) situation - Erina definitely would have him by the gills about it, even if he’d come back in one piece.

★ That rush fades however when he realizes with a sudden clarity. What had convinced you let him go? Better yet, though you were equally scared at first you’d relaxed around him just as fast, going from tense to snarky yet forthcoming the moment you’d mutually clocked that you posed no threat to the other. You’d taken the time to set him free, didn’t ask for anything in return in spite of the damage he’d caused to the metal monster you had hanging off of the tail of your boat. You never made any plans to see him again either, none that you mentioned, anyway. And for the mer that just won’t do, now that he’s met you.

★ It’s a few days before he sees you again. You’re further out to sea this time, and with no net in sight now he doesn’t have to worry himself over getting caught…again. There’s no grand flourish this time around, no theatrics of having to be rescued or arguing as you’d freed him. He glides up alongside your boat with ease, sliding his arms up along the handrail till he can comfortably rest his weight against it and pulling himself up to wait you out.

★ Joseph’s smile is all teeth watching you walk by with a passing glance, only to hastily backtrack with a double take at the sight of the merman hanging over the railing acting like he’s always been there. He plays it up too, giving a nonchalant whistle and complaining that you sure kept him waiting - worry no more, your favorite mer has arrived to keep you company!

★That is to say, you’ll never know peace again thanks to this Joestar.

★ Every trip out to sea from this point forward is now spent in the company of the overly chatty and overactive merman.

★ He tries to take you by surprise, which when it comes to Joseph who is about as sneaky as a foghorn, rarely works. The one time he did catch you off guard he’d taken a magazine to the face for his effort - it was a knee jerk reflex when you’d looked up from reading just to find Joseph’s foolishly grinning mug nose to nose with you. Your magazine was sentenced to a watery grave for the trouble as he’d rolled right off of the handrail with it still stuck to his face, so you’d called it even when he’d resurfaced scrambling to peel back the soaked pages.

★ The questions. Never. Stop. Many a trip is spent with him floating beside your boat, hands laced behind his head and tail creating ripples along the water’s surface while he poses hypotheticals and prods you for answers.

★ Joseph is curious by nature, and there’s enough of a barrier between marine life and humanfolk that there’s plenty about humans he knows nothing about. Sure, there are mers that have interacted with humans before, but this is his chance to learn from the source; he’ll conveniently ignore the part where you tell him you’re not a mouthpiece for the whole of humanity. He has no qualms rattling questions off to you the second they run through his mind, which also means they completely bypass any filters. You don’t know if he’s too blunt to know better, or if he’s just genuinely that curious to know, but what you do know is that he catches all of your attempts to sidestep some of his questions, and will whine your ear off about them until you finally cave.

★It’s not for naught though, because Joseph’ll bring you things in return. This is typically reserved for close podmates only, but for you he’ll make an exception; he’s not much of a stickler for traditions, anyway.

★ He says it’s to pay you back - you make a good human teacher (said by a mer whose only frame of reference is you and that one fisher who was thankfully drunk enough to mistake your scaled friend as a skinny dipper with a skin condition the one time Joseph tried scouting another passing boat.) You learn quickly that it’s also because it gives him excuses to shower you in the ocean’s bounty.

★ If it looks shiny, or remotely pretty it’s going straight into your hands the next time that he sees you. There’s a real proud look in his eye seeing you appraise what he brings you - and if you tell him that you’re taking them home? You don’t hear the end of it for the entire day. His gifts? Going to your home on land? Where you can be reminded of him whenever you see them? You have 0 clue, being a human, but it makes him happy so what’s the harm? The prettier pieces you may even end up using to decorate your cabin window if you like them enough.

★ Joseph has posed the question on how other humans would react to him a few times. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it before meeting you, and sees this as a chance to get a definitive answer. Will get huffy if you burst his bubble with any kind of talk about probably being turned into a scientific discovery or sideshow; but you could probably win him back at the idea of ending up in the record books (he has 0 idea what those are, but they sound important enough to tide him over.)

★ Joseph’s bold, that’s a given. Bold enough that he starts daring getting closer and closer to shore the more time the pair of you spend together. You come to see him at sea all the time, so why doesn’t he return the favor?

★ Other people are the reason, you have to remind him. Dozens of people, especially in the middle of the day when everyone and their cat could potentially see the very obvious merman circling around your boat because he got impatient waiting for you to show up. That stunt had almost gotten you both caught, if people passing by had been just a little more observant. Thankfully you were spared that particular tragedy, though Joseph definitely didn’t appreciate the earful he got over it later. Next time he tried it was far later in the night, and on a less commercial part of the shoreline, much to your relief.

★At first Joseph keeps this newfound bond to himself - it’s mostly so he doesn’t get chewed out about it, but there’s no fooling anybody that he wants to selfishly keep this time with you to himself. Who else can say that they have a human friend? Someone who knows him and despite his abrasiveness still looks out for him? He wants to chase this feeling for as long as he’s able, consequences be damned.

★ This doesn’t last forever, because of course it can’t. Caesar catches him halfway to your boat one time and the jig is up the second he sees Joseph circling your ship. The blonde merman had just about tore him a new one upon catching up with the Joestar, even more so when your head had appeared from over the railing to query Joseph on the hold up only to freeze at the sight of one more mer than you were used to.

★ For a moment it was so worth it seeing Caesar pale just a bit at the sight of you, feeling awfully smug as he made a show of throwing an arm over your shoulder and introducing you as his human (and almost pulling you overboard in the process). Oh he was definitely going to hear about this later, but whether it’s his pod that gets to him first or you for keeping you a secret was another story.

#ghost's post #jjba x reader #jjba #jjba imagines #jjba joseph joestar #jjba joseph #joseph x reader #part 2 #battle tendency #jjba mer au

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thejojosanctuary · 29 days ago

Note

Since it's mermay, what about a short fic where Y/N fishes up merman Joseph who then tries his infamous "Secret Joestar Technique" to get away but since he's on land he's just flopping around 😂

-The way this idea had me cackling imagining the scenario it's perfect!

This man's built like a brick house so I had to get creative with figuring out how he'd get reeled up without snapping that line like floss - I do hope I did a good job with your idea.

Thank you so much for the request!- 🧡

You’re cursed.

You have to be - how else could you explain how you got into this damned mess?

You were relatively new to the whole boating thing, nowhere near committed to calling it a stable trade and more so using it as an excuse to get away from land. Inherited from a relative, the boat wasn’t commercial but it certainly wasn’t big enough for more than a couple of people. It was enough for you, though, while you were still trying to figure things out.

When the weather was decent enough you’d take to the sea. Just you, your ship, and the open ocean for a couple hours until the haul was enough to justify the trip back or the weather got too extreme. You mostly went out for the space though - if you happened to catch a couple of fish to sell in the process, who were you to complain?

Besides, the local stores always appreciated the fresh produce you brought back. The extra chore to your time off was a small price to pay for the discount you got at the stalls that used your fish.

So when you’d woken up that morning, greeted by the first sunny sky you’d seen in the last couple of weeks, blinding you through the crack in your curtains, you were out the door and on the sea without a second thought. It’s not like you’d be gone for long - what was the worst that could happen?

Famous last words - ones that were coming to bite you in the ass now.

Usually you’d just let the ship’s trawler do its work, dragging along the imperceivable depths below while you whiled away the time with other stuff. It was almost entirely automated at this point, so the most you had to do was wait for the thing to catch a handful of fish, flip the controls to reel it back, and check to make sure it hadn’t gotten snagged on debris or sediment.

You’d been in the middle of flipping through a comic a friend had lent you, tucked away in one of the many cozy nooks you’d made for yourself in the cabin. Humming, you thumb through the pages, working your way up to the big cliffhanger that you just know is coming up when an almighty screech rips you away from your reading. It’s a scratchy, grating noise that has you cringing, face scrunching up from the sheer volume thoroughly pissed at the interruption right as you’d been getting invested.

That is until you realize exactly where the sound is coming from.

“Shit, shit, shit-!”

The rickety cabin door ricochets off of the wall with a solid crack as you boot it open, entire frame shuddering from the force. However it’s the least of your concerns as you scramble towards the back of the little boat, muttering obscenities under your breath with increasing desperation.

The trawler groans beneath the weight of its haul, the line whizzing rapidly in a bid to pull itself free from the ocean’s depths on behest of the automated timer. Another sharp hiss of mechanics, this one more strained than the last, and for a moment you fear that the whole system is going to go up in smoke. The noises rend from the machine’s inner workings is concerning, enough that you have no idea whether to get closer or keep a wide berth in case it snaps - the old thing isn’t worth losing a chunk of your fingers over. But you can’t make out what the problem is if you don’t get any closer, so slowly, cautiously, you begin circling around to the far side of the machine.

“Please, please, please, please don’t be broken.” The repeated pleas are whispered to yourself like a matra, as if silently hoping that if you say it enough then it will magically revert whatever is messing with the hunk of junk back to a functional state. No such luck.

Is the pulley on the fritz? You hadn’t bothered to change it when you’d inherited it, though you’d at least maintained the upkeep as you’d been told. The old fishers at the shore who had taught you how to use the ol’ gal had explained to you that whilst it was an older make, it wouldn’t need refurbishing or upgrading for a good couple months at least..

“Gahh, I really don’t wanna fork out on replacing this thing before payday.” you give a defeated groan, giving the hunk of junk a cautionary nudge with the heel of your boot. Maybe a good whack’ll kick it back into gear? Not the first time you’ve done it, and it's never strayed you wrong before, right?

But then the netting veers right, dragged by an unseen force as it careens into the side of the ship and you stumble backwards, recoiling at the deafening screech it rends from the pulley mechanism. For a moment you can only watch the line jerk around, as though fighting against the pulley trying to yank it back up; that it is not the machine messing up. Your stomach drops as realization dawns that the problem isn’t with the net or the pulley.

It’s reeling something in.

You’re not even far enough out to sea to have caught anything substantial - a few minutes from shore at most, just barely enough to not risk marooning the vessel. And yet as you watch the machinery struggling to pull something up the tension builds. The corded netting pulls tighter and tighter and tighter-

Then, with a final heave the netting breaks through the water’s surface.

The resounding wet thud rocks the entirety of the boat, forming puddles of water on the wooden surface as the writhing mass is deposited in front of you. As you feared, upon completing its final job the pulley gives up the ghost. With a hoarse sputter, puffing out a few wisps of smoke for good measure the death rattle of metals gradually fades to a chilling silence, the noise still ringing in your ears as you take in the metallic husk with a withering sigh.

You’d bemoan the loss later, however the wriggling, lively contents of its last haul currently demand your attention.

A huge mass squirms and thrashes about within the confines of the fishing net, though at first you can’t quite make out what it is. Amongst the large shape are a handful of fish - or more accurately what’s left of them as they’ve obviously been half eaten, reduced to chunks somewhere between the ocean and your boat. For fucks sake; something’s been at your line again - probably those damned sea lions you’ve heard are making a home further up coast. But the offending culprit that’s trapped is far from a sea lion; though when you finally make out what exactly you’re looking at, maybe a sea lion would have been better.

There’s an honest to god man tangled up in your net, hulking bare chested frame struggling fiercley against the network of woven rope clinging to his form with little success. Any fear that you’ve hauled up a corpse flies out the window along with the barrage of curses the man spews out the second he hits solid land, words barely legible but shouted with enough vigor that you get the crystal clear picture that he’s pissed.

You’re beginning to think that you’ve accidentally scooped up a diver, but it’s while you’re in the middle of mentally debating the legalities of getting sued for picking a person up in your net (because seriously, how are you going to explain your way out of this one???) that the big mound of green he’s curled up with shifts. You swear to god, if that’s another goddamn person-!

Oh.

That’s not a diver.

Iridescent scales glint in the sunlight like emeralds, catching in the sun as a green tail unfurling within the ratty old net. Those pretty glistening scales form intricate patterns all the way up the stranger's body, becoming sparser up along the hips until they meet skin and taper off to the very human torso of a decidedly not human man.

A merfolk. There’s a merfolk in your trawler. Despite knowing what you’re looking at, your brain just can’t quite process what your eyes are seeing. It’s like something right out of a fairytale, coming across a mer out on the ocean. Except that mer is now swearing like a sailor and getting himself more and more wound up in what remains of your trawling net. He’s done a number on it, sure, but the ratty thing is clinging to the merman like it’s trying to get revenge for the pulley.

The hell are the chances that you’d yank up a mer of all things?! Godammit, you just wanted some fish, not this!

Someone up there must be getting a real kick out of your suffering right now, because as if finally sensing your presence the mer goes rigid, tensing up with fingers still wound tight mid-yank into the criss-cross of ropes that won’t budge. His head snaps up, and you’re momentarily struck by the startling blue of the eyes that meet yours, pupils blown wide as they dart across your features.

Oh, damn. He’s actually kind of handsome - the defined cut of his jaw framed by a mop of dark hair, clinging to saltwater slick skin as droplets of water cling to his lashes.

Silence; for a moment not even the gulls overhead make a peep.

“OH NO!!”

Okay he is WAY too loud. The merman spins away from you (as well as he can while actively trapped), hunching over with a groan. With his back to you, you catch a flash of an odd star-shaped mark on his shoulder - a birthmark? - before he buries a hand in his hair, tail thrashing.

“Granny warned me about getting too close to the human ships. But how was I supposed to know they’d pull it up!? Aaaaah, she’s gonna kill me when she finds out!”

Aaand he’s speaking to himself. Great, just what you need; a mythical creature monologuing to himself like it’s normal. At least you can understand him, you guess. He mutters something under his breath and suddenly jolts up, immediately hissing when his back catches on the coarse entanglements.

“There’s no other option.” he declares with grave conviction. “It’s time for my secret technique.”

Instinctively, you take a cautionary step backwards apprehensive on what this ‘secret technique’ is. He looks so sure about it that you’re beginning to dread what he’s got up his non-existant sleeves. Are mers dangerous on land? Of course there’s old wives tales of them drowning sailors, as there are across any corner of the world that touches the ocean, but surely you’re safe on your ship...you hope. And yet the foreboding ‘what-if’ is enough to warrant another step away for good measure.

The mer’s hands slap onto the deck, raising himself to as full a height as his predicament will allow. A deep breath - which only cements the lingering fear now that you know he seems just fine out of the sea- as his mouth opens with a bellow of-

“Run away!”

…You’re kidding.

If he was in the water, maybe this amazing technique would’ve worked wonders. As it stands though you can merely watch, utterly baffled, as the mer makes a poor attempt to flee back to the ocean he’d emerged from. Dropped smack-dab in the middle of your boat by the trawler however, there really wasn’t anywhere for him to go, He’s got plenty of muscle (which isn’t discerned bc you were staring at them too hard, definitely not) but progress is as slow going as you imagine it would be for a several foot tall sea creature weighed down by both a tail and a couple pounds of rope.

As this strange man continues to flop about on your deck, the fear and panic which had once taken hold now dissolves into confusion. Your hands, initially braced to protect yourself drop to your sides and there’s no hiding the pinch in your brow as you tilt your head with silent judgment.

Wow, talk about anticlimactic.

Clearly, at some point this guy must realize that thrashing around on dry land isn’t getting him anywhere, because after what feels like far too long (but is likely just a minute or two) the merman abruptly stills, makes a drawn out, pained noise, and promptly drops down in a tangled, outstretched mess of limbs and tail to the deck.

Is he…dead? What if you were wrong, and merfolk could die if they’re pulled out of the water? This is getting weirder and weirder; however as the seconds pass and you find yourself straining more and more to gauge if he’s still breathing, you’re growing increasingly concerned with the notion that it’s not just another gimmick.

Well you aren’t going to be responsible for this guy dying on your watch - the universe would probably curse you twice over for letting some mythical half-naked fish man croak on your ship. Spurred on by that thought you spin around, leaving the too still figure in your peripherals and you stride over to your trunk. It’s haphazard, and as you wrench it open it’s still full of junk you’ve been putting off sorting, making your job even harder as you root through it.

“Come on, come on. Don’t tell me I left the goddamn thing back home again- AHA!”

A triumphant shout, followed by the hefty slam of your toolbox. It’s an amalgamation of tools and tiny knicknacks stuffed away and half-remembered, and you shove your hand into the uncoordinated mess in a bid to feel around for the tool you know you have in there somewhere.

Immersed in fishing through your kit, you’re only half paying attention when a low, drawn out squeak makes you freeze mid-pillage. Whipping your head round, your gaze falls back to the ‘dead’ merman splayed on on your deck - he’s in the exact same position, but there’s a drag in the drying splotches of water on deck, and you could almost swear that he’s a little further away from you than he was before.

You hesitate before turning your back again, slower this time as you return to searching. This time, you’re actively listening out for any further movement; so when it happens again you’re quicker on the uptake. Still not fast enough to catch him in the act, but the marks are longer and he’s definitely further from where he had been.

Suspicions confirmed; he’s playing dead. And getting impatient too, as this time it’s barely a second after you’ve turned away that you hear that same squeaky noise. A deep exhale, calmness only betrayed by the slam of your hands rattling the toolbox as you spin back to face the mer.

“Listen, I know you’re moving!”

Silence. He’s really trying to milk the whole playing dead thing.

“I can SEE the drag marks on the deck you know!”

The ruse is up - and seems to ‘miraculously’ spring the guy back to life. With an indignant huff, the mer rolls onto his back and pushes himself up onto his shoulders to glare at you as though you’re the problem. A glare that’s looking mighty pathetic from behind the cross-knitted ropes he’s still covered in.

“You could have at least pretended to be fooled!” his expression’s wound in a scowl, one that you mirror as you throw your hands up in the air.

“Pretended?!You fu-I thought you were dead!”

“You were supposed to! Aren’t you humans dense or what?”

“Of all of the-ugh! That’s it!” You paw at the toolkit behind you, blindly grabbing till you feel a familiar weight in your hand and take long strides towards the mer.

Immediately he bristles, that cocksure attitude replaced by a reflection of the panic that you’d no doubt expressed just minutes before. He looks ready to bolt, if that was even an option, eyes flickering between your approaching form and the small safety cutter now brandished in your hand.

“O-Oi, hang on, don’t do anything stupid-”

“Oh hush.” you snort, amused by the notion that for a second he actually thought you posed any danger. “Relax; I’m going to cut away the net, and all that thrashing is a good way to lose a fin.”

The mer startles as you drop to your knees before him. His tail still thrashes, but it’s significantly slower than it once was - either he’s getting tired or you’re beginning to get through to him, but you don’t want to risk getting closer in case that tail hits you. Still, he makes his protest known, and this close it’s enough to make your ears ring.

“How about letting me go! Throw me overboard and we’ll pretend this never happened!” it’s more of a demand than a request, and a stupid one at that considering his current predicament.

“And what are you gonna do about the rope? Wait for it to just miraculously disappear; or let it drag you down to the bottom?”

That shuts him up. Smug satisfaction wells in your chest watching the mers mouth fly open with another witty remark, only to snap shut because you both know that you’re right. It takes effort to hide the grin tugging at the corner of your mouth as you shuffle closer, reaching out for

“Exactly. Now can it and hold still.”

His body’s wound up, visibly tense as your hand slips through the gaps in the net to pull a portion of it away from his skin. The rope itches in your grasp, coarse and soggy from its stint underwater much like present fishy company. No wonder he was trying so hard to get out - this thing is uncomfortable so torn and tattered.

Once it becomes apparent that you aren’t actively causing him harm, you watch the mer’s form slowly ease, the twisting of his tail settling enough that it’s finally safe to dare getting closer for a better look. Surveying the state of it, you click your tongue at the state of your fishing net. He’s done enough damage tangling himself up that the netting has folded over itself in places and knotted at awkward angles. Perhaps you could have tried to save it, but it doesn’t take a genius to piece together that it’s clearly a lost cause.

You work in silence, for the most part. For how much of a chatterbox he was before he’s eerily silent now, attentively watching over you as you work at the netting around his tail. It’s tedious, long winded and your fingers are already feeling sore by the time you’re even halfway up the bright green appendage with so much more to go, and yet you don’t stop for a second.

A section pulls too sharp when you tug, and the mer hisses at the unpleasant friction when the rope catches. It’s the only thing to break the silence and you immediately still, a quick ‘sorry’ murmured as you ease up, taking more care not to be too rough.

A mutter catches your attention. For a second you fool yourself into thinking he’s talking to himself again when you catch him blatantly staring at your face. You glance up, pausing momentarily in your cutting.

“Huh?”

“What’s your name?” a blunt question posed by the mer you’re working to free. “You’re a human; you have one of those too, right?”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not about the name thing. But with no better way to make time go faster, you decide to indulge him.

He repeats your name under his breath a few times, as though practicing how it sounds. Apparently he must like it, as you hear him do it twice more in the few seconds it takes for you to finally cave and chime in.

“I’m guessing you have a name too.”

“Of course! It’s Joseph.”

“Joseph, huh?” That’s…not the name you were expecting from a mythical sea beast, honestly. But then again, what did you expect? Your expression must paint a picture though, as Joseph’s expression sours in the wake of your response.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just-” you choose your next words very carefully, pausing for a second too long before settling on, “It suits you.”

Joseph halts mid rebuttal, for a moment looking truly stunned till what you say sinks in. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone preen before, but the brunet mer looks positively chuffed, grinning like a fool at the compliment. He puffs up his chest, making a move to straighten up as if getting ready to boast about it. That idea is nipped in the bud with a firm reminder to stop squirming before he loses scales as you keep cutting away at his bindings.

Your warnings don’t seem to curb his restlessness however, a slow, overly dramatic sigh making you regret saying anything in the first place as he huffs.

“Are you done yet?”

“Not yet. Getting there though.”

A pause.

“...How about now?”

“Still no, Joseph.”

“...Now?”

“No”

“...Now?”

“Yes.”

“Really?!”

“No.”

“Aaaah! This is taking forever!”

You can’t help it - Joseph falls for it hook, line and sinker, oblivious to your snickering in favor of flopping back onto the deck to complain more about his fate. While messing with him a little bit longer is a tempting idea, you decide for your own wellbeing to go easy on him.

“I’m kidding. Look-” A few more slices at the remains of the netting fall away between your fingers, joining the scattered pieces that once made up the merman’s confines. “Tada; you’re a free man.”

Without thinking you brush some stragglers off of his tail, the bits falling off with ease in the wake of your hand. Up close the green of his scales is somehow more stark, and though you expected them to be rough to the touch they’re instead pleasantly smooth against your open palm. Streaks of sunlight still catch on the iridescent tail, revealing faint yellow tones that pattern along the underside exposed to the sun. There’s no denying that they’re beautiful, if not unfortunately attached to such a cocky mer.

“Kinda pretty.” you muse aloud, quiet but not quiet enough.

Joseph makes a curious noise - somewhere between a whistle and a click. You’ve got no idea what it means but his smile spells bad news. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” is shot back too quickly. “I didn’t say anything.”

“No, no you definitely said something.” He’s leaning closer, any hint of the fear or distrust a far cry from the smug grin he’s sporting. “What’s pretty-?”

You reel back in response, making a grab for the tattered net at your feet. “I’ll throw this back on you-”

Joseph makes distance between you two immediately, hands thrown up in defense. “Okay, okay! Yeesh, are all humans this testy?”

“That’s a funny way to say thanks for cutting me free, but you’re welcome.”

Satisfied that he’s not going to make another move, you push yourself upright. Your knees groan in protest, stiff from how long they’ve spent shoved against the deck for far too long. Joseph looks himself over, patting himself down as if to ensure that he’s not short of any of his extremities and letting out a sigh of relief to find out that, true to your word, you’ve left him in one piece.

Right on time too, it seems. He’s beginning to dry out in the sun now, no longer the wet mop of a mer you’d initially dragged up. Joseph’s hair is starting to curl a little at the ends, and the sheen on his skin has dried in favor of a pinkish hue in light of the sun.

“Probably a good idea to get you back in the water.” you suggest, taking a step back and nodding your head towards the stern of the ship behind him. “You’re free to go; I gotta head back. Need to let the stalls know I’m empty handed this time.”

Joseph looks genuinely confused at that last remark, cocking his head. “Why’d you need to do that?”

“Well taking into consideration that my net is a loss, and the fish I did catch have been eaten.” The pointed glare in his direction is met with a sheepish hunch and glance away (because, honestly, how was he doing to explain the fish bits you’d hauled him up with?). Sighing, you shake your head, turning your gaze back out to sea in the direction of shore.

“I’m out of options. They won’t be mad, but I hate letting ‘em down when they’re expecting-”

“I can help.”

That…wasn’t what you expected. In fact, the offer genuinely takes you off guard.

“Joseph, I can’t take back the half-eaten ones.”

Joseph looks genuinely offended that you think that’s what he’s propositioning. “Not those, duh.” he snaps, broad hands gesturing to himself as though the answer is staring you in the face. “Merman, remember?”

In response you arch a brow, hands falling to your hips as you stare back at him. “You? Really? You’re going to catch me fish?”

“What do you mean, fish love me!” somehow you don’t entirely believe that, but Joseph isn’t deterred in the slightest.

“Give me some time - I’ll get you enough fish it’ll knock you off of those weird legs of yours!”

For the first time you look at him, really look at him. At that haughty overconfident smile and those bright blue eyes glinting as though he knows something you don’t. And you’re sure he does - you’ve just met the mer, afterall. But something pulls at you, a feeling that whispers that he means it - that you can trust him.

“Okay, fine.”

That smile breaks into a full on grin, the light in his eyes crinkling at the corners when you squat back down and offer a hand. “I can stay a couple more hours, but you’ve got yourself a deal, Joseph.”

“Great!” His hand clamps around yours, careful not to catch you on the sharp cut of his nails as he uses the momentum to prop himself up.

“Now help me get off of this thing. I don’t have all day!.”

“...I’m throwing you in.”

#ghost's post #jjba x reader #jjba #jjba imagines #jjba joseph joestar #jjba joseph #joseph joestar x reader #joseph x reader #part 2 #battle tendency #mermay #jjba mer au #i spent way too long laughing about the RUN AWAY #request #anon

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thejojosanctuary · 1 month ago

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Rewatching Jojo with some friends and when I tell you I am so excited for them to get to part 2!!!

So have some Kars doodles while I try not to blab about everything coming next lmao. Honestly obsessed with drawing his pretty as hell hair I wanna make more.

#ghost's post #my art stuff #jjba kars #kars #jjba art #battle tendency #pillarmen #Gradually convincing all of my non jojo mates to give the show a try #i wanna draw speedwagon next bc he deserves it and then maybe some more pillarmen

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thejojosanctuary · 1 month ago

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𓆝 ⋆.Sea on your side.⋆𓆝

Mer!AU Formaggio X Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4357

-Really wanted to get at least one thing posted in time for mermay - I'm a sucker for a good ol mer AU so I made this! I might do some more for other chracters if anyone's interested.-

The sun hangs high overhead as you make your way down to the docks, humming along to a nonexistent tune as you swing the loop of your keys around a finger. The warmth beats at the back of your neck, the heat offset only by the pleasant breeze that’s becoming more prevalent the closer you get to your destination.

It’s the same day every week, a practiced routine that you fall into easily. Your pack hangs heavy with the spoils of the day, picked up from home and the many storefronts that line your commute. It bounces at your hip in the wake of your brisk pace as the waters edge comes into view, and you bring your hand to brace beneath it as your steps break into a jog to close the remaining distance.

The sweet nonna’s who take their lunch at the waterfront cafe catch you as you go, giving their usual fearful warnings between bites of tramezzini and washed down with sips of coffee. They’re fretting over your safety with such fond concern that of course you have to stop by to assuage their fears.

“Be careful piccola,” they fret in unison, voices dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as if afraid of being heard over the lapping tide. “You know the Scolio’s boat capsized just last week! Who knows what could be in those waters.”

And just like always you’d flashed that same placating smile, patting away sweet Ms. Abbatini’s hand who, despite all delicate appearances, has your arm in a vice that takes genuine effort to slip free of. “I’ll be fine nonnina;I always am.” you assure them with a confident chuckle as you disappeared down the walkway, waving and calling back, “The sea is on my side today!”

Their doubtful expressions are understandable. After all, tourists and locals alike knew better than to brave the deep waters alone. And yet you stride down to the ramp to where your beloved boat stagnates with all the confidence of one who knows better than both, allowing your pack to flop onto the deck with a hefty thud as you start up the engine and direct it seaward.

The ocean air whips at your face; the scent of saltwater straight from the open sea forms a pungent tang that welcomes you like an old friend. It perks up your senses, nipping away at whatever tiredness still clings to your bones, and you already feel lighter than you did back on land.

It isn’t until the shoreline is an amalgamation of rooftops and silhouettes that you cut the motor and drop the anchor, taking a moment to survey the land you’d come from.

The ocean stretches wide and vast as far as the eye can see, the light catching shades of teal and marine in a kaleidoscope of blues and greens that almost glow beneath the reflection of the sun overhead.

Nothing disturbs its surface, and gives no indication of what could hide underneath but that’s fine; that only means that you still have some time to kill. Hoisting the rucksack into your arms you amble towards the stern of your ship. There’s a small setup - a pop up tray table and a single lounge chair facing out to the ocean which you’re quick to make use of. Sliding the bag onto the table, you’re careful to ensure that it doesn’t sag off of the edge with its weight. If it was any cooler you’d take the time to spread out the contents, but reason that it’s probably better to keep them out of the sun; instead you opt to drop down into the chair, stretching out until you’re a content gangle of limbs, soaking up the warmth of the sun as you wait.

And wait.

…And wait.

……And still wait.

…Huh.

Time drags by; the warmth upon your skin is beginning to morph into an uncomfortable tingle. You squint up at the sun through your fingers, wiping the sweat from your brow with a sigh. With any luck, you’ve got two, three hours before the heat grows too much to stay out on the open water, and there’s still no sign of him.

You regret not bringing a parasol, and though the thought or turning back to go grab it is tempting you think better of it. Chances are you’ll get an earful from the marina guards for the repeated trips - you’re already on their shitlist for making these rides out to sea unattended, like you haven’t defied their warnings since the moment you first inherited your precious ship.

Rumors run rampant through the town, and have for the better part of a couple of decades at least. From tales of poachers to sea monsters, there’s been enough speculation as to what lurks beyond the shore to generate superstition and caution. There’s designated spots that the local fishermen avoid like the plague, no matter how good the pickings are; places on the water that not even the most daring tour guide could be paid to risk.

While there aren’t any signs or official laws, the word of mouth is enough to spread the unspoken rule that permeates your beloved home. Respect the ocean’s rules if you value your vessel.

Not that you need to worry about that. At least, not anymore.

As if on cue the sound of dull scraping comes from underfoot, snapping your attention downwards. You can’t see a thing, but your ears prick up as your eyes tail its imagined path below deck. Wait, no, it’s not just scraping - knocking. Three quick raps against the vessel, followed by the drag of a fine sharp edge catching along the underside from bow to stern.

You know that sound.

Springing from your seat, you make a dash to the portside but you’re not fast enough. You barely catch a flash orange in the water before it vanishes below the underside of the boat so fast you could almost believe you imagined it, if you didn’t already know better.

You shoot across to the other side, grappling for the railing to keep yourself from going overboard in your haste. What greets you this time is more than a splash of color. A pair of deep green eyes stare back from the depths, slitted pupils trained on your face as though they’d been expecting you. There’s an intelligence behind them that makes you bristle, for a moment stunned silent as your gaze pieces together what few features you can make out distorted by the ripples in the water.

Then the tension drops from your shoulders. You huff, “About time. I was thinking you weren’t going to show, Formaggio.”

A face breaches the surface tension, flashing you a smile that’s biting sharp with too many teeth.

“Aw come on, you’re missing me already, amica? Sounds like you need new hobbies.”

You don’t take the bait, moving away from the edge and giving him a wide berth of space. “Get up here - the food’ll spoil in the heat if you don’t.”

“Hello to you too.” Formaggio scoffs, rolling his eyes. Still he follows your lead, muscled arms speckled with bronze and silver slinking out of the sea to grapple for the railing, pulling himself up.

The boat lurches, dipping under his weight as Formaggio hoists his bulky frame on board. He brings half of the sea with him too as saltwater rushes in alongside him, sloshing around up to your ankles as his torso crosses the threshold of the vessel.

His tail kicks up a spray of seawater to propel him over, the appendage brightening from a muted ash to a vibrant orange the further down you look, all blotted with the same dark spots splattered on his back. The caudal fin still hangs over the edge, because of course he can’t be bothered to set himself upright when lounging across the entire width of your deck and getting under your feet is an option.

Still you maneuver deftly over the bulk of his tail back to your lounge chair, slumping into the worn wood waiting for Formaggio to finally settle enough that you don’t risk stepping on his fins. Only once the shifting stops and those eyes are back on you, expecting again, do you play your next hand, gesturing over to the tray table that’s miraculously stayed upright during all of his squirming.

“Picked up some more of those sandwiches from Camberts’,” you note, tone light. “I figured you like them, since you ate yours and mine last time. So have at it.”

The jab is met merely with a shrug, waved off with a hand as Formaggio’s attention strays away from you and over to the rickety little table. “Not my fault you were too slow. You’ve got to be faster than that to catch anything good.”

Sea water runs in rivulets down his face and shoulders, a steady stream of droplets soaking into your pack as he crowds around it that will no doubt take hours to dry later, even with the heat. You hadn’t bothered to bring an icebox for the cooler foods, not that you’d need it. Formaggio’s appetite’s voracious; whether that was just a mer thing or a Formaggio thing you had no clue.

He tears into the packed lunches with little regard for the integrity of your rucksack; good thing it was heavy duty, or you fear Formaggio’s clawed fingers would pull it to ribbons. Clearly conversation isn’t the highlight of today’s ‘visit’, so your gaze begins to drift, landing on the strip of his neck as he cranes his head this way and that.

His gills look as though they’ve been carved with a fine knife, blending so seamlessly into his tawny skin that you only catch them flutter as he breathes in the contents of his latest gift. A flash of white and your eyes dart up just in time to see the curl of his lips, revealing those rows of sharp teeth that you find yourself staring at longer than you should with the realization of exactly what you’re now sharing a boat with.

How did you even get into this? This entire arrangement was bizarre.

You’d mistaken him for some weird fish the first time you’d run afoul of the mer several months back - he sort of reminded you of the leopard sharks you’d seen in old science books, if it wasn’t for the odd coloration and imposing size.

Formaggio, apparently, had been planning to sink your ‘little toothpick of a boat’ when you’d first met (a title that had earned him a kick to the flank when he’d casually thrown it in mid-conversation the month after because goddammit that’s your toothpick). That was until his interest had been piqued by the charcuterie board left unattended when you’d moved over to the bow of the boat for a drink.

Of course you’d nearly had a heart attack when you’d turned back to find the monster of a mer picking at what was left of your lunch, but aside from the bottle dropped in your shock that had taken days to scrub fully from the deck, Formaggio had caused no further damage. In fact, he actually stuck around.

Lucky for you (or not), apparently he’s developed a taste for human food. God knows how you convinced him to take that over tanking your boat for the hell of it, but now you’re dragged into giving him impromptu ‘offerings’ roughly once a week.

He says it’s protection pay. You call it an unexpected jump in your grocery bill.

You wonder if Formaggio does the same to the rest of his pod to keep them off of your back. There’s at least several more of them that you know of from what he tells you, and how he convinced them to let you stay is anyone’s guess. You find yourself mulling it over, long enough that your mouth is moving before your brain’s caught up.

“Hey, ‘Maggio?” There’s a noise of acknowledgment heard vaguely around a mouthful of food - you take that as a sign to continue.

“How do you know one of your podmates isn't going to mistake me for some fishing boat and capsize this thing? You’re not here all the time, and I can’t always work around you, you know?” The thought crossed your mind before, despite assurances, and you really want to know for sure that the next time you take to the waters for non-mer related reasons that you won’t be reduced to splinters.

Formaggio shrugs, not bothering to look up from the basket. “Capo has a system. What ships can pass through, which ones that can’t, and tagging the ones worth hitting.” Somehow you suspect that there’s more to it than that, but if there is, Formaggio makes no effort to elaborate.

He pauses to pop a grape between sharp teeth, chewing thoughtfully before adding, as if as an afterthought, “Besides, they know which mark to look for.”

That gets your attention; you straighten up in your seat. “Mark? What mark?” you prod for more, and now it’s Formaggio’s turn to look confused, tilting his head.

“How else did you think you were staying protected without me?”

As if to set an example, Formaggio drags his knuckles against the railing, that same knock-scrape motion you’ve heard him make when he boards your ship. His nails catch on the surface, and even a light graze is enough to leave the beginnings of a faint gouge. The lightbulb goes off and your expression twists, mouth dropping agape as you scramble for portside.

He didn’t. He wouldn’t-

“That’s what you’ve been doing to my boat?!”

Of course you can’t make out anything below the waves no matter how far you stretch. Only the sloshing saltwater, lapping languidly at the sides and distorting the view of the boat, are all you can make out; but that doesn’t make you any less indignant about the fact that he marked up your beloved vessel.

Formaggio tuts as though the answer had been obvious, smacking a webbed hand to the deck. “Relax, amica; it’s not like it’ll sink your stuzzicadenti. Solid stuff, for a human ship.”

“I can’t believe you-!”

Running a hand down your face, it takes a deep breath and a whole lot of patience you don’t have to not cuss him out. Your groan through gritted teeth doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest; in fact, the lull in conversation means that he can focus on what he deems far more important.

Formaggio turns his attention back to what’s left in the basket, picking apart a cold cut with his claws and tilting his head back to drop the shreds into his open maw while you stifle the urge to toss him overboard.

Would it do anything but piss him off? No. Would it still make you feel better? Definitely.

Gradually, the panic along with the frustration subsides, and you return to sinking into your chair.

“I…guess I can live with that.” albeit reluctantly. “So long as they’re okay with that too.”

Silence, which around Formaggio typically doesn’t exist. “...They are still okay with that, right?”

Formaggio doesn't answer, too invested in picking some leftover bits from his teeth with one of his nails. Your frown deepens, and you hunch over in your seat, hands clasped.

“Mag-”

“Relax, relax!” your concern is waved off again, his response too quick. “I vouched for you, right? We’re good.”

Good god. Your blood pressure is going to get you before anything else if he keeps this up.

“I mean…” Formaggio trails off, choosing his next words carefully. “Ris has been getting tense recently. Something’s brewing south that he says is too close for comfort.”

That…doesn’t sound good. At all. What the hell is he talking about? The expression on your face must give away the apprehension stewing, as just like that he’s twisting to face you fully, tail slapping up another spritz of water across your legs that you don’t so much as flinch at. He’s grinning again, but it’s obvious from the twitching in his tail that he’s just trying to play off the serious territory your conversation had been about to stray into.

“Nothing for you to worry about, yeah? We’ll handle it!”

Aaaand just like that the stress is back again.

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

Your knowledge is limited, from bits and pieces that the mer has let slip around you. (you guess you’re a confidante now???) Apparently there was some sort of territory dispute going on between all of the pods that called this minute corner of the world their home. Formaggio’s group's last bid to expand had gotten two of their podmates gravely wounded - alive, but barely just - and the rest of the team had been forced to drop back to recuperate the loss.

Who or what could have done that? Formaggio’s nothing to scoff at, dwarfing even the tallest human you know. So the thought of something being able to leave two as big as him on death’s door sends a burning chill straight through you.

“Tch-”

You blink, centering your focus back to Formaggio who wags a finger at you with all the exasperation of chiding a child.

“There it is. I told you not to worry.”

Indignant, you glower at him, “I’m not worrying.”

“Tell that to your eyebrows.”

On instinct you clap a hand across your forehead, but you’ve already lost. Shit, you really don’t like admitting that he’s right - he’ll hold it over you for weeks.

Formaggio laughs at his own teasing, shaking his head with a fond exhale. “So easy to rile up. You know, you could give Ghia some stiff competition. Sure he’d freeze your ass off, but hey, you’d probably make the others’ day!”

The mention of his podmate provides a momentary reprieve from his poking fun; you’re quick to jump on it.

“Could I?” you cut in, voice firm. “Meet the others, I mean.”

The shift in conversation is abrupt - it’s the first time you’ve been bold enough to ask him outright. Formaggio hums, expression suddenly pensive. He folds his arms across his chest and leans back against the railing, eyes trained skyward eyeing what few clouds crawl across the vast expanse overhead. And for a time all you can hear is your own pulse, and the gurgling of the waves undulating softly; you can’t bring yourself to cut in - to take your request back, or crack a joke, or even breathe too loudly. You merely watch the shark mer with a dawning realization.

Holy shit, he’s actually considering it.

And giving it some serious thought, too, with the way his brows knit together as he strokes along the cut of his jaw.

When Formaggio finally, finally answers, you release a breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding.

“I suppose I could convince Illuso to come if he’s in a good mood. Stroke his ego, though. It’ll be better for you if you get on his good side; he’s not as good with people as yours truly.”

Yeesh, if he’s the social one what are your chances here? You don’t voice that aloud though, settling for just nodding along. He continues, “Play it like you mean it and you’ll be fine. Now, Melone…” Formaggio halts and makes a face, nose scrunching up in discomfort. “He’s got a…thing about humans.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah it’s a whole thing - merda, especially with the legs-”

“Don’t.” you stop him there, wishing that you could go back five seconds to save yourself from the mental image that conjures. “On second thought I don’t want to know.”

Formaggio nods sagely - understanding your pain all too well. “Smart choice.”

There’s another lull, and this time you’re the one to start pitching candidates - racking your brain for names.

“What about Ghiaccio? Or Prosciutto?”

Formaggio bellows a laugh at that, loud enough that you jump in your seat staring wide-eyed watching him throw his head back. Another blink and his face is deadpan, making a slicing gesture across his throat with the flat of his hand.

“Yeah, no chance. He’s foul enough with the heat, never mind throwing a human at him. I was serious about him freezing your ass off, and I’m guessing you can’t grow any of those back." He gives a vague motion towards your limbs and despite the scorching heat the mere mention of it makes you shudder.

Well, that’s a firm no if you’ve ever heard it. Safe to say meeting Ghiaccio just tanked on your list of priorities.

“Prosciutto? Maybe, but then you’d have to deal with Pesci too. That guy follows him around like a suckerfish, and he can be a real pain. You’d probably scare the shit out of him, honestly. Ris could probably-ah, no. On second thought he might scare you off - size and all.”

Alright, that’s it. “Size?!” you balk, “Jesus christ, ‘Maggio. Is there anyone you know who isn’t a behemoth?”

Or isn’t questionably freaky, for that matter. That question you keep to yourself.

He snorts, hands shooting up in mock surrender. “Hey, you asked. Consider it a friendly warning - in case you’re serious.”

If his goal was to thoroughly disabuse you of the idea of meeting any other mer for the sake of self preservation then he’s knocked it out of the park. You slump back with a long exhale, as though pushing every ounce of air from your lungs will somehow undo the mental anguish that Formaggio has an uncanny knack for inflicting on you. When it doesn’t, you settle for basking in the sunlight, limbs splayed out to take full advantage of the heat you’ll no doubt be regretting later.

Too bad you neglected to account for the present company.

“Well, since you brought it up, when are you going to introduce me to your pod?”

…Huh?

You crack an eye open to squint at him, head cocked, “I…don’t have one?”

Looks like that was the wrong answer, from the look the merman gives you. “Sure you do. There’s plenty of you humans down by the water every day; why not put in a good word for me?”

“That’s not the same, ‘Maggio, - they’re…” Damn, how do you go about explaining this in a way that isn’t going to end up confusing the both of you?

Formaggio takes that as his cue. The deck squeaks as he shifts around with a deceptive speed, using the guard rails to pull himself closer to you. He’s already taking up most of the stern’s space on your dinky little boat, but once you’re face to face your entire field of view is full of nothing but orange and silver and bronze and that lazy shit-eating grin.

“You wanted to see mine, and I want to see yours. A fair trade, right?”

Okay, now he’s back to just messing with you. He’s got no intentions of going shoreside, but pulling your leg about it to see you sweat? That’s got Formaggio all over it.

Well two can play at that game.

“You know what? You’re right - I think you’d be a real celebrity to people back on land.”

Formaggio looks pleasantly surprised, moreso that you agreed with him, and his expression blanks for a beat gauging if he heard you right. A hand braces against your knee to keep himself upright, making your chair groan under the added weight as he leans in. Though the sun has done plenty to soak up the excess moisture the webs between his fingers are still damp and tepid to the touch.

You try not to think too hard about how weird the membrane against the skin of your leg feels, and especially don’t think about how the cool scales in contrast to your own overheating flesh is actually kind of nice. You focus instead on meeting Formaggio’s eyes as he quirks an angled brow, his grin splitting at his cheeks.

“Oh yeah?”

You nod. “Mhm - got a couple of guards down by the docks who would just love an introduction.”

The excitement drops from his face as fast as the glee rises to yours, his smile flattening to a frown. Green eyes narrow into slits - clearly he didn’t find it as funny to have the tables turned back on him.

“You’re no fun.”

“What? I could put in a good word for you!” you cast your reach wide, arms outstretched with a mock gasp. “Oh, I get it - if the nonnas are more your taste I can always ask Ms. Abbatini what her thoughts are on fish-”

“You little shi-”

That does it. In a second you’ve got a sneering muscled mer tussling with you, clawed hands pinching your cheeks and rattling the arm rests. There’s no actual intent to harm you - you’d be dead three times over if you didn’t know for a fact that Formaggio got a kick out of the back and forth banter.

The extent of his malice is limited to swiping your chair in the hopes of knocking you flat on your ass. In retaliation you brace both feet against the nearest solid surface, refusing to budge and overconfident that your leg up on the shark is more than enough to keep steady.

That is until you feel a sharp tilt - and it’s not the chair. You hadn’t even noticed that Formaggio had shifted his weight to the one side of the deck in the midst of your play fighting. Surely that wasn’t on purpose-

But his broad grin says otherwise. Oh, you’re going to kill him-

“FORMAGGIO, THE BOAT-”

It’s too late. Formaggio’s triumphant cackles drown out your shrieks of “cheater!” as a torrent of sea water gushes on board, drowning every dry inch of flooring and dragging out everything not nailed down as its spoils, your poor chair and you included.

Just your luck. Is the ‘protection’ from this guy really worth all this trouble? You’re still debating it as a blur of orange and ash dives in after you, looking all too smug for a guy who’s using the ocean to win.

#ghost's post #jjba x reader #jjba #jjba imagines #formaggio x reader #jjba formaggio x reader #formaggio #jjba formaggio #jjba la squadra #la squadra #part 5 #vento aureo #golden wind #mermay #jjba mer au #what can i say other than aus are my weakness #gonna hop off now bc yeesh it's 3am now

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thejojosanctuary · 1 month ago

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Hey, I have a request that's both headcanons and a scenario. what about baron zeppeli with a fem S/o that's a pagan witch? And before his trip he can't find his bow tie and when he goes to her room to ask her if he saw it he sees her making a protection spell for him, how would he react? Thank you for answering <3

Hiyya hun thank you so much for requesting! All for spreading some love for the og Zeppeli the PB characters really do deserve some more love! Went for just a scenario for this one bc I got a little carried away with this one. Also my knowledge on pagan witches is very limited but I tried my best!

First fic in a while so bear with me while I get the hang of things I do hope that you enjoy 🧡(b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b

✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･･:*.ೃ࿔⋆✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･･:*.ೃ࿔⋆✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･･:*.ೃ࿔⋆✎⋆

The day of the trip approaches, and it’s become glaringly apparent that something important has disappeared from Zeppeli’s suitcase in the midst of preparing for the venture.

He’d realized somewhere between the third trip between his dresser and his travel bag that he was now short of a signature strip of green from his list of garments. Sure enough, a quick sift through the bag had revealed one of his favorite ties was no longer in the rolled up pocket of space it had been occupying before - taken too suddenly for it to have just been misplaced.

It isn’t the first time that an item of his has ‘mysteriously vanished’, all of them pilfered by only one devious culprit in a bid to fend off the inevitable. It was the same story whenever Zeppeli had to depart from the home for more than a few days; clothing, shoelaces - always something small, but enough to keep your darling hamon master at your side for a little longer. You’d even taken off with his top hat once, leading to a hot pursuit through the halls of your home. The echoes of your laughter of triumph had turned to a squeal only when the Baron had resorted to quite literally swooping you off of your feet before you could dart through another one of the winding corridors that made up your home.

It had become a staple in the routine by this point. Just one of the many facets of life that had come with the addition of you into the hamon master’s life.

As such, Will knew precisely where to find you.

Zeppeli’s footfalls are soft against the carpeted flooring underfoot as he makes his way down the corridor leading to your room. It’s more of a spare room these days - though you’ve still proudly staked your claim on every corner of the space, filling every wall and crevice with your beloved crafts and collections.

The door’s half ajar, allowing streaks of light to fill the hallway, and as Zeppeli nears, the scent that rushes to greet him is fresh and aromatic. Your room is a conglomerate of scents, thanks to the herbs and plants you keep bottled and stored for future use; this one in particular is familiar, though the name of it eludes him as his hand presses to the door and pushes it open.

Ah; there you are.

Legs tucked beneath you, you’re perched at your desk facing away from the door, safely squared away in your own little world to the far side of your room. Your shoulders are wound tight with concentration, the occasional hum or click of your tongue the only thing breaking the otherwise steadfast resolve in your focus as you lean further over your desk, the soft fwip of things being shuffled and sifted through the only indication that you’re hard at work..

Oh, how this sight will never tire him. To think this space served any purpose at all before you arrived to fill it with one. You’re so absorbed in your work that you don’t notice the additional company as the Baron sidles up beside you, hands coming to fold behind his back as he leans over to get a better look at you. From this angle he can make out the furrow in your brow, expression scrunched up in concentration as your hands alter and move what you’ve got before you with a practised ease.

Zeppeli does not claim to be wise in the ways of your craft, though you’ve done your best to share the knowledge openly, just as he’s done for you with hamon. It’s an amusing balance between your respective worlds, and he cannot help but want to observe for a while longer than to disturb your focus. You appear to be at the tail end of your task - the remnants of incense, candles and a myriad of containers ranging from small bottles to bulky jars filled with all manners of contents scattered across your work space as your attention flits between each.

By this point Zeppeli hovers close over your shoulder, watching for just a beat longer in a profound moment of shared silence.

And then-

“I see, so that was rosemary!”

“AH-!”

You jolt with a yelp, hands slamming down and taking your tools with it. The table rattles from the force; a few glass bottles topple to the side and begin to roll towards the edge of the table just barely missing the swipe of your hands trying to catch them. Thankfully Zeppeli is quick to save them from their shattered fate, scooping the tiny vials away from the edge and into a neat cluster at the centre of the table with a little flourish for good measure. Your hands shoot out to steady the furniture and yourself before anything else goes flying, letting out a small sigh of relief when it finally stills.

Now thoroughly shaken from your reverie you look over your shoulder at the offending party who had startled you so. The placating smile offered is belied by the little quirk of his moustache that gives away his amusement. The look you shoot Zeppeli in return is scathing at the interruption, but mellows into something far gentler as you pout.

“You know I hate when you do that.”

The man moves like a shadow when he wants to. Zeppeli says it’s a skill naturally picked up from his training, but you swear he just likes surprising you with how his eyes light up in mirth with every shock, squeak or jump. Just like now. The corners of his eyes crease with poorly veiled glee and damn it all if it isn’t a little bit contagious.

Your mouth opens with the beginnings of a question, no doubt to scold him for making you jump, but as you move to confront him a flash of stark green catches his attention amongst your workspace and Will’s attention snaps downwards. Both pairs of eyes turn to the tie on the table, still neatly folded as it had been in his bag just an hour before; then to each other; back to the tie.

A beat passes between you, and-

“I needed it,” Is the justification offered, leaning back in your chair and turning to look at the shelves lining the wall across from you with a sudden newfound interest. “For work.”

“Work?” echoing back your words, Zeppeli leans forward, tone playfully inquisitive as he tries to catch your eye again.

“Mhm.” You crane your head a little further left arms crossed in a play of nonchalance. “Very important. It simply couldn’t wait any longer.”

Your pointed attempt to avoid meeting his gaze is telling enough that it’s more than that, and for all of William’s jovial semantics you know that he can see it too. That doesn’t save you from the impending prodding you can feel coming. Somehow just looking at the man is enough to make your face warm and your mouth dry like some lovestruck youngster. From the corner of your eye you see Zeppeli’s smile widen knowing this too - for such a worldly man, the baron sure was smug about flustering you.

Instead of deigning him with a response you reach for the garment under scrutiny, taking the bright fabric between your fingers. It’s soft but well-worn - one of his favourites, and the same one he’d worn when you’d first met - which is precisely why you’d picked it out for your spell. Garments with strong attachments to the recipient worked best, and it was either that or trying to sneak away that bold top hat of his. You brush your thumb over it, fondly studying the slight crease at the mark where Will would always fold it before making a wistful noise.

“You know I considered cutting off a piece or two to make a spell bag, but I feared I wouldn’t have the time.” You’re only half joking as your gaze flickers back up to the gentleman. “You still have a few hours to spare though, right, dear?”

Got him. That smirk of his strains, Zeppeli none too subtly moving to the side where his tie rests in your hands and hovering close with a placating hand already reaching towards it.

“Now now, cara mia, let’s not be hasty-”

Your laughter rings loud with the kind of joy that strikes Will that he’s been had once again by your tricks. His tie dangles in front of him, your eyes alight with a devious glee even knowing that he could quite quickly snatch it back if he really wanted to. And yet Will only shakes his head, giving a few playful grabs if only to hear your laughter break into a cackle as you scramble to keep it out of his grasp.

Zeppeli relents once you’ve had your fun and your laughter fades into a breathless chuckle. You twirl his tie between two fingers, giving a dramatic huff and shrug, “I suppose a spell will just have to do then, if you still insist on leaving.”

The air stills and you pause the moment the words leave you, the smile falling briefly from your face. Your own casual mention of his inevitable departure suddenly strikes you just how soon it is. Even without a clock you know that your time is limited; half a day at best, and then your Will will once again vanish from your home as though never there at all, just as he’s done all those times before.

Your pause is brief, heavy enough for the hamon master to take notice. This time Zeppeli’s sigh is deep, carrying the weight of a contention held time and time again. “Amore, you know how important it is that I go-”

“I know you do. And you know that I wouldn’t stop you-”

Though how badly I wish I could.

Will is in your space within the blink of an eye, a talent he has yet to divulge just exactly how he accomplishes. His large hands, worn and calloused with life, come to clasp yours tightly, a comforting and reassuring warmth. The tie hangs between you, momentarily forgotten.

“Had I the power, I would spend every waking hour basking in your glorious presence, my dear.” His smile is anything but reassuring no matter how much Will tries; you can’t quite meet his eyes. “But the mask is a danger to the world as long as it exists. Knowing that it is wreaking havoc on the streets of London as we speak, and that its influence spreads, I cannot idle by and allow it to taint more of this world than it already has.”

Your brave, foolish man. Putting the safety of the world above his own life and taking on a burden he knew would bring his death; but you knew the truth to his words, as much as you wished to deny it.

Will Zeppeli had made no attempts to hide his fate, the inexorable road he’d have to travel and the end that awaited him there though he knew not the time. You’d made your peace with the knowledge, but it never made it any easier whenever he left on his travels to hunt down that infernal thing that had haunted his youth.

There's always the fear however - that every time Zeppeli goes to a place you cannot follow he’ll slip from your fingers for good; that the moments you see him crest over the hill of your shared home will be the last you ever see of him. It doesn’t help that the pit which fills your stomach sits heavier than before, suffocating rational thought. This time feels different, feels final in ways you cannot describe and the powerlessness gnaws at your soul.

And so you’d fallen to creature comforts, pilfering through your materials and knowledge collected over years for something to ease the burden. A protection spell was easy enough to cast, but it had to be perfect - needed it to be better if you wanted it to protect him from the horrors he was set to face.

You had to let him go. But not without arming him with some protection of your own.

The chair drags along the flooring underfoot as you stand abruptly, promptly nudging the offending furniture out of the way till you’re face to face once again with your lover. Will’s hands fall from yours and the puzzlement on his face is clear as this time you crowd into his space.

In one swift motion you drape the tie across his shoulders, deft fingers beginning to loop the fabric as you’ve seen him do every morning, ignoring Zeppeli’s noise of confusion. The angle is awkward, especially as Will makes no move to bend down unless you tug him into place with the tie; but you’ve had enough experience pulling the thing off to reverse the process and make a decent enough tie. You smooth out your handiwork beneath your fingertips once you’re finished, tucking it safely into his vest. Your touch lingers longer than it should, though your attempts to move back are thwarted as a hand comes to curl around your waist, firm and warm.

Will catches the smell that now clings to the newly settled tie; rosemary and sage linger in a heady combination. Their meaning isn’t lost on him as he breathes deep of the scent, and you seem thoroughly pleased with yourself as he puts the pieces together, brows raised in pleasant surprise.

“For good luck?”

“For protection.” You’re quick to clarify, jabbing a finger to his chest. You pause for a second, the hesitation to meet his gaze before now well and truly gone as you take a moment to admire your Will.

A stalwart determination mellowed by a contentment only found in your arms, and a softness in his eyes that speaks of all the fondness the man holds just for you. His lips part - no doubt to whittle off about the pedantics - but you beat him to it, tugging him down by the tie and meeting him halfway in a kiss.

It’s the briefest peck, and you wrestle back a smile as Zeppeli moves to chase the kiss as you pull away, thwarted by the finger you hold up between you as you flash a smile at the sight of his pout.

“That is for luck.”

The hand around your waist tightens, joined by his other as you’re bundled close against Zeppeli’s chest. Your hands drop once more and Zeppeli seizes the opportunity to diminish the space, smirking.

“Well I can never do without too much of your luck, amore.”

A sigh is lost in this kiss as Zeppeli ducks his head again to press his lips to yours, and for a moment your fears melt away. He smiles against you, feeling the tension seep from your shoulders, and makes a pleased hum as your hands slip over his shoulders to card through his thick brown hair. The sound sends a thrill through you and you press yourself eagerly into what little distance remains between you, seeking more.

One kiss becomes two, then three, each one more passionate than the last. At some point you lose count, not that you intend to keep it when there’s such a perfectly good man kissing your breath away to occupy your hands and mouth with. By the time you part it takes genuine effort to remember how to breathe - your face flushed red and lungs fighting to even your breath. Will’s on the other hand is steady, he hasn’t so much as stuttered, though his hair is now thoroughly unkempt, and gives you that stupidly fond smile you just want to kiss right off of his face all over again.

This time you almost beg him to stay, but the words catch in your throat and you just can’t do it. Instead you offer a steadfast smile, watching the creases in his brow soften as the hands pressed to his chest smooth over where his heart hides with a reverence that cannot mask your concerns.

A kiss to your forehead, before Zeppeli presses his face to the crown of your head, breathing deep of you. The words he mutters are lost to your ears, but the affection behind them is clear as one of his hands rubs small circles into your back.

“You’ll write to me?” your voice, notably softer, dares to cut into the moment.

Zeppeli hums against your hairline, “Of course. Only a fool would dare to keep you waiting.”

The answer satisfies you, for now. “Good, I’m holding you to it now. If you don’t I’ll come over there and steal that tie back myself.”

Another half-joke, though this one is more of promise than threat. One that Zeppeli knows all too well that you’d follow through with in a heartbeat despite the teasing lilt in your tone.

You bask in his presence a while longer, more than content to while away the hours away in the baron’s arms until all these talks of justice and duty and what’s right fade into the background of thought. But it doesn’t last; the world still has to turn, to carry on in your wake.

The sooner he leaves, the sooner he’ll complete his goal and return to you for good. That’s the only thought that gives you enough resolve to slip free of his embrace, throat still tight yet masked with a smile as you briskly swat the air.

“Now off with you, before I change my mind and take it back.” Your warning is half hearted. But it isn’t until the baron makes no move to budge and you make a playful grab for the accessory again that he finally begins backtracking, nimbly retreating to the threshold of your room.

Zeppeli’s out of the door before you can blink, some quickly uttered excuses about remembering to pack lost in the wake of your devious laughter as you scamper in pursuit, eager to follow behind.

#ghost's post #jjba x reader #jjba #jjba imagines #part 1 #phantom blood #will a zeppeli #will a zeppeli x reader #baron zeppeli x reader #baron zepelli #request #anon #fem reader

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thejojosanctuary · 2 months ago

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Been working on a some redraws of my old art since late last year so I thought I'd post a couple! Still messing around with styles and stuff but it's fun.

You'll probably find Mista and the first doodle's originals in the older parts of my art tag I think these guys turned out much better than the firsts! I'll probably post some more stuff soon when I dig em up.

Also unrelated but 7th Stand user my beloved I should really get back into playing it 🧡🧡

#ghost's post #my art stuff #jjba mista #guido mista #mista #rykiel #jjba rykiel #rubber soul #jjba rubber soul #7th stand user #7su #7th stand user mc #7th stand user miracles #bc miracles deserves it's own tag that mf got me through that game alive lmao #jjba art

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thejojosanctuary · 2 months ago

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Can I please get a matchup? My name is Kerosene. I'm a demigirl (she/they pronouns), 5’, petite, caramel blonde hair, dark blue eyes (and I wear glasses) bi with no real preference. I'm ADHD, autistic, and have chronic insomnia. And I'm goth/emo. I'm a bit of an introvert but I'm extroverted around people I know and like. I have a sharp tongue and a wide vocabulary of swear words and insults. I'm fiercely loyal to people who get on my good side and I try to make things as fun as possible when I'm hanging out with friends. Also I'm a giggly bitch, I laugh at pretty much anything. My favorite parts are Stardust Crusaders* and Golden Wind*. And if I had a Stand, its name would be Sharpest Life.

(**I ask that you don't pair me with Jotaro, Kakyoin, Bruno, or Abbacchio as I don't want to view them romantically.)

Of course hun! :D I always love hearing about everyone's stand names I think they're super neat! And with your preferences in mind I do believe I've found a good match for you,,,

I match you with Risotto!

I believe that you and Risotto would mesh together really well as a couple! It’s the kind of love that really takes it time to blossom however; but with a bit of patience on your end and some persistence to get into Ris’ good graces, your bond will be unshakable!

Risotto is not an easy man to get close to, not by a long shot. It’s not because of his nature or general disposition (though he comes off as intimidating at first meetings for good reason, and can play a part in him coming off as callous or uninterested), rather it’s because getting romantically involved with someone, especially outside of the gang, puts any potential partners at great risk.

Every member knows this well, and have had to come to terms with that as a fact of life in their own ways both effective and not. Not to mention Risotto has likely never cared for someone enough to want to risk a relationship in his current line of work, preferring to keep any potential romantic partners at a distance. If you were a part of the gang, he would have less reservations, though even then it will take time to get the head of La Squadra to begin opening his heart up to you.

But if you do get close, close enough to ease apart the carefully constructed wall he’s built between his ‘work life’ and ‘personal life’, you’ll find a place for yourself etched into his very soul. Being a Stand user helps to ease Risotto’s fears, if only somewhat. A stand offers an added layer of protection against the seedier, darker corners of the world you both live in - allows you insight into what most can’t see just enough to let you know what you’re getting yourself into.

You keep to yourself in the beginning, which suits him just fine - the brief greetings as you pass by one another on your daily commute and the small conversations stolen when you both happen to be lingering in the same place are more than enough. He isn’t sure when it happens, when he starts feeling this urge to want to know more about you, to know more of who you are; but once that desire is there it’s impossible to ignore. So he observes, and listens, and tucks every moment that you share into his mind without thinking twice about it. Doesn’t realize just how much you occupy his thoughts until he’s in the middle of briefing the rest of his team one day and the image of how you’d smiled at him that day is in the back of his mind the entire time. Congratulations; you’ve got this man’s heart hook, line, and sinker.

A sharp tongue also speaks of a sharp wit when used correctly; and boy does Risotto enjoy seeing you use it. You can go toe to toe with Ghiaccio’s attitude, have enough snark to stun even the likes of Melone and Formaggio into silence, and that sharp tongue of yours has even humbled Prosciutto and even Risotto himself for underestimating just how wide that vocabulary of yours is the two times they made the mistake of doing so. That being said, with how quick you are on the draw there’s a respect for your remarks, which may come off as harsh or biting but Risotto can easily brush off the tone and see your words at face value.

On another note, there’s definitely some goth couple goals going on here- I mean, have you looked at Risotto? The black with enough golden accents to draw the eye (which speaking of HIS EYES??? He was born to goth), combined with your own fashion sense will always draw eyes admiring how well you fit together wherever you go. A few people would assume that your similar styles are due to wanting to be a cute matching couple because of how well you fit together, which is sure to end up with some amusing anecdotes to tell later on in the relationship. But really it’s just how seamlessly you two manage to look so damn good rocking your respective styles.

Sleep hardly comes easy for troubled men. And pile that on with an overall reluctance to sleep in the face of more work, you’ll find that many of your nights awake are shared with the assassin far into the early hours. In the beginning of your relationship Risotto would leave your room to go elsewhere in the house to avoid the risk of keeping you awake with his own restlessness. He was concerned he’d done exactly that when you’d wandered into the kitchen not long after he’d settled in for a night spent awake with his thoughts. But when you nonchalantly dropped down into the seat across from him, asking if he wanted to share the leftovers in the fridge while the kettle boiled, that concern dissipated along with the realization that you were as used to sleepless nights as he was.

There’s a still calmness on these nights, of just existing in one another’s company doing your own thing, with less time spent watching the clock hands move and more time. You can tell that these evenings mean a lot to him. Your companionship, just being close enough that he can reach out and pull you close or seek your hand with an unspoken reverence - it’s the closest thing to a break Risotto will ever get, with the weight on his shoulders left at the door in this pocket of space you’ve made for just the two of you.

Loyalty is a prized trait, one that Risotto knows from experience has to be earned and maintained in earnest to keep. It’s loyalty which has kept La Squadra together and such a force to be reckoned with for as long as it has. More than once he’s been sure that your trust would falter and you would turn and disappear from his life the more you learned of his life (which may be why he insisted that your knowledge about the gang's doings remains as minimal as possible). He wouldn’t have blamed you for wanting to leave. And yet every time you prove him wrong; your unwavering loyalty making Risotto feel foolish for having ever doubted that faith you have in him. It’s a loyalty he’s intent on keeping with you, to show that he’s worthy of that level of trust, and it’s a facet of you that he loves.

What Risotto loves most, however? Your laugh. The first time he’d heard you giggle it was at the smallest thing; something so completely random that it actually catches Risotto off guard. It’s not the last time, but it isn’t long that he’s actively listening out for those sparks of joy that come bubbling from you at everything and anything. That schooled, stern exterior softens in the light of your laughter. All of his squad have noticed it, with some making goading jabs and others nudging the others to watch when they see it firsthand like they almost can’t believe it.

There must still be something good to this world, if it’s able to bring a smile to your face in spite of everything. Even those stifled giggles at something mundane, or a snort of amusement over something most wouldn’t even bat an eye serve as reminders to Risotto that there’s someone to come home to at the end of every mission - someone ready to greet him with that same smile and the beginnings of a giggle that he’s come to adore.

#jjba #jjba match up #jjba match ups #match ups #match up #habits-white-rabbit #jjba risotto #jjba risotto nero #risotto #risotto nero #la squadra #jjba la squadra #part 5 #golden wind #request #ghost's post #jjba x reader

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thejojosanctuary · 2 months ago

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Heyya everyone, I hope that you're having a great day~!

I'm hoping to start chipping away at the inbox the next couple of days to get some scenarios and requests posted - I'll be opening up the inbox so please send in some requests of what you'd like to see and I'll be happy to make them 💟💟

#ghost rambles #jjbs x reader

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thejojosanctuary · 2 months ago

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hello, I would like to request a matchup, if you are still doing those. I am something of an aspiring writer who really likes taking terrible ideas and seeing how far I can run with them. often I will hyperfixate on stupid things and think about them too much, but I try to be self aware about it and don’t mind a little ribbing. I also try to push my boundaries and try new things, though I can be a pushover and have trouble saying no. I love eating, terrible puns, and colorful things as well

Hiyya! Apologies for the wait hun but I think I've got your match up all done!...

I match you with Joseph!

Honestly, I can see no-one who matches you better than the loudmouth Joestar himself!

The relationship between the two of you is playful; full of joy and vibrancy and lighthearted feelings. It’s a whirlwind romance, as Joseph’s love is the kind that’s all encompassing - you don’t even know you’re fallen until one random day doing something menial; it just hits you how fast the Joestar’s love has wormed its way into your heart and soul, and that feeling punches the lights outta him just as hard. Though expect Joseph to be a hell of a lot more vocal about it.

Joseph is an enabler of terrible ideas through and through. You want to run with a horrendous idea to see how far you can take it before it derails? He will play every part of the devil on your shoulder, egging you on and wanting to know all the best details on how it’s going the entire process. More than once he’s thrown his own ideas into the pot to see if something he says will stick with you and give you more material to work with - though he does pout a bit when you add his ideas to the ‘terrible’ pile that you’re steadily amassing in your book/phone/ computer, playfully insisting you to add his name in the credits if one of his ‘suggestions’ inspires you to write the next big seller.

He isn’t always the best company when you have to focus on your writing however. If anything, he can be a massive distraction that ends up derailing either your train of focus or the writing part itself with his antics. You can see it coming from a mile away - at first, Joseph will try to be real sly about it, resting his head on your shoulder and loosely looping his arms around your waist while he’s watching you write, edit and rework your current draft; giving his input with hems and hms aplenty. But slowly that hold grows firmer, those hms turning into vague suggestions and whines to take a break and go do something else together. Thankfully, there’s a simple solution to this conundrum, as give him enough Kisses until his mind is a content mush of affection and he’ll be set to shut up for a half-hour or so till he starts up again.

The boundary of new things is a suggestion just waiting to be crossed for Joseph - the kind of guy who will see an impossible (and often ridiculous) feat and trick himself into thinking, fuck it, he can give it a go. This rarely goes to plan, but it’s the thought that counts! Having a partner on a similar wavelength who isn’t afraid to broaden their horizons and try something new once in a while is an ideal for him. Expect for these new experiences to come out of the blue however; he does plan ahead for these kind of things - sets time aside for the date and such - but he’s just so excited about doing it, especially with you, that he can’t always wait till the day of. Hope you like a little spontaneity in your life, as all it takes is a chunk of free time in your schedules and a little convincing on Joseph’s part before he’s whisking you away off on the next grand venture.

This goes for food especially. Sometimes you have to wonder if half of the dates he’s taking you aren’t just an excuse to stuff his face with great food with you. Not that you mind; Joseph’s got a bunch of local places at the top of his list for the best in town, having tried everything from the family run joints to the restaurants with big enough price tags the food would have to be plated in gold to justify it. So he knows what places serve the best grub that you may have never even heard before. If you’d prefer the option to eat in instead of going out he’ll be out the door and back with a bunch of food in to-go bags faster than you can blink.

Will ALWAYS play up when you crack out a terrible pun, but loves dishing them out himself. If you’re the one to throw out a terrible pun, Joseph will be so exaggerated groaning about how bad it is - dropping his head in his hands, bemoaning the corny punchline, only breaking the act when you threaten to shove him off of whatever piece of furniture he’s thrown himself against in his dramatics. Joseph’s a total hypocrite though with his own and will give you that cheeky grin, giving you a little nudge as he tries to get you to admit that you thought it was funny. “That was a good one, eh? Right, right?” It’s up to you whether you’re brave enough to admit they got a laugh out of you.

If you make a point to tell him just how much you love colorful things, a lot of the gifts he gets you. Very much the kind of guy who will see something in the shop window that’s eye catching and bright and not think twice about buying. He’ll harp on about how much it reminded him of you, so of course he had to get it for his cute partner - isn’t he the best boyfriend? He’d be an even better one if he’d help you start looking for places to keep all of said gifts, because at this rate you’re going to have to invest in more shelves and bigger space to find room for all of this stuff. That’s fine, though; you’re always encouraged to leave them at his place - it’s basically a second home at this point, and he’s always looking to spend more time with you, regardless of the time or place.

#jjba #jjba match ups #jjba match up #match ups #match up #anon #jjba joseph #joseph #joseph joestar #jjba joseph joestar #part 2 #battle tendency #request #ghost's post #jjba x reader

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thejojosanctuary · 2 months ago

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If your match ups are still open, may I take one for Jojo parts 1-5 please?

I’m a female demi, but prefers men. I’m an INTJ, chubby pair bodied, dyed red hair, green eyes, 5’2” gremlin goth mom friend. I’m blunt/have no filter, have a dark/sarcastic sense of humor, who isn’t afraid of confrontation.

I have a wall up for new people due to trauma, but my love languages are quality time and acts of service. I’m prone to anxiety and depression, but can usually get myself out of it in time. Towards people who get past my wall, I’m a playful and protective mama bear.

I’m an artist (which I’m super passionate about), I love animals (even the creepy crawlies), nature, reading, learning new things, collecting crystals (I just think they look pretty), and games (I can get competitive).

I don’t like people who are willfully ignorant instead of being open to new things (I like himbos though lol) and cold and extreme heat/sunlight (I get sick easily). Gore in movies/books, as well as most things don’t bother me.

Thank you so much! 💖

Thank you so much for the request!! I'm sorry that it took so long to answer but I'm here with hopefully a great match up for you...

I Match you with Kakyoin!

I know you said you like himbos but hear me out here! I really think that you and Kakyoin would make a great pair, with plenty to bond over.

Your relationship is one that builds up over time; the kind of bond that warms up slowly until it’s kindling into that little flame and Kakyoin realizes that what he’s feeling goes deeper than just friendship. The very first meeting is a brief encounter, but leaves the image of you in his mind for far longer than he expects.

Amusingly, it’s probably your hair color that catches his attention first. I can definitely see the likes of Polnareff or Joseph pointing you out to him, a flash of crimson among the other faces in the immediate vicinity, commenting that you share a similar shade with a snicker like it’s the funniest thing. More than enough to get him shaking his head at what they find funny, but it’s also enough for him to bite the bullet and actually approach you.

Honestly, he’d really like how blunt you are from the get-go. It means you don’t mince your words with him; won’t hold back your thoughts for fear of a filter. Kakyoin doesn’t have to concern himself that you’re holding what you think back from him; and despite how guarded you are, your bluntness gives him a window to the person you are beneath all of that. Granted, sometimes your headstrong attitude and refusal to back down from confrontations can potentially cause more trouble than expected, especially if it’s with someone who’s just as, if not more competitive. Thankfully Kakyoin’s there to play mediator and step in for you. He’s not entirely a saint though, as a couple times he’s seen you go off on someone who rightfully deserved it (usually someone who’s made the mistake of doing your loved ones dirty and setting off the protective mama bear in you), and he was more than happy to chill on the sidelines with a proud smile. Kakyoin can’t help admiring the fire behind your eyes and the bite in your words when you get protective, it’s a side of you that he finds himself smitten for.

Kakyoin recognizes that wall you’ve put around yourself almost immediately, as he’d done much the same for a significant portion of his own life before meeting the Crusaders. It doesn’t take long for him to piece together how your defenses differ from his own, stemmed from the tragedies in your past that have given you enough reason to put up that guard to protect yourself from being hurt further. Kakyoin won’t pry - he knows better than to push someone to reveal a part of themselves that their past has taught them to push down for the sake of self preservation.

And sure enough slowly, surely, you’ll find yourself beginning to ease up around Kakyoin a little more each day. There’s never any pressure to be more, to do more other than just exist around one another for a while. And on the bad days where your anxiety and depression feel a little too consuming, that means more than words could ever convey. Quality time is a love language Kakyoin prides himself over. Being active in being engaged with your partner feels to him like his partner is proving that the relationship matters, that he matters to you; so the fact that you two both share this as a love language only aids in melting down those walls just enough to carve a pocket of space for the pair of you.

When your playful side comes out, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Kakyoin so pleased. Not only because it’s proof that you’re finally beginning to trust him, but it’s oh so entertaining watching this part of you coming to the forefront of your interactions. Be careful, he gives as good as he gets on the playful front, and can spot when the mood takes you from a mile off. All it takes is seeing that mischievous glint in your eyes and a smile is already tugging at his lips as he watches you, eyes following your every move just waiting for you to make the first move in whatever antics you’ve got bubbling in that beautiful brain of yours.

Your art is an excellent buffer for when you’re first getting to know each other. Kakyoin has an appreciation for art, and often makes his own when he can find the time and has his supplies on hand. If you’ll entertain his inquiries, you two could literally spend a good chunk of time talking about what you like to make, your preferred medium, what supplies or brands you prefer over others. Other times he’s content just to exist in your space while you’re making something if you’ll let him; the same goes for reading too while he’s doing his own thing. If you’re feeling up to it, these activities can be enjoyed outside too. Not too far, just the garden or a spot nearby that will give you both the peace and quiet and chance to just sit and enjoy the outside world without people.

Unfortunately, Hierophant's ‘emeralds’ don’t persist after he’s withdrawn his stand, though Kakyoin often makes use of his stand to produce them for you to admire for a while. It makes him happy seeing you taking the time to admire something Hierophant (and by extension himself) has created. Knows little about crystals, but he sees you gush over how pretty you think they look, so Kakyoin keeps his eyes out on something that you’d like that follows your interests.

If you want someone who can match your competitive streak, Kakyoin is your guy. Going toe to toe in multiplayer matches can get intense when you’re playing against each other. Kakyoin makes a habit to memorize the controls and gameplay to use to his own advantage, so any and all 1v1 matches against him are engaging and victories are often hard won. If it’s an online game that puts you toe to toe with others as a team however? The two of you become a powerhouse to be feared. No one is safe from the absolute unit that your united front offers - you fill in the gaps in each other’s defense, and with Kakyoin’s bold playstyle he provides ample distraction for your own work; safe to say all of the Crusaders have felt the sting of defeat if they come over on a game night. For single player games Kakyoin will still gladly sit in, though just be prepared for him to fill in your play time with excerpts from the game guide or his own opinions on the game if it’s a title that he’s familiar with.

#jjba #jjba match ups #jjba match up #match ups #match up #jjba kakyoin #jjba noriaki kakyoin #noriaki kakyoin #kakyoin #part3 #stardust crusaders #ghost's post #toxic-gorgon #now that im looking at his doodle i made his hair a lil more brown than red oops #request #jjba x reader

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thejojosanctuary · 2 months ago

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Could i get a matchup?

Female|Any pronounce|Taurus|Pansexual|ISTP

My love language is physical touch i dream of being someone more important to the world and actually make a difference,I’m usually quiet unless am with friends and people ik and trust my friends say am sassy sarcastic and yes i will respond “your mom/dad” and “up your ass” to every question lmao, i can get angry quickly but it usually goes away quickly lmao i can be very lazy but sometimes usually at night i get random energy and try to clean my room or something but give up 5 minutes later, i cant cook at all like i cant even cook a simple egg, am allergic to cats but will still pet and cuddle them if they let me i can be afraid of the dark after watching something scary but other then that dont really have any fears i like coffee,animals,sweet spicy sour really any food, listening to music, sleeping,watching horror movies and anime,playing games and being on being on my phone usually talking to my friend at 5AM when i need to wake at 7AM my ideal type would probably be someone who jokes more and is less serious honestly i love myself a himbo my ideal date would probably be something more casual like maybe a walk thru a park going to a cafe you know?

Thanks for the request! Took a little time but I believe I've found a wonderful match up for you...

I match you with Okuyasu!

It’s safe to say that Okuyasu would be smitten from the word go when he’s first introduced to you. You’re out with friends when you run into the trio of boys, and it doesn’t take much talking on your friends’ part before the two groups gradually just merge into one big hangout together.

At first he thinks that the two of you got off on the wrong foot, and that he’s done something to make you wary of him given how you’re initially so quiet. You seem to want to keep to yourself at first, sticking close to the side of one of your friends, clearly not yet ready to trust these guys you’ve just met. Even Okuyasu knows that he can be kind of abrasive and comes off as an intimidating guy at first glance - but the last thing that he wants to do is give you the wrong impression from the get-go! Josuke and Koichi are quick to reassure their friend- you’re just the quiet type, that’s all! Though it’s the confirmation from one of your friends that you’ll warm up to him once you trust him, you just need some time that finally eases his fears. In fact, when your friend mentions you’re actually quite sassy and outspoken with your friends, Oku begins to look forward to seeing that side of you when you finally start warming up to him.

Which, surprisingly, doesn’t take that long at all! Especially when Okuyasu goes out of his way to spend time with you on your own terms and show that he’s an okay guy (not that you need convincing, but it’s the thought that counts). It isn’t long until that sassy sarcasm of yours finally comes out around him, and out of the blue too.

Josuke’s looking for something he misplaced during the usual hang out gaming night, and with how comfortable a position you and Okyusasu have got yourselves into, Josuke’s left to fend for himself on the search front while you watch from the comfort of the couch. At his defeated huff of “Man, where is it?!” your retort is a brisk “up your ass” without thinking twice. The echoed “HUH?!” makes you realize huh, you’ve never pulled that line in front of them, have you? Don’t worry though, while it gets an eye roll and a grumble about being ‘real mature’ from Josuke, there’s no missing Okyuasu’s snicker. From there, anytime someone asks a question along those lines you can catch Okuyasu’s eye like he’s already waiting for the punchline.

Let’s be honest, Okuyasu is an impulsive soul who’s quick to rile up, similar to you but different in his own way. The way that you handle that anger however, is actually effective for calming Oku too. He gets heated on your behalf when you’re upset, wanting to validate your frustration and wanting to fix it, however as soon as he sees that you’ve cooled off that anger just as quickly it mellows him out too. It’s actually comedic watching it happen in real time, how just seeing you calm yourself is enough to temper Oku’s mood too.

Don’t even stress about the cooking - if you want food, Okuyasu is your guy! I think that even before DIU he’s got a decent grasp of a bunch of quick, easy meals that are really filling! Sure, he’s the kinda guy that prefers grabbing quick bites to eat with you, doubling it as some date time, but watching you struggle to cook even an egg he clocks on that you could really use some help in the kitchen. He sees it as a chance to impress you, hoping that you’ll look up to him more and see him as a dependable guy - it gives him the push he’s been needing to start getting serious about cooking too. I like to think he asks Tonio for some pointers and dish ideas to start making some heavy duty dishes that you’ll like - swears he was just learning for the hell of it, but there’s no hiding the pride on his face every time you tuck into food he made with his own hands.

Right, so, depending on how bad your cat allergy is determines how worried he’s gonna be at your insistence to pet them. A mild reaction like redness and itchiness? An understandable sacrifice when you’ve got a cat flopped at your feet demanding scritches. But if it’s more serious he’ll panic whenever a feline so much as wanders in your general direction, and more often than not will snatch them right out of the way and plop them down far enough away he deems it ‘safe’. The compromise for the pair of you is Stray Cat, as the little guy is more plant than cat but still purrs up a storm whenever you pet him.

If Okuyasu’s staying the night when you get those sudden middle of the night energy bursts, I think it’s a tossup of if he can stay awake long enough for you to get them done. He’s barely conscious when you suddenly hop out of bed, more asleep than awake and his hair’s a total mess but he’ll try (and fail) to untangle himself from the sheets long enough to wait out your cleaning montage. Crashes the second you give up - he’s already back to sleep before your head even hits the pillow. He’ll still trip over the stuff you’ve reorganized in the morning though, every time, even if you try to warn him when you have to get up.

Similar to when you’re on those middle of the night cleaning attempts, Okuyasu’s determined to stay awake to keep you company; however you still begin to lose him around the 3-4am mark. He likes to cuddle close to you when you’re having late night calls with your friends, so at one point in the night you’ll likely find a hand blindly patting around the bed for you till Oku can pry his face from his pillow, having him reach out to you mid-call to use your lap as a pillow or muffle his snores against your side that are still somehow loud enough to have you and your friend giggling on the other line.

Morioh’s choc full of places to go - cute cafes to eat out at or get takeout on the days you wanna stay home. Not to mention being surrounded by all that greenery and thick trees a little further out of town, there’s plenty of places to just walk around and hang out! Oku’s very low maintenance like that, so long as he can hang out and you’re there, it’s a great date! Casual dates work out better for the pair of you; there’s less pressure to be absolutely perfect and with easy plans there’s less of a concern for things going wrong that can’t be fixed or laughed off. That doesn’t mean Okuyasu doesn’t stress the hell out sometimes, especially the first few dates, worrying if you’re just saying you like casual dates to make him happy, or that you’re only agreeing to come because you feel bad saying no. Just give him a bit of reassurance, and Oku will soon be riding the dating high all over again.

You’ve confessed to him before how you’ve wanted to be someone more important to the world, which confuses him because you are already important to the world. I mean, hey, you made his world a whole lot better just by being a part of it. He says it so earnestly that it’s kind of flustering, but he means it and he’ll remind you of it in a heartbeat if you ever so much as doubt yourself. This guy is smitten for you - good luck with his big ol’ heart!

#jjba #jjba match ups #jjba match up #match ups #match up #sedsekc #okuyasu #okuyasu nijimura #jjba okuyasu #jjba okuyasu nijimura #part 4 #diamond is unbreakable #ghost's post #request #jjba x reader

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thejojosanctuary · 2 months ago

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If the match ups are still open could I request one from part 3? I'm a 20 year old short, gay, asexual, transmasc who is basically a burnt out gifted kid. I'm really odd I suppose, I like to show affection by grabbing my (hypothetical lmao) boyfriend and screaming quietly and also using words of affirmation and physical touch. I like a lot of childish things so people usually make fun of me and I'm also quite loud and annoying. I really like jokes and the colour blue (I dyed my hair blue bc I like that colour so much lol). It's kind of hard for me to chill unless I'm tired or unmotivated to move ( weird ik /nsrs ). I hope the requests are still open, thank you, have a nice day 💙

Thank you for taking the time to request dear! I know that it's been quite a while, but I think I've found your match...

I match you with Jean Pierre Polnareff!

You and Polnareff would click together so fast it’s as though you were made for each other!

Polnareff is a vibrant soul. Loud, open, wearing his heart on his sleeve to the person lucky enough to earn his affection, and especially loving to boot. The two of you seem to be on the same wavelength from the first time that you cross paths, and it’s almost a guarantee that it’s exactly that which piques his interest and draws him in (not to mention that chance to shoot his shot with such a cutie - he’s just lucky the others don’t intervene when he meandered over to chat you up for the first time). There is no doubt that Pol is a man that you’ll mesh well with. That being said he can also be as blunt as a brick - he tried to deny it but he can’t when you were filled in on his escapades on the way to Egypt pior to meeting - but thankfully the pair of you still manage to hit it off, and it’s clear to see among the other crusaders that you’re going to be as thick as thieves.

Polnareff looooves physical affection, and will be more than happy to take any and all opportunities to dish it right back at you - it’s one of his love languages, after all!! Grab onto his arm and he’ll melt eagerly into your hold. Go in for a hug and he’ll damn near sweep you off of your feet and into his awaiting arms like something out of a fairytale. It’s a great way to get his attention on you when you need it - no sooner has he felt your fingers curl around his forearm or that familiar warmth and weight at his side, that Polnareff’s eyes are on you, effectively pulled away from whatever he was doing to hang off of your every word as though he makes the rest of the world is has to take a step back to make time just for you. You really do have him wrapped around your finger without even trying, and anyone with eyes and a working braincell have clocked onto the effect you have on the excitable frenchman.

Expect him to give as good as he gets though. Love pours from this guy in droves, as though each kiss or hug is trying to convey something that his words simply fail to get across. You can see his affectionate moods coming from a mile off; all you have to hear is one of the many cute nicknames he’s donned you with coyly calling out to you and it’s all over. Granted, it gives you ample time to make your escape or bargain for him to hold off on the affection till later (which in itself is like telling him not to breathe - as Pol’s dramatically professed), but if you’re up for some good ol’ loving say goodbye to any plans you had and pen in an hour or so of kisses peppered across your face and fingers threading through your hair as you’re coaxed into his embrace. Polnareff’s great to cuddle with too! There’s few places that you’ll feel safer than in Polnareff’s arms, face buried in your hair or the crook of your neck, and arms holding firm enough that you’d swear he’s afraid you’ll slip right through his fingers mid-cuddle as he mutters sweet, affirming words between quick pecks.

Go wild with the words of affirmation! Polnareff is more than happy to bask in every shred of praise and affection you’ll give and preen for more, laying it on thick just short of twirling his hair (if that’s even possible) and kicking his feet. Will occasionally pipe up with something cheesy like “Oh stop, stop you’re flattering me!...but go on, go on~!” that’ll have you cracking a smile and wondering if it’s worth letting his ego get this big for how giddy it makes him. There are times where you’ll find he gets into these quiet, reflective episodes. Where the charm and the corny one liners and dramatic declarations are replaced with something more muted, solitary. Just stay with him in these moments - sit by his side and fill in that silence with your presence and your affirming words to bring him back - they mean more than he’ll likely ever be able to express. Be warned, though, you can’t just be all sweet and lovey dovey and not expect to be showered in praise, loving words and kisses in return - it would be an injustice if he didn’t!

Very vocal about his love too, everyone and their grandma is going to know about your relationship and how much he loves you to the point where it’ll border on a tiiinnyyy bit insufferable to others. The Crusaders especially will never hear the end of it the moment that it’s made official - Kakyoin has called you more than once begging you to convince your boyfriend to stop calling him in the middle of the night (thanks to timezones) just to gush over something cute you did that day. Sure, they’d have to have been blind and deaf to have not noticed the blatant showing off and affectionate stares, but Pol just can’t stop bragging about how wonderful you are. He’ll tone it down for you once he learns you’re not the fondest of the overly outlandish public displays, but will compensate when it’s just the two of you to make sure you’re feeling the love.

Polnareff wouldn’t dream of making fun of you, not even before you got together. He’ll playfully rib you about how passionate you get about your interests, making a show of wondering aloud what he’ll have to do to spark that beautiful passion for him. But not unless it’s already been secured between you that it’s all in good fun, and if you even get the notion that there’s any judgment he’s quick to prove otherwise. Who gets to decide liking childish stuff is a bad thing? There’s so much to enjoy in life that stooping low enough to mock what brings others joy is just distasteful. Just hope that no-one who made fun of you makes the mistake of showing their face, or Polnareff will be quick to school them in minding their business and manners.

His jokes are terrible. There’s no way around the fact that they’re eye-roll worthy on a good day, and earn a facepalm and a few new stress lines from his companions when he’s on a roll. More than once he’d bat around ideas for new jokes he’s thought up of off the top of his head with you. During long car rides or just as a way to fill the silence and kill time, once he knows that you’re fond of jokes Polnareff’ll have a field day. Regardless of if he gets a groan or a joke back, what matters most is if it pulls a smile out of you. Even just a little quirk of the lip or a lift in your mood means a job well done as your boyfriend.

He’s waxed poetics about your beautiful blue hair before. The cheesy line he made about its color reminding him of the crisp oceans and that it’s a hue he could gladly get lost in was enough to get you to break into laughter just at the sheer boldness of this guy. Will joke that it must have been his charming blue eyes that drew you in - you just couldn’t resist. That flirting will break to a downright fluster however if that turns out to be one of the things that actually did draw you to him.

Bless this man but you’ll lose his attention on the essays. All the more power to you if you think they’re fun! But Pol is more of a man of action, and he’ll get distracted if given half the chance. That’s not to say he won't be in your corner though - he’s your number 1 supporter! I just hope your focus doesn’t sway easily, as Polnareff is the king of procrastination and when he wants any kind of affection or attention he’s very persuasive about getting you away from what you’re working on.

Now drawing he can get behind! He’s the kind of partner who is happy to throw ideas and inspiration around when you’ve hit a block on what to draw. Bring him anything you’ve made? Polnareff is showing it off to everybody in the nearest vicinity. Will act like you’ve taken the stars from the sky and put them into your art, and will treat the things you’ve made as such. On the long, hopefully fight-free moments on your trip, if you find yourself doodling away you’ll soon find Polnareff gravitating over to watch, hovering over-shoulder and vocalizing his fascination with how you pull ideas out of thin air onto paper so easily.

Polnareff has called you out more than once when it’s time to slow down and enjoy the little things in life (spoken like a true hypocrite bc when he’s wound up into something he’s so stubborn about taking a second to chill that you’ve had to physically wrangle him a couple times.) It doesn’t initially click for him what it takes to get you to feel wound down enough to chill out, but give him time, and a little brainstorming, and he’ll be roping you into enjoying some well deserved downtime before you know it!

This is a man who cares with every breath, every touch, every fibre of his damned being. Once you’ve secured his affections he’s unwavering in his devotion, and a man like Jean-Pierre is who I think would make a wonderful fit for you!

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