fivour

i write things sometimes. i write for | jjba parts 1-5 asks | open

[fivour]

asks are open

i’m ur local writer and jojo villain appreciator so here is my attempt at a writing blog. i’ll do asks for headcanons, drabbles, ‘n’ one shots & post updates abt my fics over on ao3 & maybe some funky, general writing things once in a while.

be a cool kid and read my rules and then send me asks

[fivour]

i haven’t posted here in 4eva huh. so i guess kind of an update on my life:

doing better. 2021 was horrible and 2020 wasn’t much better. as maybe some of the shit i wrote will say aha.

thinking about writing some of my first original longterm works, so that’s fun.

not into jojo anymore but still checking my email every now and then for this blog and for wattpad. i can’t express how good i feel knowing so many people still enjoy the things i wrote. :)

if you want to keep in touch, message me and i’ll give you my new ao3/tumblr/whatever works. i don’t really feel comfortable sharing that stuff publicly rn bc the tumblr fandom for my current fixation is a shitshow and i’m not keen on getting harassed.

[fivour]

Relation of art and pain anon here yet again! I was thinking about kakyoin and polnareff's friendship, I really like how you wrote it!! I love how they both look out for each other in their own unique way. I know you mentioned their backstory/how they first bonded in the fic but is there any more details you can share about their friendship? How long did it take for them to get used to each other as roommates? (The line "I think he feels indebted to me" really stood out to me too!)

best email to randomly find in my inbox is now your anon asks aha. thank you!

polnareff is a hard one for me to analyze so i kind of struggled with writing him, but wanted to sort of mimick canon a bit. i am a fool that doesn’t write down my Writing Thoughts anywhere, so unfortunately i may have forgotten some big secret plan i had but here are some of my old notes :].

polnareff is very much someone who feels like he has to be the big brother to everyone. kakyoin is no damsel, but he will suck it up and accept what help he’s given to an extent; so polnareff just naturally latched onto that.

the timeline in this fic is soooooo fucked up lol. so i will answer more realistically than the fic is probably laid out: i think it took at least some months for them to get used to each other. polnareff is an amiable dude but kakyoin is a bit tougher to crack. someone like polnareff would really irritate his distrustfulness as well. why is he so happy? why does he ask so many questions? why does he care about me? all the usual thoughts that go through your head when you cannot fathom altruism or your own worth.

this got so long ummmm here’s a keep reading break

opposites rarely attract and at first, that was the case for them. jean is loud, kakyoin is quiet. jean’s warm, kakyoin’s cold. etc, etc. basic conflicts in their personalities that made getting along require some extra effort, especially on kakyoin’s end. it helped that jean is fairly laidback and likes just about anyone, so they were pretty much 50% there.

the scene you’re referring to is the shifting point for that side of things, though. i just skimmed the fic and realized i just. danced around it like a little jester ?? that is on the table for a drabble now because i still have a pretty clear picture for that scene. but for now i’ll summarize in case it never comes:

kakyoin caught jean in a rough spot. there’s always times where old wounds get irritated and everything seems to come crashing in on you... and at this point, maybe a couple months of living together, kakyoin is still weary, so when he sees jean on an off day, he pounces. what could be wrong with a guy who never has any problems?

meanwhile, jean is the type of guy who talks a lot under duress and he likes kakyoin alright by now and he really has no one who listens to him, especially not about sherry, so he bites. his family never talks about his sister. it’s the thing that you don’t mention, the family’s dark little secret that ruins the facade of a happy home. and of course, he doesn’t tell anyone - it’s not exactly small talk and he’s been told not to and he’s an obedient son. and even with kakyoin, he doesn’t open up that much - but when you’ve held something in for so long, even vague words are enough to get rid of the pressure and anyone you tell them to can sense that.

kakyoin in the fic calls him out for minimizing it as “well i just got pissed off about this thing when i was a kid” and he is right. the entire reason jean wants to be an investigator is because he does not want anyone else to suffer the way sherry’s murder has made everyone around it suffer. he is a very softhearted man and that sort of thought is a call to action for him. of course you can probably smell how i wanted to mimick his canon motivations here. sherry’s death is pretty much just the real life equivalent of what happened in canon, for context.

everything he does is propelled by a love for his sister. it’s his revenge on the world, in a way, for taking her. jean is a romantic that adds a deeper meaning to everything and so he feels that his mission is very important, very literal. he’s one of those people who believes he’ll change the world for the better. but every now and then, he gets cold feet just like everyone else, feels stupid, feels like it’s a childish ambition that he should let go of. often when he’s stressed, he will go into this self-depreciating mindset. he knows he can’t change the past, but sometimes it feels like that’s all he’s trying to do.

of course this is something that kakyoin can understand. this side of jean, that’s realistic to the point of pessimism, that’s unsure, that’s unhappy - it’s so much more approachable to someone who feels that way than the mirage of a put together man who has goals and ambitions and so much going for him, and no demons beneath the surface to speak of. it humanizes jean to him to realize he isn’t really all that different, that the way he thinks isn’t so fundamentally contradictory to how kakyoin thinks. and while he doesn’t share much with kakyoin, frankly can’t share much because he does not understand a lot of his own mind, he does share with him that it’s sherry that makes him want to be the guy who saves everyone else. that her death is why he wants to help others. that he wishes no one else will ever feel the way he does, that no innocent girl suffers as much as she did.

kakyoin thinks it’s some of the most respectable stuff he’s ever heard from anyone, let alone from someone who used to seem so one dimensional to him. it pries his heart right open to see jean laid out so plainly to him, and he’s a fair man, so he shares much of what he ends up sharing with jotaro, with jean in that moment. they’re both emotionally constipated and have a sort of immature view of these sorts of things, so it only feels fair to him to expose himself just as much as jean has.

and of course there is the fact that jean is victim of a bit of toxic masculinity and certainly grew up hearing that real men don’t cry. especially after sherry’s death. so when someone like kakyoin, whose only prejudice against “weakness” is aimed at himself, comes along and offers him a shoulder to cry on without hesitation, and shows just as much as his heart to him as he has, it leaves him speechless. it feels like the ultimate gesture of kindness even though it’s such a simple, natural thing. like jean has been waiting for a friend like him his entire life and he just got dorm-lottoed right into his scrawny ass arms lol.

tldr; two lonely men find comfort in one another (not clickbait) (gone platonic) (emotional)

[fivour]

Relation of art and pain anon here again! I read both versions of the story again, one after the other, and I just want to say that I can see the improvement in your writing - It's really amazing! Of course I enjoyed both but I really like how you expanded on the relationships in the updated version (jotaro and holly, kakyoin and polnareff, and even jotaro and polnareff). And the ending, with kakyoin being invited to the kujo's and him painting hierophant, was very satisfying. Love it!

thank you so much! that actually means a lot to me. i'm glad the improvement showed, and definitely in the relationships because i know i used to have a lot (more, lol) trouble with that. ❤

[fivour]

hi! I really love your fic the relation of art and pain! I know you said you were open to asks about it a while ago, and if that's still accurate I was wondering if you could share more about kakyoin (if that's too vague of a topic, mabye stuff about his backstory, his symptoms, his relationships w his family & jotaro, or any future plans you had for him?). No pressure to answer though! Again, love the fic, it made me smile a lot :D

thank you so much!! i'm glad you liked it :) i don't have my comprehensive notes anymore from when i planned the fic, but here’s some stuff! also this ended up being full of painful rambling so i cut it down a lot, feel free to ask for elaborations or more or anything like that.

cw: mentions of bullying & violence; schizophrenia.

most of the significance of will and robert's cafe got cut in the end. but, the original plan was to have allusions to the fact that when kakyoin was beaten up, robert was the first to find him and get help. i wanted the cafe to be close to where he got his scars (why he feels phantom pain when there) and also wanted to portray the father-son type bonds he has with those two.

yes i’ve been waiting for an opportunity to say this since publishing and realizing i failed miserably at showing it lol

as for his symptoms i’ll try to keep it short. hopefully the fic does the rest of the talking. he has a perceived loss of control to his hallucination of hierophant; thought projection delusions; auditory hallucinations; paranoia; blunted emotional responses; blunt speech/lack of a “filter”; disorganized speech/thoughts; social isolation.

enough pain what about art... kakyoin has difficulty understanding others’ emotions as his do not have the same frequency, depth, or reasoning as others might, so he appreciates the fact that jotaro is often blunt or just as confused as he is. it’s part of why jotaro is so easy to get along with for him and why they click.

as they grow closer, jotaro would eventually get to a comfortable enough spot to flat out admit his confusion and that type of honesty and trust would probably just make kakyoin shit himself LOL

jotaro is clueless to it but he’d give kakyoin a lot of things that he has never been given before by accident. awkward dumbasses... but make them in love.

in a sequel or spin-off, if i ever wrote more for this au it would probably attempt to show a complete picture of kakyoin’s struggles, including hospitalization and recovery. i cut out the very rushed hospitalization chapters from the original fic bc it deserves more time, attention, and detail. i would prefer to do it right, or not do it at all!

[fivour]

Came here to say that I love your work, it's very eccentric and memorable! ❤

And if your requests are open, and it's not much of a personal one, (or maybe it is), Hol Horse x reader? 🥺

thank you!! of course u can, i love hol horse. it got really soft by accident lol but it’s ok cowboys need love too

read on ao3

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Hol Horse confuses stupidity with bravery more often than he, or you, would like to admit. His first excursion for Dio has left him full of shame.

If not for the reward Dio offered him, you're sure he would've claimed that he won, so easily that he walked away unscathed, to make sure you were impressed. Not even a scratch! He would've said. Now ain't that fine? But without the money, it wouldn't have been difficult to call bluff on his fantastic story.

You know he doesn't enjoy lying to you, anyways, returning like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs to tell you the truth only hours later.

The hotel room you stay in — for Hol is too prideful and too concerned for your sake to take Dio's offer of room and board — is warm and humid. As per usual, Hol posted you a while away from where he was actually working. It is always your insistence on tagging along, despite the flicker of sincere concern that it inspires on his face.

Without fail, he changes his mind after the first day, just as he does now. Eyes closed as you comb your fingers through his hat-terrorized hair, he looks rather glad you joined him.

Still, the middle of his brow is faintly creased, the corners of his mouth downturned, such an unusual expression for resting his head in your lap.

It bothers him that he might have to go back a second time to finish the job.

His lips lift when you bring his hand to yours, kissing the back of it. He has just come back and his tan skin smells reminiscent of gunpower, the gunshot residue from this morning not yet washed off. Hol's eyes flicker open, softening when they focus on you.

"What would I do without you?" He asks, mouth quirking into his usual grin. Brushing your hand away from his, he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand.

"Probably not much," you say.

And it isn't wrong to suggest, really.

He knows this, too, and snuggles into your lap. You are certain that, once he's had his rest, he will complain that his feet are sore and so is his back and, while he's at it, his legs, too. Hol is lucky he's a cute whiner, his mouth always drawing into a pout when he's upset.

For now, the rise and fall of Hol's chest begins to slow after a few minutes into a steady, tired breathing pattern. You skim your fingers through the curls at the base of his neck when he turns his head towards your body, earning a soft, content laugh from within his chest. He is too tired to come up with a quip but surely will later, for now letting you dote on him while he slips into a nap.

Before he truly falls asleep — or maybe while in the passage between sleep and wake — Hol says: "Sorry I didn't get us no money yet, doll." His voice is roughening with fatigue, low and slow.

"I don't care about money," you reassure. It would be nice to have the extravagant things he promises you, but you know he is just a sweet talker. Promises are what he does. "I just care about you coming back."

He makes a noise, somewhere between a grumble and a grunt, and draws his knees up as if to pull himself in closer to you.

[lebrookestore-deactivated202412]

guys wtf kids are getting inot relationships in like the fifth grade? bitch i was pretending to be nightmare moon from my little pony when I was ten

[lebrookestore-deactivated202412]

ok reblog this and tell me in the tags what you used to do when you were like 8-10 years old

[fivour]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

characters: holly kujo, reader tags: photography, fluff, pre-stardust crusaders, reader-insert words: 1,182 status: complete

summary: Holly Joestar is certainly no wild, carefree spirit, nor an angered youth desiring change. Still, with a face that is expressive and eyes that are kind, she emits a warmth that would give any photographer pause. At least, it does so for you.

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Even after many a conversations' worth of time, Holly persists that she is not the model type.

Perhaps her face is a bit round for the standards, her disposition rather soft and down to earth for the bold trends going on nowadays; Holly Joestar is certainly no wild, carefree spirit, nor an angered youth desiring change. Still, with a face that is expressive and eyes that are kind, she emits a warmth that would give any photographer pause.

At least, it does so for you.

With only a few magazine level shoots under your wing, you haven't yet made a name for yourself in the world of photography. Your portfolio is full enough and hits the mark on trends while managing to deviate tastefully away from time to time, something that pleases most who look at it. Yet even without much critical acclaim, Holly has spent the last year she's known you amazed by you.

Her eyes, so clear and blue, are full of fascination whenever you talk about technicalities; though she never has quite grasped the concepts you try to explain, her mind always seemingly elsewhere.

This was, of course, the perfect argument to convince her that even if she doesn't believe she is model material, you would know better.

[fivour]

so this was posted in january and none of u were gon tell me until now. nefarious

[fivour]

i would put what my new ao3 is that i post on nowadays since i'm not very into jojo anymore but i would be bullied off of this platform by middle aged men foaming at the mouth so you will just have to sniff it out until i grow a pair

[fivour]

so this was posted in january and none of u were gon tell me until now. nefarious

[fivour]

as you’ve probably guessed, the relation of art and pain sequel thing probably won’t happen, i do have a mini thing written that i don’t enjoy but it’s finished and might be posted at some point idk.

asks about it are still super welcome and encouraged, i like to talk about it and expand the au, i just don’t have the wherewithal for another full out fic yknow

also i still get comments on the fic which makes me happy and i’m really glad so many people find comfort in it.

[fivour]

art & pain playlist

a month without posting bc of mental health but i’m back for a moment.

here are some songs i associate with events/symbolism/themes from the au (not just constrained to the fic).

01. right where it belongs - nine inch nails 02. eleanor rigby - godhead 03. disassociative - marilyn manson 04. surgery - jack off jill 05. tearjerker - korn 06. island of souls - sting 07. misery loves my company - three days grace 08. someone - journey

[fivour]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

characters: jotaro kujo tags: character study, i think?, self-indulgent, references to depression words: 724 status: complete

summary: Now, as the days mount on his shoulders and weigh on his heart, he enters a fugue state in which the Weariness prevails and overtakes him.

note:  i haven't been updating as much recently. consider my ongoing stuff on pause for maybe the rest of this month at least?

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Weary.

It is the only word to describe the pervasive feeling inside of Jotaro, inside his mind for certain and inside his body with much less certainty. As if his neurons cannot decide whether or not to carry signals, sometimes he cannot get out of his hotel bed because his numbness has paralyzed him; sometimes he itches for a fight, fast and quick and dirty. Sometimes, when he is trying to read, his mind blinks off as if it were a light switch which Jotaro does not have control over.

Perhaps it would be wise to share these things with someone. But Jotaro has never thought that sharing has much wisdom to it at all, and, in the end, he knows no one would quite care.

What were they to do, Joseph might ask, about something in his head? And he would ruffle his hair and leave it for Jotaro to sort out on his own. He did this when Jotaro asked him anything, like it's all the same to him.

It twists his heart, just a little.

And makes him angry.

[fivour]

sorry for not updating shit ummmm i was sad and then i got obsessed with the freezing moon and i’m still sad but i only think about two dead guys now

im still writing for jjba i have wips and stuff but maybe they will be very slow coming out, idk, just an update

[fivour]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

pairings: dio brando/vanilla ice characters: dio brando, vanilla ice tags: fluff, this is actually cute for once, stands, drabble words: 489 status: complete

summary: A phantom warmth is present now, enveloping Vanilla and waking him from his fitful sleep, and a strange, light weight is on his chest.

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The mansion is cold, even with the tapestries and rugs that Vanilla Ice and the others have all hung and lain in their rooms to keep the chill away. At this time of evening, it is always freezing. But a phantom warmth is present now, enveloping Vanilla and waking him from his fitful sleep, and a strange, light weight is on his chest.

He panics, firstly, afraid he is having trouble breathing. He's heard of things like this happening, where you freeze and cannot move and see awful things, and his anxious mind jumps immediately to this conclusion, until he raises onto his elbows and the weight doesn't follow. It slumps off of his chest and onto his middle and—

Nuzzles there.

He turns the sensation over in his mind, before confirming that it was, indeed, a nuzzle.

[fivour]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

pairings: dio brando/vanilla ice characters: dio brando, vanilla ice, giorno giovanna words: 743

prompt(s): 25. looks both ways. & 26. i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to.

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Giorno would've preferred to have gone out with Vanilla. Being with Dio is tense and strained, because neither knows what to say and Giorno doesn't feel particularly welcomed in the silence. But Vanilla is at an interview and Giorno can't wait another week to buy new clothes.

Dio has tried to make conversation for a while now. What books he likes, what movies he's seen, what his favorite color is... the things that, Giorno knows, he has missed out on learning for the past fifteen years. Giorno struggles to give him anything more one word answers.

It's almost painful.

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