Can I request Jotaro x fem reader who has an angel like stan who’s feathers can harden like steel or silver? (Basically like Hawks quirk from bnha)
[ I had a ton of fun with this one! c: ]
It was supposed to be a simple car ride. A long one, at that, but there wasn’t anything wrong with that in your eyes. After the chaos of India, the stand users, the…Polnareff and the toilet situation…and Avdol, which you now had to hide from the Frenchman he’d been willing to sacrifice himself for, the sheer absurdity of everything and so fast-paced that if you so much as blinked you’d open your eyes to find yourself in yet another trap, yet another battle, yet another hurried attempt to move on in hopes of avoiding enemy contact, constantly out of breath without a moment to yourself, a nice, tranquil, lengthy drive sounded perfect. There was always the threat of Dio’s minions, but to your knowledge you’d dealt with a fair enough amount of them in India to say that you’d be surprised if the god wasn’t keeping his security closer to his lair. You had the advantage of a van regardless. If someone tried to run after you, all that was necessary was a lean into the gas and you’d be gone in an instant, out of harm’s way. So as the time passed on with you sandwiched between Jotaro and his grandfather, you relaxed for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, gently leaning your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder as he let you sink into him. He wasn’t much of the embracing type, nor the talkative one, but the occasional serene expressions the two of you would share every now and then, the way his head would sometimes hover over yours, a quiet reassurance of his presence, was more than enough for you.
When the red car began to tail you, you didn’t pay it much attention. Probably just another traveler. And especially after Polnareff’s unprecedented swerving around the sedan, a rather annoyed traveler, who, you supposed, had every right to be. But after Anne rejoined the party, squished in beside you and Mr. Joestar, and a passing glance at the back window to see the mountainous terrain disappear into the vague smoothness of the road, only to notice the very same car, you shifted into cautiousness. Jotaro sensed it, gaze following yours, eyeing you with a small grunt of acknowledgement before the car suddenly honked at you. It passed, only to slow you down, either meaning one of two things: a pissed-off driver clinging to vengeance like a moth to a light, or an enemy stand user. The instant Jotaro asked if anyone had seen the driver’s face, your stand materialized at your side. Bathed in a golden-white light, practically glowing, feathered wings sprouting from its back, it was an angelic sight. Every time Jotaro saw it, he was captivated. But as your stand leaned out the window and hardened its feathers, he was reminded of the situation at hand, and fell quiet as you launched steely projectiles at the car, careful to gather them just behind the driver’s window so that should the car’s operator crank it down you’d have a good view of his face. Of course, this was all thrown off-balance when you found your own vehicle swerving into a truck. Instantly you retracted your lost feathers and prepared for a fight only to leave without one. The rest of the ride went in relative silence, whether from shock or insecurities or lack of conversation material or all of the above, but whatever tranquil quiet you and Jotaro had shared earlier was replaced with an air of tension. Neither of you let your guard down as you pulled into a small roadside teahouse.
You were still nonetheless fascinated with the idea of sugarcane juice, and Jotaro, noticing your longing glances, ordered one for you. “Thanks,” you smiled as he passed the drink to you, beginning to sip it. It tasted like liquid sugar - it was delicious. Jotaro took note of the pleased grin on your face, and you took note of his mark, offering the glass to him. “It’s really sweet, but good. Try some.”
With a shrug, Jotaro began to down it, only to pause midway through his first taste and practically gag. How could you stand that? It felt like trying to swallow melted sugar cubes, somehow sweeter than any sugar he’d ever tasted, anything he could’ve ever imagined. He coughed and crinkled his face with disgust before sliding it back to you. “All yours,” he grumbled.
“Let me guess. You take your coffee black, and never use milk or honey in your tea, hm?” you giggled, drinking down the last of it as Jotaro snorted before looking away. You quickly followed him: the red car was in the parking lot. Setting your glass down, you moved to head up with the rest of the group, who had evidently noticed the presence of the familiar vehicle, faces shifting with suspicion after the bartender admitted he hadn’t seen the person leaving it. There was only one option left, then, but the entirety of the group looked ready to punch the truth out of every possible patron, tooth and nail. “Let me handle this,” you instructed, “we don’t need to waste energy trying to find him before we fight him. Come on, get a drink and act normal.”
The others sensed your plan and followed suit, Jotaro ordering a black chai tea that didn’t deserve its title as he requested no milk or sweetener in it, leaving just the subtle spices, almost as if to prove a point, eliciting a small laugh from you as you ordered a refill of your juice and settled down at a table with him, beginning to head to work. The range of your stand was considerably larger than Jotaro’s, albeit not as great as Kakyoin’s, but wide enough to encompass all of the tables and bars stationed around you. You could feel Jotaro’s eyes carefully watching over you as you set to work. With your hardened feathers, you sent one to each table, fashioning makeshift quills sharp enough to dig into the wood of the simply-fashioned furniture and carefully but quickly carving the phrase Car? into it. When nobody showed any signs of response, save for shock at the word suddenly appearing on everyone’s table seemingly out of thin air, you pushed the boundaries a bit more. Angling your feathers’ sharp points in the direction of the customers, you fired a slow burst of consecutive arrows, denting the tables closer and closer to the patrons every time, slowly but surely, a warning sign at its finest. Again you were faced with nothing but shocked faces. Nobody seemed to have noticed it was you sending the calls, or at least, if they did, and indeed saw your hardened feathers approaching, refused to show it. You set your jaw as you reached the table’s edge, scraping out Show yourself, coward, followed by a forceful jolt as a single feather cemented its way harshly between each patrons’ legs, at the least scaring them and providing a brief trapping just long enough for the others of your team to scan the area only to come up empty before the noise of an engine starting distracted all of you.
The red car was once again on the move. “Crap,” you muttered, abandoning your drink as you followed Jotaro back to the van and hopped in, bracing yourselves for a rocky, speedy chase, instantly ignited and kicking off the automobile like it had been shoved with the force of a thousand men, jolting forwards and gaining momentum in mere seconds. You grit your teeth. If you’d just managed to catch him quicker at the drive-in, or kept your feathers beside the red car’s window, you would’ve been able to make out his face.
Jotaro saw the subtle change in your face and gave you a nudge; his way of reassurance. “Like hell that asshole’s getting away.” As the van sped up and swerved around the curves of the road, hitting stray rocks and throwing about its contents, you were slammed into Jotaro time and time again only to extend a wing around Jotaro and the other around yourself, creating a protective, soft barrier between the two of you. It wasn’t that you disliked his close presence, but you would understandably prefer it if that presence wasn’t caused by a bumpy ride after a stand user as fast as the van could go. Once more you shot your arrows out at the car, landing almost soundlessly against the red paint behind the driver’s window against the previous indentations you’d left.
A dead end. And then, somehow, the car was behind you, ramming into the van and lurching everyone forwards, your wings the only things preventing you from flying face-first into the back of Kakyoin’s chair, Mr. Joestar using his size and strong arms to hold himself and Anne back. And then suddenly you were falling. Thankfully, Hierophant Green’s quick action and Jotaro’s devilishly pointed action saved you, dragging the culprit down, tightening the wench as you emerged safely on the other side, only for your stand and Star Platinum to emerge at the same time, Jotaro delivering heavy blows to the now airborne vehicle and you piercing through its windows with feathers flying from your wings, sending the red car crashing into the ravine and exploding at the bottom. And yet just when you thought you were done, the car burrowed up from the ground right beneath your means of transportation. The stand had been the car all along.
Before you so much as had a chance to stop him, Jotaro was attacking the stand, only for it to shoot at him and puncture straight through his arms in fractions of a second, you barely capable of holding back a gasp as he attempted to steady himself, you quickly catching him and helping him stand, taking off your jacket and tearing it in half to wrap each of his arms within them in a primitive bandage, monitoring him but not interrupting him. You trusted him. But it hurt to see him in pain like that, to know that the stand was already capable of such damage when just barely provoked. You were able to sense the car preparing for its next attack just in time and enveloped Jotaro - and the approaching Kakyoin and Polnareff - in your wings, pulling them tightly to you and hardening your feathers so densely that it took a good portion of your strength to keep them covering the men’s bodies as the next attacks were launched, only to fire and rebound off your protective barrier, just a few managing to hit weak spots and causing cuts, thankfully not deep, to drag along your arms as you braced yourself for more.
“[Y/n], the boulders. Attack from there,” Jotaro breathed against you, and reluctantly you retracted your wall, darting for the safety of the rocks instead, rushing behind them, giving you just enough time to almost absent-mindedly wrap one wing protectively around Jotaro, holding him close, while the other fired steel-sharp, thorny feathers at the attacker. They pierced the windows and dug into its sides, but failed to completely penetrate the center of the stand, because the car, albeit slowed by your firing, continued to close in on you. You let your boyfriend go as everyone scrambled up the mountainside and as the vehicle followed, preparing to attack only to realize what had caused your injuries - gasoline. More shots were fired before you could stop them, hitting Jotaro squarely once more, you barely catching him in your arms before darting out in front, hardening your wings spread as far as you could stretch them, only for your injuries - and subsequently those of everyone your wings touched - to spark into agonizing flame as electricity raged in your veins. Despite your agony you managed to throw a glance over your shoulder only to see a fear you never knew you had.
Jotaro was enveloped in flames, collapsing to the ground. The rest of the world faded away, there was nothing but you and the ever-fading faint calls of the others to stay back, but you wouldn’t stay back, you couldn’t stay back, because all you saw and heard and felt was Jotaro, burning, right in front of you, as a scream ripped through your throat as you fumbled for anything, anything, to douse the fire in, only for Jotaro’s voice to snap you out of it. Your heart was in your chest - the sound had come from behind you, but the flames still raged in front of you…were you just imagining things, trying to avoid the terrifying thought that you’d never see the one you loved most again? But as you turned, a gasp escaped you as Jotaro struggled out of the ground, you rushing to his side and helping him up. “Jotaro!”
“I’m okay, [y/n],” he reassured, voice low as he readied himself for the next round of offense, an arm, the less injured one but bleeding nonetheless, draping itself around your shoulder and giving your arm a gentle squeeze, “but it’s time to make this bastard pay.”
