JJBA x Readers

Bruno Bucciarati : Requiem

This was supposed to be a crossover between Eoh and P5 but as an AU, because I can't stop myself from writing absolute drivel

I'm sorry if it's hard to understand, it honestly turned into some absolute ninth gate shit
References to Hamlet, cos Ophelia is one of my most favourite paintings

A church organ played softly in the distance, faintly dancing amongst the calls of birds in the wind. You sat at the Dock, legs dangling off the pier. There was a ceremony happening in a church nearby, angelic singing filling the air. It sounded like a funeral, from the words being sung. It sure as hell wasn't a wedding, the very thought making you want to vomit.

You had been coming here to the pier every day for a whole year even in bad weather, but this this time was different. Today was the day you had buried your beloved fiance, a year ago. He had been buried beside his father, in a cemetery close to your shared home in Naples. Clothes were still folded nearly or hung up in the wardrobe, his personal items still in their original places where possible and his side of the bed still empty.
It had come as such a shock when you had been offered to see him one last time in the chapel. The cuts and bruises besmirching his porcelain skin, his perfect barnet unruly and greasy, the ivory suit bedraggled through filth on his freezing body. It was wrong to look at. This wasn't him.
Apparently he had been killed long before. You had been assured that his last thoughts had been with you, but it was no consolation.
At least, you told yourself, he was with his beloved father he missed so much. Apparently he had even roamed the streets as a mere spirit according to his teenage colleague, Giorno. Mista, whom you knew well, backed him up on it, and it could only have been possible when they came back with three bodybags, albeit Fugo not being there. Plus, they had certain powers others didn't. You did too, but you didn't use it for much.
Your stand, Ophelia, could force reeds and fauna to grow, eventually strangling its victim if pulled tight enough. Today, you had been using it to trail rosemary with you everywhere you went in a sort of sombre trance. Purple petals flew into the air, lightly settling on the waters surface and floating away with the tide, destined to go wherever it went. That was how you were with Bruno. Happy whenever you were with him and going wherever he went, because being with him made you happy.

The salty sea air was strong enough to keep you sober, reminding you that you were still alive, and it should remain that way. To end your life would be against Bruno's wishes, and that's what kept you alive.
However, you wished you could see him one more time. Smell his cologne, hear his laugh, watch his cheeks dimple as he smiled, feel the strong, secure warmth of his embrace, his soft lips against yours. Those were simple things, but you wanted more. To exchange rings, have a family, make a life... Was it selfish? Was it selfish you basically wanted to die because living was to be with Bruno, and he wasn't a part of your life anymore?
Green ropes tightened around your frame, rustling your dress and dampening your breath. Anger rose again, digging its way out from the bowels of your sorrow to inflict havoc again. You felt as though you were betraying him, refusing to move on with your life.

Suddenly, a flash alerted you, then a loud bang followed, startling you. Raising your arms in front of your face in shock, the world came to a standstill.
You didn't know, but in another dimension, DIO had been defeated once more, resurrecting the fallen. As the air cooled, time reset, ticking backwards further and further.

You found yourself outside of the church, a dirge in progress. It was oddly familiar, angelic singing and a gentle organ playing. The hot sun was beating down on your skin, a cluster of rosemary wrapped around your wrist.
You'd been here before. Walking towards the chapel, you entered and gasped as the place suddenly burned around you, disappearing into ashes. Before you was your handsome fiance, pristine and untouched. He smiled as you approached him, offering his hands out to you.
"Y/N, you look stunning."
"You think?" you asked, peering down at your sheer white dress.
"Yes, simply perfect for our wedding day." You couldn't place it, but something didn't seem right. Your suspicions were revealed when he tilted his head, revealing a green eye, its pupil cracked in two. It was strangely captivating as it simply stared at you, keeping your attention.
Before you could speak, your breath caught in your throat, begging you to scream but you couldn't. There was a searing pain through your chest, beginning from the back. You clawed at the base of your neck, praying it would reduce the pressure on your windpipe. No sound was coming out, you were scratching and scraping, bonds tightening on your arms and legs, rosemary vines and leaves completely choking you as you descended into a deep, dank, darkness. All you could hear were haunting screams.

"Bucciarati! Is that Y/N on the dock?" The capo peered over from his seat, gasping when he recognised your body lay motionless on the beach, plagued by reeds and flowers.
"Oh, God. It is," he panicked. Narancia readied Aerosmith whilst Mista fired a shot beside you, sending some pistols over there to scout. The plane flew over, collecting information and a pistol within seconds before flying them back.
"Bucciarati, I don't think she's breathing!" Number 5 cried, begging them to floor it down to the beach. Thankfully, they were minutes away, and Bucciarati was able to clamber out of the boat quickly, being the son of a fisherman.
He hauled ass, falling to his knees and dragging your body onto his lap to assess the damage. Your dress and skin was wet, a strong smell of seawater emanating from you.
"She must have drowned recently," he stated, creating a zip vertically across your sternum. Water flowed out, making his prediction right. Acting fast, he bent over you, beginning mouth to mouth in case it wasn't too late. The first few breaths made your chest rise and fall, but you didn't seem to be doing it on your own.
All the others could do was group around and pray, offering moral support to their friend and capo. Giorno held your hand in his, begging you to make him sense life.
A miracle happened, and you began to breathe on your own, shallow at first. You were unable to speak, but coughs and splutters enticed sighs and cries of relief from before you. You heaved for air, salty water saturating you, flowers strewn at your feet.
"Oh, you're breathing, thank God," a voice sighed. You were being held, though you weren't sure by exactly who. The surface below you felt cold and wet, like sand, and as you started to breathe normally, you could drag your fingers through it.
Clarity started to piece together, a familiar smell hitting your nose as you were squeezed into someone's chest.
It was... That expensive cologne Bruno used. Unmistakable.
Attempting to support yourself in order to sit up, you were hushed and prompted to stay as you were, weak against the mobsters chest. Panicking, you lunged forward, gripping onto his jacket.
"Hey, it's alright. Steady on."
"Bruno?" you choked out, gasping for air. His eyes filled with tears, ecstatic at the sound of your voice.
"You're alive, you're fucking alive!" he yelled, snuggling you tightly, caring not about the fact your white dress was saturated, the smell of salt water clinging to it.
"Bruno, what happened?"
"Well, you almost drowned." he paused, chuckling. "As for me, I'm not sure. I guess I was dreaming about being in Rome."
You laughed weakly, eventually cackling at such a stupid story. The pair of you didn't remember a thing except that you were separated, when he left to do some sort of business.
"Bruno," you croaked, pushing off stray vines in order to reach out for his face. Your hand stopped at his skin, warm and healthy.
His voice was a relieved squeal as you threw your arms around his neck. He was all arms, cuddling you close and caressing the skin of your back. Your dress had a low back, so you could have skin on skin contact.

"Y/N," a voice spoke. Fluttering your eyelashes, it called again. "Y/N, are you alright?" You opened your eyes, curious as to what blurred your vision, only shadows coming through to begin with. "You were daydreaming again, weren't you?"
"Yeah, I was just thinking about the time I almost drowned."
"You did drown. We had to bring you back."
"That was a year ago today... And I wore this dress."