(Book Three of the ❝Jojo's Bizarre x Reader❞ Series. Please read previous works to understand the lore.)
History repeats itself when (Y/N) "Drei" (L/N) III, granddaughter of (Y/N) (L/N)-Wright, turns vampiric. It's a race against time as she seeks r...
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The year is 1987.
"(Y/N)," you heard your mother, Yanni, speak as she leaned against the living room doorway.
You laid on the couch, headphones on as you listened to cassette tapes and read a book for class. You dressed in loungewear: an oversized white t-shirt once belonging to your father who had died a week prior, sweatpants, and socks of different colors and styles from one another. "Yes?"
"Your grandmother is flying in today. She took her sweet time doin' it, too," she explained, crossing her arms. She wore a t-shirt that she turned into a crop top, leggings, and socks that actually matched. She wore eyeliner and lipstick that really popped in comparison to her skin color. Your mother was taking the death of your father much better than you ever could. "Now normally, I'd kick your lazy ass off the couch and send you to school, but I'll make the exception today."
You had been living in Japan for most of your life. Very few of your memories were in New York City, where you were originally born, but your father got offered the opportunity of a lifetime working for a company in Japan due to your family's connection to the Speedwagon Foundation. It would have been financial suicide to not accept the offer. Until the day he died, Marriott (L/N) went to the laboratory with a smile on his face, a kiss goodbye from his wife, and a high-five from his daughter as he walked out the door.
The night he was murdered, you came home from going to a restaurant with your friends to find your mother speaking to the police with the body of your father on the floor, sealed off by caution tape and detectives taking photos. The glass window was broken around him, and multiple stab wounds were in his torso. Your mother had just gotten home from grocery shopping when she found him.
"Thank you for giving me a day to grieve," you mumbled in response to Yanni. "For the record, Grandma took so long because she's busy doing foundation work."
Your mother narrowed her eyes at you, "Watch your tone."
"Sorry, I'm just..." You rubbed your dry eyes, then exhaled. "I'm sorry."
