DC[YJ]:Za Worudo!

I don't own anything, frick off!

this is a DC Young Justice story it's gonna be slight AU cuz frick you that's why. MC has the one and only Za Warudo stand.

But this STANDO POWAH is gonna be slightly different from normal cuz, just stopping time in DC is trash tier thus it will be able to:

slow down time{ae. knock off super speed for the user}

freeze objects in time {inanimate}

mental defense for the user cus the stands are mental+spiritual powers{it's way of defending the user is punching whatever the hell is trying to get in his mind kek!}

later on rewind time {I doubt most of these abilities will be used in this ff, so im just explaning them only for the ones who wish to use them in their own stories}

it is not gonna be a metahuman ability cuz it's a stand, psychics won't be able to see it, but they might feel its presence when active

magic/strong psychic attacks will harm it

as you might've guessed from it's color scheme and the arm's design, it's not gonna be normie The World and from the abilities, it can't be normal

but it is also not requiem nor 'Over Heaven', but a partial transformation with pure gold and platinum armor, with design similar to the fan art of robotic Za Worudo but less machine and more majestic

anyway, enjoy the clusterf*ck

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"Ugh, crap" the words escape from my mouth like a whisper.

what is this? Why does my bed feel so rough, and cold, and why does it smell so bad, and why is it so noisy?! And-

"hey! Please I don't have anything else, please just take my money I beg you! Gah!"

'wut?'

'what the hell is going on?'

I finally force myself to open my eyes and what I see before me gives me quite the scare,

I'm laying inside of a large empty trash bin, wearing my dark gray jacket with my favorite Flash T-shirt underneath , grey addidas pants with green stripes and black converse sneakers… the same thing I remember wearing before waking up here? What was I doing yesterday..?

"Ah! Help anyone! Ple-gah!"

Oh right it was my 20th birthday! I was partying all day, drinking and smoking… but I have never gotten drunk enough to black out much less wind up in some dirty alley.

Looking around the alley for the source of the voice, I spot copious amounts of graffiti lining the walls, most in annoying neon colors just saying "HAHAHAHA", "HA!", "HE WILL RISE"-next to a very high quality depiction of comic Joker from DC comics, and many similar artworks.

With a grunt, I drag myself out of the dumpster and check myself for my valuables, patting my pants, I notice that my back is covered in trash stains that thankfully more or less blend in with the dark clothes.

Breathing out a sigh as I find all that I was looking for in my pockets, my phone, wallet and keys.

Checking the phone, I see that neither of my cards have any signal which is hella' weird, both of the cards should have covered the signal for the whole country and unless both services went out at the same time or I'm in a different country then I still should have signal.

"kyahahaha! Look at him! C'mon hold the camera straight!"

"mhm! Hmhmhhhuuh! Humh!-"

"hey dude, do you think we can make boss laugh with this video? What would be the best way we can make him laugh?"

Ignoring my mental dilemma for a moment, I focus to where the voices are coming from, slowly walking around the maze that is this alley, the voices get louder and louder until they are right around the corner.

I can hear them even clearer, the sounds of traffic getting quieter, meaning I had walked deeper into the concreate maze.

Leaning on the wall, I take a peak around the corner and spot two thugs dressed like 80s rockband with heavy purple theme and crappy dollar store clown masks on their faces.

They were pointing a camera at what looked like a brown cloth bag from a distance but, the cloth was making muffled noises, meaning it was a man cowering on the ground.

"C'mon babe, you should skin his hands! It would look awesome and maybe boss can get someone to make us gloves from skin?!"

'what in the ever loving f*ck…'

"yeh! I have the special tool right here! Hup-" The one on the right pulled out a rusty crescent wrench with its handle sharpened like a knife "- keep the camera on him babe! Im beginning the incision! Kyahahah!"

'yeah, this can't go on any longer.' I start to look around nearby for any item that can be used as a weapon, but I only spot paper cups, cardboard and old newspapers 'crap'

It seems, I'll have to go barehanded. Hyping myself up, I release the wall I had been leaning on and slowly approach the joker wannabe thug with the camera.

Taking a deep breath, I launch a heavy right hook at the cameraman's nape, causing him to drop like a ragdoll, letting go of the camera, which on a closer inspection, looks like an old handheld windup camera.

Rushing forward, I grab the camera and swing it at the second thug that seemed to have been alarmed by the noise.

The swing seems to be perfectly placed, the camera would smash straight into his jaw, but it wasn't meant to be.

The thug covers his face with the wrench, causing the fragile camera to impact the metal tool and crumble to pieces. Thankfully the thug managed to cut himself with the sharpened edge of the wrench when it impacted the camera-

"GAAAH! I'll cut you up AND WEAR YOUR INTESTINES LIKE A SCARF!" sadly it seemed to only anger him, causing him to rush at me with the wrench blade…

now I've gotta be honest with you, I may know how to punch, but I've never been in a fight… before today I have only seriously punched a punching bag at the gym and even that was at least two years ago. And now the first time I punched someone, they were a static target with their backs turned to me… now, now I think I might just die...

realizing my mistake, I frantically backpedal, managing to dodge out of the way from 3 swings-

"Stop moving you f*ck! Let me GUT YOU!" and the thug seemed to only get angrier with every failed swing, making his swings faster and faster.

The continued dodges had given me a bit of a confidence boost, letting me put my arm up in a sloppy boxing stance… until in my backpedaling, I failed to notice the knocked out thug, which even in unconsciousness managed to help his ally by making me trip and fall.

landing roughly on my ass, all my gathered confidence disappeared, with frightened eyes I try to look for anything, anyone who can help me, but I only spot the man the two were torturing, he was bleeding from his forehead and for all I knew, possibly dead or dying.

seeing my downfall, literary, the thug laughed and lunged at me, blade pointed straight at my widened eye.

"kyahahahaha! DIE f*ckboy! Haah!" the thug dived right at me and all I could do was cover my head with my arms awaiting the stabbing (pun absolutely intended) pain to erupt when I heard a heavy CRACK like that of boulders breaking.

Willing my eyes to open, I look through my squinting eyes to see the thug fly through the alley, leaving a trail of blood, coming from his crumpled nose, behind.

pat

startled out of my amazed stupor, looking down towards the noise I see a crushed clown mask that fell hit my leg, which is weirdly tinted golden yellow… and the ground in front of me is also tinted yellow, as if obscured by yellow glass.

looking back up, I spot the source of the yellow tint… it's an arm, a bright golden arm with sharp platinum highlights, pointy heart shaped green knuckles, and Its coming out of my torso.

"what the-" the arm slowly returns into my chest

"guh-cough-f*uck" the crumpled form of the thug slowly convulses and starts standing up, one of his hands reaching into his jacket "f*ck, yo-you are d-dead, fukin' pi-cough-piece of sh*t"

seeing this, I quickly start to stand, intending to rush the thug, why you might ask? Because 'if that was what I think IT WAS, then this exchange is already over.'

Rushing at the thug, he speeds up his search for the supposed gun in his pockets. As I get closer, he suddenly jerks and laughs-

"DIE!" he swings his arm towards me, the weapon revealed to be some type of snub nosed revolver.

'oh f*ck-'"the worl-"

BAN-BWUWUWUUUUUUUUUUUUM-UUUWOW0M-NG!

"what?""what?!" me and the thug seem to be on the same wavelength, but my tone seems to be more confused that his confused and distressed one, as to him I appear a few steps ahead of where he previously saw me.

Whilst he was distressed at his target seemingly teleporting, I was confused about multiple things

One, Why did the time stop last less than a second?

Two, why did my STAND'S arm have sparks and smoke trailing across the back of it from all the way from in front of chest to above my left hip…

And finally,

Three, why does my half of my abdomen BURN?

"gah! m-Muda!" in my pain I have reached my opponent and tried to enact justice by punchy ghost hand

"muda?! Wha' the hell d-do ya wan' with my moder!? F*ck you!"

"no F*CK YOU!" as the two opponents clash, the arm rushes out of my torso at blinding speeds and riddles the thugs face and body with countless punches, not giving him the chance to shoot again.

with its job done, the arm recedes back into my body and I'm left in the alley, clutching my abdomen as blood slowly trickles through my fingers, drop by drop.

"cough-ah-cough" the cough brings me back to the present, away from my draining life force, back to the two other bodies in the alley. At first I turn to the other thug, thinking that he has awoken (-my masters! Ay ay ay ayyy!), but I worried for naught, the one making the noises was the middle aged man who the thugs beat up and were planning on torturing for the entertainment of their presumed gang's boss.

I quickly, or as quickly as I can without pouring all my remaining life force down the drain, walk up to the man and help him sit up.

getting a closer look at his face, I had to hold back a full body flinch, He looked almost as messed up as the thug I beat up.

"cough- th-thank yo-cough-" to be polite the man looks like utter shit, and he might be kicking it any minute now "shit", I start to grab my phone out of my pocket until I remember that I have no signal 'damn it'

"-phone, hey man you got a phone? Mine doesn't work, and you, uh we, need an ambulance asap-" I barely finished talking when he weakly pointed at the unconscious thug's bodies and whimpered out "n-no hos-hospi-"

without waiting for him to finish, I barely hold myself from pouncing on the thug's bodies like a hungry tiger, and start looking through their clothes for a phone

My hands brush against something rectangular in the first thugs jacket and I instantly reach for it, taking out his wallet which was filled with 10$ bills… 'uuhh, I'm in a different country and possibly different world, my money means nothing here and even then I don't have more that 20$ (if exchanged)… I would need this more than them… right. Right?'

with great amounts of shame, I stuff the bills into my pocket and continue looking for the man's phone.

'damn it it's taking too long' I can hear the man weekly groan behind me and my own vision is getting blurry, either from the tears that are most likely gathering at the edges of my from the pain, the blood loss or both.

As my head begins to sway back and forth, my stand hand reaches out and phases through the thug's jacked, not even a millisecond later it returns, tearing cloth in its path with the phone trapped in its fingers.

I quickly pass the phone to the man and begin lift him up, using one hand to hold him up with his shoulder to help him walk whilst I continue to use my left hand to hold my own wound that seems to be getting more and more painful by the second.

I guide the man as quickly as I can through the alley, going towards the direction where the sound of cars is coming from.

Whilst I'm doing so, I can hear the man typing on the phone next to me, most likely not calling an ambulance.

All I can think of at the moment are the wishes I made during my birthday. One when I blew out the candles and the other when I spotted some shooting stars at night "*I wanna be better, but I keep wasting my time-*" "*-I want to go on an adventure, it can be crazy and bizarre, I don't care, I just want to be done with this monotony-*" …

"fuck"