hershey

GING FREECSS

do i even need to say anything? ging is a prick who's allergic to speaking his mind. you need to actually work to figure out what he's thinking at any particular moment. not only is he spontaneous and unpredictable, he's also emotionally dense. he actually can't tell why you're so mad that he kidnapped you. it's not that big of a deal, he's taking you on an adventure of a lifetime! also, he totally expects you to be all lovey-dovey with him while putting no effort in. you better kiss up to him constantly, but if you ask for a hug, he gets annoyed.

DIO

again, do i even need to say anything? dio's personality naturally lends itself to being an annoying shit. he's impulsive, manipulative, abusive, dominant, a freaky motherfucker and immune to self-awareness. there are three people in a relationship with dio; you, him and his ego. be warned.

AVENTURINE

"hershey," you might say, "isn't aventurine an angel compared to the first two?" yes, he is, but that doesn't diminish his own irritating personality. aven, in my mind, is a whirlwind to be with in a regular relationship, let alone as a yandere! he can be cold and regretful one minute, locking himself up in a room because he feels as though he doesn't deserve you. the next? he clings on to you like a leech, trying his best to pick and prod at you for whatever reason possessed him at that moment. you'd need to be a saint to not crack at some stage, your mental health worn down by his own crippling lack of emotional regulation.

GOJO

oh, satoru gojo. a manchild by any definition of the word. truly the kind of person that people warn each other about in gcs. no matter what era he snags you; from his years at jujutsu tech to his present, slightly more mature role as a teacher, you'd have to turn into his mother AND his "lover" for the sake of your own survival. he, too, clings like a leech, but unlike aven, its 24/7. he wants to monopolise all your time, be number one in your heart-- and if anything comes in the way of that, its gone! he also has no clue how to take care of himself, let alone you. yes, he could hire maids, but especially as he grows older, his ego wouldn't allow him to. thus, you'd have to keep your ear out for when he decides to cook a "romantic breakfast," because usually that means you'd have to call the fire brigade.

KAIBA

like with DIO, being kaiba's darling has three people; you, him and his ego. he feels as though he knows best at every opportunity. and when i say every, i mean every. wanna pick out your clothes? sorry, kaiba thinks this looks better than whatever cheap polyester you picked out. makeup? kaiba already picked out the latest and best makeup, straight from the lab. food? actually, this salad is way healthier than that burger you wanted, and he can't have his spouse eating slop. what would that make people think? it is truly horrific, especially if you, i dunno, want to eat something other than porridge every morning.

Jotaro knew your marriage was over when you hung up on him.

To be clear; he loves you. You might’ve said he didn’t, crying over the phone that you were “nothing to him,” but that’s not the truth.

Of course he loves you, how couldn’t he love you? You were perfect in all the ways he wasn’t, so sure of yourself and confident and charismatic.

He bit his lip, not knowing what to say. That was the thing. You never felt the need to pretend, not like he did. 

(He never, never liked staring at the mirror and seeing someone small. Pathetic. Useless).

That’s why he made his mother cry and made his father shake his head. Because if he was tough and strong, had all of this armor over him and the smell of nicotine imprinted on his gakuran, then he’d be fine. Of course he’d be fine. Nobody would know who he was underneath that armor, the snivelling little boy who got picked on for his blue eyes and American mom. The snivelling little boy that smelled of lavender soap and tears.

You were bright. That was the first thing he noticed when he saw you, laughing away in the dining hall next to his roommate.

You didn’t have armor, didn’t need armor. You said what you thought, never minced your words, never let him get away with anything. He was a man trapped in the desert, and everything you said was a drop of water to his tongue.

Everyone always crowded around your light. He hated it. Wanted to monopolise it all for himself, keep it in the palm of his hand like the fireflies he used to collect with his father. He remembers how they struggled, trapped in the jar. Begging for air, begging to breathe, until they dimmed out and crashed to the floor of the jar, landing on cold hard glass. 

He couldn’t keep your light to himself, could he? He had to share it. But that didn’t help the aching, pulsing tear in his heart.

You turned to him that day at the dining hall. “You must be Jotaro, right?”

He nodded, looking away. His chest throbbed. It must’ve been heartburn, he thought.

When he brought you home, Sadao had immediately taken to you. He was a respectable man with a normal family, always confused and frightened by his son. He didn’t understand why Jotaro was the way he was. But there was you, and his son loved you, and you were everything. So maybe there was hope for the delinquent boy with a criminal record and a chip on his shoulder. 

It was mesmerising, the way you could just enchant people. He just couldn’t say it. The words were trapped in his throat. Nobody told him what you were supposed to say when you wanted to tell someone how beautiful they were, how much better they made your life, how their smile lighted up the darkest parts of your soul. What were you supposed to say? 

So he never said it. Just stared at you, at the contours of your cheeks and the electricity in your eyes. 

He was scared. Would the two of you end up like his own parents’ marriage, or like Joseph or Suzy? Having you resent him, hate him, only staying with him because you had to would kill him. 

So he kept you at arm’s length distance, pretended he didn’t care when you learnt about Japanese food to satisfy his cravings or watched old Attenborough documentaries to talk to him about it. If he didn’t give you anything at all, there was nothing for you to be mad about. 

What he didn’t understand about the whole equation was that you still did all those things anyway, knowing he wouldn’t show any care. Knowing he wouldn’t say I love you or compliment you. He’d just..be there. Eat the food and say nothing.

“I like doing things for you.” You’d explained over beer one night. “It’s sappy, but I like it when you’re happy.”

He couldn’t find a reason why you’d stay, and paranoia was beginning to get to him. Every time he roamed the supermarket with you or picked you up from work, the idea of you leaving him waiting crossed his mind. Packing your bags with tear-stained cheeks like his father all those years ago. Maybe you’d come back, but it wouldn’t be the same. There’d be a wall; an unbreakable, unshakeable wall. So Jotaro married you. He needed to; a ring was the only way to keep you by his side. How else would he keep you? Why else would you stay? Inevitably you’d get sick of him and leave, so there needed to be something tethering the two of you together.

He was an addict and you were his drug, and he’d do anything to keep getting more of you. And when you left him, he’ll admit it, he lost it.

That’s why he was currently beating the shit out of your date behind some French restaurant in Manhattan. 

Jotaro was in Morioh when you called. The hotel room by the sea reminded him of you, and he was wondering how you were.

He answered the phone. Excited, but he couldn’t show it. 

He had to stay calm. Stoic. Can’t show it or you’d figure out, eventually, that he wasn’t the man you thought he was.

You started talking. Scared, frightened, confused.

“Jotaro, Jolyne’s temperature is sky high and I can’t look after her, I have work, the doctor’s out and the emergency room is an hour away, what do I do–”“Just give her some Tylenol.” 

“Don’t you think I’ve already done that? Jesus Christ, can’t you just help me out for once, please? You’re always away and I need you! Your mom won’t pick up and I’m scared, Jotaro. Please.”

“She’ll get better. Don’t panic, or you’ll just make things worse.”

“She’s at 104 right now.”“She probably just has a bug. Kids get all sorts of sicknesses from school.”

“You know what, whatever. Fuck.”

You hung up. 

At first, he was just annoyed. You were getting upset over nothing, as per usual. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t worried for Jolyne too, but it was just a fever. Nothing serious.

If anything, he was more worried about you, with all that stress in your voice. He had told you to quit your job a while back, but you hadn’t listened. Some bullshit about financial independence or whatever.

And then you hadn’t called for the whole week. And the week after that. And the week after that. Annoyance turned into panic. Had he upset you? He hated fighting with you because of that; the silent treatment, not knowing what happened to you. You never explained anything. Why couldn’t you just say how you felt? It’s not like he could read your mind.

Anyways, he still followed you like a shadow even if you were upset, so things would resolve really quickly because of that. If he just stuck to you like glue, you’d get over it. Forget it. 

That’s the assumption he ran on to comfort himself. Forgive and forget.

But after that, you didn’t call him a single time during his stay in Morioh. That was the moment he realised things might be over. 

Eventually, when he finally came home, divorce papers and an empty house were what awaited him.

After he read through the papers, Jotaro went to the pantry, grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and poured himself a glass. 

The alcohol burned his throat and helped him keep his sanity as he stared at your wedding photos, which were placed neatly on the hallway table near the front door.

Beachfront wedding, small ceremony. You were three months along with Jolyne and had that pregnancy glow. He remembers tracing his thumb down your jaw, moving it up to your lips right as the priest (Suzy’s insistence) said that he could kiss you. Immediately he had captured your lips. Your hands were in his hair and for once in his goddamn life he was happy. 

Happy that you loved him. Happy that you were beside him. Happy that the sun’s glow had grazed his skin for the first time.

Right now, he was shivering. He was cold. It was night in Brooklyn and he remembered the warmth of your hand over his.

But his throat was burning and it was the dead of night, and he was just so, so tired. 

Another sip.

He was on call with Jolyne when she mentioned that you were going to go on a date. “It’s to this fancy restaurant with this guy called Mike, while I’m at Scarlett’s for a sleepover!”

You had never mentioned Mike. It’s not like you were obligated to mention your dates to him. You weren’t obligated to do anything.

But you were his (ex) spouse, and what man would want his spouse to go on a date with another man?

His mind started running with possibilities. What were Mike’s intentions? What did he want to do with you? Was he going to touch you? He couldn’t love you. Not like Jotaro did, and still does. “Dad? Are you there?”

“Yes, Jolyne, I am.”

Jolyne continued rattling on, but Jotaro’s thoughts were just filled with Mike. Who the fuck did Mike think he was, going on a date with you? Did Mike think he deserved you? No one did. No fucker on this planet could even compare to you. His hand had balled into a fist. He’d have to teach this motherfucker that lesson– the hard way.

So here he was, beating the living hell out of the guy. 

His blood stained Jotaro’s knuckles, a tooth had landed on the ground and he honestly didn’t know if Mike was conscious or not. It had been a while.

When he had thrown the first hit, the guy had let out a shriek like a bitch in heat. “What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole?”

He could say the same, but he let his fists do the talking. Another punch. The feeling of smashing Mike’s face off is satisfying. It reminds him of being a teenager, of beating up  whoever pissed him off and making sure they couldn’t piss him off again.

Mike’s eyes were closed. Yeah, he was out cold. Jotaro lets him fall to the ground and takes a step back.

cruelty -> how would they treat their darling once abducted? would they mock them?

features holly, jotaro and introducing sadao!

Rohan first heard of you at a bookshop. 

Two teenagers (siblings, he assumed) were at a shelf with a bunch of tankōbon volumes. 

The two were in a voracious debate, and Rohan couldn’t help but overhear when they mentioned him.

“Come on!” The younger one whined. “I don’t want this stupid girly manga! I want Pink Dark Boy!”

“Shut up!” the older one replied. “It’s my money and we’re getting Happy Happy Jump!”

“Oh, come on! What’s so good about it anyway? You’ve already collected all the issues from Margaret! This is the latest tankōbon of Pink Dark Boy, and it has character data and extras!”

“Well,” the older one beamed with a smug smirk that made Rohan seethe.

“It’s mature. It’s about the real experiences of a real person. It’s introspective. It’s literary. It’s art. It isn’t some fantasy garbage. You know it’s won an Araki Prize, right?”

“So has Pink Dark Boy! And if you don’t buy it for me, I’ll tell Mom about your boyfriend,” the younger one threatened. The older one bristled before sighing and picking up the Pink Dark Boy tankōbon.

Rohan went home that day in a truly awful mood.

That girl dared to insult him, the great mangaka Rohan Kishibe, and call his work ‘fantasy garbage.’

Fantasy garbage! He put his soul in Pink Dark Boy. It had a loyal base of readers for a reason. It was art. True, visionary art!

When he reached home, he was fuming. How could that insolent girl insult him? If she just picked up a volume of his work and read it, she’d see that it was clearly superior to whatever garbage you put out.

He was still angry as he began to sketch. He just couldn’t let it go.

What was so great about your work that it outweighed his in that girl’s mind? What about your work was so interesting, so visionary, that it was better than his? It couldn’t be. It truly could not be.

He mulled over it. All through the week, he can’t stop thinking about it. How could someone choose you over him? 

That Sunday evening, he bought a volume of your manga.

At first, he flips through to find some flaws. There must be, right? Something that could prove that he was the superior mangaka.

He couldn’t find a single one. 

He goes through your manga again and again and again.

And the only thing he could think was just how interesting the story was, how pretty your art was, and how well-written each chapter was.

Not to mention your author’s notes and extras, which were surprisingly charming. 

He returns to the bookshop and buys volume two. And three. And four. And the latest edition of Margaret Magazine.

He reads through each chapter voraciously, as if he’s in a trance. He admires each and every panel, every single detail. 

He tries to rationalise it; he’s just trying to find something that can prove that your manga is superior to his. But it’s when he goes to buy volume 5, he realises that he’s finally found a muse.

On Tuesday, he managed to get some information about you.

He hadn’t seen you at Shueisha’s annual end-of-year party. When he asked Izumi about you, she shrugged. You were distant with your editor and rarely attended events. 

‘Sort of like you, Rohan-sensei!’ Izumi added, and he didn’t know why that made his cheeks heat up.

Eventually, he managed to find some old interviews and a fansite with a biography. The internet, which he normally disdains, could be a useful resource

Your full name is [Name] [Surname]. You’re about a year his junior. You went to K High School and a foreign university, studying Literature at the behest of your family. After graduation, you moved back to Japan and published a couple of one-shots before your first serial. After that series ended, you began your current series to critical acclaim.

There was only one photo of you he could find. You were smiling at the camera in a bookstore, dressed nicely, the first tankōbon of your manga beside you.

He could imagine touching the contours of your face, the softness of your lips, the heat in the crook of your neck.

(Several sketches of you were strewn across his desk, along with pencils of the next Pink Dark Boy chapter).

However, the most important piece of information he could find for his purposes is this: you live in Morioh, same as him. 

So begins Rohan’s quest to find you. He roams the streets of Morioh for any glimpse of you. Anything, absolutely anything that could lead him to you.

He’s out of luck. You must be a recluse of some sort. None of the grocery stores, libraries, parks, gardens, temples, restaurants, and cafes had any sight of you. Not even a slight trace. He looked absolutely everywhere, even driving out to the edges bordering the next town over, just to make sure. From Wednesday to Friday, he continued this futile search.

Eventually, on Saturday morning, he overheard some liquid gold: a realtor mentioning your address to a prospective buyer.

That afternoon, he scouts out your house.

It’s small; what sort of successful author lives in such a humble home? His own was far more fit for someone of your ability and credibility, was it not?

But now wasn’t the time for judgment. He needed to observe.

He sketches the place out, maps out every little aspect. He even draws the garden. 

What about the home that attracted you to it? Was it the location? The isolation? The aesthetic? 

He wonders about the inside of your house. What sort of furniture do you prefer? Do you keep mementos? He could imagine photos of you with your family and whatever boring friends you had hanging on the walls. What sort of music did you listen to? Were your hangers wire or plastic? 

He itched to use Heaven’s Door and read through your mind, scour every inch of you. 

He goes home that night and inks Pink Dark Boy’s next chapter.

His thoughts never leave you. He wonders if you’re inking too, or if you’re still pencilling. Of course, you would be; there’s no way you could draw as fast as him.

He places his pen down and begins to rub his temples. Never once, since he began drawing, has his thoughts drifted to anything outside his art.

A new character debuts in that issue of Pink Dark Boy– a new love interest for the titular protagonist, who ran a bookshop across the street from his detective agency.

He sees you at a cafe on Sunday. 

You’re sitting in a corner, a sketchbook in front of you. You have a coffee and a strawberry shortcake beside you.

He decides to sit in front of you with his coffee and sketchbook.

He wasn’t planning on doing much. Just hoping you get distracted so he could use Heaven’s Door on you and—

“Sorry, but are you Kishibe-sensei? The author of Pink Dark Boy?”

Your voice is even more delectable than he predicted it to be. He could hear it over and over and over again and never get sick of it. It was addictive.

“Yes. And what of it?”

“Oh, nothing..it’s just..” You pause, biting your lip in this oh-so-cute manner. 

“I’m a fan. I’ve been reading your manga since publication. I really, really love it.” 

His heart skips a beat. To hear words of praise about him from you..

No. It’s what he deserved. Acknowledgment of his obvious superiority as a mangaka and an artist. This was utterly expected. 

“Is that so?”

You nod.

“It was reading your manga that convinced me to become a mangaka, Sensei! I’ve read every single part, watched the anime and the OVA..I even cosplayed Hot Summer Martha!”

Adorable. Utterly adorable. He wishes he could photograph this expression and keep it forever, where no one else could see it. Knowing he elicited these feelings in you, it was a feeling he could never describe with words alone.

However, he couldn’t help but fume at the idea of someone else seeing this smile of yours that he adores so much.

Things were going exactly how he wanted them to. And yet, he could’ve never predicted his sheer joy at your next words. 

“Could I please have your autograph?”

“Of course,” he beams, as you tear out a piece of paper from your sketchbook. 

When you reach for your pen, that’s when he activates Heaven’s Door. 

Your book unfurls, and almost immediately, Rohan’s reading through almost every detail.

Your parents are on the older side, and you’re worried you don’t have enough time with them. You hate living alone in an empty house, so you purposely bought a smaller house hoping you’d feel less alone. You maintain a flower garden and a bonsai to deal with loneliness. You’re considering switching from a weekly format to a monthly format to make more detailed art, but you can’t imagine life without the busyness of a weekly schedule.

He eats up every single detail: childhood pets, high school bullies, celebrity crushes, everything. 

That’s when he reaches the section on him. Rohan Kishibe. 

You’ve admired him since Pink Dark Boy’s publication. You wish you could be as dedicated as he is. You love his art style and wish to emulate it, but aren’t sure where to begin. You wonder how he manages to capture every single expression and feeling on Pink Dark Boy’s face as if he’s a real person.

Now that you’ve seen him in real life, you’re absolutely delighted. You think he’s handsome. You wonder if he recognises you, but you think he wouldn’t. 

Oh, how little you know. This is why you need him. 

You wanted to emulate his art style? You would. He’d make sure to discipline your art, to make sure your potential would be met. You wouldn’t feel lonely anymore, living with someone as great as him. He wouldn’t mind having some flowers and bonsai in his house, anyway. They’d make good references.

The anticipation of the future he’d create shoots adrenaline through him. It was the sort of rush he got after finishing an arc or planning a new one.

You were special. You were meant for him. He’d make sure of it.

He grabs your pen.

In big, black kanji, he writes—

“In love with Rohan Kishibe. Would never dare to look at someone else. Does not remember Heaven’s Door being used on them.”

He places the pen down and unfurls the book. Your face returns. You rub your eyes, a flicker of confusion coursing through you before a slight blush appears on your face.

You hand him your pen.

He smiles before signing your autograph and adding his phone number beneath it.

With this signature, he's sealed your fate as his muse.

o: oppression -> how many rights would they take away from their darling?

BRUNO has no issue restricting you for your own safety. It's more a question of what he allows rather than what he doesn't. He can be incredibly patronising, tutting as he snatches a pair of scissors from your hands because you could cut yourself with them. He just wants you to be safe and protected, don't you understand? No matter the fact that you're a grown adult who can probably use an electrical outlet by yourself. He's still going to babyproof it either way.

LEONE is on the other end of the spectrum. You're an adult, he's an adult. He's not really going to police what you do, other than a few basic house rules, such as not escaping and not leaving without his permission etc. This is partly because he does in fact respect you, contrary to popular belief, but its also because his moral compass won't really allow him to control you. Deep down, he does feel guilty for his actions, and feels as though the small freedoms he allows you compensates for the torture he's putting you through.

t: tears -> how do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

BRUNO would feel bad, but try to rationalise it to himself. He treats you like a child throwing a tantrum, cooing and running his hands through your hair. You're just not adjusted to your circumstances, you'll get over it! Just some cabin fever, that's all. After you realise that this is your home, it'll all be fine! He would be the absolute worst to deal with when you're upset, because he simply refuses to see anything that doesn't fit his idea of you.

LEONE will be furious and deeply depressed at the same time. On the one hand, why do you have to make things worse for yourself? He's taking care of you. Can't you see that? If you keep on whining, he will get annoyed and tell you to shut up. Maybe threaten you and push you around a bit. However, on the other hand, he does blame himself for your outbursts. He's the one trapping you here, after all. He isn't dumb. He knows people don't exactly appreciate being kidnapped and trapped in another person's home. But he tries not to dwell on those feelings too mch, for his sake and yours.

z: zenith -> would they ever break their darling?

BRUNO would definitely aim to break you, although he doesn't see it that way. He sees it as you 'embracing your circumstances.' He's a simple guy with simple wants. Clean streets to patrol, a spouse to come home to and a hot dinner to enjoy. As stated above, he definitely loves the idea of you more than the actual you. And if it means you fitting his ideal of a housespouse, he is more than willing to break you.

if LEONE broke you, he couldn't live with it. He just simply couldn't. Everything he loved about you is all gone, all because of him. The guilt would utterly consume him to the point of no return, and he wouldn't be able to live with it for too long.

Jotaro sees you as someone he needs to protect first and foremost. This man is so overprotective that it's actually ridiculous.

Going outside? He’s coming with you. Classes? Wow, you guys suddenly have the same schedule! Visiting family? All your relatives love him, even if he’s a bit quiet and brooding.

You are NEVER alone with this man– never ever. That's one trait he absolutely shares with Holly.

And when he’s with you, he’s oddly silent. Simply..observing, like a shadow. 

He doesn’t try to intrude or converse with you unless you start talking to him first. He’s content with being simply beside you– even if you don’t know it.

Which reminds me, he’s a stalker. For a 196cm hulking ton of muscle, he’s surprisingly sneaky if he needs to be. Not to mention Star Platinum, although he tries to keep Star to a minimum. 

Mostly because Star Platinum is incredibly lovey-dovey. Playing with your hair, invisible kisses and hugs, the whole shebang. 

And the stand is more than willing to kill any rivals for your affections, unlike Jotaro.

He'd never hurt you. Plain and simple. He's fine with threatening you, if he absolutely must without any other option, but even the thought of you in pain brings chills down his spine. He lives to be your protector, your guardian. Hurting you is betraying his goal.

Jotaro refuses to leave you for one reason: he's seen the absolute worst of the world. Beneath that stoic facade is someone who’s endured trauma beyond imagination. And even though he claims otherwise, it's definitely affected him.

He doesn’t care if you’re a capable or exceptionally strong stand user. He needs to be able to protect you at all times. He can’t lose you like he’s lost so many people he loved.

But there’s also a level of selfishness and hypocrisy to him. After all, he’s the one bringing danger to you. Stand users are attracted to stand users– and just by his presence, he’s probably putting you at immense risk.

He can’t leave you, though. He's aware it’s hypocritical, but he doesn’t care. 

And his protection, too, is hypocritical. 

He rationalises beating the shit out of that store assistant who helped you get something by saying that it's to protect you. But deep down, he knows that it isn't true. 

He rationalises isolating you by saying he isn’t really isolating you. You have his family, his friends, and him. What more do you need?

This is another facet of Jotaro: his delusions. 

Jotaro sees the world in black and white. There are good guys and bad guys. There are people out to get you, and you and him. There are his friends and his enemies. There’s no grey area, no wiggle room, no third option.

He can’t really see himself as a bad guy, even though he knows what he’s doing is wrong. He has to justify it. If he’s the bad guy, then…

So he continues on with his delusions unchallenged. Holly is his number one enabler, so he has no reason to believe otherwise.

On the topic of Holly, you get two yanderes for the price of one. Holly absolutely babies you to oblivion and treats you like a jewel. 

You’re the first person her son has genuinely connected with since he returned from Egypt. For so long, she thought he was gone, that a part of him had been shattered during those 50 days. But you’re here, and for the first time, she sees the light in his eyes shine like they used to when he was a child.

Somehow, she’s even more delusional than her son. Begging for help? She interprets it as you asking for love advice, and chuckles as she recounts how she met her husband. Crying after Jotaro left one of your friends in a coma? You’re obviously worried about his safety! You’d make such a great child-in-law, she just knows it!

The fact of the matter, in the end, is that your life would go into shambles the minute he develops an interest in you. You’d be alone, with him and his mother and what few friends he allows you to see. You can’t risk seeing anyone without his temper flaring. 

But please, he’s doing this for you. Just believe him, won't you?