I write both yandere and dark content (specifically about Jotaro Kujo from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure) that is for a mature audience and are NOT for anyone that is under 18 or those who are easily disturbed. Please read my content warnings before interacting with the works of my blog.
⚠ Do not interact if you are a minor or have no age in bio, that includes liking my posts! You will be blocked! ⚠
Everything in this blog is purely fictional and the contents are made for fun and enjoyment.
❤ Please take care for yourself first, your health matters. ❤
✀---------------------------------------------
Please do not repost my work without my permission.
...and remember, Jotaro Kujo loves you very very much. ❤
Tags and rules under the cut...
✀---------------------------------------------
Tag content:
#shadow's brew - art
#shadow's scribe - writing
#jentaro - self-shipping tag
#dark chocolate - dark/dead dove (PLEASE READ MY CONTENT WARNINGS)
#big lemon - 18+/nsft tag
#the other side - reblogs from my main
✀---------------------------------------------
Terms of Use
You are free to send non requests, I’m always open to any conversations such as headcanons, thirsts, confessions, or just a simple chat!
Yandere prompts can be found in my prompts tag. Please be specific on which one you would like to ask.
I cannot guarantee 100% that I’ll do every single request simultaneously, so please be patient!
I have the right to refuse any requests that I personally find discomforting.
Genderbent Jotaro who sits you on her wide lap and puts your pretty face in her chest. Your mouth wraps around one of her soft nipples and your hands knead the other.
Her hat rests on your head, slightly too big, but it looks so cute on you in her eyes. She runs her thick fingers down your back and over your soft stomach, all the while cooing sweet nothings into your ear.
Her hands wander farther down, rubbing small circles on your clit. Her fingers dip into your leaking core as she plants a soft kiss on the top of your head. Her fingers speed up, chasing your orgasm with lighting speed. Moans and whimpers escape your lips and fall onto her perfect breasts as your orgasm crashes over you.
"You thought we were done, baby? No, sweet thing, now you're going to show me how good you can make me feel."
Yandere!Merman didn't start off by pulling you under. Instead, he chose a slow, agonizingly patient courtship that took months to build. At first, he was just a mysterious silhouette swimming alongside your board out past the break. You’d catch flashes of shimmering teal scales under the water, or see a pale, webbed hand casually gripping the edge of your surfboard when you weren't looking. He wanted you to get used to his presence, turning himself into a regular part of your daily surf routine.
The gap finally closed when he realized you weren't afraid of him. he started popping his head completely out of the water right next to your board, his long, dark hair plastered to his face and his slitted, bioluminescent eyes blinking up at you. You’d just sit cross-legged on your surfboard, drifting on the gentle swells, completely mesmerized as this beautiful, dangerous creature rested his chin on the nose of your board like a curious seal, clicking and purring softly whenever you spoke to them.
Yandere!Merman became completely obsessed with "providing" for you, though his understanding of human logic was incredibly warped. he noticed that you spent hours out on the water without eating, so he decided it was his job to feed you. he would disappear beneath the waves with a powerful flick of his tail, leaving you waiting on your board, only to burst through the surface a few minutes later holding a completely raw, wriggling deep-sea fish in his claws, proudly offering it to you with a wide, fanged grin.
When you laughed and shook your head, trying to explain through gestures that you couldn't eat raw, moving fish, he didn't get discouraged. he just swam closer, floating on his back right next to your board, and began meticulously cleaning the fish with his sharp claws, trying to hand-feed you the raw pieces himself. He would pout, letting out a low, disappointed click from his throat whenever you gently pushed his hand away, utterly confused as to why his favorite human was refusing his hard-earned hunting trophies.
Yandere!Merman gift-giving got a lot more creative when he started raiding sunken trade ships and coastal orchards that dipped over the cliffs. One afternoon, he swam up to your board with his webbed hands overflowing with weirdly preserved, salty pears that had fallen into a nearby cove. He pushed them onto your lap, watching with absolute, unblinking intensity as you took a bite of one. The second he saw your jaw move and realized you were actually eating his gift, his gills flared with excitement, and he let out a loud, euphoric trill that vibrated right through the fiberglass of your board.
You became entirely addicted to this secret routine. You started spending less time actually catching waves and more time just sitting out past the breaker, staring down into the clear blue water, waiting for his shadow to appear. And he loved every second of it. He loved watching you watch him. Every time he dove back down into the reef, he would purposefully swim in elegant, showy loops right beneath your board, flaunting his massive, powerful tail just to keep your eyes locked entirely on him.
Yandere!Merman weaponized this sweet, domestic routine to slowly erode your attachment to the land. While you thought you were just making a unique marine friend, he was tracking your schedule, learning your scent, and making you entirely dependent on his daily visits for excitement. He’s currently letting you stay on top of your board, completely satisfied with hand-feeding you fruits and preening under your attention. Still, his possessive instinct is just waiting for the perfect, stormy day to permanently bring his favorite surfer down into his world for good.
Do you prefer yandere bully jotaro or mean yandere jotaro?
Anon, you got me thinking for over a week straight to think about this question but if I had to pick just ONE, i'd pick the bully one.
It's the degrading kink I enjoy but at the end of the day, they're both mean. It won't be a good idea to write down the degrading kink because I just suck at writing it and even if I did, the execution would be poor and also I am a perfectionist so- 😔
content warnings: reader is gender neutral, yandere, obsessive behavior.
✀---------------------------------------------
This place feels cold.
Not because that it was raining heavily outside of the art museum, nor is it the way the cool air from the industrial vents brush through your thin layered clothes and chilling your skin. It's cold as in, nobody in the museum is present; the only people with you are only staff members, a security guard standing in the main entrance, a few attendants, and a curator that's installing a recently submitted piece.
It's a bad time to stay in a place like this but you refuse to surround yourself in the closed walls of your own apartment again. Anything that would get you out of the house is perfect, rain, shine, or snow. Even if you weren't made to communicate to people, it was at least nice to travel around new places that you never went to. Human beings are not made to be alone for long periods of time, after all.
You walk past the curator, lifting your feet from any business that could possibly interfere with the installation and move to the more secluded area of the gallery. They're not a bother but you wanted to be alone for the time being until your body hungers for food.
The area in the back of the museum showed rather classical paintings on the left wing and looked to the right side that only lit some areas of the building with some lifespan left within the light-bulbs. Near the end of the corner stood an illustrated piece that caught the corner of your eye but something about it gives you goosebumps. It looked unique compared to the other pieces in the gallery.
The painting depicted a man, no younger than his late twenties but still youthful as his hands are wrapped around his arms, as if he's holding or hugging himself. The only issue is that there's no one in the illustration that's with him. He's all lonesome, yearning for a partner that would never fall into his arms. His face is halved like a Picasso painting, eyes closed with tears flowing over his face like a waterfall as if he's crying over the feeling of loneliness.
Beneath the illustration shows a description, simply titled "Lover" created by an unknown artist, dated somewhere in the late 1990s. Outside of those three things, the description wasn't given any more information that could let you dive more than what's already shown to you.
From the looks of the painting before you, he seems welcoming...but still uneasy at the same time.
Eventually, the uneasy feeling would soon melt away. It seemed a bit inviting to have someone wrap around your arms like some kind of loving partner. On the other half of the coin, it felt dangerous like he's going to sweep you off your feet without a trace.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath as the rumbling thunder and lightening roll close, you start to sink your head deep into the beauty of the man inside the painting, understanding his desire to reach out to someone.
And yet, the painting was called "Lover".
until finally...
The lights turn off.
One of the attendees panic at the darkness in the building, with no backup generator to provide help. The industrial hum of the air conditioner has stopped entirely, leaving the air at a complete standstill as the storm roars near the main entrance.
Immediately, the staff scramble to find any flashlights or any source of light using only their phone screens, leaving only you in the darkest corner of the museum and the piece in front of your eyes.
Once you dig out your phone screen as a source of light, you turn the brightness at its maximum and turn over to the hallway and the other pieces. For a brief moment, you could've swore one of them was a blank slate but you were too busy to notice.
Turning your phone over to face the wall to discover that the man in the illustration was gone. All that's left behind was just the blank white canvas and its display.
You furrow your eyebrows at it, assuming the change was some kind of prank or a switch up. The moment you had before is gone and it's time to leave.
Something brush down your back, causing you to turn your light over to whoever is right from behind. The sense of air breeze but it wasn't coming from the industrial funnels from the ceiling.
Still shining your flashlight on your bag, your mind didn't notice a pair of feet standing behind your bag.
What?
Turning your light over to the person who dropped your bag, your eyes scan over to see their stature, broad shoulders. They don't seem to be the type of person to be talkative at all. All this person is doing is looking down at you...looming over like some kind of streetlight or cloud over your head.
"Stay here with me." Their voice was masculine, deep but something about it feels rather comforting despite the eerie nature. "It's best if we stay together."
We? Turning the angle of your flashlight reveals the person to be a man, his eyes are blue like you're staring far into the ocean through a tiny window but it wasn't deeper compared to his face.
From the way he approached you in a yearning manner, it was possible that he is the man you saw in the painting.
The muse that you had swooned not too long ago.
All of this feels like some kind of dream but it felt too real. He leans close to your body, moving towards the nearby wall; a few feet away from where you once stood.
"Uh...? Hey, are you doing okay? Is there something you need?" You tilt your head over to face him, not caring about the danger of what this person could do if he draws too close to you.
He nods his head and leans his body close so that it is hard to process what to do? He couldn't even be the man inside the painting, maybe he's just an artist that the museum hired.
The man continues to squeeze your body against the corner of the area, trapping you with his own broad shouldered body as the curators scramble to fix the electricity in the building.
"This thing is hurting my eyes." The man roll his eyes in dismay. His ink covered hand touch the edge of your phone, with the screen brightness still shining over your body before turning it off by pressing the power button.
As the curator walks past the two in seeking the breaker in the back, the man stares at you, having a silent yet caring type of personality. Once the coast was clear, his hand cover yours, feeling the warm sensation of human skin for the first time in his artificial life.
Thanks to the storm outside, the temperature on your skin that was once cold by the air conditioning system had faded away, only to heat up by the comfort of the material of your clothes. How he wished he could have kept this sensation forever, away from the chilling air in the building day in and day out.
Your touch was enough for him to take you away from this cold, harsh world.
He finally breaks the silence and brushes his thumb over your palm.
"Do...do you have a feeling of escapism?" When he spoke, you turn over to his direction, questioning if you had the desire of escaping the sense of loneliness or any feeling that is deemed negative.
"As in...running away? Stop being depressed?" You respond, tucking your phone back into your pocket, peeking over his silhouette in case anyone is still looking for her.
"Things such as, the need to get out of your home and run away, stepping into the world where nothing hurts you. " He continues, turning his eyes over to yours, refusing to let you out of that corner of the exhibit.
You take a moment to think about the current state of your life. Ever since you moved in by yourself, it felt like you were independent at first like any other person would; of course, those feelings vary but yours feel like freedom turned to isolation. You went to the art museum because you wanted to get away from the empty apartment.
In your eyes, humans cannot live on loneliness. Nothing can not
Families, friends, lovers, they cannot live without any communication or a network of people you care for and love in return. No matter how stubborn you may be some days, any form of contact, physical or otherwise, is all you need. The warm feeling is what you need to survive, just like daily necessities like shelter, food, and water.
Maybe he's right, you do have the feeling of escapism. A museum full of art has many forms of escapism, and out of all of the pieces on display, this man is your muse.
A beautiful, warm, and welcoming muse.
You break a sweat and answer. "I guess...I mean--I do but..."
"I see." His eyes soften in response and move back. The storm from outside has passed but the rain remains for a couple more minutes. His hand refuses to let go of yours and pulls you out of the corner, where his canvas has been blank for quite some time.
"Sometimes, it's hard to maintain daily life and daydream about being in another world." He continues, "I don't know what kind of life you have until this moment but I can tell you wanted to escape into another world."
With a simple tug on your hand, you finally notice that your hand was on his, unsure how long he was holding it for. When the coast is clear, he takes you to another exhibit that looks forbidden and unlit as if the area in the museum is restricted for a future date.
At first you were nervous at where he's taking you but didn't want to say no. When you stop moving your legs, he turns to you with an aloof yet curious look.
"Wait a second," you hold off for a second, asking him one more question. "I don't think you ever told me your name. Do you have one by any chance?"
At first he didn't want to share his name. When he was created, his creator only gave him one name, after a man he witnessed who was rumored to have traveled the Middle East a few years prior to visiting a small town.
As the pitch black void consumes your body and into the empty, restricted area of the museum, he give you a simple answer before being engulfed into darkness.
"My name? It's Jotaro."
---
The room brighten up with the sun shining down your body. Your skin is no longer cold from the rainy streets and air vents. Instead, it was replaced with the warm scent of sea salt in the air in front of you. Like the ocean scenery you see in movies
"This place feels amazing."
The corner of his lips curled up. "I'm glad you love this place. It's a beautiful scene for vacation and a way to escape from the urban setting, erasing the eyesore buildings that tower over your height every single day. It felt more than a simple daydream and your head above the clouds.
It's no longer the harsh reality you lived through day after day.
This is the true definition of escapism.
Throughout the entire day, you and Jotaro spent most of the time hanging out in the endless beach, mostly him exploring the sands and shore such as picking up shells and sea stars that peaked his interest. As for you, the shade was enough to take a breathe in the scenery from a distance, drawing whatever comes to mind. As your bag strap slips down to your upper arm, you sit down on one of the empty beach chairs and immediately got to work to create a piece in your sketchbook.
At the start, you sketched a few thumbnails of the environment, just a few scribbles but couldn't be able to capture the atmosphere without messing up. You had a sketchpad and some colors that could capture the soft and cool hues of the sea with hints of warm colors to balance it out.
During the sketching process, you look up to see Jotaro picking up another seashell in front of you. He wasn't a bother but the way he was walking close to the outer banks gave you an idea. Maybe add him to the drawing, you thought to yourself as he gets up from finding a sea star.
You took your time drawing the scene, keeping the way he was walking in mind throughout your time at the beach while the sun is still high in the clouds. It was very quick to indulge into your art piece until it was finally complete.
Once the sun begins to set, you put the final touches of the drawing and lowers your arm from the sketchbook to gaze at the final piece. Your smile was enough to capture Jotaro's vision as he returns to his shore exploring.
"What are you smiling for?" Jotaro smiles back in return as the bucket he carried fell onto the sand, leaving one of his hands behind his back.
His voice was enough to perk your head back from your sketchbook, leaving a . "It's just that...this place was gorgeous that I wanted to draw something. Not sure if you enjoy this but..." You trail your words off to flip your sketchbook over for him to view the piece himself.
The piece was a landscape view of the outer banks, showing Jotaro staring into the sea as he is walking across the sand, with hues of soft blue, yellow, and pinks; purple shadows that balance the bright sand to create something more vibrant without pure saturation.
He was amused-- no, he was adored by this masterpiece.
"So, did you like it?" You trail your eyes back to him, his eyes covered by the beak of his hat so you couldn't see how he felt on the outside. "It's not great but--"
"I love it. You made it beautiful." He cuts you off before you doubted. This quick comment compliment left a smile on your face, leading the both of you experience the clear, empty beach.
As he holds your hand, his grip was a bit tight but it wasn't a bother. Perhaps it was the first human being that he had met so it would make sense if he didn't want to let anyone go out in a place that could get anyone lost, especially in a world full of murals.
In the back of his mind however, there was another way to keep someone close to him. You were perfect, not caring at what the thought of the flaws; what matters is the loving and caring nature you give, even if you don't show it.
Thus, Jotaro pulls you further away from the door to the real world. Further and further away until that speck that was the door to the art museum is anything but thin air. The lonely lover now became whole, becoming a single pair of Lovers that would never tear them apart. If you don't question what's going on in the real world, then everything will be alright.
At least that's what he wants you to believe.
----
Days would pass and a lonely artist walk inside the cold industrial art museum, away from the opening of a new exhibit. Before they could even walk inside the newly opened area, they stumble upon a painting in front of it.
The painting now added an extra letter, showing the same man standing in front of the ocean waves crash in front of him. Only this time, he's no longer hugging himself and is accompanied by his assumed lover in front of him.
This painting is now known as "Lovers", having nobody but each other and the sea.
For them, all they could do was to simply hold on to dear life as the ocean consumes their bodies until they wash onto an isolated shore, away from anyone that could reach them.
As for the person in front of the man, the smile of theirs look different. All they could think about as to what was the artist thinking of when they made this painting.
At the end of the day, the man in the picture is just a muse. A well, beloved one at that.
