Hello, Abberance here. I wanted to make this page dedicated to this specific character because I've been recieving quite a lot of stares when I mention this topic. I do get why really, that character wasn't created to be appreciated, but I still thought it would be a good idea to make this page, to explain why, how and when that "special interest" (no clue if we can consider that a special interest) appeared in my life. You should read the whole thing to fully understand why I've come to make this page. It's important to point out that I'm a grown man, I am aware of how much I'm sharing on this page and I choose what to share and what to keep private. Some parts will remain blurry and unspecified, mostly to hide the identity of my abusers. The first part will be a summary of my early life, and more specifically, the different kind of abuse that made me prone to grow attachement to monstrous characters. Be warned, this vent is quite heavy.

Who was I before

I did not grew up peacefully. I had to deal with undiagnosed AHDH, Autism, learning disabilities, and most importantly, abuse and neglet from my mother. Though my early life was pretty stable, at aroud 8 years old, I experimented neglect and abuse for the first time from the hands of my mother. I do aknowledge that she was suffering from abuse too, since my step-father was hitting, but it doesn't mean she was allowed to hurt us (me and my younger sister). My memories from that period were either my mother being hurt, us being afraid of my step father, being stuck at home since my neightbourhood was dangerous, and bullying from school.

Speaking of which, school wasn't any sort of escape from that pain and anguish. I was bullied by the other kids for "being weird" (aka showing signs of being neurodivergent and queer), teachers didn't bothered doing anything to help me, and when I confessed about the bullying, neither my parents nor the school staff did anything. I had to learn at a very young age that I just have to suck it up, since speaking don't do shit.

I moved cross country, and started middle school somewhere I would not meet my previous bully... and then found another bunch of assholes. Same reasons to be bullied over, but this time, something was slightly different. I remember being bullied pretty harshly one day, and when I broke down crying, one of my bullies told me to do a "disney smile", which he explains meant "smiling even if you're in pain". Basically, that guy told me that I have to pretend to be fine to not get in trouble or get rejected. It was 10 years ago, and yet still to this day, it still has its effect.

Was it better at home ? Nope. Now that my mother was far away from my home town, where my dad stayed after their divorce, she allowed herself to be abusive. It started small, like being called fat, stupid, lazy, and being shout at over the smallest thing, and it quickly degenerated into direct attacks. She shamed me for existing, for being "retarded", for being queer... Once, after telling her that I didn't wanted to have a large group of friends, she told me to (and I'm being 100% serious here) kill myself since I "didn't wanted to partake in society". It was mixed with a LOT of neglect : no healthy food, no hygiene control, no positive words, no kind touches, we were ghosts until my mother needed someone to shout at.

So as you can see, I was raised to become the perfect futur victim : someone desperate for the slightless bit of attention, latching on anyone kind, and would rather be hurt than be alone. It's in those conditions that I met three of the most destructive persons I ever met, which I'll give nicknames to hide their identity.

The first person "Hyena" was someone I met when I was 15, and them 18. The friendship started just fine but quickly turned sexual. Even though two teenagers having sexualy driven conversation isn't always toxic, in that specific case, it was. He used lots of love bombing between periods of silence, kept our relationship as vague as possible so that he could take advantage of me while not having the responsibilities of being my boyfriend, and would always escape the consequences of his mistreatement. Hyena was the least destructive one, since I also had a huge negative impact on him, we were toxic toward each other.

The second person "Jazz" was someone I met when I was 15, and him 20 to 23. Jazz was very heavily into BDSM and would not hesitate to talk about it with me in DMS. He would share intimate stories on his sexual encounters, different practices, and would push my boundaries when I was not only way too young for BDSM, but when I was in fucking school. He would send me pornographic BDSM images even if I told him I didn't wanted them. Even if it only lasted a year, he still groomed me enough to completly lower my boundaries I had before. And at age 17, I met the most destructive person I ever met.

The last person "Franky" was someone I met at age 17, when they were 22. Our friendship begun innocent, but when I confessed to them about the abuse I went through with my family, Hyena and Jazz, they begun to take a parental and caring role for me. But of course, that got fucking perverted. They told me to call them "daddy", to share explicit photos of my body even if I was growing too uncomfortable for that (in contrary to the other two predators), to even masturbate in video calls, no matter if I was 17, 19 or 21. This bound strenghtened for 5 years, in which they played with my insecurities, shamed me for discovering my asexuality, did lots of silence treatement over the slight disagreement, and would even rile up my friends against me. No matter what I fucking did, it wasn't good enough. If I speak freely, I was given the silence treatement, and if I shut up, they were yelling at me for not being honest. I was stuck between kicking them out of my life, and clinging unto them and the good memories.

When I kicked Franky out of my life at 21, I felt a deep, hollow feeling in my heart. I felt so alone, so empty, as if there were nothing in my life. All I wanted was someone I could rely to.

Dr. Dolcio Cioccolata

Cioccolata is a minor antagonist of the 5th part of Jojo's Bizzare Adventure. He's a psychopathic surgeon who enjoys observing others suffer and die, litteraly owns a human pet, and is considered so horrible that he's enrolled in last resort within Passione. This man has no redeemable qualities, he's nothing but a sadistic bastard who doesn't hesitate to mass murder the whole population of Rome to kill the Buccirati group. And I fucking love him.

You might be wondering now "Why did Abberance just gave us this whole ass trauma dumb just to talk about some fucking mad surgeon from a gay anime ?". To answer that question, you gotta remember that trauma respond can be weird and varried. Someone with similar traumas as me might not find Cioccolata appealing at all, and that's fine ! My trauma respond was to get completly obsessed with him.

When I was 17 and dealing with breaking up with Hyena, that's when I was watching the 5th part of Jojo. I was sad, depressed, unstable and in a desperate need for escapism. Being pitied didn't helped because I still felt like a freak for the way I acted, for all the intrusive thoughts and debased needs which were growing within me. So when I had a character who not only embrassed his own fucked-upness, but has a pet as fucked in the head as he was, oh man, did that spoke to me.

I did not wanted someone who wants to see me change into a clean version of myself, pity me for being in pain and having dark thoughts. I wanted someone who would embrace how I was, who would never stop me for being weird and fucked up, who would reward me in sweet treats and pets when I was making them happy and would never let go. Obviously, I projected hard on Secco, I wanted what he has.

I started to draw Cioccolata a lot, in my note books and on my graphic tablet. He became my hyperfixation for months, and to some extend, years. Everytime I felt bad, I would imagine him petting my head, calling me a good boy, and stuff like that. I think it was annoying the living shit out of my friends, but at least, it felt good. My mind wasn't on Hyena anymore, I felt safe exploring all that rage inside of me.

Slowly, my fixation on Cioccolata faded away until it became dormant. I still liked the character, but it didn't became part of my life as much as it used to... Until I broke things off with Franky. When Franky finally made me snap, my mind reverted back into that Secco-kin-esque mindset. Yet again, I was craving being petted, being called a good boy, being given all the attention I wanted without being treated like a poor innocent fragile baby, without being pitied. I felt that kind of void in my mind that needed to be filled with something grotesque. After all, a fictional monster will never hurt as much as an actual predator who ruined my life for years.

Since that even, that fixation is still quiet but still living. Everytime I feel upset, sad, alone or overwhelmed, I think of him reassuring me. I used to be so ashamed of it, but as time passed, I've come to accept that's just how my brain copes with hardship. And if it works and in the end, I feel better, then so be it. I don't have to change how I am just because it's "cringe" or "weird", let me be fucking autistic and embrace that.

Now.

Even if I got more stable and in a much healthier state of mind, I do have those moments where I want to find someone to pamper me and feed me candies. It's not something I can stop (and I don't want to anyway), I developped this to protect me during hardship. I'm less ashamed of it, but I still am slightly. It's hard to admit having such a deep connection with a character who would be put to death in most countries, or get life in jail. I joke about it often to make it more acceptable, even if those are only half-jokes. My friends are very well aware of that situation, and joke about it too.

I do have a clear bound between reality and fiction. If someone in real life would behave like Cioccolata, I would never find them appealing, I would want them in jail for life and condemn their actions. But fictions are a safe place to explore darker feelings, and I should be allowed to indulge in them. I'm not hurting anyone in doing so, and even if it's "problematic", I won't stop unless it actively becomes harmfull (which it hasn't and probably never will). I don't care if it's cringe, I'd rather be cringe than to abandon something that makes me happy, kindly fuck off if you're into that mentality.