#shalnark y reader

[rotten-pomegranate]

Yandere Trouble trio with hybrid reader

Warnings: smut, kidnapping, yandere, rape

Shalnark

Shalnark what’s a bat because he thinks your the cutest little thing in the world with your big brown eyes and little fangs that you try so cutely to bite him with

When he’s having sex with he lives watching your wings twitch and flop around trying to get him off you to no avail

He loves sneaking up and yanking on your ears randomly to see you jump when you feel the random pain

He gets you one of those pull up bars for the closet if you sleep upside down, half the time you don’t get to use it though because he wants you to sleep with him

If you drink blood he’ll have no problem stealing blood bags from the hospital for you

Feitan

Feitan wants a cat because they are quiet and for the most part obedient

Even when you have little outburst of throwing a vase or some plates on the floor he likes it because he gets to have his fun putting you back in your place

If you scratch stuff in his house your gonna get pinned down and declawed he only gives you one warning

Don’t worry he does understand you need to scratch so he’ll get you a post for it

He makes you sleep on the floor with no blankets or pillows when your bad other times he lets you sleep in the bed with him

Phinks

Phinks wants a cat because your cute and small and for the most part you listen to what he says

Your the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life, with you little tail and your big round eyes

And your small he love that your small it makes it so easy for him to move around

If he ignores you for a little bit and you start curling up in his lap begging for attention he’ll lose his mind

He gets some mad cuteness aggression when your going about your basic human activity, your changing a light bulb and your standing on the counter because your to short? He’s dying of cuteness

He has you sleep with him every night because of how you curl up under his arm nice and toasty from his body heat

He won’t do anything sexual if you don’t start it, but if you do he’ll be so happy, he just lives watching you ride him with all your little tummy rolls and your cute little tail hitting his legs when you go back down

©rotten-pomegranate- All rights reserved, don’t steal, translate, copy, plagiarize, claim my work as your own or post it on other platforms.

[moechies]

rrr the yummiest threesome with phinks and shalnark <3 head so fuzzy about big cock phinks pulling your little white panties to the side for easy access to that plush little cunt, and having no remorse despite your little cries of how big he is and how it hurts. and shalnark <3 he’s so baby and yes .. he does feel bad for you in the slightest so he helps to satiate the pain by suckling at that pretty little clit and jerking himself off. he can’t have a pretty lady in even more stress than phinks has bestowed upon you …

ʚ♡ɞ

“stop squirmin’ around…” phinks grunts, readjusting your leg previously propped up onto his shoulder. he tugs at your hips, nudging himself impossibly deeper against your plush walls. “p—phinks!” you mewl, chewing down at your bottom lip to halt your cries. your nails drag down against his bicep, eliciting a hiss.

“fuck,” phinks sighs, peering down at the sight of your swollen cunt swallowing him whole. “t—this is the shit.” the brute grunts, thumbing at your folds and tugging the sticky fabric further to the side.

“no kidding.” the blonde man besides you grins, meeting your teary eyes with a soft hum. “so good for us, girl. mhm.” shalnark hums, pressing down harshly at your clit. “s—shal..” you drag out a whine, a subconscious beg for mercy. “s’—s’mean..”

“mm, it’ll be okay.” he assures with a hum and a soft peck to the tip of your nose. “doing so good for us already. hold out a little, yeah?” he presses a gentle kiss across your eyelids, blocking your view off from the perverted sight of his right hand reaching into his pants. your eyes flutter open anyway — especially when you hear a soft groan fall from the plush lips of the man.

“hnn !” you’re caught off guard by a harsh thrust to your cunt,

“little thing, you best not forget who’s fucking you here just ‘cause shal’s sweetmouthin’ you.”

“s—sorry!” you whine damn sweetly, making phinks scoff.

you’re damn pretty. phinks wouldn’t admit it out loud — shalnark would though — but your pretty little body, the back pliant against the snow sheets, the front against the two men, a gorgeous gleam of sweat painting your soft skin — you’re a perfect little thing. he’s sure shalnark’s thinking the same thing.

he continues his mean strokes to your cunt, humping sloppily against your plush thighs with load groans. you reciprocate with soft whines and hiccups, mewling loudly when you feel warm, sticky balls slap against the fat of your ass.

“fuck, wan’ taste.” shal groans from besides you — removing his thumb from your clit and wasting no time before replacing it with his plush lips. your back arches almost painfully, a shrill squeak elicited from your lips when he suckles meanly at the bundle of nerves, humming against the sensitive flesh. you don’t miss the way the mattress recoils gently from shalnark’s mean pumps to his heavy cock — lewd swipes across the dewy slit of his cock head to soothe the ache. “so shweet,” shalnark whines, “like sap or hh..honey..”

“y’rarely c—cuss, shal. pussy’s got ya in a chokehold?” phinks hisses, not missing the new angle he’s fucking you at after your sudden arch. with another brutal thrust, you feel phinks’ pudgy tip browse across your cervix, causing a loud yelp. “p—phinks h.. hurts!”

“my bad, pretty lady. i can’t say s’all my fault though, y’r asking for it with a damn pretty body like this.” phinks hums, hips stuttering and growing sloppy as his pace quickens. shal’s losing himself too — moaning endlessly around your abused clit — accidently swiping his tongue over where you too connect. “s—shal, damn pervert.” phinks growls, and shalnark only whines in response.

you feel your pussy flutter around the man, stomach aching and yearning for release. “p—phinks, shal.. gon’ cum, gon’ cum, please!” you hiccup, pretty manicure etched into his forearm. “phi—phinks, help me..”

“you got it pretty lady.” the man huffs, pressing his shaft wholly deep into you with no remorse. shal does his job effectively as well — softly nibbling at your clit and that does it.

your pussy clenches endlessly around phinks’ aching cock, slathering the shaft in warm white cream — the two returning the favor. “fuckin’ choking him,” phinks grunts as he cums his thick, viscous spent into your worn cunt, so much that it drools from the sides when he pulls away even in the slightest.

you whimper at the loss from inside, and even shalnark’s detachment from your clit. you turn your head slightly to meet the boy’s cerulean eyes, met with lidded eyes and blushed cheeks. you peer down and don’t miss the viscous nut that coats his hands and dirtied the cloth of his pants —

spiders spin webs after all. ♥︎

[starlitiris]

How the Phantom Troupe would respond to your kids asking where babies come from

the title says it all

this is gonna be a little short I made this in like 5 minutes, reader was kept gender neutral

and I included hisoka yw hisoka fans <3

AND TO THE PERSON WHO ASKED ME TO DO THE LOVE BITES HEADCANONS I SEE YOU AND I WILL WORK ON THAT SOON IVE JUST BEEN BUSY THIS WEEK

WARNINGS: none!

Chrollo

explains exactly how babies are made hopefully with minimal detail

Nobunaga

“Uuuhhhhhhhhhhh”

Feitan

“… uh. I dont know.”

and then walks away or immediately changes the subject

he knows. he knows where babies come from.

coward /j

Machi

“… ask your other parent”

Hisoka

“Good question! Let’s go ask your [parental term you prefer to be called].”

he’s doing this to you on purpose. not because he cant tell your child where babies comes from.

Phinks

“Uhh, shit, um. So- so when uh, two people love each other VERY much, uhh…”

Shalnark

“…”

He’s desperately calling you and asking you what the fuck he’s suppose to say

Franklin

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Shizuku

blinks

stares

“…”

“… the stork?”

Pakunoda

probably has the best response right next to Franklin honestly

gives the same speech as Phinks but without stuttering, swearing and sweating

Uvogin

“… Nah, I’m not ready to have that talk with you yet.”

[eyesofbong]

A Chrollo x F!Hunter Reader Fic | Summary

Best advised to be read in dark mode. AO3 link coming soon!

★ 18+ MDNI WARNINGS: descriptive murder, burning of corpses, torture?, arson, slight implication of attempted suicide, gore, blood, violence, strong mentions of sexual abuse towards children including human trafficking, implied kidnapping, perversion of innocence, predators, CP, and implied rape. (NO I DO NOT ENDORSE THE ABUSE OF CHILDREN. it is only briefly mentioned since it is disgusting to keep the story realistic and strictly used as awareness since this is actual problems in the real world they don't just kidnap children. I WILL NEVER! write about non-con with underage characters or children, rape, and assault.) ★

☆ word count. 8.9k (sheeeesh had to hold back on somethings)

✥ Chapter Summary: Lost in the shadows of your despair, haunted by memories of the children you once saved, you find yourself drifting further from your purpose. But when a call from Chairman Netero breaks the silence, you're pulled back into a world you thought you'd left behind, drawn into the unknown for one last round — for the sake of saving a young man from making the same mistakes you did. ✥

The church was still, bathed in the soft glow of flickering candles. You remained in the pew, feigning prayer, while your mind wrestled with turbulent thoughts.

But before you found yourself here, in this quiet sanctuary, there was a journey—a path that led you back to the world you had once left behind.

“You can’t save them all.”

The words echoed in your mind—a truth you had grappled with for most of your life. So why was it so hard to accept that cruel reality? Why did you live your life the way you did? Most people would argue that they wish they had your power and skills. But they didn’t understand. They couldn’t comprehend the burden that came with such strength.

Why would anyone want to carry that weight for so long?

Power is a double-edged sword. If you aren’t corrupted by it, you’re crushed beneath its weight. How easy it is to destroy rather than create.

You often wondered why Netero had chosen you that day. What did he see first—the helpless child who had lost everything or the Hunter who would grow into his greatest soldier?

You trailed behind the men, each step leading you deeper into the belly of this vile place. They had no idea you were not one of them, no clue that every word you spoke and every move you made was part of a carefully laid trap. The air around you was thick with malice, a foul concoction of despair, fear, and predatory intent.

Since taking the head of your family’s killer, there has been a void in your heart—one you filled with vengeance.

But now, you had a new purpose: to use your power to hunt down the worst of humanity, like this network of mafia traffickers.

Suddenly, your senses sharpened. You heard it—a soft, muffled cry—the children.

The group leader, a man with greasy hair and a twisted grin, laughed. “You hear them, little rascals?” he sneered, gesturing ahead with a perverse pride. “Got a fresh batch of chicklings just yesterday. Innocent, full of life... worth a lot more in certain markets, if you catch my drift..."

A wave of revulsion swept over you, but you kept your face steady, fighting internally the burning in your throat.

Sick bastards. That’s all they were to you. There was nothing more vile than preying upon children, tearing away their innocence, and selling their pain.

Once, you had believed killing was always wrong. But when faced with monsters like these, death seemed like the only solution.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, right, Mistress?” The leader’s voice was thick with expectation, his beady eyes studying you for any sign of weakness.

You met his gaze with a cold, calculated, calm one. “The price is no problem, but I’ll need to see the ‘quality’ of the children you speak of to ensure they’re worth it,” you replied, playing along with his sick game. He grinned, his yellowed teeth bared like a predator sensing victory.

“Of course, my lady, right this way,” he said, gesturing for you to follow him up a rickety flight of stairs.

As you ascended, you noticed the tapes scattered on the floor—stacks of them carefully labeled and arranged. Your heart sank at the sight. You knew exactly what they were: recordings of abuse. Child pornography is waiting to be sold and distributed. Evidence of what these children had endured and what they were being forced to relive in the most horrific way possible.

Images of small, terrified faces pinned to the walls, some in tears, others with expressions frozen in fear, burned into your mind. You forced yourself to keep moving, to keep your eyes forward, your face blank. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to lash out, but you had to stay focused. You had to see this through.

When you reached the top, he led you to a door and pushed it open with a creak. Inside, the children were huddled together, wide-eyed and trembling. At the front stood a small boy with big gray eyes—"The runt." of the group. His clothes were torn, dirt smeared on his cheeks, but there was something in his gaze—a spark of defiance that hadn’t yet been snuffed out. The other children seemed to hover protectively around him, even in their weakened states.

“Well, what do you think of these little lambs?” the leader asked, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Aren’t they precious?”

You glanced at the children, your heart aching. For a split second, your gaze softened when you saw the small, porcelain-skinned boy, his eyes locked onto yours. He seemed to sense something in you, something different. You took a slow, steady breath, and without moving your lips, you mouthed, “I’m here to help.”

The boy’s grip on the bars loosened slightly. Hope flickered in his big gray eyes. You could feel the children’s fear and desperation mingling with a fragile thread of trust. They were so small, so fragile, yet somehow still fighting.

“They are precious,” you murmured, your voice taking on a steely edge. “But not in the way you’re thinking.”

The men’s laughter faltered. They sensed the shift, but too late. You moved swiftly, raising your hand. A wall of stone shot up from the ground, separating the children from their captors. Panic spread among the men as they scrambled for their weapons, but you were already moving.

With a flick of your wrist, a vine extended from the stone wall, and in its grip, a sword was handed to you. The blade flashed, slicing through the air. In one swift motion, you severed their hands before they could draw their guns. Blood spattered against the walls, and the men screamed.

“You crazy bi—” one of them began, but his voice was cut off as you grabbed his face. Nen flames flared from your palm, melting his skin. His screams turned to a hideous, gurgling cry as you slammed him against the wall, against a picture of him touching one of the children.

“My flames are nothing compared to the ones you’ll face for eternity,” you said, your voice cold and unwavering.

"THE DEVIL! YOU'RE THE DEVIL!" he shrieked, his voice cracking in terror.

“YOU’LL GO TO HELL TOO!” another screamed.

You tilted your head slightly, unbothered. “I know,” you replied calmly. “And I’ll be right there with you... to make sure you suffer.”

With a final, furious surge of nen, you let the flames consume him, his body twitching as the fire took hold. One by one, the men fell, their screams swallowed by the inferno of your rage.

The air thickened with the stench of burning flesh, but all you felt was a calm, cold satisfaction. You took a deep breath, letting the fire die down, leaving only smoldering ashes behind.

The floor was now slick with blood, staining everything it touched. You closed your eyes and focused, drawing on your nen, the energy that flowed through your very being. You felt a ripple within yourself, a gathering of moisture in your veins, pulling towards your fingertips. With a single thought, you summoned it forth.

20%

A small, shimmering blob of water began to form, hovering just above your palm. It glistened with a faint blue hue, infused with your nen—your life force flowing through it. The water was more than liquid; it was an extension of your will, a manifestation of the purity and cleansing you desired.

You moved your hand slowly, and the blob expanded, reaching toward the crimson stains that pooled on the floor. It touched the blood, and a strange, almost serene reaction occurred. The nen-infused water seemed to drink up the blood, absorbing it into its depths, turning it from a crystalline blue to a dark, murky red. It quivered and shifted, gathering every last drop, until the floor was clean.

Once it was done, you flicked your wrist, and the blood-tainted water dissipated into steam, evaporating into the air. The scent of iron and smoke faded, leaving behind only the faintest whisper of moisture.

You turned to the vine still hanging from the wall. “Take the corpses to another room,” you said softly. “I don’t want the children to see this.”

The vine extended, wrapping around the charred remains and dragging them away, leaving the room clear. You watched it go, feeling a pang of sorrow in your chest. “I’m sorry, Mother,” you whispered, “but someone has to purge the evil, right?”

The vine nodded as if in understanding and vanished into the shadows.

With the room now clear, you lowered the stone wall, allowing the children to see. They were still huddled together, wide-eyed, trembling, but there was a new light in their eyes—a glimmer of hope.

You kneeled, using a tiny flame to illuminate the room gently. “You’re safe now,” you said softly, your voice switching to a delicate tone.

The small, marble-eyed boy stepped forward. His hand slipped into yours, his grip surprisingly strong for his size. “You back came for us?” he whispered, his voice shaking but resolute.

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently, a warm smile breaking through your hardened expression. “Always.”

The children began to move toward you, timid at first, then with growing confidence, their small hands reaching out, seeking comfort. For now, at least, they were safe.

And you would make sure it stayed that way.

It was mostly your funding that kept the orphanages in Meteor City from crumbling. Your money was funneled into the broken, forgotten corners of the city where children like Chrollo and his friends sought refuge. You couldn’t always be there, but when you were, you made it count—your presence, your touch, your attention. That was the difference, wasn’t it? You had to put your wealth somewhere, after all—unlike Ging or Pariston, whose fortunes seemed to disappear into the wind, chasing their whims. For you, though, Meteor City had become an escape, a place to atone for the things you couldn’t control.

But it was more than duty, wasn’t it?

Chrollo had bonded to you in a way that you hadn’t expected. The other children admired you, but he worshiped you. His innocence clung to you, unsettling and infectious, dragging you into a world where, for brief moments, you almost believed you could be more than just a Hunter. That you could be someone who stayed.

It was one of those quiet, unguarded moments when you found yourself in Meteor City again, his small, frail body curled up against yours on his bed, his head tucked beneath your chin as if he could melt into your very being. His face pressed into your chest, and his small hands clung to your shirt as if you were his entire world.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice soft, pleading. His wide gray eyes blinked up at you, still so full of that childlike adoration that made your chest tighten painfully. He didn’t understand—how could he? He was too young, too innocent.

You combed your fingers through his shaggy, jet-black hair, pretending it didn’t hurt to hear him ask. Pretending it didn’t make you feel like you were betraying something inside yourself. The glow from the window—the familiar golden light of dawn—signaled your impending departure. Mother Nature, it seemed, always knew when it was time to pull you away. You would have to leave again. You always left.

But not yet.

“Okay,” you whispered, the lie slipping from your lips like it always did. “I’ll stay.” You tucked his head back against your chest, hoping to drown his fears in the safety of your embrace. He felt so small compared to you, so fragile. You held him tighter, but no matter how tightly you cradled him, you knew it wouldn’t be enough. You couldn’t stay.

He sighed, his words soft and filled with frustration. “I wish you were just a normal girl. Not the Great Hunter. They always take you away from me.”

The weight of his words crushed your chest. You swallowed hard, burying the guilt and sorrow that always surfaced in these moments. He was just a boy, after all—a boy who didn’t know what it meant to live a life like yours. His love was simple, innocent, and untainted by the reality that you could never be what he wanted you to be.

He sighed again, his voice thick with sleep. “It’s not fair. You’re just a kid like me, but it’s like... you’re not. You’re stronger, taller... you have magic. You’re not afraid of anything.” His sleepy eyes blinked up at you, half-lidded, his gaze lingering on your face as if you were the only thing keeping him from falling asleep. “You’re so cool, Y/N.”

You forced a smile, your heart aching with every word. How could he say these things so easily, not knowing the storm they stirred within you? You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be feeling this pull toward him, this unbearable conflict between duty and something else—something darker, something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I want to be strong like you,” he continued, his voice fading as sleep began to pull him under. “Then I’ll be the one to save you.”

You let out a chuckle, though it felt hollow. “Oh really? I can’t wait to see you try.” Your voice was soft and gentle, as if you could keep him safe from the weight of your feelings. But even as you spoke, your gaze lingered on his longer than it should have. The way his eyes—those innocent gray eyes—held yours made something inside you crack. You didn’t want to look away.

And yet, you had to.

As Chrollo yawned, his body slowly relaxing into the warmth of your embrace, your heart clenched in that familiar, bittersweet way. You knew what was coming next—the moment when he would fall asleep, and you’d have to leave. You always left. He knew it too, even if he didn’t say it. His eyes fought against the sleep pulling him under as if staying awake would keep you there just a little longer.

You should go. You needed to go. But instead, you held him close, brushing your thumb along his cheek, tracing the outline of his pale face. He murmured something so soft, so quiet, you almost didn’t hear it.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Your heart shattered.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and suffocating. You didn’t respond. How could you? What could you say to that? You weren’t supposed to feel this way. You weren’t supposed to let it hurt. And yet, his innocent words cut deeper than any wound you had ever known.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you cradled his face in your hands, letting the silence fill the space between you. Your mind and heart were at war, clashing violently as you tried to convince yourself that you felt nothing for this boy—nothing beyond duty, beyond the role you were meant to play.

But his words lingered. His love lingered. And it was killing you.

Only you could carry this burden. You had to ensure that you were the last shepherd, even if you were just a broken saint now.

And when he called, you would answer, no matter how much time had passed since that harrowing incident.

Isaac Netero’s familiar contact flashed onto your phone just as you returned to your quiet estate. The grand home, surrounded by vast lands, had become your sanctuary—where time seemed to stand still. Bamboo trees swayed in the wind, whispering secrets you couldn’t quite hear, and the rustle of leaves was like a lullaby to your broken spirit. This land, untouched and isolated, had become your refuge. Here, you could pretend the world had forgotten you, just as you had tried to ignore it.

You rarely needed to leave; everything you required, you grew with your own hands. The earth was rich and forgiving; the bamboo was tall and kind, your only companions, as well as the critters that inhabited the land, your only solace. They tried to aid in healing your scars, though they only made the loss more bearable. They connected you to reality, keeping you grounded and pulling you back from the edge whenever you felt yourself slipping away. They depended on you as much as you did on them. 

But even Mother Nature, with all her quiet persistence, couldn’t fill the gaping void left by your loss. She could only make the emptiness more bearable, less suffocating.

You had given in to the silence, but she hadn’t given up on you. Yet the moment Netero’s contact appeared, the corpse of your heart couldn’t help but beat with a retired purpose you knew you could no longer fulfill.

Still, your hands, worn and deft, quickly picked up the phone, bringing it to your ear.

“Y/N L/N. Think you have a chance to talk, my dear?”

His familiar, softened gruff voice was a reminder of how time had aged him, even though he had left you with so many unanswered questions. He was still your father in many ways.

But you were now Netero’s little fallen general.

“I’m here,” you replied, your voice a ghost of itself, as if unused to forming words meant for anyone else. “It's good to hear your voice. I would ask, How have you been?”

“I am well, Father,” you cut in, a weary undertone threading through your words. “Trying to keep the ground from swallowing me whole.”

A heavy silence fell between you, a shared history that neither of you wanted to address hanging thick in the air. Netero sighed, his voice dipping into a tone you had not heard in years—gentle, almost pleading. 

“Y/N…”

You remained silent, unyielding, waiting for him to continue.

“Listen to me, just this once,” he started, but you interrupted again, sharper this time, like a blade cutting through the fog.

“My nen is gone, Isaac," you said, each word deliberate and hard. "There’s nothing more to that story. There is no Master of the Hunters anymore.”

The silence that followed was colder, heavier. You could almost hear him wince at the use of his first name, a name you rarely called him. You knew it hurt him—that it stripped away the façade he liked to wear around you.

He hesitated, then took a deep breath, his voice laced with quiet desperation. “I'm not asking for her to listen to me,” he said carefully. “I'm asking for you, Y/N.”

Your gaze drifted to the bamboo outside, watching the stalks bend and sway in the wind. There was a part of you that wanted to hang up, to let the silence consume you once more, but another part—a faint, barely alive spark—kept you on the line.

“There is a young man,” Netero continued, “who is the spitting reincarnation of you."

Your chest tightened, the ache spreading like a slow poison through your veins. You swallowed, but it felt like shards of glass in your throat.

Netero’s voice softened, almost as if he were trying to soothe a frightened child. “I know I pushed you to retire early, and for that, I am sorry,” he confessed, his words heavy with regret. “I couldn’t bear the thought of what might happen if the wrong people found out you had lost your nen. But this boy—he needs someone who can show him the way. Someone who can give him a chance to choose a different path. A scent he can follow.”

He paused, the weight of his words settling into the air between you. “None of us can do that.”

A flicker of frustration sparked within you, threatening to crack the numbness you had wrapped around yourself like armor. You closed your eyes, the familiar heaviness of duty pressing against your chest. "Why... why do you always drag me back, Isaac?" you murmured, your voice almost devoid of emotion, a whisper lost in the wind.

“Because,” he replied softly, his voice steady but filled with quiet insistence, “you lost your nen, but you didn’t lose everything. I couldn’t save you from your fate... but you can save him before he makes the same mistake.”

For a moment, the world outside seemed to be still. The bamboo stopped swaying, the wind held its breath, and even the critters paused their quiet movements. Everything waited for you to decide whether you would let yourself be pulled back into the life you had tried so hard to leave behind.

A slow exhale escaped your lips, and your grip tightened around the phone. Maybe it wasn’t about saving yourself. Maybe it was about saving someone else—just one more time.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally whispered, knowing you were already halfway convinced.

Netero's sigh of relief was almost inaudible, but you felt it—a soft echo in your chest. "That's all I ask," he said gently. "Just think about it."

And with that, the call ended, leaving you standing alone in the quiet of your sanctuary, the wind picking up again, the bamboo swaying once more.

For the first time in a long time, you felt the stirrings of something beyond emptiness—a faint, fragile thing that might have been hope.

You let yourself fall back against the mat, feeling the familiar, frayed edges pressing into your back. Your phone lay loosely in your grip, screen dark, but its weight still anchored you to the moment. You stared blankly at the stone pond before you, the water still and silent under the overcast sky. But inside, that gnawing feeling had grown stronger, louder, and more insistent. The doubt and emptiness you had tried so hard to bury now surged to the surface like a wave, threatening to swallow you whole.

Then you saw her—the familiar, ethereal form rising from the pond—"Mother," your nen-made spirit, tilting her head at you, trying to read the emotions you kept so tightly locked away. Her shape shimmered and wavered, the liquid surface of her body catching the dim light, reflecting a thousand tiny, dancing fragments of your surroundings.

“You’re cruel...” you muttered, not bothering to lift your head. You didn’t need to see her to know she was there, watching you with a concern you could not bear. The water spirit hovered closer, her presence radiating a gentle insistence. A wave of water reached out, almost like a hand, and as she moved, droplets broke away and splattered onto your face. The cool water trickled down your skin, obliging you to finally look up and meet her gaze.

Her expression was unreadable, but the tension in her form, the way her edges seemed to blur and tremble, told you everything. She was worried. She is always worried. Especially when you have attempted to end your suffering...

Seeing her like that... It only made the ache worse. It plagued you and gnawed at you like an open wound. You hated it. You hated feeling like this—so useless, so empty. Once, you had been so certain of your place in the world, so sure of your purpose. You had moved like a blade through the darkness, cutting down every evil in your path. You had saved countless lives and fought battles that others had deemed impossible. You mattered.

And now... now it felt like all of that was gone. Stripped away the moment your nen vanished. When it had left you, it had taken everything with it. Your sense of self, your purpose, your reason for being—it had all crumbled to dust, leaving nothing but a hollow shell behind.

"Quit it," you muttered, your voice low and tired. "I'm not in the mood."

But Mother didn’t listen. She never did. Instead, she moved closer, her form rippling like a soft wave, the water elongating until it seemed to reach across the space between you. With a sudden, playful motion, she curled around your feet, a cold grip tightening around your ankles. Before you could protest, she yanked you off the mat, dragging you across the ground.

“Really?” You groaned, exasperation flaring. You knew what she was doing. She was trying to wake you up, to stir something inside you. “Cut it out, Mother.”

She didn’t respond. The water around your ankles tightened, and with another tug, she lifted you upside down, your hair falling toward the ground. The blood rushed to your head, and you blinked, momentarily disoriented. For a moment, you dangled there like a rag doll over the pond, your feet held aloft by a watery tendril.

You found yourself staring directly into her face—or what passed for a face—her liquid eyes focused intently on you, unblinking, unwavering. She was demanding your attention, forcing you to look at her to confront whatever was buried deep inside. The silence stretched between you, filled only by the gentle slosh of water moving with every slight motion.

“I said quit it,” you repeated, a hint of irritation in your voice. But she didn’t budge. Her expression seemed almost stern. The water droplets that made up her body shivered slightly, as if she were speaking a language only you could understand.

Mother’s form shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly. Her head tilted again, and for a second, she almost seemed to frown. The water that held you up began to twist and turn, slowly spinning you in the air as if examining you from every angle. Her touch was cold, but there was something else there—something gentle, almost comforting, beneath the chill. She wouldn’t let you hide from this. She wouldn’t let you sink back into the darkness you’d been wallowing in for so long.

“Quit it, Mother,” you muttered, voice strained, but there was no real fight in your tone. You were too exhausted to fight her, too tired to do much more than dangle there, your heart heavy and your purpose frayed.

Mother, ever persistent, moved the water around you in a swirl, as if shaping something from the depths of her core. You felt a coldness, a thin sheet of water sliding up to your face, and then you saw it—your reflection mirrored perfectly in the water.

But Mother didn’t stop there. Slowly, deliberately, she turned the reflection around.

Your eyes widened as you caught sight of your own back and your skin. The large, red Hunter symbol emblazoned between your shoulder blades, stark against your flesh, with the L/N family symbols woven underneath, bearing the phrase that had once given you strength:

"No child left behind." 

The words, so familiar, stared back at you with a cruel clarity. Your vow, your creed. The promise you had whispered to yourself a thousand times over, in the darkest nights, in the quiet moments of despair. The very words you had once tattooed onto your skin were like armor against the world.

Your breath caught in your throat. You tried to look away, but Mother twisted the mirror slightly, making sure you couldn’t escape it.

The reminder was as sharp as a blade, cutting through your excuses and your self-pity.

You were The Great Hunter, not because of the nen you wielded, but because of the promise you had made. Because of the innocent you had sworn to protect.

Mother watched, her watery eyes soft but firm, refusing to release you until the weight of that reflection settled back into your bones.

You sighed, a long, tired exhale, and for a moment, just a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the ache of that old purpose stirring within you.

She stared back, unyielding. Her watery surface rippled slightly, as if in response to your unspoken thoughts, and you felt a tear prick at the corner of your eye. A tear you quickly blink away. The silence stretched on, filled with everything you weren't saying—filled with all the things she knew you didn’t want to admit.

You sighed, feeling the fight leave you, your shoulders slumping. “Fine. Fine, you win,” you said quietly, feeling defeated, but in a way that almost felt like relief. She had always been there to stop you from corrupting yourself, always pushing you, always forcing you to face the things you wanted to ignore. And now, as much as you hated to admit it, you needed her to do it again.

You felt her release your ankles, and for a moment, you simply stood there, breathing, your heartbeat slowing, the cool air biting at your skin. She hovered closer, her watery hand reaching out as if to touch your face, but she hesitated, just a fraction of an inch away. You stared into her eyes, feeling something inside you break loose like a dam giving way.

You hated this... You hated feeling like you were nothing. Like you were just a vessel for the person you used to be.

Your Nen was gone, but you were still here. That gnawing, insatiable need to matter, to make a difference, was still there, burning quietly beneath the surface.

You took a breath, your fingers tightening around the phone still in your hand. "Alright," you whispered, almost to yourself. "Alright, I'll do it."

Mother seemed to shimmer, her form brightening slightly as if she were smiling. Her droplets swirled around you, a gentle, swirling dance of liquid light like she was encouraging you, cheering you on.

Your thumb moved over the phone screen, almost of its own accord, and you found Netero’s name again, hesitating for just a heartbeat before you pressed the call button. The phone rang once, twice, and then his voice came through—calm but expectant as if he had known you would call back.

“Y/N?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, steeling yourself, and then spoke, your voice steady. “Where is he?”

You stepped off the airship, choosing to take a more grounded approach this time. It had been so long since you walked among society; today, you wanted to feel the earth beneath your feet and hear the noise of life all around you. Normally, you would have flown in on Khan, your Seraphrid—a creature resembling a winged horse, only larger and more formidable, a loyal companion since your youth. But today felt different.

As expected, Khan had already beaten you here. His sleek, black form stood tall among the trees, his six powerful legs moving with an elegance that defied his size. His head was turned in your direction, and the two long, string-like antennae that served as his natural bridle extended, sensing your presence. They wrapped around your arm, their touch gentle but firm, syncing with the veins on the underside of your wrist. The bond was immediate, an ancient connection that required no words.

With a familiar pull, you mounted him, his raised hoof serving as a stepping stool, an unspoken offer only the two of you understood. You clicked your tongue softly, a signal you’d always used, and he responded with a low, rumbling neigh that resonated through your bones.

Khan didn’t need instructions. He read your intentions through the link you shared, feeling the subtle shifts in your thoughts and emotions. He began to trot into the dense forest, guided by your thoughts alone, the rhythm of his steps matching the cadence of your heartbeat.

Netero had informed you that the young man, the one you were to meet, was training in these woods. He had given you the young man’s contact information, though he had been elusive with any real details. When you had pressed for more information, Netero had only chuckled, his words tinged with mystery: “You’ll see...”

Typical of him to leave you to uncover the truth on your own, to dig up the bone yourself, like always. As Khan weaved through the thick underbrush, you found yourself wondering about this boy. What was it about him that had made Netero reach out to you after all this time? What was so special that it warranted pulling you back into this world?

The dense forest began to thin, opening into a sun-dappled clearing. Khan slowed to a gentle canter, his antennae twitching as if sensing something ahead. You felt it too—a presence, quiet yet intense, like a heartbeat echoing through the trees.

This had to be the place. As you dismounted, Khan’s gaze remained fixed forward, his body tense and alert. You patted his side, reassuring him, and he relaxed slightly, though his eyes never wavered from whatever lay beyond the clearing.

You took a deep breath, feeling the familiar stir of curiosity and something deeper—something that felt like the whisper of purpose reigniting within you. Stepping forward, you moved into the clearing, ready to meet the young man Netero had sent you to find, ready to face whatever awaited you on the other side.

You dismounted slowly, your feet sinking into the damp earth as the coolness of the soil crept up through your boots, grounding you in the present moment. The clearing before you stretched wide, dappled sunlight breaking through the thick canopy above, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of moss and earth, a living, breathing presence around you. Khan stood tall beside you, his powerful form coiled with restrained energy, his antennae twitching in tune with the undercurrent of tension that rippled from you like a stone dropped in water.

Ahead, the low murmur of voices reached your ears, punctuated by the rhythmic clack of wood striking wood and the sharp rustle of leaves disturbed by quick, deliberate movements. You moved forward slowly, cautiously, each step bringing the sounds into sharper clarity. As you reached the edge of the clearing, you paused, taking in the scene before you.

Two figures moved with practiced grace, their forms entwined in a dance of combat, their bodies speaking a language of strength and discipline. One of them, tall and broad-shouldered, had a presence that radiated intensity and control—Izunavi, a hunter you had known from years ago. His sharp, unwavering gaze and the calm precision of his movements marked him as a hunter, one who had taught countless others the art of survival.

But it was the boy who drew your attention.

He was younger than you had imagined, his golden hair catching the sunlight like a halo, his eyes narrowed in concentration, a fierce determination burning in their depths. His posture was taut, muscles coiled and ready, every motion calculated and precise as he mirrored Izunavi’s steps, his gaze never faltering, never leaving his mentor for even a heartbeat. His body moved with the grace of a predator, but there was a tension there—a rawness, a desperation that was almost painful to watch.

So this was Kurapika.

Your breath caught in your throat. It was like staring into a ghost, a specter of who you had once been—a younger self, with that same consuming fire, that same drive, that same reckless need to prove something to a world that had never shown mercy. You recognized the look in his eyes immediately. You had seen it in your reflection, in the faces of those you had saved and those you had failed. The beast of burden lay heavy in his gaze, the weight of vengeance familiar darkness that seemed to clutch at his very soul.

He was still a child. Just as you had been—a child thrust into a world too cruel and too vast, carrying a burden too heavy for shoulders so young. You lingered in the shadows, your heart tightening in your chest, a sense of foreboding curling in your gut. Finally, you decided to step forward, your presence pressing through the air like a ripple in still water.

Izunavi’s movements stilled. He sensed you first, his eyes flickering toward you, his expression a mask of calm neutrality, though you saw the faint recognition behind his eyes. His stance eased, a subtle acknowledgment. Kurapika followed his gaze, turning to face you, and the intensity of his scrutiny hit you like a blow—a look so piercing it seemed to strip away layers, searching, demanding answers before he even spoke.

“Master,” Izunavi greeted, his tone respectful but carrying a hint of something harder beneath. "Netero told me you might be dropping by."

"Y/N," you corrected, voice soft but firm. Each syllable felt heavy in your mouth, burdened by the memories of your past. You inclined your head slightly, stepping fully into the clearing, moving with purpose, though a knot tightened in your stomach. "It’s been a while, Izunavi," you said, your voice sounding almost foreign to your ears. "I see you’ve taken on another pupil."

Izunavi nodded. "One with a special kind of determination," he replied, a note of pride softening his otherwise stern demeanor. He glanced at Kurapika, who stood like a coiled spring, ready to snap. "Kurapika, this is Y/N L/N—once known as Master Hunter, The Great Hunter, the Hound of the Hunters… too many names to count."

Kurapika’s eyes widened slightly at the sound of your name. Recognition flickered across his features—his expression shifting from curiosity to something deeper, something darker. You could almost see the thoughts racing behind his gaze, the questions forming, and the curiosity and anger mingling in a storm of emotion.

Netero had left you a note from the first examiner of the 287th Hunter Exam: "Kurapika Kurta said he wishes to become a Hunter to exact revenge on the Phantom Troupe and seek aid from the Master Hunter." The Phantom Troupe, a name you had only heard in passing, a whisper of a threat, a gang too small to matter back then. But now, seeing Kurapika’s face, you realize how much had changed and how much you had missed.

“Where were you that day?” Kurapika’s voice was low but steady, each word laced with a simmering rage that seemed barely contained. "I read stories about you... Master Hunter, the one who made crime vanish like mist before the sun. When my people were slaughtered, I didn’t fear, because I knew—you would come. You would hunt them down for me."

The pain in his voice was like a knife twisting in your chest. “I waited years for you! Held onto that hope until I had no choice but to become the hunter I needed.”

His voice cracked, but the fury within it did not waver. "You let them walk this earth after what they did to me... to my people." His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white, his breath ragged. And then you saw it—the flash of scarlet behind his gray contacts, the burning rage of his clan's curse, the anger and grief all mixed into one volatile storm.

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard against it. The weight of his accusation bore down on you like a physical force. In your absence, the world had shifted and twisted, and you had been powerless to stop it. You had lost your Nen that day, the day you had lost everything.

That’s why you weren’t there.

The same beast of burden now latched onto him had once latched onto you. You had failed him, and his words cut deep into whatever was left of your fractured soul. If only you had known... If only you had hunted them when they were small, a mere whisper of a threat. If only…

But you hadn’t. And now you were facing the result of that failure.

Your silence hung heavy in the air. You felt the burn in your eyes, the sting in your throat, and the weight of every decision and every choice you had made that led to this moment. There was nothing you could say to erase the pain in his eyes—the sense of betrayal that seemed to radiate from him like heat.

Kurapika's expression hardened, his jaw tightening, his eyes narrowing to slits. “I need justice,” he said, his voice colder now, like a blade drawn against a stone.

You drew a deep breath, fighting against the rising tide of emotion within you. “Justice is a fine line, Kurapika,” you replied quietly, meeting his gaze with a steady resolve. “And revenge can blur it until you don’t know which side you’re on.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes burning with a mixture of fury and something deeper—something fragile and almost broken. He turned away, shoulders tense, his footsteps heavy, as if carrying the weight of the world on his back. A part of you wanted to reach out, to stop him, to pull him back from the edge. But you knew better than to force it. He had to find his way, just as you had.

“Kurap-” Izunavi began, his voice edged with concern, but you raised a hand, silencing him. Your eyes remained on Kurapika’s retreating form, watching as he disappeared into the trees, swallowed by the shadows.

“Let him go,” you whispered, the words barely more than a breath. "I’ll talk to him later... once he’s cooled off."

Izunavi hesitated but finally nodded, trusting your judgment. You stared into the forest where Kurapika had vanished, the weight of his words still heavy on your heart. You knew that if he continued on this path, it would lead only to more pain and more loss. You weren’t sure you could bear to watch someone else descend into the same darkness that had swallowed you whole.

You had to try for his sake and yours.

“How far is he in his Nen?” you asked, breaking the stillness. Izunavi turned, his expression solemn.

“He's a determined, quick learner, but he’s already made those terrible vows for his Nen ability. It’s been five months since he started, and he’s planning something for September 1st.”

Next month, you thought. Not much time. “Is it related to the Troupe?”

“Positive.” Izunavi’s response was immediate; his voice edged with tension.

You sighed deeply, feeling the familiar heaviness in your chest. Another lost child, another soul standing at a precipice. The memory of the children from Meteor City flickered in your mind—those small, eager faces filled with both mischief and hope. Even now, you could remember the way they looked up to you, their eyes wide with wonder and something more—something like belief.

Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks—all those troublemakers who had once felt like yours in some way despite being the same age. You had often wondered where they were now, how life had treated them, and if they had stayed on the path you had hoped for them. Maybe, when all of this was over, you’d find them again. Just to see. Just to know.

Izunavi’s voice pulled you back. “His vows are monstrous, Y/N. I don’t know what he sacrificed, but his chains are still out of control. He’s powerful, but he can’t command them yet.”

“Chains?” You repeated, an eyebrow arching in surprise. “That’s his ability?”

Izunavi nodded gravely. “Yes. He wants to bind the spiders to hell with them.”

A small, amused laugh slipped past your lips, as that did sound like something he would say. Then your expression turned serious. “Izunavi… I’ve lost my Nen. If I decide to teach this boy, will you be my eyes?”

Izunavi blinked, momentarily stunned, but he quickly nodded, his gaze steady and filled with a new understanding. “I will,” he promised softly. “But... are you ready for this?”

You took a breath, the weight of your own words settling within you. “I wasn’t Netero’s best hunter just because of my Nen.”

You could still feel Nen, even Mother’s Nen whenever she came to you, like a whisper at the back of your mind, a gentle reminder of the power that once flowed through you like a river. You hadn’t lost your instincts—if anything, losing your Nen had sharpened them. It was like losing a sense and gaining another. You could feel things now, in ways that other Nen users couldn’t—like sensing the shift in the air before a storm.

Izunavi hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, his voice a little softer, a little more unsure. “Y/N, you can do it? Teach him? With your Nen gone…?”

You looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “I can.”

Izunavi seemed to consider your words, then nodded again, more firmly this time. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll be your eyes.”

Your gaze drifted toward the direction where Kurapika had stormed off, your thoughts tangled with the past and the present. You knew the path he was on—you had been there yourself once. And you didn’t want Kurapika to stain his hands as you had stained yours, even if it was for what you believed was “good.”

If you could help him find another way—if you could keep his hands clean, you would. You were willing to stain yours all over again for the sake of keeping him from the blood that had already marked too many lives.

You had to operate in his shadow. Teaching Kurapika while also trying to beat him to the Phantom Troupe would be no easy task—especially if you had to do it behind his back. There was still so much you didn’t know. The years you spent disconnected from society left gaps in your knowledge. You couldn’t deny it, and the thought made you clench your fist. At least you could still rely on the physical strength of the L/N bloodline—but even that might not be enough. What if the Phantom Troupe’s Nen abilities were stronger than you anticipated? If they were all together, no matter how much experience you had, they could easily overwhelm you by sheer numbers.

What if you couldn’t protect Kurapika? The thought sent a shiver up your spine.

This was a mess just waiting to explode.

Izunavi watched you quietly, sensing the shift in your mood, the old scars being reopened, and the new purpose forming in your heart. You felt the stirrings of a familiar resolve—a quiet, burning fire that refused to go out.

“Let’s start now,” you said, meeting Izunavi’s gaze with a calm but determined look. “We have until September 1st. I won’t let him fall.”

You followed Kurapika as the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. Shadows lengthened, and the woods grew quieter, the sounds of the day's creatures giving way to the night’s. You had given him time—enough time, you hoped—for his anger to cool and for his heart to steady. But you knew that the embers of rage didn’t die so easily; they could smolder for a long, long time.

You found him near the lake, sitting against a tree with his knees pulled up, his blonde hair catching the last rays of sunlight like threads of gold. He stared blankly ahead, lost in thought, his face a mask of quiet resolve. You watched him for a moment from a distance, letting your presence be felt without imposing yourself. You knew words wouldn’t be enough—not yet, not for a boy with a fresh wound.

Slowly, you made your way toward him, moving carefully and deliberately, leaving space for him to turn you away if he chose. He didn’t look at you, but he didn’t push you away either. That, in itself, was something. You took a seat beside him, leaving enough distance between the two of you to let him feel unpressured but close enough that your presence was felt. You let the silence stretch, understanding that sometimes it was the only thing that could truly speak.

After a while, you finally broke the silence, your voice soft, almost tentative. "You want to hunt the Troupe, right?"

Kurapika didn’t move at first, his eyes still fixed on the water. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but resolved. “I don’t have a choice.”

The words hung between you, heavy with finality. You have heard that before, spoken in different ways by different people. It was always the same. A choice made in desperation, when the soul felt trapped by the past, by the need to correct something that could never truly be fixed.

“You always have a choice,” you replied softly, your tone neither reprimanding nor coddling. It was simply a statement of fact.

Kurapika shifted, his hands tightening around his knees. “Not when it comes to this. Not when it comes to them.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, studying the lines of tension etched across his young face. He was still so young—too young for this kind of rage to live so deeply inside him. But rage wasn’t something that cared for age, wisdom, or even reason. You knew that better than anyone.

“They took everything from me,” he continued, his voice harder now, laced with bitterness. “Everything. My family, my home, my future. I can’t just let that go!”

You exhaled slowly, a quiet sigh that was lost in the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. “Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting,” you said gently. “It doesn’t mean forgiving either. But this path you’re walking... It’s not just about revenge anymore. It’s about who you become at the end of it.”

Kurapika’s eyes flicked toward you then, sharp and wary like he was expecting a lecture he’d heard a thousand times before. But you weren’t here to preach.

“I’m not asking you to stop,” you clarified, your gaze still on the water, the gentle waves reflecting the dying light. “I know that’s not an option for you. But you need to be careful, Kurapika. Rage has a way of consuming everything in its path. It’ll burn through you if you’re not careful. Until there’s nothing left of the person you used to be.”

He was silent for a moment, absorbing your words. The tension in his body hadn’t lessened, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—uncertainty, perhaps. Or maybe it was understanding.

“I can control it,” he said, his voice quieter now, but the determination in it was unmistakable. “I have to.”

You nodded slightly, acknowledging his resolve. “Control is important. But you also need balance. Power without purpose is dangerous, even to yourself.”

Kurapika frowned, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Purpose? My purpose is to kill them.”

You turned to face him fully then, your eyes locking onto his. “And after that? What happens when they’re gone? What’s left for you?”

The question caught him off guard. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. For a moment, the hard façade he had built around himself seemed to crack, and you saw the lost boy beneath. A boy who had lost everything and didn’t know how to live without his hatred to guide him.

“That’s why I’m here,” you continued, your voice softening. “I’ve walked this path before. I know where it leads. If you’re not careful, you’ll reach the end of it and find that nothing is waiting for you on the other side. Nothing but emptiness.”

Kurapika’s hands slowly unclenched, his fingers tracing the edge of his sleeves as if grounding himself in the present moment. He didn’t say anything, but you could see the conflict in his eyes.

You reached out then, gently placing your hand on his shoulder, a rare gesture of comfort. “I’m not saying this to stop you,” you said, your voice low, almost a whisper. “But I am saying you need to think about what comes next. After the bloodshed. After the vengeance. What will you be left with?”

Kurapika lowered his head, the weight of your words sinking in. The silence stretched between you again, but this time it wasn’t filled with tension. It was a moment of quiet reflection.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice barely audible.

You gave a small nod, squeezing his shoulder lightly before pulling your hand back. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know yet. Just... don’t lose yourself in the process.”

For a long moment, Kurapika didn’t move, his gaze fixed on the ground, deep in thought. When he finally looked up, there was a new clarity in his eyes, though the fire still burned there, too. He wasn’t ready to let go of his vengeance, but at least now he was starting to see the danger in letting it consume him completely.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his voice steady but quieter than before.

You nodded again, satisfied for now. It was a start. He would need time to fully understand what you meant, but at least the seed had been planted. And as much as you wanted to protect him from the pain of the path he was walking, you knew he had to walk it for himself. All you could do was guide him along the way.

As the last traces of daylight disappeared from the sky, you stood up, brushing the dirt from your pants. “Come on,” you said, offering him a hand. “Let’s head back before it gets too dark.”

Kurapika hesitated for a moment before accepting your hand, pulling himself up to his feet. He stood beside you, his gaze lingering on the horizon for just a moment longer before he nodded, turning to follow you back toward the camp.

As you walked side by side, the soft sounds of the night surrounding you, you couldn’t help but glance at him, the weight of the future heavy between you both.

The journey was far from over...

© eyesofbong. All rights reserved. Do not plagiarize my work. If you see this content on any account that is not mine, please report it. My work is only available on this platform and on AO3 under the name @eyesofbong

[evorawrites]

Look at Me

Tw: Shalnark x reader, stalking, spying, masturbating, talk of kidnapping, hidden camera

1.6k words

The mission was over as fast as it started. It was straightforward and easy, the way he preferred. A nice chunk of money for a quick job. It had only taken him a few days to travel, do the job, and return. Coming back in time to watch his favourite little program.

Shalnark unlocked his house door, stepping into darkness. It was good to be home, nice to be back in the comfort of his home. Throwing his bag onto the floor, he headed towards his office. He could always unpack later. Right now, he only required one thing: his little program.

Opening his laptop and powering it on, Shalnark sat back in his chair. Excitement coursed through him as he watched the black screen light up. He typed in his password and waited to see the system turn on. Lighting up the screen was a video of a room. It contained a couch against a wall facing a TV. A coffee table was between the two, littered with some books—signs someone had been there recently.

Click

The box beside the larger one showed a separate room. This was clearly a kitchen, a table, and two chairs pushed into the corner. A fridge beside some counter space and a stove. The counters were empty and clean. No one was there.

Click

The next room was a bathroom, empty once again. The bedroom was the only one left.

Click

There was the subject of his chase, you. Sprawled out on the bed, lying on your stomach, scrolling on your phone. Shalnark watched you lying there. He hadn't seen you the last few days while he was off. Oh, how he missed this. He felt like a deprived animal, finally getting the meal it had been refused for days. His mouth watered. He treasured these moments with you. These brief periods of peace. Watching as you moved around your apartment. The way you went about your activities and routine. The way you sat on the couch crisscross. How you moved around your kitchen, listening to music as you cooked. The way you always jumped at the temperature of the shower, never learning your lesson of waiting outside the shower till the temperature was right. Or, like now, how you kicked your feet as you laid down. Shalnark found himself entranced with you. Falling for you over the months, he had been watching you. How could someone be so cute and innocent? You had no idea he was here, watching you in the dark. Enamoured with everything you did. You were clueless, just like the day he saw you.

Shalnark replayed that day. It was the first and last day he had actually spoken to you. He was out on a mission. A simple theft job of some artwork from some old millionaire. He had gone with a few troupe members. All he needed to do was get into the security system and find the blueprints for the house. Help create a smooth entrance and exit without drawing too much attraction. The job took barely an evening. While the others left, he stayed behind. Why not enjoy this cute little town? Stay for a few days, eat some good food. Shalnark decided to give himself a little vacation. A little vacation where he met you.

He had been out experiencing the uniqueness of the town. Taking in the architecture, the people, and the small shops. Entering them and enjoying the displays. One had a display of some puffer fish art and toys. He thought it was amusing how the suncatcher in the window had a puffed up fish with these wide eyes. Every day he walked past it to give himself a laugh. That was when he noticed, beside the store, was a coffee shop.

Ordering, he grabbed his drink, and he found himself a seat near the window. Watching as people shuffled in, out and about. Some sitting down and enjoying their drinks. Others hurry in and out. He enjoyed this, people watching, unwinding. Everyone was so different, living such a different lifestyle than him. So simple, so safe, so weak.

Shalnark laughed to himself. Thinking about how these people go along their day without anything interesting happening. They didn't have nen, they in reality had nothing. That was until you walked in. It was the second day of his little "rest." The coffee shop had the usual bustle when you walked in. At first, he didn't take notice too much. Sure, you were cute, but he wasn't here to flirt. He just wanted to relax and laugh at the shop windows.

You came in like anyone else. You sat down at a table and worked on your laptop like anyone else. Yet, after a while, he found himself having a hard time looking away. You looked so focused doing whatever it was you did. Making these faces he thought were cute. So focused, so intuned with what you were doing. Like the rest of the world was fading away. He admired that. He understood being into your work. You didn't even look up when the idiot a few tables down spilled his drink and let out a yelp. Your head still down, working away. How oblivious you were, it really wasn't safe. Someone could approach with ill intention so easily before you noticed.

Shalnark's mind began to wander. How close could he get before you looked up? How much danger would need to be around before you realized? If someone fell in front of you, would you look up then? He wasn't proud of how much mental space you took up, yet here he was. Thinking about some random girl in a coffee shop. A cute girl in a coffee shop.

That was how it started, small little thoughts that just spiraled. One became two, two became four. Thoughts on what would make you look up. Wondering how he could get your attention. It wasn't until the third day that he finally decided to give in. To allow himself to indulge in some of his thoughts. Turns out all he had to do was turn on his charm to get your attention. Smile, flatter, joke. Your smile was so pretty. The way your face glowed when you laughed at his joke. The scrunch in your nose when he made a bad but amusing joke. How you opened up so easily to him. It was fun having someone like this. He knew he had you after that day.

Sadly, he had only managed to get two coffee dates with you before Chrollo had requested his presence. He'd be lying if he said he was happy to leave. You had just become his new little play thing, his favourite little toy. Something controlled in a different way than his other toys.

Here he was, watching you on the screen. Laughing, enjoying life. Shalnark hated to admit he was getting upset that something besides him was pulling those gorgeous noises from you. Throwing his head back in his chair. The memories of the coffee shop flooded his mind. Shalnark pinched his nose, going over all those beautiful memories. The sounds, the jokes you two made. The way you would look at him, a complete stranger with so much enjoyment. His free hand began to make its way down his torso, undoing his belt. This was so wrong, so very wrong, but since when did he give a shit about right and wrong. He was a thief and a murderer, a phantom troupe member. What was right was whatever he wanted.

His hand was wrapped around his dick. Pumping like a depraved madman. Fuck, he missed you. Missed your beautiful smile. How you trusted him so much, a total stranger. You had given him your number after a few hours the first day. So foolish and cute.

He looked at the computer. You were still there, still on the bed kicking your legs. His eyes dragged across your body, from your head to your toes. The way your shoulders were pirked up as your forearms supported your upper body. The arch in your back made his mind race. Would you arch your back for him?

Shalnark began to move his hand faster. The way you displayed yourself on the screen, settled on your bed. Without a care in the world. You had no idea someone was watching you. That he had cameras all over your apartment to monitor you. To watch you eat, drink, get dressed, shower. He wanted to watch every little detail of your life. To observe how you lived. It was so different than his. You had the same day every day. Work, eat, rest, repeat. A sense of stability that was boring to him, but fun to watch.

Would you like some change? How would you react if your work had less stability? Would you travel with him for his work? His mind raced once again. Picturing you with him. Him coming back from a job to you waiting for him instead of an empty house. Waiting with your back arched just like now, warm, welcoming. His hand moved quicker, rougher. His breath picked up. He couldn't help the noises that left his lips. Moans of your name. Wanting, begging for you. He wanted you here, needed you here. You should be helping him, not his stupid hand.

Shalnark let out a cry of your name as he came. Watching as his cum spilled over his hand. Taking a moment to collect himself. Wiping his hair from his face that was plastered on with sweat. He looked back at you on the screen. Still in the same position. Laughing and relaxing. Oblivious that Shalnark just came to you. That he was planning your life together.

[illubean]

ooooh if i can request a fic or hc, can you do the phantom troupe or just chrollo, feitan, phinks, shalnark, and shizuku (if its too many for all the phantom troupe) with like an angelic fem s/o like full on wings and halo and her nen ability is healing?

(if u dont like it its fine :) have a good day everyday! sending virtual hugs!!!)

Phantom Troupe w/ an Angelic!S/o

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor, Shalnark, Shizuku Murasaki Type: Headcanons, written Fem!Reader in mind

this has been marinating in the drafts for a while whoopsies

Warnings: some toxic behaviors

Chrollo Lucilfer

ngl he's prob thought of just stealing your nen then killing you and preserving your wings

butttttt you were interesting to him so he decided against it

he decided it was more worth it to keep you around then have to go through the trouble of all of that

did he massacre an entire clan for their eyeballs? well yeah but like...they weren't THAT special to him

but you?

he thought you were gorgeous

and he was intrigued by your very existence

after you start dating and you start trusting him he probably just locks you up somewhere under the pretense of "keeping you safe" aka making sure no one can kill the troupe's personal medic

despite that he still treats you very well

he likes to bring you stolen gifts and shower you in praise whenever he gets the chance

if he could make a cult around you he probably would

Feitan Portor

very confused how someone meant to be the epitome of pureness ended up with him of all people

he is one of the more viscous members of the troupe

seriously, you chose HIM????

thinking about it brings him to...not so appropriate territory

all I will say is he is a wee bit perverted and his brain is going down the corruption route

n e wayzzz he's probably scared to touch you when you first get together

you're just so pretty and delicate that he doesn't want to hurt you

he often comes to you when he's wounded and won't say a word about it

whenever you touch him while healing him his face dusts a light pink and he has to avoid eye contact <3

he may get a wee jealous if you tend to the other troupe members

sometimes when he's on missions he won't dodge attacks that he could've easily just for an excuse to have you touch and tend to him again (you could've just asked babes)

Shalnark

another confused one but not as self deprecating as Feitan

like why are you with him he's a criminal but also he's not THAT bad right???

he probably asks you if he's going to hell when he dies

actually he asks you tons of questions in general

like how does your nen work, how did you get your wings/halo, how did you end up walking around on earth like every other human??

he is very curious like shinee

sometimes he likes to just stare at you

and he especially likes to watch you work

he is amazed by your healing abilities every time

but most of all he likes watching you do mundane things

like watering the flowers outside or setting out food for stray cats

he thinks you are adorable

Shizuku Murasaki

upon first meeting i see this going one of two ways

either your appearance is so unique that she cannot forget you

or she forgets you a few times and thinks she died but didn't remember

you have to reassure her that no, she is not seeing things and she is not dead

she wishes she can keep you all to herself; not because of your powers but because of how ethereal you are

she thinks your too perfect for the public eye

when she has the chance and if you let her she likes to pet the soft feathers on your wings

[ros3maryt3a]

Hiiii, could I please ask for how you think the Phantom Troupe would act to being hugged / held by their S/O for the first time? Thanks 🥰

WOAH I FORGOT ABOUT THIS ONE-

It’s been done for like months now I just entirely forgot to post it I’m so sorry Anon.

-

I’m here for the fluffy ideas (I will warn, I feel like these are a tad Ooc as this is mainly based on my own personal headcannons woven into snippets of what we see in HxH) it’s nice to write them!! I’m gonna admit I haven’t written anything in a dang hot minute so this was: interesting to proofread.

Characters: Chrollo, Feitan, Pakunoda, Shalnark (I know that’s not a lot compared to my other 2 but I was flagging so hard for ideas)

Chrollo

Despite his occasional interest in domestic life and the comforts that came with it, Chrollo never pushed for physical contact.

You’d sat down together before, reading under candlelight, but had never really been lovey dovey. It wasn’t a prevalent concept within the Troupe.

Which is why, when you’re sat beside each other -both enthralled in your own separate texts- a slight jolt races through him as your palm meets the top of his hands (your thumb absentmindedly tracing circles). It was nothing major: nothing that was noteworthy. his eyes barely left the page before him, but, it was nice.

However, when your book settles on the floor and your arms wrap around him. Well, that he can’t not notice. At first the scene is quite awkward, or to him, it’s not like he’s never been hugged before: more the lack of preparation. Chrollo’s shoulders were raised and his hands seemed to struggle to find their place. It’s not like you’d particularly notice this, the small fumble is a fleeting moment.

Once the initial shock had settled though, the two of you lay comfortably together. His head resting agaisnt yours and yours resting agaisnt his shoulder.

Let me tell you, though he may not have shown it, his heart skipped a couple beats. Having you agaisnt him, arms laying around his waist, it was a slice of domestic bliss he truly savoured. The life his city had given him was a life he did cherish, but the spark of normalcy you provided was always a treat. (You’d later find out: this would be a regular occurance anytime you read together; any attempts to protest against the idea would be immediately shot down.)

Feitan

Feitan isn’t big on touch. Never has been.

He prefers all his limbs free to move, he’s an agile person who heavily values his own self autonomy and being able to react in a matter of milliseconds. Nothing more than simple handholding (for no more than a specified 3 minutes 24 seconds) has passed between you two.

So, when you practically jump at him with open arms: he seizes up.

Seriously, you almost gave him a heart attack.

“Off.” “Off now.” Is all that would be said as he tries to pry you off from whoever you’d latched on. Safe to say: the first time you give him a hug is certainly an interesting event.

Don’t get me wrong, you don’t miss the way his eyes dart towards you; and how almost immediately his body eases once the initial shock had faded. Nor do you miss the way: he does indeed reciprocate the act.

A mixture of happiness and annoyance fill him in equal measure. On one hand: the sudden contact had dusted his skin a slightly reddish hue, for all his protests, Feitan’s well aware it’s a show of comfort and given your relationship: it’s not an action he particularly hates. On the other hand? No.

This moment does however, spark the slow build up to your first “proper” hug (and the many more things that would follow)

For now though? It’s best you don’t try that again. For a while.

A long while.

Shalnark

Surprisingly tense.

You’d think a member so seemingly well composed would be better equipped to hug his partner. But, no!

It takes about a minute for him to actually reciprocate the hug, a series of awkward pats meeting your back before he (not at all subtly) peels you off of him.

It’s almost like the action completely resets him, as in a matter of seconds he’s laughing and pulling you in for another hug. The scene is…sweet enough. Though, the action is swift with the two of you parting (again) and Shalnark instead slipping his hand over yours: fingers intertwining as he began to jump from topic to topic.

Physical touch (especially that of unprompted physical touch) is an odd spot for Shalnark. Sometimes, he loves it! A goofy grin is sure to paint his face as he reciprocates the action. Sometimes, it seems like a completely foreign subject to him.

Pakunoda

This woman adores you.

Completely and utterly.

The second your arms wrap around her: she is beaming and quick to reciprocate the action.

Arguably the most openly emotional. It may just be a hug but it makes her heart flutter! Her arms come to rest upon shoulders as she pulls you in close, the act a rather jovial scene. A simple smile is painted upon her face the whole time, it’s honestly quite surprising that such an act could light her up like a child on Christmas.

Any surprise your hug may have sparked is almost immediately washed away the second she realises what’s happening.

As with any of the members: her lightbulb moment is slow. None of them are particularly touchy individuals after-all. However, Paku is certainly the quickest in her return of your hug.

After the moment you’ll find her fingers laced between yours more often than not..

—

I feel like there’s more I could do with this idea but I’m entirely sure how to lay it out in the scenario/headcannon based format these are usually in, so, who knows! If someone wants a oneshot of the idea with a specific troupe member I’ll be happy to deliver-

[0asisbliss]

It was hard, but for you a new start was ahead even if you had to leave behind a man that you adored and loved so much. It made you even sadder to see the fact that he moved on faster than you ever would have. Some part of your heart is still hanging on to his by a thread. Although he cut it a while ago you’re just sitting there holding it wondering if he’ll ever come back and attach it back to his.

Cosmo, Agito, OHMA, Raian, Kaolan, (KA) Chrollo, Feitan, KURAPIKA, Phinks, SHALNARK, (HXH) Monoma, BAKUGO, Denki, Aizawa, KEIGO, (MHA) GOJO, Geto, Sukuna, Megumi, Yuuta, Higuruma, (JJK) Eren, Levi, Reiner, (AOT) Baki, Katsumi, (BAKI) Dazai, Chuuya,

[skyyletai]

Your limbs are almost frozen, you can’t feel your fingers. desperately trying to maintain at least some warmth, you nervously peek at your “interlocutor”. And he sees it.

"Aren't you cold, dear?" he looks at you expectantly, smiling, without blinking.

"No."

If you squint, you can see the disappointment flashing in his eyes.

“Victory,” you thought mockingly, shivering from the cold.

[jjkamochoso]

I finally think I've come up with a request for Shalnark! Actually, it was an idea for Feitan first because requesting for Shalnark feels... odd. Anyways, could I request a Shalnark x Female Reader who's doting? Like she isn't overbearing or anything, but if she's not busy in her own world, she's by his side tending to the slightest of injuries or complimenting his appearance that day. I'll probably go right back to Feitan after this hahaha... Thank you for your time and effort, take as long as you need!! <( ´▽` )>

Ahh this was so much fun to write!! I hope I was able to capture Shalnark’s personality okay here since it was my first time writing for him🥰 and I’m sorry this took as long as it did, I really hope you love the story!!🫶❤️ thanks for all your support and kind comments💕

My Love for You Shall(nark) Never Cease

Fluff

Shalnark x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of minor injury, one small mention of killing

The hideout was quiet, which makes sense since you were the only one there. Pakunoda, Uvogin, and Shalnark were sent on a mission a few days ago while the rest of the Phantom Troupe were off doing… you weren’t sure what, but you figured they were keeping busy. You decided to enjoy the rare moments of peace by indulging in your favorite hobbies while everyone was away. You often found yourself daydreaming, an activity that was easiest for you to partake in when there was nothing but silence around you. You thought of spectacular worlds and created countless scenarios in your head.

Though the topic always seemed to circle back to a specific blonde haired man.

Over the time you had known him, you’d began to harbor a crush on Shalnark. His big green eyes and contagious laugh made your heart flutter every time you were near him. You would do anything to be blessed by the sight of his radiant smile which meant you often showered him with compliments. Your train of thought wandered into the depths of your memory, your mind replaying a treasured moment with the man.

“Good morning, Shalnark!” you had greeted warmly as you ate breakfast one day before a mission.

“Good morning, y/n!” he said back, just as enthused. Even though it was early, he was bright eyed and bushy tailed as usual. He grabbed the open box of cereal from the table and poured some into one of the few chipped bowls the Troupe had lying around in the hideout. Your group had been there for a while and it was nice to have a place like that to call home for as long as possible. Shalnark took a seat next to you, ready to dig into his meal. You took the time to really admire him up close; your eyes traced over his facial features, committing them to memory (you swore that if you died, his face would be the only one you’d want to see in your final moments). The slope of his nose, the upturn of his lips—he was stunning. There was no way you couldn’t compliment him! He deserved to know he was being noticed by others for his beauty and you hoped maybe one day he would take notice of yours as well.

“Your hair looks really nice today,” you told him, a kind tone to your voice. You heard him slightly choke on his cereal.

“Who? M-me?” he asked, sputtering and coughing. You tilted your head, a bit confused by his reaction.

“We’re the only ones out here,” you remarked, a small giggle filling the awkward silence.

“Oh! You’re right.” His cheeks were a bright red and it didn’t seem like it was from his previous lack of air. He cleared his throat. “Thank you. Yours does, too. Look nice, I mean.”

Shalnark’s spoon went immediately back into his mouth, crunching away on the cereal. You couldn’t contain the smile that took up residence on your lips, your heart thumping in your chest. If there was one thing you knew about Shalnark, it was that he was brutally honest and he wouldn’t compliment you if he didn’t mean it. If there was one thing you didn’t know but just learned about him, though, it was that he gets easily flustered by compliments.

Since then, you always made sure to compliment him to no end.

You loved to dote on the man and after his initial reactions of embarrassment, he’d started to embrace it, eagerly beaming when he heard what sweet words you had for him whenever you saw him. It became a regular occurrence for you to compliment him, from physical appearance to nen ability, and, on occasion, his driving skills. It was your favorite part of the day and quickly turned into his as well.

Since he had been on this mission, though, you hadn’t had the chance to talk to him at all. You liked this alone time, sure, but you missed your interactions with your favorite blonde.

You sighed, picking up a book. Maybe this time you could read a couple more chapters without getting distracted by your heart’s desires…

All of a sudden, you heard loud noises at the hideout entrance. Before you could even worry, you heard Shalnark’s trademark laugh and you grinned from ear to ear.

They were back!

You quickly stood to welcome the trio home, but your smile faltered at the scene in front of you. Shalnark locked eyes with you and let out a pained sound, which didn’t surprise you with the way he looked extremely banged up. What had gone wrong on the mission?

“Well? Aren’t you going to say how amazing I look?” he said, laughing before grimacing, holding a hand to his ribs.

“Shalnark! Are you alright?” you asked, hurriedly racing to his side. Pakunoda and Uvogin shared knowing looks as they left the common area, most likely going to treat their own injuries or sleep for the rest of the day; whatever would lead them to not be involved in any of the lovesick antics between the two of you.

You guided Shalnark to a chair at the kitchen table.

“I’m getting the first aid kit. I’ll be right back, okay?” you told him as he nodded in understanding.

“Show me where it hurts,” you said when you came back, opening the kit.

“My ribs are bruised but they’ll be fine,” he explained. “I have a cut on the back of my arm, though.”

“I’ll clean it up, don’t worry,” you replied, sending a gentle smile to him. He returned the gesture until you cleaned the wound, causing him to hiss in pain.

“I’m sorry! It’ll be over in a second, I promise,” you consoled him. You figured it would be best to talk him through the pain. “How did you end up in such bad shape?”

“I got… distracted,” he confessed. “I got hit from behind. Not to worry, I killed them really fast!”

“That’s my boy,” you teased, applying a bandage over the cut. “There, you’re all good to go. Here’s some pain medicine for your ribs.”

He thanked you for the medicine, swallowing the pills with a gulp.

“So what causes the great Shalnark to become distracted in the first place? You’re one of the most disciplined men I know,” you wondered. You spied the tips of his ears turning red.

“I was thinking about you. It was early in the morning and I had been missing hearing you compliment me during the past few days,” he admitted. Now it was your turn to blush.

“O-oh,” you breathed out, not sure what the correct thing was to say. “I would’ve called you but… I wouldn’t have wanted to bother you.”

“See, you’re always thinking of others and I like that about you,” Shalnark remarked. You weren’t used to being on the receiving end of the compliments between you two and you kept your eyes downcast on the table until you felt a hand lightly touch your own. You glanced up to see his green eyes glittering as he smiled.

“I don’t compliment you enough and that stops today. Y/n, I think you’re caring and kind, and I love how you always take care of me. I think you’re very beautiful and it’s amazing how you brighten up any room you walk into.”

You felt your heart swell up with love and your eyes well up with happy tears. “Shalnark, I… don’t know what to say.”

He chuckled. “That’s alright, you know exactly what to say every other day.” After a few moments he stood, not yet moving his hand from yours. “How about whenever I wake up next, we grab a meal together?”

You shook your head. “I’d like that very much.”

“Cool!” Shalnark gave you a thumbs up and a wink. “I’m going to get some well needed shut eye.”

You stood too, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Sleep well, Shalnark. You worked really hard and deserve good rest.”

He brought his fingertips to where your lips previously were, wearing a stupefied grin. “I never want to go that many days without hearing you say things like that again.”

[rotten-pomegranate]

Hey no idea if your head canons are open but could you do shalnark nsfw and sfw head canons 🙏

…

Shalnark nsfw and sfw headcannons

Yes queen

Warnings: somophilia, smut, dubcon (pressuring)

Tags: @shalscumbunny

/|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\

Sfw

Loves snuggling but can not fall asleep with someone touching him, all cuddly and cute and then he falls asleep and your getting pushed to the corner of the bed

Not a big fan of spicy food, he’ll eat it if served to him but he would never order it on a menu

Plays a lot of video games, loves it, wants you on his lap while he does it, and support from under the desk is fine too

Doesn’t like hair touching the back of his neck, can’t stand it, puts it up in the smallest little pony tail

Can cook pretty good, can’t bake though, might burn down the kitchen trying to bake, is a big fan of when you bake and bring him what you made, wearing a cute little apron he got you, holding a cute little tray for him is one of his favourite sights

Watches anime with you, even if your don’t like it, he doesn’t care

He’s really selfish, doesn’t share his food and doesn’t make room on the couch or bed for you unless you practically beg

He Doesn’t like animals, doesn’t want them in his house or anywhere near him, thinks they smell bad, and also doesn’t understand how anyone else could want them

Nsfw

He really likes holding your hair in a tight fist, not quite pulling just tightly gripping, if you pull away it’ll turn into pulling though

He’s a boob man, loves them, loves leaving hickeys all over them every time you have sex

Loves exploring stuff, will try anything at least once, if you don’t wanna try something but he does he’ll pressure you into doing it, that or he’ll hold something expensive he bought you over you head

He loves pegging, has so many orgasms without spilling a drop of cum, it gets even better when you ride him after to bring release to his heavy balls

Has you ride his abs on a weekly basis, and his thigh, he loves seeing you grind and chase your own pleasure, and if you think you done after you orgasm your so wrong, you can’t be the only one to have fun

Wants you to suck his dick while he’s on his computer, doesn’t even say anything just snaps in your direction and points between his legs most of the time

And one last thing is he hates using a condom, will whine and beg until you just cave and let him fuck you without one, he’ll pay for your birth control that’s how much he hates them, feels like it takes away from his experience

[rayray-2ice]

HxH from Temu (HxH crackfic)

So, like— is anyone interested in a silly x fem!reader fanfic? Book is called “HxH from Temu” by me on Wattpad. My user is BimuPotter.

Love interest: Kurapika (he is 18 in this), Hisoka, Illumi, Wing, Kastro, Chrollo, Feitan, Shalnark and Phinks

I’ve already published 3 chapters, chapter four is ready and is being edited and chapter 5 is in the works. (Description bellow)

Y/n gets isekai'd into HxH, finding herself standing in front of an elevator which opened up to reveal Hisoka.

In confusion, she steps in and it takes her down and to the 287th Hunter Exam.

Join Y/n as she: embarrasses her cat, gives Kurapika a migraine, somehow doesn't die, steals hearts and souls, makes Killugon, Leopika and Hisoillu fanart, kidnaps, gets kidnapped, goes to jail, and accidentally becomes an auction item!

[z0-ne]

WEB (Phantom troupe fic!)

Phantom troupe fanfic (platonic Chrollo. This is a Shalnark and Phinks x reader)

Tw: Stalking, mentions of past trauma, Chrollo is not a good person, alcohol, and foul language.

_______________________________________________

If you could ever make a wish and it would come true no matter how big or small. 

What would you wish for?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Souhait, I assure you I'm gonna be fine,"

you repeated for the second time within an hour while getting ready to go out with some friends tonight.

They've been against this since the last time they discussed it, and while you can understand their reasoning, it was your birthday today, and you haven't seen them all in so long

"No...No..."

Whispered a floating shadow-like figure with no face, or hair, and pitch black skin dressed in a red oversized sweater and grey sweatpants with socks.

They were curled into a ball, head resting on their knees, arms covering their forehead, feet crossed over each other, and floating right above your bed.

"Oh come on... Don't you trust me?"

You questioned as you finally put the earring on after struggling for what seemed to be five minutes or more. Now turning to face the figure who sat up at your question as if they were caught off guard by it.

"Yes...But I...do not trust them.Tonight one will betray you...I can feel it..."

As they spoke, lights began to flicker and lamps began to float. All while keeping that same position as earlier. The deep disliking they had for your friends always worried you, and it was the reason why you all hardly hung out.

They were also somewhat violent towards one of them. Not physically but they were verbally upset with their presence and made it known every time they spoke to them.

Souhait was someone you trusted more than anyone else in the world, but you haven't gone out in so long and they'd been begging you for a while.

"Betray...?"

The word alone put a slight lump in your throat.

"...yes...Betray...-"

Usually, you'd heed their words and prepare to cancel the plans and move away. Far away from the city at the mere mention of betrayal. Could be a trauma response, but you don't want to think that far.

It made you feel sick and reminded you of something you wished to forget, but...

"Victoria wanted me to go...and.."

It would've made you feel bad if you said no.

Looking up from the floor, and wiping your sweaty palms onto a paper towel. You put on a smile and came up with a solution.

"Well, then how about you come with me?"

You suggested, in an effort to calm them down or bring them temporary comfort, and maybe even get them out of the apartment for a little while. Even if it was to just go to some party. The last time they left the house was during high school.

"I...would've gone...anyways...Keep watch..."

It seemed like it worked, the lights went back to normal and the lamps floated back to the table and she stayed hovering in the air, now floating away from your bed and beside the closed window.

"Well then get ready, I'll wait for you ok?"

"Melt...I will just...melt..find clothes...later.."

"Seriously? How will you blend in?"

Just then, they began to drip black ooze onto the floor as their body began to melt into a pool of black ooze, bubbling slightly as they moved across the floor and towards you, their cold body touching your ankle when they got close.

They left their clothes flat on the floor as if they were just thrown there like dirty laundry.

"Oh- the shadow thing!"

Slowly the puddle began to fade into the ground and reshape itself into your shadow.

"That's such a cool trick!"

"Thank...you..."

You smiled down at them before you walked towards the front door, grabbed your keys, and then put your shoes on. You had a bag with a few things in it, that would hopefully be of use just in case, and the regular things in there as well.

"Okay...I'm sure I've got everything.."

"I slipped...something into your- Pocket."

"Thanks, Souhait!" you chirped, gratefully.

Turning around and opening the door, you walked out and locked it behind you. You lived on the highest floor in the apartment so when going downstairs you usually took the elevator, rather than the fourteen flights of stairs.

Not to mention the elevator you took was one rumored to give out at random times, so nobody used this one in specific, they took the other one down the other way of the hallway. To think that city folk was so superstitious, was so funny.

The elevator never played music, and the lights would flicker every now and then, so it was no wonder why people would want to stray away from it. However, these things all happened thanks to you.

"An elevator to ourselves is heavenly."

"No..awkward...talk..or strangers..."

You giggled against your hand and nodded.

"All thanks to you."

Now heading down the hall and into the lobby where there were few people either sitting down. walking out or walking in. Nothing too strange on the outside, but something felt weird this time around.

"Careful...I sense..danger..."

Souhait whispered in your ear as you were walking towards the door, digging through your purse to check for anything you may have forgotten. You perked your head upwards, and without glancing at them you relaxed.

"How close is it?"

You asked, wondering who or what could've been so dangerous that they would have to alert you instead of just ignoring it, but knowing how they felt about leaving in the first place, you figured something may be wrong.

As you kept walking you passed a small group of people and one bumped into you as you walked past.

"Oh- Sorry-"

A slightly deep gruff, familiar voice spoke and turned halfway to look at you.

A chill went down your spine as time seemed to slow down for a split second, not even wanting to look at whoever you just bumped into, but taking a glance regardless and catching a glimpse of blonde hair. Whoever it was had looked and felt familiar, they could be seen as a threat.

Not to mention that they meant you no good in your current lifestyle.

You closed your eyes and turned your head as you smiled and waved it off, not wanting to anger or set off whoever it was by being rude.

"It's alright! Have a good night!"

Without giving him too much time to answer, you calmly walked away from him and towards the door. Hoping you didn't seem too suspicious, at least not to him rather than to the people surrounding you.

That chilling feeling never left as you approached the door and felt those eyes staring you down, as the room seemed to fall silent and you could only hear your footsteps rather than the many people inside the building.

Luckily you made it outside in a matter of seconds that only felt like hours. Clutching your pursed between your fingers, you took a deep breath of fresh air and kept walking down the sidewalk as normal.

However, your heart felt like it'd jump out of your body and down the nearest sewer drain.

"Blonde hair...Souhait is that-"

"...Yes...but...Calm down... He seemed...Busy...."

While their words were slightly comforting, it wasn't enough to completely get you to relax. Where would you guys go if things went wrong? You scouted the area, but not enough to completely throw them off if something goes wrong.

If he caught a glimpse of you and thought about thirty seconds then he'd remember and recognize you. They'd be after you all night if they figured out thanks to that one interaction. In that case, you would have to find another place to sleep.

Then again, Maybe it wasn't all that bad. What are the chances of them following you anyways?

It was zero to none. Right?

"(Name)! They....are watching.."

Cursing in your head, you picked up the pace and kept your eyes forward as if you didn't hear what Souhait whispered. You spoke under your breath, in a hushed tone so nobody else could hear what was being said.

"Who?"

"I can assume they are working for him...some are familiar others not so much...Do not...run..yet.."

Hearing them whisper all this made nothing better, you could feel your blood chill, sending shivers down your spine as you continued to the spot you were told to meet. A bus stop that was a few feet away from your apartment.

The excuse was that the driver wouldn't stop in front, but they didn't need to get a limo anyway, it was probably Victoria's idea. It would draw attention to you and probably make this situation much worse.

As you got closer you could hear someone calling your name, it was close and when you looked up a girl was waving at you from the car, with pale skin, blonde hair, and brown eyes. She smiled as she waved you towards the car.

"Hey! (Name)! Hurry your ass up! We don't wanna be late!"

"Now...Go!"

Right as Souhait whispered/yelled for you to run, you picked up the pace and sped towards the car, quickly being pulled in by the girl who called after you earlier.

Engulfed into a tight hug, it was nearly suffocating but it was so comforting to finally have reached the car.

When you got in one other person was sitting beside her.

A pale man with brown long hair tied back into a bun who had blue eyes, his name was Jio. Jio sat by the window on the far left.

 Which was a lot better in this case considering that was the last place you wanted to sit.

Vincent was bald, with purple eyebrows and slightly slanted pink eyes, he was the tallest one there and also the most muscular. His muscles were made from mass, so he was wide and looked intimidating when he stood up.

Vincent sat across from you.

Victoria was the girl who called you over earlier, also Vincent's sister. She sat on your right, sandwiching you between her and Jio.

"So! No more fake IDs for you! How do you feel?"

Jio blurted out nearly as soon as the river pulled off, and you scoffed halfheartedly in response before answering his little question.

You probably would've been a tad bit more excited about this had you not run into those people earlier, so for that reason, you didn't even feel like drinking all too much tonight if you did at all.

"I'm glad I made it this far but I don't really-

Suddenly you felt someone put their arm over your shoulder and heard Jio grunt in pain, looking over you saw victoria glaring at him as she pulled you over closer to her and further away from him.

"Hey! You dumbass! Say Happy birthday to my darling (Name)!"

Victoria slung her arm over your shoulders as she dramatically slumped her head on top of yours, cradling you into her chest as she scolded Jio.

"Jeez! I was getting to that!"

Jio yelled out in response to Victoria's scolding. You chuckled again before looking over at Vincent, the oddly quiet one, and it worried you a little especially since he was never one to be so silent.

He'd usually stop Jio and Victoria from arguing, but tonight he looked...especially intimidating. It worried you. everything worried you right now.

"(Name)...Where...are...we going..."

Souhait Whispered into your ear and it made you think. Nobody told you where you were going, they just gave you a time and said there would be a house party of some sort but this isn't what you expected.

"Hey Victoria, where are we going?"

"Huh? Oh, I don't know, Vincent said he planned it all but he won't tell us anything! Says we talk too much!"

Victoria threw her right hand in the air and shook her head to the side as she rolled her eyes at the mention of her brother's words.

"Really?"

"Yeah! The nerve!"

You looked over at Vincent who smiled at you while Victoria ranted, you felt another chill go down your back.

It wasn't like he's never smiled before. Vincent's usually a sweetheart, always smiling but tonight was just different for some reason..his smile felt off...

"Vincent, where are we going?"

You weren't going to hesitate to ask him that. Not only did you want answers, but you also NEEDED them.

"...Can't say, it'll ruin the surprise."

You were suspicious about his answer, you didn't usually feel too uncomfortable around him. After all, Vincent was the most responsible in the group except for Souhait, and he seemed like someone you could trust.

Not to mention he was older by three years now.

You only hoped that it would stay that way and not backfire on you somehow.

After that, he was silent the rest of the ride, and so was Souhait. You couldn't understand why they were so quiet, but you just assumed that Souhait was thinking and Vincent didn't want to ruin the surprise.

Soon the car finally stopped, and Victoria opened the door for you, and then covered your eyes with her hands.

"Hey- Wait! Victoria I can't see!"

"That's the point of a surprise! Now come on and let me lead you in!"

It was a sweet gesture. You could understand why Victoria in specific was so excited to help you inside.

She's been the party planner since you met her and every year she's planned you a surprise party, and now she's letting her older brother do it.

If you had a family like hers, you'd be excited too.

"I don't think you should lead anyone/"

"Oh eat my ass Jio."

" you're so worried then grab their hand so they don't run into anything."

You chuckled as you walked along with Victoria and Jio. One kept your eyes covered and the other was holding onto your hand. Vincent was behind and walking slowly, you didn't know why and Souhaits silence concerned you.

As you got closer to wherever you guys were going, the air got colder, and the music got louder. So loud you could eventually feel it in your gut and chest as the bass boosted off the walls. Still, you continued to walk, now taking deep breaths.

"They...are no longer here..."

The sound of their words made you relax your muscles and let out a breath you had no idea that you were holding in. It made following Victoria and Jio much easier, still scary but not as much as before.

Knowing you would go to a possible public place with a possible stalker issue? It made this outing so much more of a hassle than it already was, and it didn't help your nerves that Vincent was acting so strange.

As you continued to walk, loud music, the smell of sweat and alcohol, and cold air all hit you at once causing you to flinch back, Yet with Victoria stopping right behind you, you couldn't get too far.

Finally, you heard Vincent's deep voice mutter some words, his tone alone still set chills down your spine.

"Happy birthday"

[starlitiris]

Hi, I wanted to say I adore your writing!! You don't have to do this request if you don't want to, but I'd love to hear your headcannons for how the troupe (or specifically Uvo, Pakunoda, and Shalnark) react to an s/o that likes to give them love bites♡ (Not sexually, just affectionate biting!)

I sincerely apologize for being months late to this holy shit, I had a lot of shit going on right after i got this ask and i was just tired and OUGH but here it is

I hope my goofy ass writing makes up for the wait </3 and I hope I didn’t make them too out of character 😭 been a minute since I wrote for hxh

And ty for enjoying my writing i’m very glad that you do!!!

If anyone wants me to do this for other hxh characters, phantom troupe or otherwise, LMK!!! I’d love to give that a shot >:)

Love Bites! (Phantom Troupe Headcanons)

Shalnark

- I can imagine you and Shal are cuddling on the couch in the home you share

- He has an arm around you, holding you close while he scrolls through whatever on his phone

- You don’t know what he’s looking at. Nor do you care. You want attention.

- You gently grab the hand that’s on you and CHOMP

- Well. It’s not really a CHOMP. It’s just a little nibble.

- “Huh?-“ He looks at you.

- He looks befuddled.

- But then he smiles!

- Intrigued and amused, he asks: “What are you doing?”

- “You’re not paying attention to me, so I’m making you,” you tell him with a devious little smirk

- “Oh, really?” The amusement in his expression morphs into something much more mischievous.

- “Uh huh,” you say before biting his fingers again, a little harder this time

- “Hey!” He shouts through a giggle

- He grabs one of your hands and bites YOU. Not any harder than you bit him, though. He wouldn’t wanna hurt his beloved <3

- You squeal and try to pull your hand away, but he doesn’t let you.

- He keeps nipping at you while you giggle and screech at him to stop

- Eventually he tackles onto your back on the couch

- He squishes your sides attacks your shoulder, neck and ear with playful nibbles

- “SHAL!” You laugh. “S-STOP IT!!”

- “What? I’m giving you attention now, isn’t this what you wanted?” He retorts before resuming his attack

- I’m sorry, Reader. You lost this battle.

Pakunoda

- Arghh your girlfriend/fiancée/wife is so pretty

- You adore her so much. Sooo so much that you cannot put it into words

- You can put it into actions, though!

- With the utmost love and care, you lift her hand to your face, kiss the back of her hand, and very very gently nibble on her dainty wrist.

- She makes a small noise indicating she was caught off guard, and she looks at you with a look of befuddlement

- “What on earth are you doing?” She asks

- You remove her wrist from your teeth and look up at her with a sweet lil smile. “Biting you.”

- “Why?” She raises an eyebrow at you.

- “Because I love you.”

- She stares

- And blinks

- Then smiles, emitting a chuckle

- “You are strange,” she tells you.

- “Does this bother you?” You ask, not wanting her to be uncomfortable.

- “Not at all, my love.”

- You grin and gently nibble at her wrist again.

- Strange as you may be, she finds you adorable.

- This will become a common occurrence.

Uvogin

- You and Uvo are having a picnic date!! Cute!!

- Right now you’re listening to him ramble on about a recent job he had

- He retells his favorite moments from the adventure enthusiastically

- You love watching him get enthusiastic and passionate about things. Even if it is, uh… theft and murder sometimes. But you find it charming!

- “-Anyway, you should’ve been there. It was the most fun I had on a job in a while!” He finishes his story and takes a big ol’ bite from his sandwich.

- An idea strikes you. Muhaha

- “Hey Uvo, gimme your hand,” you tell him, reaching out your own two hands to hold his massive one

- “Huh? Why?”

- “Just gimme. Give.”

- He gives you a questioning look before complying and giving his hand to you.

- You grab it, pull it closer to you and chomp one of his fingies

- You don’t bother with being gentle. The man has iron skin, you could probably bite him as hard as possible and it would barely tickle

- Uvogin snorts. “What the hell are you doing?”

- You let go. “What’s it look like?”

- “Why are you biting me?” He grins, finding your goofy ass to be very cute and charming as always.

- “Cause I wanna!” You bite him again.

- “Fuckin’ weirdo.” He lets you gnaw away at his hand and continues eating his sandwich.

- He snickers when you literally say “grr” as you’re biting him.

- He loves you. He loves you and all your quirks.

Sorry if this was too short but i hope you enjoyed nonetheless 🕺

[eyesofbong]

(!☆!: Reader is written as a female)

Ch. 1: The Fallen Shepherd is out now!

Author's Note: This is a rewritten version of an old idea I had planned for a fic/series, sparked by sudden inspiration and a plethora of ideas, as it takes place before the events of the York New Arc. I plan to update chapters weekly. As for now, here is the summary!

You were once a well-known Hunter, a name whispered with respect and fear alike, until you vanished, leaving your past behind. But when a young man’s tragic story awakens old wounds, you return, determined to finish one last job. Disguised as a devout follower, you infiltrate a quiet town where a beloved priest hides in plain sight. You soon recognize the ghost of the child you once cared for haunting the Phantom Troupe leader in question. As you walk the fine line between duty and personal guilt, you must decide: can you bring down the monster he’s become, or will the weight of your own failures trap you in his web?

[sweetheart4you]

Could I request a Shalnark (hxh) x male neko tsundere reader?

M!readers part of the phantom troupe.

Also m!reader likes to sleep alot cuz he's he's part cat, he's also pretty stubborn.

Shalnark might be a bit ooc, and it might not be very good, lol.

Shalnark would absolutely love petting your ears. He went on a stressful mission? He's cuddling his favorite kitten and petting his ears.

Obviously, you would be cold to Shalnark when you first met, but after a couple of months, he gained your affection. You're still cold to most of the Troupe though.

You only let your guard down and sleep around Shalnark, which makes him so happy. He's always willing to protect you while you sleep by him.

This man would call you things like “Kitten”, “Baby”, “Darling”, “Sweetheart”, and “Kitty”.

When you're being stubborn, Shalnark will withhold all cuddles and affection. That is if it's something like you're refusing to tell him what's wrong or refusing to get healed. If you're fighting with another Troupe member, he's not gonna do shit.

Don't get me started on if someone has a crush on you. Pretty soon after he finds out it'll be, someone who had a crush on you. They aren't going to live another day. You are his kitty. No one else's.

If you're FtM, he'll be so so sweet when you're on your period. All you get is praise, nothing less. He'll already be stocked up on whatever you need. Absolute angel.