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girlleon · 3 months

Text

TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT

leon kennedy x fem!reader.

warnings: emotional incest (daddy-daughter), dead parent, Leon’s ooc and kind of a pervert and a very unreliable narrator, reader is just a little bit too.

tumblr shadowbans posts that use nsfw tags, ergo the only tags I will use are in the post. content is below the read more and you’re responsible for your own media consumption. read at your own risk.

Your dad isn’t a bad guy. He’s, you know, inept in the way sitcom dads are. He has to ask you how the dishwasher runs when he sees you do it and it takes a couple times, but he figures it out in the end. Same thing with the washer and not having to separate out your reds and whites so you don’t make pink.

Leon’s just… he’s just a bit lonely. Mom died a decade back and now he walks around with half his heart in his hands and stares at you a little too long ‘cause you look just like her.

He tried dating but every woman he went out with could see his broken heart from a mile away and it was like seeing a dilapidated house, nobody wants a fixer-upper.

It’s no surprise to you when he starts hanging off you when you’re cooking for the two of you, big arms wrapped around your waist and cheek on your shoulder. Mom always said he was so clingy and would laugh every time she said that as he pressed his mouth to every place he could reach.

That was another thing too, she’d get playfully annoyed when she was wearing a strappy dress for some sort of work function and he’d damn near glue himself to her—body and mouth. She could never take it when he’d give her that kicked puppy look and reluctantly let go either.

Like mother, like daughter, you guess. You don’t shove him off or squirm free when he clings to you like a barnacle on a ship and you don’t complain because you damn well need the comfort too, even if you guys end up sharing a bed more often than not.

Your dad wasn’t very touchy when you were little, save for when you two were wrestling and he’d go a little too hard and wouldn’t let you up. You’d scream and cry when he wouldn’t let you out from under him and more often than not went crying to mom when she’d walk in.

But, anyway, he has that awkward demeanor of a guy who never got a hug from mommy when he was little. Hence why you never went to him when you wanted comfort, and mom was softer anyway, except for maybe a handful of times.

He told you once that he liked when you were sick because it meant you’d want his comfort, which stuck with you for a long while, but you’re past that, you’re a grown girl now.

Well, okay, it gets a little strange one day when he wraps himself around you like a vine from behind, fresh out of the shower. You get a whiff of him and pause, the wooden spatula freezing in the pan. He feels you stiffen up and lifts his head up, about to ask what’s wrong when you ask, “Is that my body wash?” sounding extremely scandalized and shocked.

Fuck, he never likes it when you’re shocked or angry or anything but happy with him. “Maybe.” Leon replies elusively, tightening his hold on you.

“Okay, what the fuck, dad?” You try to turn around but he holds tight. You stir faster, some rice slopping over the sides of the pan to burn on the electric burner. “Did you run out of yours, or something?”

“No.” Leon shakes his head, nose dragging across your clothed shoulder. “I just like the way yours smells.”

You make a face, unsure how to really respond to that. “Weirdo.” You decide after a while, shaking more soy sauce into the rice and stirring it around.

“Your mom never minded.” He huffs, pressing his nose to the crook of your neck and fighting a smile when your shoulders jump.

Your brows furrow and you turn off the burner with a click. “I’m not mom.” Comes out harsh, the spatula banging on the side of the pan to get the stray rice off.

Leon frowns, pressing his mouth to your shoulder for a moment. “I know, sweetheart.” He mumbles, straightening up and loosening his hold on you when you reach for the plates.

You frown too, lips pressing into a line as you dish out the food for yourself. He can damn well serve himself, he’s a grown ass man.

Dinner is a stiff affair, but he’s nice enough to do the damn dishes for his number one girl. “C’mere.” He tells you when he’s done, holding his arms out. You come over, of course, cheek squishing against his shoulder as you sag against him. You can never stay mad at that old oaf for long. “I miss her.” Dad murmurs by your ear, pretending not to notice the way your arms flare with goosebumps. Sensitive ears, you got that from him.

“I know, dad.” You mumble back, nose invaded by the orange scent of your body wash on him and his sharp-smelling aftershave. “I miss her too.” Enough time’s gone by that your voice doesn’t crack when you say that, but your throat aches all the same.

He squeezes you closer, resting his cheek on the top of your head, kissing it before laying his cheek back on your head.

Leon’s not a bad guy. You’re just the closest thing he’s got to a wife. And he really needs to get a fucking grip because he can’t keep walking around at half-mast because you called him dad. Like, what the hell else are you supposed to call him? Leon? Fuck no. You’re his kid and kids don’t call their parents by their first names, except for that creepy kid in The Ring, but that’s fake.

God, there’s something wrong with him, he’s got a couple screws loose or something that makes him react this way. He made you. He remembers going to all the ultrasound appointments and buying the prenatals and the damn cravings. He remembers holding you when your mother finally pushed you out, kissing her sweaty temple when you opened your little mouth and started crying because the world was too loud compared to the comfort of the womb.

And he remembers when little thirteen-year-old you dragged his sorry ass into the house after he collapsed on the lawn in a drunken stupor. He was in and out for a bit after you finally lugged him inside onto the couch and had to chase after the cat for good measure and bring her silly ass back in.

When he woke up, it was six in the morning and he had one of the worst hangovers of his life. There was already a little bowl on his blanketed lap in case he puked and you were curled up in a ball on the furthest side of the couch, snoozing away.

He let you stay home for the day and had an intervention with himself as you played nurse. Maybe that’s when shit got fucked up and lines got blurred. Somewhere along the way, some wires got crossed and you started sitting where your mom did, in addition to sleeping in their bed too.

He remains awake as you snore contentedly with your back to him, his chest firmly against your spine and hips against his. See, that’s another thing you got from him, those hips and perky ass. The more he thinks about it, you’re all him in all the best and worst ways.

Best ways: hips. Ass. Definitely legs too. You got his nose and his dimples and smile. And that little spring to your step that reminds him of the days before he transferred to the RCPD and came out of Raccoon City worse for wear. You make the same faces he does—got that nearly permanent furrow in your brow that he smooths out with his thumb and warns you that you’re too young for wrinkles. Sensitive ears too.

Worst ways: clingy. It was worse when you were young and always wanted to be around him. Jeez, he gets that you were a kid and all, but wow. Is it normal for kids to cling onto their dad’s calves and tell them not to go to work? Another thing, you’re so damn sensitive. Just one comment will throw you off and he’ll be begging for you to get back to normal. One time when you were twelve, he tried to spank you and he got the silent treatment for the rest of the night after you wiggled your way free, tears streaming down your little face. He slept on the couch because he felt so bad.

There is one thing though… Leon can pat himself on the back for making the perfect girl for him. You just share half his DNA, which makes things a little sticky.

You shift a little in your sleep, your ass pressing against his dick and he has to damn near bite his tongue bloody so he doesn’t make a noise because you’re asleep. More often than not, he has to go rub one out in the bathroom and feel guilty because all that can get him off is thoughts of you.

He tries out dating apps again a couple days after that. “Honey?” He calls out as you’re in the kitchen putting the dishes away.

“What?” Ugh, he hates that, you should just come over here when he calls out for you. When he doesn’t respond, you groan so loudly he can hear you from two rooms over, walking over to where he sits on the couch with those bifocals. “What, dad?”

“Can you help me set up my Tinder profile?” He has to hold in a smirk when you do a double take and shift your weight between your feet, gaze falling down to your bare legs because you decided to torment him and wear those stupid bike shorts before he trains his eyes back on your face.

“Aren’t you… aren’t you a little old for that?”

You don’t mean any harm, but he winces a little for show, his hand over his heart. “Ouch, honey, that hurts. I’m your old man, you should be nice to me.”

You huff at him and plop down next to him on the couch, leaning so close he can smell your coconut body butter you insist on slathering yourself in after a shower. Just take them a little colder, you don’t need to boil alive to get clean. “What do you have?” You ask him, scratching the tip of your nose.

He hands his phone over to you and you hold it carefully, swiping through his pictures catalogue before you look up at him, distinctly unimpressed in the way only hot college girls can be. He finds himself asking more than a little defensively, “What?”

“You need better pictures.” And to not set your age limits at a grandma’s age and a college girl’s age. “Hang on, I have some good ones of you.”

“Did your mom take them?” He leans over to watch you swipe through your gallery.

You shake your head, selecting a couple pictures from a folder named ‘dad’ and texting them to him. “No, I caught a couple candids of you maybe a couple weeks back. And Aunt Claire always sends some to me when all you older folk go out.”

Leon gasps in mock scandal, notching his sharp chin on your shoulder. “I could sue you for that. Unlawful surveillance. What are you doing taking pictures of me without my knowledge anyway?”

You freeze before you go back to selecting the right pictures for his Tinder carousel. “Scrapbooking.” You answer quietly after a long, uncomfortable pause, your eyes on his phone screen. “I don’t have much of mom, so I take as many of you as I can.”

Oh, sweetheart. He wraps an arm around you and squeezes you tight as you help him finish setting upon his profile. See, a couple good ones: him holding a bass as big as his arms put together, one of him smiling unguardedly with Auntie Claire’s German shepherd mix on his lap insisting on pets—he’s smiling so wide his dimples are showing, his fingers buried in the long fur—another of him taking a picture of you taking a picture of him, maybe he can add more when he feels like it.

He squints at the screen, maybe he should up his prescription, “What the hell’s a bio?”

You snort, halfway amused and halfway bewildered. “Like, biography, dad.”

“Why don’t they just say that?” He says to watch you turn to look at him, your noses just this far apart.

You turn back around, face warming. “Because it was meant to be shorthand.”

“Oh.”

You show the phone to him. It’s got his Zodiac—Scorpio—in a tab along with his height and weight, marital status, whether he drinks or smokes or is ‘420 friendly’—which you tell him means whether he’s okay with weed, he says no and you change that—whether he’s a cat or dog person, all the really important things to consider in a potential partner. He adds that he has you, then hedges on whether he should mention the dead wife.

You veto mentioning it, so he leaves it out, then saves his profile.

A bit after you help your dad set up his tinder profile—apparently, DILFs are in—you get asked out on a date. Which, normally, would be cause for celebration.

You just feel anxious at the thought of telling your dad that you’re going out. Like, how is he going to respond? He was never overprotective, and isn’t really now, but you really dislike the idea of leaving him alone for a while. You keep it a secret until you come downstairs and he’s making dinner. He turns around when he hears your feet on the creaky stairs, eyebrows raising as he lets out a low whistle at your outfit.

Your face warms all the way up to your ears.

“Where are you going?” He asks, managing to not sound sleazy as he turns back around to stir the sauce in the pot, the only thing betraying his true feelings being how jerky his movements are.

“Out on a date.” You reply reticently, shifting from foot to foot at the bottom of the stairs.

“Okay.” He says after a tense pause. Then he glances back over his shoulder, waggling his eyebrows at you. “Play safe.”

“Ew, dad.” You say as you go get your shoes and pull them on where you sit on the stairs. “Not happening.”

He hums, eyeing you surreptitiously. Aw, blue underpants this time, not red or black. “Good. At least wait until the third date.”

“I’m going now.” You tell him emphatically, wrapping your arms around him from behind before you walk out, keys in your bag. Leon’s stomach flips when your hand lands on his stomach, body betraying him once again. He curses under his breath and hangs his head, willing himself to calm down and kill that jealousy rising in the back of his throat as he watches you pull out of the driveway and go on your date.

Well, you come home thirty minutes later, guilt eating at you for daring to go out on a date. Nevermind the fact that you’re a fully grown adult and can do whatever you want because you’re young and hot.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He’s at the table, eating by himself and painting a very sad picture of bachelorhood. “Did it not go so well?”

“Yeah.” You lie, getting yourself a plate and serving yourself some spaghetti and meatballs. You didn’t even make it to the restaurant before you took a u-turn and went home, making up something about an emergency coming up. “Didn’t like the guy, gave me bad vibes.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He gets up and scoops you into a hug, hiding his glee successfully. “Other fish in the sea.” He says blithely when you’re both sitting down.

You slurp up the last of your spaghetti before giving him a smile. “Yeah. Other fishes.”

Neither of you mean a word you say.

A month later, he gets to go out on a date with someone else. He tells you the day of, the very same way you did a month prior.

Turnabout’s fair play but your stomach still complains and you’re still jealous of this woman.

He tuts and flicks your nose when you’re silent for a little too long, grinning when you scowl at him and jab him in the stomach. He grunts and doubles over and gets you back, this little play-fight going on for a few minutes because neither of you matured past the age of twelve.

Eventually, you get away and watch him adjust his clothes that you helped pick him out, your arms folding as you pout and sulk on the inside. “Don’t pout at me, babygirl.” He tells you, giving you a wink that traitorously makes your stomach flip-flop. “I’ll be back around nine, you can bring the hammer down if I’m out past curfew.”

You still don’t smile, you feel a little like you’re being replaced. Then again, this mystery woman isn’t the one who gets to have him clinging onto her as she cooks or while you sleep in the same bed or on the couch watching a movie you picked out because Leon’s a big softie and can never say no to his favorite girl.

But she might, and you revolt at the thought of having a stepmother at your big age. You two made it a decade without a replacement, you certainly don’t need one, and lately, you’re not so sure dad needs one either. You’re a wife figure all on your own.

He leaves with a big hug and a kiss dropped on the top of your head, the door shutting behind him. You watch him reverse out of the driveway before you start on dinner and sulk the entire way through the oven cooking your chicken nuggets.

Leon comes home an hour later and scoops you into a hug, rousing you from sleep in your shared bed.

“What’s up, dad?” You sleepily nose at him, head tucked into his neck. “Did you not like her?”

“Nah. I didn’t even see her, I told her something came up.” He pets your head and you snuffle, one arm wrapping around his waist.

“How come?”

“Bad vibes.” He knows you know he’s lying. “Besides,” he shifts, scooping you onto his lap, “I’ve got my number one girl right here.”

#resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #mine

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fraugwinska · 5 months

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What about the reader found and old radio, they thought the radio was broken but it's not, it's just antique.. when they play it at night time alastor broadcast was heard first they feel something is odd.. but they love to listen to his voice, heck they even like talking to each other, because of this encounter alastor talk about it to rosie, she was happy hearing alastor telling her stories but she feel odd when alastor mention that the person he talks to is a human, Rosie giving him advice to not fall for human because they're different species, and it will make him weak etc.

Alastor feel guilty and agree with rosie advice so he's stop contacting the reader from the radio, he thinks that the reader will be fine but no the reader take it personally.. they thought alastor don't want to talk to them anymore.. it drive them mad and lead to suicide..

So yeah angst :D

Oh Anon. What have you done.

I cried while I wrote that - it took two very good friends of mine to encourage me to post it (Thanks to @macabr3-barbi3 and @mysterypotatoink). But I think it's tragic and beautiful, and honestly - I'm kinda proud of it!

TW: Psychological Trauma, descend into madness, loss of self care and suicide - please take care of yourself and do not read if you aren't comfortable with any of the mentioned! MINORS DNI

Here we go.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Leap of Faith

You carried in the last box from you banged-up minivan. The old thing barely made it to your new home. A little cabin in the outskirts of New Orleans, a little off the grid and surrounded by the peaceful and whirring bayous of Louisiana.

A fixer-upper, just like yourself.

The online auction had intrigued you the second you found it, the photos were a bit blurry and you knew it was a risk to buy a place you've never set foot in, but something in you called you to get it. The price you paid was laughable, barely making a dent in your savings. Moving states sounded scary and impossible, but you felt oddly calm about it.

You didn't have a lot of stuff to move anyway. After all, you only lived with your late grandmother, and she never really cared for material things. Your parents left you at her doorstep, never to be seen again.

Caring for her in her last, sickness-ridden years had been a no-brainer - it felt like nothing in comparison to all she had done for you - but it also had been a bit lonely.

You had your friends, if you could even call them that, but you rarely saw them - guiding your nan through the last months of her life had been demanding and time-consuming. It had left you exhausted and emotionally unavailable, and after a while, calls and texts ceased, until it was just you and her. You felt lost, as if the world was slowly pulling away from you.

When she finally died, peacefully in her sleep, you felt sad, relieved and drained.

Detached from the city you lived in.

Lost.

So you decided to sell what little you inherited, except for a few sentimental mementos, and move away from it all. To start a new life, a happier one, finally one that was truly your own.

You took the final box inside, setting it on the coffee table and wiped the sweat from your brow. You looked around the little cabin: The roof had some spots that needed a patch, and the wood floors were a bit warped, but it was all yours. No more having to share anything with anyone.

The cabin came furnished, a lot of the stuff was old, but still usable. You figured that would change once you settled in and had a vision of what you wanted and needed to buy. The thought of thinking about no one but yourself made you nervous.

But a little excited, too.

The old furniture would do for the moment, but there was a particular piece that caught your eye: an old, vintage cathedral radio, sitting nestled in between a cracked wooden box and a tarnished, bronze candle holder in a bookcase that was a bit out of place in the tiny space. With a tilted head, you stepped closer to inspect it, drawn to it by it's unique character and beauty.

It looked as well-loved as it looked well-used, the mahogany a bit scuffed, the knobs a little worn from years of being turned. But there were golden details etched into the front, and you traced them lightly with a finger, strangely touched and intrigued.

You were certain the old thing didn't work, but when you plugged it into the nearby socket, static erupted from the speakers, making you jump back. You had to smile, though.

Tonight, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have this little device and a little music for good company.

***

"I'm home!" you announced to no one in particular, as you closed the door behind you, your hands full with overfilled grocery bags full of necessities, waiting to fill your empty cabinets.

The day had been hot, but a welcome breeze of the impending night break cooled the inside of your little cabin a bit. With a quiet grunt you set the paper bags down at the small kitchenette. Your groceries were quickly dispersed, and you put on an apron you saved from your grandmother as you got started on dinner.

You hummed as you cut vegetables and boiled water. It had been a long time since you had cooked, really cooked, your nan wasn't much for eating and had no problem living off of simple soups and toast. When you opened your fridge to get some butter, your glance fell onto the radio.

A little music would be nice, you decided, and you walked over, cleaning your hands on the red, frilly cloth around your waist before you turned the dial. The soft sound of static made you hum in contempt - yup. Still works. A little turn to the left, and the room was filled with a soft jazzy tune, the melody a bit grainy, but you didn't mind that at all. You returned to the stove, swaying your hips to the beat as you worked. The music made you feel at ease, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just right.

Just as the onions began to brown in the pan, the song faded out to a voice. You turned your head to the radio, intrigued by the unusual, eccentric accent of the host. It reminded you of the old, vintage films and recordings your grandmother had been fond of - wasn't it called 'transatlantic'?. Whatever it was, it made you smile.

"Now wasn't that a kick in the head, dearest listener? I sure hope you enjoyed the little musical interlude, but it's time to return to the real show! As usual, my name is Alastor, and you are listening to the best jazz, blues and swing music that Hell has to offer!"

You blinked, a little puzzled and yet amused. "Sure is hot as hell today, strange man in the radio.", you mumbled, chuckling as you stirred the bell peppers under the caramelized onions.

"Today we have a very special guest joining my humble broadcast, it seems. Pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!"

"Oh who? Me?" you asked, looking theatrically over your shoulder with batted lashes, shaking your head over your own silliness. You weren't used to talking out loud to yourself, or even really thinking out loud. You were always alone, after all, but the little pretend-play was fun. You laughed a bit, waiting for the host's guest to speak.

"Of course you, little dove. Who else would I mean?"

You gasped, and nearly dropped the spoon as you whipped around, eyes glued to the humming, orange glow of the radio in the dim darkness of your living room.

"What's that? You're surprised, my dear? Don't worry, you're not the only one! This is a first for me, too. Never had a human join my program. I must say, I'm quite intrigued! Tell me, what is your name?"

Your eyes grew wide, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. You took a hesitant step backwards and hit the hot stove, making you curse under your breath. Was the heat finally getting to you?

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm not gonna hurt you, cross my lil' old, blackened heart."

"I-I'm..." you began, swallowing as your fingers tightened around the wooden spoon. "My name is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm... crazy.", you mumbled, rubbing a hand over your face and chuckling a bit. You were just going insane, that's all. Must be the stress, combined with the intense heat. And lack of a companion, a tiny voice reminded you. Yes. Must be.

"Hello crazy, this is Alastor." The host laughed, together with a canned audience.

"Alastor...", you repeated, realization settling in - this wasn't a joke, or a trick of your mind.

"At your service, my dear.", the voice cooed. "Now, I believe you still owe me your name..."

***

You weren't crazy.

Or if you were, you didn't mind. Not with Alastor by your side - or, to be exact, in the radio on your bookcase.

After two weeks of ignoring the cursed radio after unplugging it in a wave of panic on your first night, your morbid curiosity got the better of you. You plugged it back in, and turned on the dial. Just once, you told yourself, then never ever again.

And that's how the two of you got in contact with each other once more. Alastor was as chipper as the first time you heard him, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he promised once again not to harm you, and you shared your name with him. The rest was history. He was very pleasant company. For a demon from hell.

You wouldn't classify the conversations you had with him as a real friendship in the beginning, but you did talk. Occasionally. Mostly in the evenings, when you cooked dinner: He'd ask you about your day and would pry eagerly for a little bit of gossip or new information about the modern New Orleans. When he let it slip that he lived in this very cabin in the 1920's, you weren't stopping with questions about what it was like back in his days, which he, in return, answered generously and enthusiastically.

The first few times he would try to coerce you into making a deal for your soul, casually sprinkling the offer into his small talk, but with enough blunt refusals and a few more days of radio silence (pun intended), he dropped the topic and seemed content on just talking. You, in return, found yourself relaxing into his charming company, your brain happily engaged with trying to wrap your head around him, or better, you tried to come to terms with it.

Weeks passed, and turning the radio on in the evenings became less of an occasional lapse of judgment but more of a routine you were looking forward to. You could tell the Alastor felt the same, his banter became less tense and acted, and a little more genuine.

It made your heart swell in happiness, that someone out there seemed to appreciate your company – even if that someone wasn't human.

Apprehension became amusement, and fascination became friendship. Oddly enough, you found common grounds in a lot of things: A love for cooking and good music. Preferring books over films. Red wine over white. A shared aversion of vulgarity, and appreciation for good manners.

Your nights were cut shorter and shorter, you would spend hours chatting on and on, until the deep darkness of night disappeared into a shade of blue on the horizon. Neither of you minded, at least that was what you thought. Alastor never ended the conversations with you. Either you had to say your goodbyes, or you would just fall asleep after hours of talking on your couch, and awake with a pained back to a shut-off radio. Then, after you'd realize that you would have a whole day ahead of you without hearing his voice, the loss would make your chest ache.

Two months into the 'thing', which was still a strange concept you could barely comprehend, the truth of the matter dawned on you: You liked him. Not just because he was a surprisingly amicable voice coming out of your vintage radio, a lively constant in the uneventful life you had made for yourself in Louisiana - he had become important to you, irreplaceable, even. An essential element to your life. You couldn't imagine how you'd gone so long without him, and yet, here you were, lost without him, scrambling through the hours until you could talk to him once more.

"Something on your mind, darling? You're awfully quiet today."

You held your fork and knife still above the salmon you had just been about to eat. It was the first meal of the evening in a long time where you weren't spending the entirety of the preparation time speaking to him, lost in thought about your blossoming feelings. He had gotten excellent at reading you like an open book - you should've gotten used to it after a couple of weeks of him catching on to every little change in your demeanor and knowing just what to say, when you were feeling happy, upset or nervous.

"Oh, um... no. It's nothing Al. Work had me in a wringer today."

"Is it your co-worker Susan again?" You could basically hear his eyes rolling, making you chuckle. "That name must be cursed, every single soul with that name is a menacing pain."

"Maybe,", you muttered, nibbling on a piece of the roasted fish. "This one is mostly just an ornery old bitch."

"Taking the words right out of my mouth, dear." he laughed.

There's was a comfortable pause, with just a gentle background noise of his ever-playing static and an easy, melodic tune coming from his program.

"Is that really all that preoccupies that pretty little head of yours?"

You blushed, picking at the food with your fork. "Bold for a guy who's never seen me to assume my head is pretty."

The radio crackled with pops and feedback. "Bold to assume I can't see you whenever I want, little dove." he said, his voice strangely deeper, tinged with something you didn't catch at the shock of his words.

"You... what?"

"And I can most assure you,", he purred out of the speakers, "pretty is a well fitting word to describe you."

He hummed in approval when your cheeks gained color, as if he knew his comment threw you off guard and made you turn a lovely shade of pink, but it didn't make it any less enticing.

***

"Alastor, if I didn't know better, I would say you have become smitten with this mysterious gal you're blabbing on and about."

Rosie giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful, friendly swipe. "When will I meet her? Come on now, you can't hide her forever. Or are you afraid she'll like me better?"

She laughed, and Alastor forced a toothy grin. His long time friend was the only one he talked about you with, and he knew she was intrigued whenever she could smell a blooming dalliance, especially with a notoriously abstinent bachelor like himself. Normally, he would laugh at that thought with a healthy dose of mockery, but he found himself to be less and less aversed at the thought - if it would be you. Impossible, of course.

"Nonsense, Rosie dear, nonsense,", he chuckled, taking a large sip from his coffee cup, a heavy hand bringing up a plate stacked with finger sandwiches. "And I'm afraid you won't meet her for a long time, maybe never. Humans seldom traverse to hell in their lifetime, and who knows if the little darling will take on the trip downstairs?"

Rosie coughed in her tea, her blackened eyes wide in shock. "Human? It's a human girl you've been courting here? Oh, Alastor, you old fool."

Alastor scrunched his nose, "Talking, Rosie, talking is all we do. And yes, she's a human. I don't see the quandary in that. It's just a little fun."

"Well,", she huffed with a small, thoughtful frown. "I would've hoped for a little more sense in you." The tall demonesse set down her teacup with nimble fingers.

"You may not call it courting, but if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, love." Rosie ignored the indignant look Alastor gave her. "You know as well as I do that such a connection is dangerous to entertain. Humans are fragile and fragile things tend to break. And when they do, the owner mostly follows. You need to break this connection off."

Rosie gave him a sad look as his ears flattened against his head. She would've been more than happy for her oldest and dearest friend to have a partner on his side, someone good and honest who really cared about him, maybe loved him even, as unlovable as he was. But she had to protect him from the silly idea of possibly falling for a living, breathing and supposedly untarnished soul, and the heartbreak that would surely follow. "Don't make the mistake of breaking your heart, dear friend." she smiled, a tint of melancholy hidden in the red of her lips.

"I think it's far too late for that."

She offered a handkerchief, but Alastor waved her off, his smile more faint and close to a frown than she's ever seen.

***

The first day where nothing but static noise came out of the radio, you were irritated but just thought: 'Maybe Alastor has something to do'.

The second day of static you grew concerned. 'What if something happened to Alastor? Was he okay?'.

On the third day, you were panicked. 'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you anymore! Maybe he met someone in hell, someone that he could talk to whenever he wanted and not through an old, dusty radio?'.

"Please talk to me.", you whispered into the empty room. Your knees were pulled to your chest, and you sat on your couch, eyes fixed on the radio in the bookcase. Your eyes stung with the tears threatening to spill. "Please, Al. I miss you." You shook your head, chuckling sadly. It had only been 3 days, but they'd felt like an eternity. The world had seemed silent without Alastor's constant chatter.

When night fell for the fourth day, you were half asleep, eyes red and burning and tears still staining your cheeks. You talked for hours into the void of your house, the radio now moved to sit in front of you on the coffee table, growing more and more desperate as hours passed. Talking faded into pleading, and pleading into begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry...", you mumbled into the wooden furnishing, resting your cheek against the top of the machine, eyes slipping shut with fatigue and defeat. A dry sob slipped past your trembling lips, as your hands desperately grabbed the sides of the antique device.

"Alastor please, don't leave me alone here...", you whispered with the last of your strength, before your body succumbed to your exhaustion, your unconscious mind welcomed the darkness.

If you had stayed awake for just a moment more, you would've, maybe, heard the faint shuddering breath beyond the static rumble. But you didn't. So you had no chance at knowing that, Alastor, listening to every word, saw and heard you at your weakest, and all it did to him was stir the embers and give the blaze an opening for the flames of his anger at fate to rage.

Work had called, again. Susan of all people. Threats were made - either come back to work, or don't come back at all. You smashed your phone. It was useless anyway. What was the point without...

Alastor wasn't here, hadn't answered for seven days now. And you had spent the whole time talking, begging him to show himself, just show himself and tell you what you did wrong, just talk to you one last time and then you'd stop, if that was what he wanted. You became obsessed with the orange light of the illuminated screen, imagining the flickers were maybe signs from him.

You stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped almost anything, you just sat, in front of the radio, unmoving and unwilling to miss the smallest sign of his return.

Every single minute stretched into agony, and every breath that left your lips made a fresh tear roll down your paling cheeks, until your body couldn't produce them anymore. Then, you cried wordless whimpers and moans, even started praying to an unknown entity.

It wasn't as if Alastor owed you anything. It's not as though you thought the two of you were anything other than two kindred souls, one human, one demon, talking to each other. As a result, it wasn't like you had the right to anything from him.

It was strange to consider the connection the two of you shared: Something more than acquaintances, something closer than friends, and yet never fully crossing the line beyond it. The unpenetrable boundary dividing life and death in between.

Your eyes fell on a large, old crucifix on your wall, staring back at you with pity.

For the first time in days, you left the sofa, took it from the wall and burned it on your gas stove, watching the face of the nailed figurine slowly melt in the fire.

***

It had been eight days of excruciating, one-sided silence.

Eight days Alastor cursed his cowardice as he sat, red eyed with claws digging into his scalp, as he listened to you plead for him to talk - To answer. To do anything. Anything, but leave you alone, he heard, as if the words were spoken right in his ear.

Eight days of watching you slowly detriment from the eyes of the shadows he was able to manifest above, tugging on the very fabric of the world to move you, to keep your mind from going where it shouldn't go.

He kept telling himself it was for the better. His shadows murmured persistent reminders that he should find entertainment in your growing lunacy. He was the radio demon, after all. He shouldn't care if this wisp of a human were to perish, should laugh at your wails of agony and despair.

But Alastor never felt less like laughing. Your dried sobs and pained apologies for things you never did wrong in the first place filled his head, taunting and gnawing on him with feelings he thought he was unable to feel: Guilt and Regret.

It was as Rosie had predicted - he was becoming weak. But weakness was something that should be avoided. Had to be. He knew. Being weak, being feeble, would make him vulnerable, make him into the prey his cruel from already portrayed to the world he had to inherit. He couldn't allow it. Couldn't let his feelings for you bring him down to the levels of the sinners in hell he would tear apart and laugh while he did it.

That's why he stayed silent. Endured it, all of it, every word, cry and plea. Stayed invisible and silent, waiting for you to move on, forget him, shut off and leave the radio, never to turn the dial again. For your sake and his.

When the connection broke, on that eight day, Alastor could feel your resignation, your peace with which your pale hands gripped the electrical cord at it's base to pull. And he was suddenly filled with the awareness of something horrible, like a premonition. It set his already battered, aching heart in an ice cold grasp of dread.

His room exploded in green light as he expanded into his full demonic form, his limbs threatening to pull and burst at the stitches and his smile splitting his face almost entirely in half. He had to reach out, had to reform the connection to the radio one last time, even though nearly impossible.

You were about to do something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

***

Your car broke down just where it needed to. You took the radio out of the trunk, knocking the hood two times for a goodbye, the key safely in the ignition. Maybe some other poor soul would find and repair it, make happier memories with it.

You clutched the wooden device closer and started to walk. Indigo blue faded into black as you looked up to the sky that was sprinkled with glowing, shimmering silver dust, stars blinking in the unimaginable distance. There, but out of reach.

Just like him.

Your dry sob stung in your throat, but you didn't really feel the pain. Your eyes were fixed on the path to your final destination, right in front of you.

The Crescent City Connection Bridge was mostly abandoned by traffic at this time of night and provided just enough covered spaces to hide you from some foolish saviors eyes.

You didn't need to be saved.

You didn't want to be saved.

Because you were about to save yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the other direction than the one you were going. So, with slow but steady steps, you walked towards the middle of the bridge, settling on a place next to a metal pillar and looked over the railing onto the shimmering waters of the Mississippi River.

Alastor had told you about the river, how he loved to watch the steam boats floating on it from the radio station where he worked at when he was alive. The station was long gone, you didn't even find out where it had been in the first place, but you liked to imagine that you were looking at the same scenery now that he had been looking at when he peered out of his booth in his radio tower.

It made you smile through the tears... You were glad the end was somehow connected to him, even if it was most likely just your naive imagination.

It felt like the device in your arms was emitting static energy, prickling over your arms, hands and fingers as you caressed the mahogany wood gently, feeling as though the radio was shaking in your hands, trying to pull you back from the fenced ledge.

A quiet sob escaped your lips, turning into a giggle and into hysterical laughter. You sat down between the railing, and hugged the radio close, trying to breathe as you closed your eyes, resting your temple on the worn, warm wood.

"It'll be okay, Al.", you said quietly, your voice unnaturally hoarse and rough from lack of use and dehydration. "I'm coming. I'm coming to you.”

With one arm around the radio, holding it tight against your chest, you turned to stand on shaky legs, gripping the railing with one arm and, with one final glance at the stars above you you smiled. You heard sirens in the distance, and some people shouting from a sparkling streamliner passing under the bridge. Time was running short, so you didn't wait to put first one foot over the fence, then the other, taking a deep breath.

"I guess doves were always meant to fly."

And, with that, your body twisted, turned and leaped, falling as the light on the radio, firmly pressed against your heart, began to glow in deepest crimson and swirls of green.

Falling like an angel would descend from grace.

Part 2 for closure

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angst #trigger warnings #minors d #minors don't look #minors dont touch #yes I'm crying #you're crying too #we all cry here #no judgement #quickf #quickfic

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plutoccult · 7 months

Text

POST-WAR!REINER BECOMES A DAD

pairing: reiner braun x female reader

description: super cute headcanons depicting reiner becoming a father for the first time.

author’s note: new theme!! slayyyy 🤭 i wrote these after i rewatched how i met your mother for the fifty billionth time and the scene where barney meets his child for the first time spawned these headcanons. y’all liked dad!jean, so here’s dad!reiner 🤪 it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. i’d love to write more dad content for the aot men in the future, but i hope you enjoy this!

tags: @solefleurs @heavenfilm @cowgirlikets @jeanboyjean @femme-lune @todorokiskitten @0p1umz

taglist form here

— it was no question that reiner always felt like he didn’t deserve to live a happy life.

— but despite all of his sins and feeling like a monster, you were the one to see a loving man underneath, and loved him despite it all.

— once reiner settled into life after years of war and peace negotiations that followed, he was finally able to live the life he always craved, yet didn’t think he deserved.

— the two of you got a little house with hopes of starting a family one day. it was a bit of a fixer upper, but reiner became quite the handyman to create the perfect family home.

— reiner always feared starting a family would mean he’d accidentally create a child just as screwed up as him, but you always soothed those fears, insisting your future child will be brought up with nothing but love, what reiner always wanted in his own childhood.

— of course, there was still some worry, but that was normal for anyone becoming a parent for the first time. reiner just had to remind himself that there wouldn’t be any vicious cycles repeating.

— when you finally became pregnant after months of trying, reiner was ecstatic.

— he wanted to do everything he could to make sure you were both ready. he built the baby’s crib from scratch, using the chopped wood he brought home everyday to craft it himself.

— reiner even tended to your every need, although sometimes you tried to insist he didn’t, reiner didn’t want you have to lift a finger. you were creating new life, after all.

— once it came time for the birth, pre-parental kicked in terribly. every doubt came rushing back so quickly, but reiner had to keep it together for your sake. he couldn’t let you deal with a wreck like him while you were trying to push out a kid.

— but after hours and hours, a baby girl was finally born, and she was one of the greatest things to ever grace this earth.

— when reiner met his baby girl for the very first time, it was like he fell in love all over again. his love for you was always strong, but his love for your child carried just as much strength. every worry he had washed away the second he saw your precious child.

— he held the newborn in his arms, his first words to her; “you are the love of my life… everything i have and everything i am is yours… forever.”

— it was no contest that reiner would dedicate every damn day of his life to you, your child, and whatever future children you may have. there would never be a single doubt.

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void-bitten-ghost · 9 months

Text

Modern Mizu hears you like a bit of 'danger and excitement' from one of your friends, so she takes you to an underground fighting ring for like, your fifth date. This is after the gun range fiasco, so you've already seen a side of Mizu that not many have been allowed to see.

When she mentions this idea you're like, so fucking excited but still kinda like??? There's one of these here????? Nearby????? Holy shit yes???? Please?????? That's so cool?????

She specifically avoids answering how she knows it exists. This isn't about her. This is about sharing an experience she loves and you've shown interest in.

She picks you up on her bike (because Of Course she would have a motorbike that's like either this hand-me-down or a fixer-upper she restored) and you go. It's exactly what you thought it would be, off vibes and dodgy people, but being with Mizu somehow makes you feel safe because she's confident. But it's not an arrogant kind of confidence, it's a steady, assured sort of confidence that puts you right at ease as she takes your hand and leads you through the crowd.

Now, something you don't know is this is not Mizu's stomping grounds. Not even close. But she knew it by name and reputation and it was close enough you could both make a night out of it rather than three. Although... she wouldn't mind if that were to happen--

She snaps back to reality when you step forward and holler out encouragement to the scrawnier one of the two currently in the ring. The corner of her mouth quirks at your enthusiasm, a brow lifting and a hip popping as she crosses her arms to just. Watch you. As you lose yourself to the energy of the room.

The match ends with the scrawny one getting his ass handed to him by the dude built like a brick shit-house. She expected as much. It takes a certain amount of skill to be able to take a mountain of a man like that down while having such a slight build. She'd know, after all.

Anyway. Everything is going swimmingly until some prick pushes his luck trying to get your attention. You very bluntly tell him he's barking up the wrong tree and he does not take the rejection well. Mizu tries to not intervene directly with your battles too often. You're a capable person, it's one of the things she lov- likes. Likes about you.

But then the burly fuck reaches for you. You smack his hand away and go to headbutt him. She grabs you by the waist before you could start the climb to reach and if you weren't so riled up you might have short circuited at the feel of her calloused hand on your skin.

"This bitch yours, mutt?" He grunts to Mizu, and you see fucking red.

"You fucking dare call her a mutt you jumped up little cun--"

"Yes," she says over you, calm as a still lake, and you do actually short circuit at Mizu calling you 'hers'. The heat of anger in you switches gears to something far sweeter, but no less scalding.

"And I would appreciate it if you didn't upset her," Mizu says, her fingers trailing to your hip and gripping a belt loop possessively. You can suddenly feel every point of contact. Hip, arm, chest...

That's when the man looks at Mizu. Really looks at her with a lean forward and squinted eyes, looking over her tinted shades.

"Onryo," he breathes, and you feel Mizu tense behind you. She hadn't heard that name for a good long while. It was a name from her troubled youth. One she thought was long behind her since going legit.

"You're a long way from home, demon."

"What of it?"

You could sense something was happening as the two spoke in what you thought was an amicable tone, but then Mizu is pulling you behind her and shedding her jacket. You take hold of it instinctively as she went to drop it on the ground and she finally turns your way.

"Everything is fine," she tells you in that same confident tone, but she must see your confusion and anxiety written on your face because she takes your chin in her hand and gives you a quick peck on the lips. You stand there with a stupid, dumbstruck look she grins at as she--

She's heading to the ring. She's heading to the middle of the ring and she's shedding another layer as she climbs over the freshold oh dear gods you don't know what to do. What to think. Holy fucking shit she's right there in a sports bra and baggy pants while wrapping her knuckles-- where did she get wrappings from?????

You're more than short circuiting at this point. You need a soft reboot. Maybe a full reboot at this rate since she's sliding off those tinted glasses and-- oh.

You see her eyes.

You've seen them before, of course. But not like this. Not with this intensity behind them. Like she's looking right through her opponent to predict every single movement his future self might consider making. That indomitable focus had you flushing with heat from head to toe as you watched, mouth parted, breaths quickening.

She floors a man twice her size and three times the bredth and your knees might give out. Are you swooning? You might just be fucking swooning holy fuck--

But then she gets gut punched and then tackled by a secret second opponent and you snap back into the whole situation.

You scream out encouragement to Mizu until your lungs feel dry, and then you scream some more. You want to be the loudest. You want Mizu to hear you and know you're rooting for her while she wipes the floor with these cheating bastards.

There's four of the fuckers now. Four all dressed in similar... you hesitate to call them uniforms. More like they all shopped at the same tec-wear store at the same time. But shit are they fast. You have the slightest moment of worry when you see the glint of metal fly past in one of their fists--

Mizu breaks thier arm with a sickening twist and a wet 'crack', and you think you might never have been so turned on in your entire fucking life.

(And also you might need to address and analyse some things about yourself later...)

The metal drops to the floor with an audible clang and a loud noise goes off somewhere. You're going to be honest, you're not really paying attention to anything else other than how Mizu moves around her opponents. Even outnumbered she holds her own, muscles coiled and yet her movements are smooth like flowing water. You can't help but think of the type that wears away cliffsides and cracks apart mountains, because that's what she's doing. She's fighting smart where they're fighting with force, and she is kicking their fucking asses--

Others converge on the ring, the crowd flooding in to hold them all down and you can't help but notice it takes five fully stacked men to hold Mizu down. And even then that only lasts about seven seconds before she breaks free, methodically picking them all off one by one before she launches herself into the now turbulent crowd.

That's when you panic, shouting for her while elbows and shoulders send you this way and that. You narrowly dodge a fist to the face before a hand grabs yours. You're ready to swing right back when you lock eyes with those sharp blues you so adore.

You both book it out, avoiding flailing limbs and thrown table legs. You've somehow still got Mizu's jacket in the crook of your arm when you both make it outside and keep running, only stopping when the sound of sirens was long, long off in the distance.

You're both curled over in a dark, dank alleyway, breaths haggard and coming out as clouds in the crisp night air.

You look up from your knees, ass pressed against the brick wall to support your wobbly legs, and you can't help but crack a grin when you see Mizu in a similar state, only just realising what the fuck just happened.

The grin breaks into a laugh when Mizu looks to you with a bright smile of her own, it's a wheezing thing at first, but then it becomes a full belly laugh when she joins you. And oh, is that such a rare sight. Mizu losing herself in a laugh and then looking at you with the most beautiful full face smile you've ever seen in your life.

Your giggles die in the face of that smile, replaced with a quiet awe and probably the dumbest looking lovesick stare--

Steps. Multiple steps approach the alley and Mizu's first and only instinct is to hide and protect you, pressing you back against the wall and covering your mouth with her hand, catching your yelp of surprise before it could really become an external sound.

And ohhhhh, what a predicament you find yourself in. Pinned to a wall by this very strong and capable and, evidentally, dangerous woman who took you out tonight to a place you would only dream of going to and protected you the entire time and then caused a room wide fight to break out that she was, up until that point, winning--

Ohhhh my phone is currently dying a death imma have to post and carry on later because my brain is a bastard that way 🙃

#modern mizu #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu x y/n #underground fighter mizu #I WROTE SOMETHING #HAHA! TAKE THAT BRAIN BLOCK!#HOPE YOU ENJOY #tw fighting #tw violence #but i mean #its bes #eitger way better safe than sorry #fem reader #ish

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luvrxbunny · 1 year

Text

sleek

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Prompt: Car Sex

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, f!oral sex, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 2.7k

A/N: pretty sure the truck was Tommy’s but we’ll pretend it was Joel’s

You and Joel were on a supply run, nothing you haven’t done a million times before. You guys were wandering around, looking for anything you could find when you heard him let out a sharp gasp. You grip your gun reflexively and start looking around for whatever he saw, but you find nothing.

“Aww look at this!” He’s admiring a bloody, muddy, beat-down truck. He’s crouching, groaning at his knees when he stands back up to circle the truck. “Wow…” He actually sounds in awe… you don't get it.

“Joel, that truck is in horrible condition.” You deadpan. He turns to you with a childlike glee in his eyes. “No! Don’t say that! She’s jus’ a fixer upper that’s all.” He pats her hood with a smile. “Looks just like my old truck, from before… Of course, mine was cleaner… yeah.”

He runs his finger through the coat of dirt with a sad sigh. “I kept her so nice, so clean.” He glances over at you with a shy smile. “I woulda taken you to a real nice place in her, make it a long drive jus’ to show off for ya’.” It warms your heart, the softness of his fantasy, the domesticity of it.

“Yeah? I’d be so impressed too.” You make your way over to him, admiring the truck a bit. “I used to love a guy with a truck, especially those ones that need a step to get in.”

You see excitement fly over his face as he holds a finger up to you and rushes to the side of the car, opens the passenger side door, and showcases the step at the bottom of the doorway. “See! You woulda been so impressed.” He sounds a bit deflated at the lost opportunity, you try and indulge him.

“Where would you take me?” The light returns to his eyes when he turns to you. “Where’d ya’ wanna go?” He stands quickly and rushes to stand in front of you, to watch you answer as though he really needed to know. “Uh- I think I’d love to go to a drive-in theater… especially with a truck!” His smile is wider than you’ve seen in a while.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’d get some blankets, and make the back all nice and comfortable for ya’. You’d be so impressed with me, baby, I swear.” This felt like it was bordering on self depreciation talk and you wouldn’t have it. “Joel. I’m already impressed with how well our date nights go. We’re living on a commune in the apocalypse yet I still feel like the most important thing when I’m with you. That’s the most important thing to me.”

His eyes meet yours sadly. “I have more charm with the truck though.” He has a shy smile on his face as he says it, embarrassed at how true he believes it is. You laugh at his claim. “Sure, Joel. The only appeal this truck has to me… is that there are more places to fuck you in. Other than that, it doesn't serve much purpose.” You watch his face contort in shock for a moment before turning slightly pink. You giggle at his reaction and tell him you guys have to get a move on.

You’ve taken a few steps when you realize you don’t hear him behind you. You look around and don’t see him at first, then you notice he’s gotten in the truck.

His obsession is gonna get us stuck out here after sundown.

You shake your head and make your way back to the truck, his jacket is off, and his back is turned to you. “Joel, what are you doing? You can’t fix the truck” He turns to you and his face is still red, his chest is lightly heaving and there’s a bulge in his pants. “No, but I can still fuck you in it.”

You look down at the seat to see he’s laid his jacket out for you, so sure that you’re going to let him fuck you in this fake copy of his old truck. He’s right.

You smile and he reaches his hand out for you to take as you climb in. He watches you press yourself up from the step and almost fall into him. He catches you with a chuckle and your lips are already pressing into his. He groans against your lips at your desperation, at the way you’re already trying to lick into his mouth, repositioning yourself so you can try and wiggle your way onto his lap.

He smiles into the kiss, pulls your hips away from him, and starts sliding them down, letting you lean back against the seat cushions. He pulls your pants and underwear down to your knees before just diving in. His head buries itself between your legs before you can gasp at the cold air hitting your sensitive skin.

His tongue is licking across anything he can reach, trying to taste every part of you. One of his hands pulls away from its painful grip on your thighs to unzip his pants. His cock is pressing painfully into the denim as you mewl above him, whining for more, for him to stop and just fuck you, you don’t even know what you want. Joel brings that hand up to lay across your waistline, pressing your hips down against the fabric of his jacket.

You feel bad because you know you’re making a mess on it. You’re soaked by the way Joel was trying to drink you up, at the groans and grunts he’s letting out between your legs and the way his hips have started to slowly grind his aching cock against the seats.

Your hips slowly begin to rock into his face, your hands come down to hold his head in place as you do. He groans your name into your pussy as you use him, riding his nose as his tongue tries to wiggle its way inside you. His eyes are shut in concentration but they shoot open to look at you when you start moaning his name. “Joel. C- Joel I’m close- so close, Joel. Joel-“

Your hushed voice comes out as a whimper as you try and warn him. Joel is lost in the way you say his name. The way you feel the need to have it on repeat as you cum, like it’s the only thought in your head.

His hand comes down to palm his raging bulge, relieving some of the tension that’s been building as he fucks into the dirty seats. He’s pulsing for you, to get inside you, to fuck you in his this truck.

His eyes close at the thought. In an alternate universe, Joel thinks you’d be softer. You’re already so sweet and sensitive for him but without the added sense of danger, Joel thinks you’d be a mess for him. Just melting all over whenever he touched you.

He’d be more affectionate too, get you into that headspace that makes everything fuzzy. Keep caressing you until all you can do is cling to him and ramble deliriously about how good he makes you feel. He’d love to have the opportunity to take his time with you, bring you so high that you feel like you’ll never come down, and then throw you over the edge.

“JOEL-“ His name comes out as a shouted gasp before you’re creaming all on his tongue. His eyes roll back behind his shut lids as he desperately tries to drink up all your juices. He’s relishing your taste, moaning praises to you from buried between your legs. He knows you can’t hear them but he means them so truthfully he doesn’t even need you to, he just can’t stop them from tumbling out of his mouth.

You have to tug his hair to get him out, to stop him from. overstimulating you to the point of immobility. “Joel. S- You s-said you’d fuck me.”

You’re whining for him, already begging for more and he is more than willing to give it to you. He’s already pushing himself off the ground, pulling his jeans down, and climbing over you with a smirk. You’re wearing a pout that’s reluctantly turning into a shy smile under his gaze. He helps you pull your pants completely off your legs before spreading you open.

He has one leg over his shoulder and the other resting on his hip, his hands are clutching each ankle as he smiles down at you. “Wanna put me in, baby?” His accent makes the words slide out of his throat like honey, spilling from his lips like they’re the sweetest syrup.

Your pussy is already squeezing down on nothing, begging him to stretch you. He chuckles at the whimper you let out before grabbing his thick cock and lining him with your entrance. You can feel his tip resting so far outside where your hole sits naturally and your heart begins to race. You can tell Joel is having the same thoughts by the way his gaze is focused on where you two are touching, where his tip is just leaking into your hole. His breaths are coming out in small pants and he’s trying to stop his hips from thrusting his cock inside you, pushing his way through.

You wiggle your hips slowly, trying to ease him in. His tip slides in quicker than you expected, you flinch and moan at the sensation, winning a rare whine from Joel as his tip catches on your ever-constricting pussy. His hand has to leave one of your legs to push your hips down onto the seats, ensuring that you don’t take any more of him in.

If you did, Joel thinks he’d blow his load instantly.

Now you’re whining on his tip, begging him for more as he squeezes the base of his dick, trying to will his load to stay at bay. Your whines start to get a bit weaker, more watery and you start to sniff. Joel’s eyes snap to yours and see your face turned away from him with little steaks of water from wiped tears on your cheeks. He reaches for you immediately.

“What? What’s wrong, honey? Does it hurt? Wan’ me t’take it out, baby? C’mon, talk to me.”

You turn to Joel and shake your head with a sad smile before trying to kiss him but he turns away to whisper in your ear. “Gotta tell me what’s wrong first, darlin’.”

He lets you cling to him, a hand still on your hip as you try to coax more of his cock into you, wiggling your hips and clenching rhythmically to try and convince him to push into you as you let it little sobs into his neck. “J- Just need you s- so bad J- Joel. I need it, need you.”

He swears his vision blurs for a moment. He’s heard you say this to him countless times and it turns him on, sure. But he’s always known you say it for that specific reason.

This time, however, it feels like you really mean it. The way your body is crying- the way you’re literally crying for him. It’s all too much, it doesn’t feel real. He can’t believe the way he makes you feel so good, it’s all he wants; to make you feel good. His cock won’t stop pulsing inside you, he’s trying to calm down but your whines for him are almost too much.

He starts thrusting into you, he doesn’t work his way up to the brutal pace he’s currently at. He started that way, fueled by the shout of his name from your lips. He hides himself in your neck and your hands come up to cradle his head against you, your hands digging into his soft hair as he ruts into you. “I’m not gonna last.”

The words rush out of his mouth and you moan his name in response. Your pussy suffocates him, pulling him- forcing him closer to the edge. “I w- want it, Joel. Please cum inside me-” You gasp at your own words and Joel can feel his balls tightening at them. “Joel-” Your tone becomes frantic and you’re clawing at his shoulders, his neck and gripping his hair to pull his head from your neck. You’re staring at his face now, hands on either side, but his eyes are still closed. He’s still too close, he doesn’t want- he can’t risk cumming before you. He needs you to cum on him first, for you to moan his name in the way you only do when he’s got you shaking on his cock… but you’re whining at him to open his eyes, to look at you. You’re begging him.

“Look at me when I cum, Joey. P-please. Joel-” You gasp out a moan and your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him in for a blind kiss. He can’t help but open for you, letting you lick into his mouth, trying to ignore the way his stomach burns at the taste of your tongue. He takes a shaky breath to calm himself and you’re moaning against his lips again. “I need it.” You’re breathless as you try not to cum, letting out breathy keens and high-pitched sighs of his name. He can feel you twitching on his cock, squeezing him for a moment before whining and trying your hardest not to. He can’t deny you any longer. His eyes open and meet your instantly.

You pull his head to yours, desperately trying to fall into his eyes as your orgasm crashes over you, only waiting for Joel’s gaze to unleash it. Your mouth opens wider the tighter your pussy chokes his cock, you’re gazing right into his eyes as you cream all over his cock.

He can’t. His breathing picks up as you stare into him, so lovingly. He starts panting, his breath fanning over your face until little whines and curses work their way out of his throat. His chest is heaving and his hips are slowly losing their rhythm. “I-inside, Joel. Wan’ it.” Your words slur together as your eyes roll back at the pulsing of his cock inside you.

Your name is falling from his lips like a plea before he brings his body flush against yours. His hand comes behind your head to pull you up into a sitting position as he leans back onto his heels, still thrusting into you slowly. “‘M gonna gi-give it to you, baby. Gonna fill you-” Pleasure runs up his spine with a shudder and his eyes fall shut.

“ ‘M cummin’, sweetheart.” The words are more whiny than you’ve ever heard him and he starts spilling into you. He’s grunting out sounds that vaguely resemble your name, working himself up into a whine as he continues to thrust into you. His brows furrow and his hips stutter to a stop but he’s still filling you, so you start to grind on him. His eyes shoot open with a ragged moan. “Can’t- It-” He struggles to get the words out as you swivel your hips on him, enticing his cock to let another round of cum spit into you. His eyebrows pull inward as you smile at him deliriously, letting an innocent giggle fall from your mouth.

He moans your name against your lips, his hands on your lower back to hold you up as he finishes filling you. His entire body shudders with the last rope of cum that shoots into you, earning a pretty moan from your lips. “Fuck, Joel.”

He grunts into your neck, placing soft kisses there while he tries to calm down. You’re humming at each one and stroking the back of his head softly, resting your head on top of his. He’s letting shuddering sighs out against your skin as his cock softens inside you. He slowly pulls his head out from your neck, you leave your hand on the back of his head and give him a crooked, lazy smile that warms his heart. “Tha’ was so much, Joey.”

He groans at the pet name and smiles at you fondly. You’re whispering fucked out praises in his ear as he cleans you up and you cling to him the whole way home.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

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lindsay00000008 · 3 months

Text

Ghost x Fem!Reader

DownBad!Simon Ghost Riley x JustAFriend!Reader

A little worldbuilding for ya. Enjoy! Maybe next will be a how-they-met drabble.

Part 3 (Prev)

CW: cursing, reference to solo hanky panky

“Beer?”

“Beer.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

So it turns out a honey glaze can catch fire in the air fryer. Who knew?

The Thursday Dinner Experiment dissolves into a slapdash affair of side veggies (sautéed onions, broccoli and peppers) with frozen beef and bean burritos as the main course. You and Simon settle on a movie to offset the stress of dousing the flames, have a couple more beers on the couch, and talk about the project Simon wants to complete before his next gig.

“Built-ins.”

“Incredible. Love a good built-in.”

His fixer-upper has been the highlight of his time off, it seems. Not a distraction, per se. You get the feeling he likes the act of creation, healing the house and seeing the effect of his work in measurable ways. He says he intends to sell it for profit, but those times you see him at work it’s a bit hard to believe.

“The roof is all fixed then?”

“Mm,” he gives a more-or-less wave of his hand, and you snicker.

“Remind me not to sleep over. Or would you hold an umbrella for me?”

He huffs and takes a swig of his drink.

“Oh, hey have you heard from Johnny lately?”

He gives you a look that seems to say o‘course I have, and you continue.

“Ok yeah, I just meant I haven’t been able to get ahold of him in a bit.”

“Some’n you need?”

“Um, it’s more like I owe him,” you chuckle. “He told me I could buy him dinner but he’s been slippery.”

Simon snorts, covering his mouth and nose before beer can spout forth.

“What?” You smile, bewildered at his sudden humor.

“Hmm. Johnny... yeah, you could say he’s slippery.”

“Is this a sex thing? Cause I remember that story Johnny told at the bar and it really-“

“Nah,” Simon can’t hold in his laugh this time, “Nah it’s not a sex thing. It's a... work thing. Inside joke.”

"Oh, haha..." You laugh faintly, that familiar, outside-looking-in feeling creeping up. You're not exactly sure what Simon does for work. You've been friends for two years now, and see him constantly for those periods of time when he's home, but there's still so much you're in the dark about. You don't need to know these things to enjoy your time together. And Simon seems comfortable separating his work from his daily life. Besides his attachment to his coworker Johnny, of course, the two closer than brothers.

Sometime you think they're in some kind of international mafia. Simon shows up after a month away looking like he's been steamrolled and blown up, with trinkets and treats from places far away. Specialty coffee, a tiny stained glass lamp, an ocarina engraved with a lily. The military maybe - but you've had friends in the military, a cousin who joined the marines even, and this feels very different.

Simon rubs his mouth, slotting the bridge between his thumb and forefinger beneath his nose, an action you've noticed seems to sooth him. Perhaps he's thinking the same things, feeling the secrets between you. You want to pull him away from the thought, show him you're fine with however much he can give you. Your friendship is all that matters.

"So he's good yeah? Just busy, then?"

"Hm. Bloke's fine, probably just joined a knittin' club or sum'in. I'll ask 'im."

"Hah. Well like I said, it's repayment, for that time he spotted me at Hooligan's. Don't want to be a bother."

Simon levels you with a serious look.

"He'd be a big idiot to turn down your offer."

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"Why are you avoiding her, ya big idiot?" Simon accuses Johnny when he phones him later that night.

"Oh 'am the idiot? Yer the one who can't see 'am tryin' to give ye room to make a move on the lass."

"Fuck righ' off Soap, we're just friends. Thought the two o' you were friends too, but you're making her wonder."

"She'll ge' over it. But you won't ge' over it if she goes out with me and falls for my charms, no' will ya?"

"Gimme a break."

"Look. I like her. Which is why I'm backin' off. It's no' so rare for me to have a wee crush. But the second I saw you makin' goo-goo eyes-"

"I do not make-"

"Hush it, LT. 'Am just tryin'a give ye yer best shot. She's the first thing ye think of when comin' off deployment, yeah? 'Ah know, I see it in ye every time. One day you'll thank me."

"Look, just..." Simon speaks through a raging blush, his voice a grumble that sounds grumpier than he really feels, "call her back, would ya? Go grab a coffee or something. I'm not pressed. If she likes you... I'll deal. Don't count on it though. She's too smart for you."

"Sure LT. I'll do it for you, alright? Kisses,"

"Soap..."

"Yeah, LT?"

"Fuck off."

"'Night, LT."

"G'night."

Simon tosses the phone to the floor beside the bed and curses up at the ceiling, rubbing his hot face. His mind turns back to the wrestling that afternoon. The way he "accidentally" fell atop you when you tripped, how you were enveloped perfectly beneath his body, the way your eyes widened and cheeks flushed when you both looked at the salacious packaging spilling out of the nondescript cardboard box. Oh, how he wanted to tease you relentlessly. Give in to the desire to drag your pure, ladylike demeanor through the mud and then lick it all off. If he said the things he was itching to say, would you cover your ears, or laugh? Would you bite back? What would happen then, on that couch, if you hadn't scurried away when you did? The images take him away.

It's a long time before he finds sleep, his hands too rough and knowledgable to truly satisfy.

He can't go on like this. Not forever. But what else can he do?

Taglist:

If you've given me love in the comments or reblogs I've added you too! Thanks for the support! Lmk to add/remove.

@littleghostbride, @cmbghost, @anotherrickinthewall, @etherealinthewoods

P.S. About Simon's mask

My sister told me she was confused as to why Simon doesn't have a mask in these drabbles. I have the idea that he keeps his civilian life so entirely separate from work that he can't wear a mask all the time for fear people might make that connection. People know him in the field as the guy who always wears the mask, right? He has two identities. With the mask, and without. Ghost, and Simon. He does still wear a plain black KN95 on errands, citing health awareness (it's really his anxiety). But when he's comfortable at home or with friends (even at his favorite bar, sometimes), he takes it off. That's my headcannon, anyway.

#cod #cod modern warfare #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #lindsay00000008

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st4rbe0m · 2 months

Text

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ FIX THIS FIXER UPPER - YJW

🍀 now playing - fixer upper from disney's Frozen 🍀 contents - frozen au, from the fairytales collection - click on my masterlist for Hoon's version!! implied cheating (cuz of the hans fiance), light angst, emotionally constipated jungwon, implied kissing 🍀 wc - 1.1K 🍀 a/n - kristoff lowkey underrated as hell icl, might make a part 2 :p

masterlist

We're not sayin' you can change him 'Cause people don't really change We're only saying that love's a force That's powerful and strange

The ice in your heart is spreading and not only you, but even Jungwon is acutely aware of this fact, as his fingers dig into the reins of his reindeer. He knew as soon as you emerged from your older sister’s ice castle, shivering uncannily, that something was wrong. Not that shivering in July was anything odd - not with the predicament Arendelle was under. But it was the way your eyes were downcast and you were clutching your chest that sent a sense of emergency through him, and he knew only his adoptive grandfather - the Elder Troll would have the solution to their problem. The way the reindeer’s eyes would flit back to him, questioningly, made him remember how he was breaching all of his rules of getting close to others just for this princess - a princess who was already engaged, nonetheless.

You were unimpressed as he stood in the middle of the clearing in the woods, surrounded only by some moss covered rocks. All your years of isolation did have you a bit clueless about the world around you, outside the vast castle that often seemed like prison than home. But you knew for a fact that moss covered rocks wouldn’t be able to thaw your heart. That was until the rocks began rumbling eerily, and tumbled down all at once, grindingly as they morphed into little creatures about a foot tall near yours and Jungwon’s legs. Several pairs of eyes blinked at you both, and then broke into a cacophony of voices and exclamations. “Jungwon’s back!” “Jungwon’s back and he brought a girl!”, were the common phrases being gleefully yelled by the trolls around you.

Jungwon and you were similar in the way you both were raised, in the sense of your shared loneliness. While being shut away in the palace due to your sister’s powers made you desperate for any sort of experience, Jungwon’s childhood with the trolls made him averse to people. But you both craved a little bit of love. And up till now you believed you had found it in the princely fiance you had waiting back for you at home. “Oh, I’m so happy to meet you dear! Gosh, we thought Wonie here would turn into a rock himself the way he hasn’t met anyone in all these years we’ve had him!”, said a troll with a kindly, motherly face. From the fond way she spoke about him, you could tell this was the troll that had adopted the role of being Jungwon’s mother. “Sorry, what?” you puzzled yourself. And the trolls who had obviously misread the situation seemed to understand this too.

“Come on dear, I know he’s not the best, but he’s just a bit of a fixer upper!”. “Is it because of his cat-like tendencies?”. It seemed that the trolls had begun a musical recitation of all the ways Jungwon was a bit different than the rest, and Jungwon just stood there absolutely mortified.

“I bet it’s because of the way he always has twigs in his hair!”, “But you’ll never meet someone as sensitive and sweet.”, cooed a smaller troll. “He’s socially impaired!”, a gruff voice cut in, fondly ruffling his hair, “But a fixer upper is nothing love can’t fix!”.

And between the voices singing and the way your amused grin grew larger, Jungwon cried out with a large cry, “Enough!”. This made the trolls stop mid-movement, shocked at this outburst. “She’s engaged to someone else!”, he explained with a huff of his breath.

Blink. Blink.

The trolls gathered in a circle amongst themselves, the little snowman you both had managed to befriend along the way joining in on the shenanigans for no reason other than entertainment.

“So she’s a bit of a fixer upper too, I see”, said one of the trolls, and immediately the one opposite him replied, “She’s gotta be fixed up too!”, the rest agreed. Discussions in hushed whispers continued, still agreeing that the best way to fix these fixer uppers was with each other, until the smallest of the lot cut in with his nasally voice and a wink, “And by the way, there’s no ring”. The flurry of moss-woven blankets and the crowns fashioned of sticks was hurriedly put on the both of you, happening so fast that Jungwon couldn’t stop them. And just like that you giggled at the way he stood opposite you in the pit holed into the ground, the way his eyes widened in surprise. The giggle caught his attention, which made his gaze soften. He had indulged himself enough, but couldn’t bear to stop. The glowing gemstones made your complexion seem more ethereal than normal. The pit was rather small, and he was backed into his heels, your toes touching the tips of his snow boots. He was absolutely enraptured. In true love almost. It seemed that something possessed the both of you, the way he bent his neck just to be a little closer to where your lips were, soft and inviting. And you couldn’t find it in yourself to move away, any thought of the man you’d just met before you'd set off on this adventure with Jungwon disappearing from your brain. Sure he was wonderful. But you’d only known him for a day. But Jungwon, whom you’d known for a week now, still had so many layers to him that you wanted to peel back individually and unravel to learn. His eyes are dangerously low on your face, and you’re not any better. The trolls harmonizing behind you were counting down to when the thread holding you both back would just snap. Then, it did. He smells of pine, you thought, and he was losing his mind in the strawberry in your breath that he was sure he could taste if he just moved half an inch more. The sharp pain in your heart was so intense it had you buckling at the knees, making Jungwon deftly catch you in concern. Clutching your chest, a heavier rolling sound of stone made you both look to where the Elder Troll, who was awoken by the thrumming of magic, had appeared. Explaining the severity of your condition, and how the ice in your heart would have you frozen to death made Jungwon nervous. He couldn’t even fathom losing you like that, irregardless of how short of a time you’d known each other. He was sure that for you, he was ready to brave any snow storm. “And how do we stop it?”, he asked urgently, ready to do anything to have the cold in your heart to melt and for you to be better again. “Only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart.” Grandpabby said reverently. And Jungwon could almost feel his own heart freeze in a painful squeeze as you uttered your fiance’s name in a breath of cold air.

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bwabys-scenarios · 6 months

Text

Fixer Upper

Part 32

Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

pt 31

pt 33

A/N: sorry this took so long. There will be a 32.5 chapter next to celebrate Kurapika’s birthday.

warning: death, misogyny

taglist: @tsukilover11 @ashdownunderscorebeloved @sweetstraberrybear @superweeniehutjrsblog @bugmomwrites @heartsforseo @lixiawinter @altaircc @itszenava @fiightforlovee @mimi-sanisanidiot @wow-im-gay @whorermoviestar @lightshowerrr @mama-m1na @nenggie @wicked-binch @jamayah @themanicwriter01

If you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

As (Name) got ready to fight, the sound of whimpering and scraping filled the small enclosed space, making her wince. Before she could say anything, something started to crawl into the little guy from the middle of the tunnel.

“Oh my god.”

A centaur-like chimera ant led two human beings on leashes, forcing them to walk on their hands and knees. “Keep it down, you two.”

The ant pulled on their leashes, causing the poor men to choke. “Who are you guys? How dare you intrude on my turf?”

“Help… please help us!” one of the unfortunate men called out, tears running down his face. (Name) began to walk forward, but her arm was caught by Kite. He gave her a stern yet sympathetic look before letting her go. She bit her lip, staying in her spot.

“Stop talking Spot! You’re just a dog!”

(Name)’s eyes went wide with shock as the ant stomped on the man’s head, killing him instantly. Could she have saved him if she acted? “Oops, didn’t mean to do that. Oh well, I’m getting bored with these guys. Guess I’ll get rid of Rover, too.”

The surviving man panicked, trying his best to act like a pathetic, begging dog. It was a desperate attempt at survival, one that was in vain. “When you beg like that, I just want to kill you more.”

“STOP IT!”

Kite caught Gon’s arm this time as the boy lunged, causing him to look back. “Don’t move carelessly. There’s more than one enemy. They want you to rush over.”

Two more ants walked out of the separate caves, cackling as the centaur ended the other man’s life. Gon and (Name) looked away, which caused them to be scolded by Kite.

“Don’t look away! If they shoot a projectile your way, you won’t be able to see it.”

The two nodded slowly, and (Name) lightly brushed her hand against Gon’s, an attempt at comfort. It was her way of saying they were in this together, and that she understood. It wasn’t much, but his heartbeat did calm down slightly, and he couldn’t help but spare her a thankful glance.

“I’ve got it. You three will be my new dogs.”

(Name) tilted her head as the centaur ant the pointed to her. “And you? You will be my mate.”

The entire room went quiet, (Name) blinking rapidly, looking back at forth at the ant, Kite, Killua, and Gon. “Did… did I hear that correctly?”

Killua and Gon stood there in shock, looking both disgusted and angry at the same time. Kite looked as calm and collected as always, but he seemed slightly tense in his shoulders, as if he were holding himself back. “Chimera ants have always been aggressive, but it seems consuming malicious humans has made them even more evil.”

“H-huh? What do you mean?” Gon asked, still recovering from the chimera ant’s words. He hated that (Name) had been signaled out and disrespected. It only fueled his anger and resentment towards the creatures.

“Phagogenesis.” Killua answered.

“If we don’t deal with them here, many more will die!” Kite exclaimed. In response to his words, their auras spiked as they got ready to battle.

“Capture them!” the centaur ant ordered the other ants with a point of his finger, causing them to launch forward.

“I’ll take the one in the back. You boys will have to deal with the two rushing us. (Name) you’ll provide support, be ready to use your ability when needed.”

(Name) sighed in relief, then paused for a second to turn and look at Kite. She wanted to fight too, but she wouldn’t disobey him. There was most likely a very good reason he was making her stay back, either for her own well being, or for the boys’.

“Right!”

“Got it!

“Do not hesitate. You must fight to kill.”

As the two ran to fight the ants, Kite and (Name) stayed behind, staring down the centaur ant in front of them. It looked at her hungrily, licking its lips and chuckling under its breath. (Name) tried not to forget Kite’s words and kept a good eye on the beast, even when it grinned and purred lowly, biting its lip as it looked her up and down.

She was just glad the boys were there to see the way it looked at her, it grossed her out and was plainly disrespectful. Kite didn’t say anything, but stayed within an inch of her, his hip nearly touching hers. It was reassuring, a way for him to say he would protect her if needed.

“A lesson for you, (Name).” Kite said softly, his eyes trained on the ant. “A cocky opponent will let down their guard in front of someone they perceive as weak. Sometimes using your own weakness to your advantage is a good way to win a fight against someone that may be stronger than you.”

The ant watched as (Name) and Kite talked quietly, the two never looking away from it as they whispered back in forth. The creature sighed, cracking its neck in boredom.

“Hey. We should get started soon.”

Kite waves his hand dismissively. “Wait a little longer.”

“Screw that! You don’t have a choice in the matter,” it licked its lip, glancing between the two. “Now entertain me.”

“Very well.”

As Kite’s aura rose, (Name) darted to the left. The ant paid her no mind, focusing on the threat in front of him. She used this opportunity to go over to Killua, who had been injured during his fight.

(Name) approached him, crouching down to his level. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, the poison can’t-“

“Poison!?”

Killua groaned as she fussed over him, lifting up the back of his shirt. “Killua, does it not hurt? I’ll heal it, don’t worry.”

She placed her hand over the wound, closing her eyes in concentration. “It’ll feel better soon.”

He softened ever so slightly. (Name) was probably the only person that ever truly worried over him, that considered him a child. Gon cared about him sure, but he knew what Killua could and couldn’t take and didn’t worry.

But she worried regardless. When he was hurt, she wanted to make it better. As the wound stitched itself back together, he reached out and held her free hand. “Thanks, (Name).”

She smiled in reply, handing him a granola bar once it was healed. “Here, when I heal a wound it uses your stamina. Your stamina specifically is pretty high, but eating a snack will make sure you stay energetic.”

He took it, unwrapping the bar before taking a big bite. “Mmph… weird, I didn’t think I was that hungry…”

After devouring the bar, Killua joined the others, (Name) following behind him. “Oh it’s him!”

“The thing that shot us!”

Kite, having already defeated his enemy, had his nen activated. “I got a slot machine in my mouth! It goes from 1 to 9. Each number summons a different weapon. This is my Crazy Shot! Don’t forget the name!”

“Just go away…” Kite said, the weapon disappearing.

(Name) healed Gon’s wounds as the others talked, giving him a granola bar as well.

———————

As they made their way out of the cave, Kite continued to speak. (Name) didn’t pay much attention, too busy sorting through her backpack and trying to calm her nerves.

“Let’s hurry, the nest is close.”

That caught her attention.

The forest was dark, all of the animals had gone silent. It felt tense, especially when Gon looked to be on high alert. Usually, when Gon was tense, that meant something was about to happen. After all, his instincts were incredibly sharp.

Killua looked on guard as well, glancing between the gaps in the canopy. He stood close to (Name) as Kite sighed. “We’re surrounded.”

(Name) froze, the only part of her body that moved was her eyes. She searches the tree line for any movement, but it was too dark for her eyes to see.

“Their numbers are great.”

The bushes next to them exploded, along with things falling from the sky. They all landed in front of the four. “Now, then… let’s decide order and methodology. As for our targets, you have three choices. One..”

(Name) reached for Killua’s hand, trying to comfort herself more than him.

“Decide the order in which you will fight. Two, attempt to escape. Three, give up and let us capture you. If you choose option one, you will fight one-on-one battles with us for a chance to survive. I don’t recommend the second option. You’ll anger us, resulting in a brutal capture and prolonged suffering for all of you. Option three is out of the question. That would anger us even more than option two. So, what will you do?”

She felt like she was being leered at again. Each creature stared at her, licking their lips and making strange sounds.

Gon frowned. He was still feeling angry from the disrespect (Name) faced earlier, and from all of the death and pain those creatures had caused. “Kite.”

“We couldn’t have asked for a better deal. One-on-one fights with their Captains. We’ll start with whoever is prepared to fight.”

Killua stepped forward, in front of (Name). “I’ll go.”

“No I will!” Gon said, and the two immediately faced each other to play rock paper scissors. Gon was the Victor.

“Okay, I’m going first!”

————————

After Killua and Gon's fight, Kite pushed name to the front. "She'll be going next."

Killa froze, his hand shooting out to grab her arm.

"Wait, I can go again. She doesn't need to-"

"She's going, that's final."

His words left no room to argue. Killua let go of (Name) hesitantly, a slight shake in his hand for a split second before he was able to hide it.

... Killua, I'll be okay. I've been training too, remember?"

She handed him her backpack, taking a deep breath.

"Watch that for me, okay?"

The other chimera ants chittered and laughed as her opponent stepped forward. The creature was tall, looking like a large, muscular moth with brown wings. It stared down are her, it’s shadow covering her completely. “This is who I get to fight? She’s the size of a baby bear. I could crush her with one hand.”

“Did… did you just compare me to a bear?”

The ant attempted to reach its massive hand out to crush her head, but she dodged to the side. “H-hey, we haven’t started fighting y-“

The ant kneed her in the stomach, sending her flying in the opposite direction. “(Name)!”

Killua began to run forward to go and help her, but was pulled back by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t. You’ll only provoke the rest of them and make (Name) lose focus.”

The boy growled, planting his feet on the ground. He watched as she slowly got back up as the massive chimera ant approached her. “Done already? And after those two children showed you up. How pathetic.”

She wiped the blood from her mouth silently, her aura spiking. “Huh, it really does take just a single touch.”

The ant blinked in confusion as its comrades watched on in horror. The leg it used to kick her was withering away, the pain only now catching up to it. “W-what did you do to me!?”

It tried to rush her, but fell as the effect spread, causing him to fall as his legs became nothing but ash. She easily stepped out of its range. “I’m just speeding up what would have happened to you anyways. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust as they say.”

With that, her fight was over. As she joined the others, Gon and Killua stared on in awe and a bit of fear. “(Name), that was-“

“Scary.” Killua finished Gon’s sentence.

She smiled tiredly, sitting down. “Yeah, it’s something Kite suggested I try. Took a lot out of me and I had to get pretty close to my enemy to use it, but I think I can train myself to eventually have more control over it. Maybe I can even eventually use it from a distance someday!”

Kite walked forward, summoning his weapon as the others chatted.

“That’s enough… it’s my turn!”

The frog like ant stepped forward as Crazy Slots rolled a 2. “Two, huh? Damn, bad spin.”

A scythe appeared in his hands, the blade so long it nearly wrapped around him.

“Killua, (Name)…”

“That scythe is nasty.”

“Gon, Killua, (Name). In three seconds, jump up.”

And they did, all three of them leaping into the air and barely missing the attack that wiped out the entire group of chimera ants.

“Be cautious as we advance. As I mentioned, that won’t be enough to kill them immediately. Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“It’s only getting worse from here. If you start to sympathize with the enemy, you won’t be able to handle what’s coming.”

“Im fine. I have no sympathy for bugs that call each other trash.”

Kite, Gon, (Nams), and Killga headed towards the Chimera Ant Queen’s castle to prevent the king’s birth.

————————

They continued their journey, (Name) struggling a little to keep up after using her ability. She absentmindedly munched on a granola bar, Killua staying back a little to keep an eye on her.

They all stopped when Kite did, waiting for him to speak. “We’re being followed.”

They quickly turned around. “Not from there.”

He looked up, frowning. “There’s quite a number of them.”

Several Chimera ants flew in the air, one more humanoid than the rest. The four now raced through the trees, Killua seemingly angry at how clueless he had been.

“They’re coming from the left and the right. Keep up your guard.” Kite informed them just as a dragonfly like chimera ant flew towards them. The sound of its wings buzzing was so loud that it made (Name)’s ears hurt.

She attempted to seat one away, but they were way too fast. When she tried to get close to use her ability. They hid behind trees. “Crap!”

“The trees are getting in the way!” Gon exclaimed, getting frustrated over the same thing.

“Yeah.”

“Shouldn’t we get out of the forest?” Gon asked, his brow furrowing as another chimera ant weaves through the trees.

“This is a trap.”

———————

(Name) yawned, rubbing her eyes as Kite easily dispatched the chimera ants. They left the woods, the chimera ant that planned to attack them backing off once he sensed he was outclassed by Kite.

“He was able to understand that he was outclassed, and he calmly backed down at once. Most likely, he was a squadron leader.”

They watched as the chimera ants backed away. “We’re following them. Their nest must be nearby. If we follow them, we will find the Queen.”

The three ran through the night as the moon shown over them. Kite used his En to track the chimera ants, nodding. “They’re continuing to go straight. The Chimera Ant nest must be up ahead.”

“Amazing… he’s been picking them up the entire time, never losing them for an instant.” Killua said, hanging back with Gon and (Name).

“Kite said he could use En within a radius of forty-five meters.”

“I’ve heard that those called Nen masters can handle around fifty meters. Kite is nearly there. Actually, given that he’s kept it up for an entire night, he’s probably stronger.”

“Stronger than… a master… the Kite’s the real deal.”

“Yeah, he’s the first real pro Hunter we’ve met.”

(Name) smiled, listening in to their conversation. As they continued to speak, she couldn’t help but feel lucky to have Kite as her teacher. She held onto her backpack straps, watching as Kite continued to walk at a steady pace.

He was… quite handsome, the more she thought about it. Not only that, but he was intelligent and kind. He was kind enough to teach her on an important mission, even though she was noticeably weaker than Gon and Killua, who he already considered a liability if they couldn’t take care of themselves.

The fact he even offered them a chance to leave showed he cared. An uncaring man wouldn’t care if a few kids and a girl died due to their own weakness, but he obviously was not that type of man.

This revelation made her cheeks heat up. Did she… no, there was no way she had some sort of crush on him. She liked Kurapika!

But…

‘He obviously… doesn’t like me…’ her heart twisted in her chest. The memory of his words made her want to curl up into a ball and die.

“This is a pretty brutal place for training, though.”

(Name) began listening back into their conversation to distract herself. Kite responded to Killua’s words. “That’s why I keep asking if your resolve is firm. As you mentioned, Ging had certain expectations when he sent you to me. But I do not intend to train you during this journey. We don’t have that kind of time.”

Soft moonlight trickled through the trees as they continued on. To (Name), it felt like that night was lasting forever.

“I brought you te along because I thought you might be of use, and (Name) because I have a duty to fulfill. From here, it comes down to your resolve. If it’s strong, you’ll develop nen and grow strong via combat. If it’s weak, the ants will eat you.”

The three nodded slowly.

“But we can’t die. We are pro Hunters. Those who call themselves Hunters always get their prey. For Hunters, that is the first commandment. A hunt involves both Hunter and prey. It is a battle of resolve. Emerging victorious from a battle of resolve is what makes a successful hunt. The loser has to follow the winner’s rules and customs. Usually, this means the loser’s death.”

“Rules…”

(Name) paused by a small waterfall, for a moment she had an idea, hearing Gon repeat the word… but it was gone with the wind as soon as Kite continued to speak.

“If you don’t want that result, then win. Improving your nen is important, of course. But to be a successful Hunter, you must understand the enemy and yourself.”

(Name) went quiet again, the sounds of their voices fading away. During this time spent with Kite, Gon, and Killua, she had seen so much death and destruction. Even though it had been said so many times before, her very human mind couldn’t seem to comprehend the possibility of her own death.

Sure, she had thoughts of suicide and even made a few attempts, but she couldn’t quite get the concept of her life being in danger. How many times had she nearly died during the Hunter Exam alone? It was all a bit fuzzy… especially in the beginning when she was still so lost in the dark.

Kurapika had been that light that made the fog clear away. But now… it was as if he was the very fog itself, making the way in front of her unseeable. His words and actions had plunged her back into the abyss she had tried so hard to climb out of.

And part of her resented him for it.

She shook that thought from her head, her heart pouding in her chest. No, no she could never hate or resent him. Kurapika was the person she loved with her entire heart… she didn’t want to feel this way.

So, for the first time, she pushed down those feelings she had for him, attempting to cover them up with her feelings of love and affection. It felt suffocating, almost like her throat was swelling up, but it felt a hell of a lot better than trying to accept that she was human and felt anger for her she had been treated.

She didn’t want to hate him.

By the time she had recovered, Kite sat down on a small, flat boulder. “Ah. That’s right… I just remembered.”

He took out a Hunter’s license, holding it out to Gon. “A Hunter license?”

“This is Ging’s.”

“Huh? Ging’s?”

As they spoke, (Name) and Killua hung back a little. Killua, ever perceptive reached out to grab her sleeve. “You alright?”

She thought for a second before nodding. “Yeah, just… a bit tired, is all.”

After they finished talking, (Name) and Killua rejoined the pair. “Kite…”

He looked up as she spoke, noticing the slight heat in her cheeks. “Thank you… for bringing me. Even though…”

She paused for a moment. “Even though I’m not strong like the others. I-“

“(Name).”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Do you truly think I would have taken you with me if I didn’t believe you could handle yourself? You’ve already proven yourself, so why do you still doubt your own strength?”

Her eyes were wide with surprise. Kite… thought she was strong? “I…”

Before she could say anything else, Kite stood up and walked towards the cliff’s edge, sweat bearing down his face. His eyes darkened as he looked over the landscape. “That’s a monster…”

He crouched down, muttering to himself. “What is this? I don’t believe it!”

“What’s wrong, Kite?” Gon asked as the three approached him.

“Gon, Killua, (Name). Run!”

“Huh?”

“Hurry up! Get out of here!”

(Name) stood there, taking a single step back and reaching to grab the boys.

“Get away from me!”

It all happened so fast. As Kite moved to block the way, (Name) yanked Gon and Killua back with all of her strength. Because she was so focused, she didn’t notice what happened to Kite until it was too late.

The sound of something falling onto the ground made her look up. Her eyes widened in terror, anger beginning to well up in her chest.

Kite’s arm was lying on the ground, blood gushing from the wound. Killua and Gon were in shock, trembling in both fear and anger as the Chimera Ant before them regarded the three with malicious so intense it made the air freeze inside their lungs.

It was a cat like creature, with a human looking face. The creature was no taller than (Name), but gave off the aura of a natural born killer.

Seeing Kite’s missing arm, both Gon and (Name) began to tremble in anger. As Gon charged up, (Name) got ready to heal him at a moments notice, the grass around her wilting.

Killua slammed his hand in Gon’s neck, knocking him out cold. But he was too late to do the same to (Name).

Unfortunately, she had caught the ant’s attention.

The second the ant laid eyes on (Name), it tensed up, it’s hair fluffy up as if it were a cat encountering a predator.

‘That woman… her power… it’s a danger to the future king!’

Killua picked up Gon, ready to grab (Name)’s hand, but was stopped when the Chimera Ant took a step towards her. (Name)’s aura instantly died down, the terror or being that beast’s main focus making her body freeze on the spot.

“Go! Now!”

Kite summoned his watching, catching the attention of the ant again. As soon as it wasn’t looking at (Name), Killua grabbed her hand and began to run.

There was no way for her to keep up with him, so she was dragged along, flying through the air. “Kite!”

She watched, tears rolling down her cheeks as Kite turned to face the monstrous being. He said nothing, but held a thumbs up, before getting into a fighting position.

——————

As the night continued on, rain began to fall over the three. After getting a good distance away, Killua slowed down enough so (Name) wasn’t being dragged behind him like a rag doll.

She breathed out a sigh of relief, jogging next to him. Soon, the ground would become to slick to run on, so they moved as quickly as they could.

Even after getting several miles away, she could still feel the effects of that… thing’s aura. It made her skin crawl, every sound making her flinch. She half expected something to jump out at them from the shadows, bearing its teeth and ready to devour them.

They had all been too overconfident. The three of them were still weaker than Kite who’d lost an arm. That thing knew… but…

(Name) turned to see Killua glancing at her. ‘Why did that thing react to (Name) that way?’

Sure, Killua knew that her power was frightening, but it wasn’t nearly as strong or developed as Gon or Killua’s. What made her the one in need of eliminating? Why did she of all people catch that thing’s attention?

As the sun rose, (Name) stumbled along behind Killua, her legs shaky with exhaustion. She had never ran that much in her life, the Hunter Exam was a piece of cake compared to the previous night.

It didn’t take long for their guides to notice them as they walked across the desert again. It was all (Name) could do to not pass out as they helped her up into the horse. She held Gon in her lap, Killua riding on the other horse.

“…”

The ride back to where they began was quiet, the two occasionally exchanging a worried glance. Was Kite okay?

Had they just left him to die?

The two carried Gon, setting him down at the base of the tree once they finally arrived at the embassy. (Name) plopped down onto the ground, rubbing her swollen legs.

She silently took a granola bar out of her bag and handed it to Killua, who ate it without a word.

She laid her shirt out in the sun, putting on her cardigan to keep warm as they recovered from the long night they had experienced.

Killua took out his phone and called Kite’s friends, (Name) keeping Gon’s head in her lap. She gently brushed his wet hair out of his face, trying to stay strong for the boys.

They confirmed they were headed their way with reinforcements, so the two just waited together.

(Name) reached out and held Killua’s hand, squeezing it lightly as the truck carrying Kite’s friends and backup rolled up. He felt like a coward for leaving Kite behind, a weakling, but (Name) understood what they were up against.

Three men stepped out of the car, approaching the two. Netero was at the front of the pack, while the other two followed behind. The man to his left was tall, with a muscular body and gray hair and tan skin. The man on Netero’s right was tall and thin, wearing a business suit and glasses.

“That’s Chairman Netero…” Killua whispered, (Name) nodding slowly.

“What’s this? It’s just a bunch of kids. If you’re here to play, you’ll get burned. Go back home,” the muscular man said, grinning. He was carrying something big and heavy over his back that made him lean forward slightly, a testimony to his strength.

(Name) and Killua frowned. They both knew that they weren’t any ordinary kids, and (Name) was an adult!

“Stop it, Morel. That isn’t nice… they’re only children,” the man in a suit spoke. (Name) squeezed Killua’s hand, her eyes trained on the two.

Netero let out a little laugh, looking down at Killua. “You look pretty defeated. Was the enemy that strong?”

He said this with no malice. Netero knew that the three in front of him were no amateurs. The enemy they had faced was strong, so strong that even Kite lost an arm to it.

“One of them could use nen. That was the worst aura I’ve ever encountered. You guys are unbelievably strong, but I still can’t see you defeating that thing…” Killua said softly, looking down.

“Whenever humans encounter the unknown, they tend to lose perspective. Currently you’re experiencing a state of panic. We’ll take it from here, so go lie in bed.” the man in a suit said, looking down at the three as if they were toddlers that needed a nap.

(Name)’s eyebrow twitched, and her grip on Killua’s hand tightened.

“Haha, you’re no better than I am, Knov,” Morel, the muscular man said. “Kid… the minute you start talking about who can win in a nen fight, you’re wrong. In most cases, you won’t know your opponents abilities. One instant of carelessness is all it takes to turn the tables and cost a life. You can’t make assumptions based on the amount of aura displayed. The battle can turn at any point. That’s what fighting with nen means. But, regardless… you must always fight certain of victory! That is a nen user’s spirit. The moment you were overwhelmed by the opponent’s aura and fled, you were disqualified. You’re lower than a loser!”

With his last words, (Name) stood up. “The hell did you just say?”

She stepped forward, her nen spiking. “I’ve had just about enough of your high and mighty talk. If you had been out there in front of that thing, I bet at least one of you would have cried like a little bitch.”

Killua watched this, his eyes going wide. “(Name), stop it, they’re-“

She held up her hand. “And another thing, does it make you feel big and tough to pick on someone smaller than you? Do you feel like a real man when calling a child a loser after making a really hard decision that saved all of our lives? Why I should-“

She raised her fist, but Netero caught it. “That’s enough, (Name).”

Morel looked down at her as if taking her presence in for the first time. He snorted, reaching out his large hand to ruffle her hair. “Looks like this one has some spunk. Kite’s message was right, this girl has potential.”

Netero nodded, examining her aura. “Kite said that you’ve figured out your nen type?”

She nodded slowly, still trying to fix her hair after it was ruffled. “… yes.”

He nodded, looking to Killua. “Is Gon asleep?”

Killua stayed silent for a minute, only relaxing when he saw (Name) wasn’t in any immediate danger. “He was going to attack the enemy, so I used force to stop him. I didn’t have time to control my strength, so I don’t know when he’ll wake up.”

Morel laughed. “That kid shows some promise then.”

“Morel!”

“It’s difficult to believe that giant chimera ants are eating humans, but since it appears to be true, we must keep casualties to a minimum. If we send fighters who aren’t strong enough, they’ll only strengthen the enemy. Do you understand?”

“Yeah…”

Netero began to walk away, but turned the last second. “We sent two assassins to the nearest village. It’s your decision whether you want to fight. But you must defeat them before you come. If you wish to live as a Hunter… we are not desperate for help. We only seek the strong. That being said…”

He paused for just a moment. “(Name)… you will be coming back, guaranteed, if that’s what you wish.”

She blinked, pointing to herself. “Me..? You want… you want me to come back? Why-“

“There is no time to explain. If you wish to come, then use the time to train and refine your ability. Once the victors between Killua and Gon and the assassins are decided, you will come back with them.”

He threw two playing pieces, Killua catching them immediately.

Killua squeezed her hand, preventing her from accepting or declining.

She thought about Netero’s words on the way to the village. All she could think about was how did her abilities even compare to anyone present, and why weren’t Killua and Gon the ones picked?

(Name) took her turn carrying Gon on her back as walked into town.

She raised an eyebrow as Killua looked over a note left on a blackboard.

To: Gon and Killua

‘Will you fight?’

——————

(Name) and Killua sat at Gon’s side as he rested in bed. It was late in the afternoon, the sun filtering in through the window harsh on the two.

The entire way there, Killua had been completely silent. She didn’t blame him for that, the professional Hunters’ words had been harsh, but had a bit of truth to him. There was only so much comfort she could give him without making it seem like it was out of pity. That was the last thing he needed right now, to be coddled as if he was just a child.

She wasn’t surprised when Gon began to stir, raising his hand to block the light from his eyes.

“Killua… thank.”

Killua looked down, his eyes darkening. “Why would you thank me?”

“Weren’t you the one who stopped me? Had I lost control back there, I would’ve gotten in Kite’s way. Then, all four of us could have died.”

“But I… let Kite die…”

“Kite is alive! He wouldn’t ever let that thing beat him! But considering his injury, he’d have a hard time moving around. So he’s probably hiding. Waiting for us to return! So we should hurry back… once we’ve become stronger! To save Kite!”

(Name) watched the two, her gaze softening. Before her eyes, she was watching Killua’s heart open up, watching him fall in love.

“Let’s go. To become stronger!”

(Name) grinned, grabbing both of their hands and leading them to the bathroom. “But first, you two both need a bath and a change of clothes, pronto!”

She walked through town with them after they both bathed and had a meal.

“What are those?”

“Tokens. You take a piece of marked wood and split it, giving each half to a different person. They work as proof that you’re an ally, or to authenticate a document.”

(Name) stopped, ordering them all some ice cream at a stall before walking back and handing it all out. The three continued their journey, now with a special treat.

“In this case, each of the two assassins holds one matching token. We defeat them and take the tokens.”

They went back to the blackboard to see it had been erased. As (Name) licked her ice cream, the feeling of being watched made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“You must be Killua, Gon, and (Name).”

She jumped, turning to see a frightening looking woman behind them. Her hair was long and unkept, her eyes big and staring.

“Nice to meet you… my name is Palm. It’s a pleasure.”

It certainly didn’t seem like a pleasure, a black aura hung around her and her voice sounded far from happy.

“Boys, stranger danger.”

(Name) stood in front of them, hiding the two behind her back.

“Oh my… no need to be so tense. I imagine the chairman probably didn’t provide many details. Allow me to explain. Why don’t we have some tea?”

She began to walk away, and (Name) looked at the two. “Holy… boys, I think we just had a first hand encounter with an otherworldly spirit.”

“That’s not very nice (Name).”

“Gon, I’m with (Name). That was terrifying.”

The three reluctantly followed the women, (Name) and Killua grimacing every time she turned back to stare at them.

———————

“I am a student of Mr. Knov. He said I would only get in his way. But I insisted on accompanying him.”

“Who’s that?” Gon asked as the woman before them stirred a spoonful of sugar into her tea.

“She probably means one of the guys with Chairman Netero.”

“Yes, the one wearing a black suit. My teacher is an incredible person. Cool, intelligent, composed… ah, composed and cool mean the same thing!”

(Name) grimaced as the sugar began to pile in Palm’s cup, peeking over the edge as she poured more and more in. “Ah dear… oh, but I only respect him, that’s all. There’s nothing romantic about my feelings… at least I may wish that were the case.”

She continued to ramble, (Name) glancing at the boys. Killua met her gaze, shaking his head.

‘She’s nuts.’

After she finished speaking, Palm drank the tea, making the three wince. “No one can say what will happen… after all love is a spontaneous thing, don’t you agree?”

“Uh, can I interrupt you? Aren’t we supposed to fight you?” Killua asked.

“Huh? Oh dear… yes, I apologize. The chairman and my teacher said I couldn’t accompany them any farther. But I insisted on going with them. It feels like I spent a lifetime just trying to convince them of my determination. And finally they relented, with one condition.”

“Uh, I’m asking about…”

“My teacher may appear to be a cold person, but he’s actually quite gentle. But you have to spend a lot of time with him to realize that. Ah, by “spending time with him,” I don’t mean-“

“Okay, we get it! What’s the condition?!”

(Name) jumped when Killua snapped, finally having enough of the woman’s ramblings. She nearly had a heart attack when the woman went silent, glaring at them.

“Knuckle and Shoot’s defeat. To think those vulgar, barbaric unmannered brats will be allowed inside NGL before me… I cannot allow that!”

Palm’s aura rose, causing her drink to overflow, spilling onto (Name) and Gon. “Miss Palm, turn off your hatsu!”

———————

(Name) huffed, using the bathroom sink to wet a napkin before dabbing at the stain on her dress. It was one she just bought that day, and she could tell it would be a tough stain to get out later.

‘Damn crazy lady… I need to get back to Gon and Killua before-‘

(Name) nearly jumped out of her skin when her phone rang. She nearly dropped it as she pulled it out of her pocket, her hands still wet while she struggled to unlock it.

“H-hello?”

The line was silent for a moment, and (Name) glanced at the number.

It wasn’t one she recognized.

“This is (Name) (Last Name), correct?”

But she recognized the voice all too well.

“C-Chrollo!?”

Her blood ran cold, the stain on her dress suddenly irrelevant. “Good, it seems you remember me. That makes this much easier.”

The line went quiet again, except for the sound of rustling paper. “I request a favor from you, (Name).”

“A… favor?”

Her jaw dropped in disbelief, her phone nearly falling with it, but she caught it just in time.

“Yes, a favor. What’s the saying… you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours? I need you to do something for me, and in exchange I will give you information that would be useful to you.”

She gritted her teeth, her grip on her phone increasing. “You’re a murderer, you killed the Kurta clan without any mercy, why would I ever-“

“Because I have information on the scarlet eyes.”

She paused, taking several seconds to process that information. Not a word was uttered as he continued.

“Your little boyfriend wants the eyes back, no? Then why don’t we form a little… truce?”

“Truce?”

She could hear him chuckle on the other end. “Yes, after you do this favor for me, perhaps we can form somewhat of an alliance… but with one condition. I will not use any means to get to the chain user through you, but you will not give the chain user any information on us that could lead to him finding our location or harming us.”

He worded himself carefully, keeping his voice neutral. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he probably had some loophole in mind, but the information he might have was too precious to pass up.

“… tell what the favor is. I’ll decide if I’ll do it after.”

She could almost hear the smug smirk he wore in his voice. “A member of the Phantom Troupe was injured in a job, and no one else is close enough to their location to help.”

(Name) frowned. “And you want me to help them?”

“Yes, that would be what I called you for. You have healing abilities, do you not?”

“How did y-“

He cut her off with a chuckle before she could even finish her sentence. “I have my ways. That’s not important though, what is of higher importance is whether you’ll do this favor or not.”

On one hand, if she didn’t accept this favor, a member of the phantom troupe would potentially die, lightening Kurapika’s load. On the other hand, the information Chrollo had was priceless, considering he was the one that sold all of the scarlet eyes in the first place.

“… alright, I’ll do this favor for you. But don’t get it twisted, this isn’t an alliance. It’s give and take, nothing more and nothing less.”

“And that’s fine.” Chrollo said, letting out a sigh. “I’ll send over the information via text message within the next 5 minutes.”

And with that, he ended the call. (Name) stared down at her phone, her heart heavy. ‘I wonder if I’ll… regret this one day.’

She dropped the napkin she had been using to wipe her dress into the trash, her hands shaking slightly when she opened the door.

As soon as she got back to the table, Killua noticed her strange behavior. His eyes darted from her shaky hands to the scowl on her face. “You alright?”

“Yeah… just saw a spider in the bathroom.”

Neither Killua or Gon felt comfortable with (Name) splitting off from them, but she was adult and they couldn’t really stop her.

“It’s alright, I’m just going some shopping. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

She tried to put them at ease, but Killua wasn’t easily fooled. He watched her leave, his stomach hurting. Killua didn’t quite understand why he felt so uneasy watching her go, but he knew that she wasn’t just going shopping.

“She’ll be okay, Killua.”

The white haired boy glanced back to Gon, who was smiling brightly. “She’s strong, we both saw what she could do in NGL.”

“Yeah, but…”

As her silhouette disappeared within the crowd of people, Killua couldn’t help but worry.

“She was never this nervous in NGL.”

———————

The directions Chrollo sent were concise and easy to follow, so much so that it was almost eerie. He correctly assumed there would be heavier foot traffic in some areas, and estimated the time she would get there with that in mind.

The location was a small, dingy motel on the outskirts of town. The lobby smelled like mothballs and piss, and the walls were stained a nasty yellow from years of guests smoking inside. ‘Gross…’

“Can I help you?”

The woman at the front desk spoke lazily, blowing out a puff of cigarette smoke between sentences.

“Um, yes. I’m here to visit the person in room 204.”

The woman waved her hand, pointing down the hall. Without another word, (Name) began following where she pointed.

The air felt thick, and it wasn’t just the cigarette smoke. Someone’s nen was making the air heavy with rage and frustration. ‘Must be the phantom troupe member…’

She knocked on room 204’s door, flinching when someone yelled out. “Hurry up!”

And yet again, she recognized that voice, groaning internally. When she opened the door, she saw the interrogator of the Phantom Troupe sitting on the edge of the messy bed, shirtless. He looked beyond irritated, tapping his foot and grumbling under his breath.

“Uh… Chrollo sent me to-“

“Already know. Get over with.”

She stood still for just a moment, but moved quickly went he sent her a glare. “Can I see the-“

He showed her his back, and she couldn’t help wincing at the sight. Large gashes, deep enough for her to be amazed she wasn’t seeing bone stretched out across his back.

“Stupid bitch… hit me when back turned, coward…” Feitan grumbled, shaking in anger. He didn’t wince in the slightest as she placed her palms over the wound, only growling out in warning.

“This is pretty bad… I’m not sure how much I can heal you with my current abilities.”

Feitan glanced back at her, a scowl on his face. “Just do it. Take too long.”

(Name) huffed, concentrating her aura into her hands and closing her eyes so she could focus on envisioning his flesh knitting back together, of the skin turning pink with scar tissue instead of being a deep red. Within a few minutes, sweat was pouring down her forehead as she finished, panting softly.

His back was still scarred and sensitive to the touch, but she had sped up the healing process to the point it looked like he had received the scars months ago.

Feitan stood up and looked in the mirror, nodding slowly. “Chrollo call you later. Leave.”

With that, he walked to the bathroom turning to watch her go. She took the hint, not wanting to anger a member of the Phantom Troupe.

As she walked down the street, she saw a man walking down the street, shouting into a megaphone and wearing sighs. His black pompadour caught her eyes…

“My name is Knuckle Bine! I am a beast hunter! I challenge the two punitive force candidates to a duel! Come tonight at midnight sharp, and face me! I won’t try to run or hide. I won’t bring any weapons or allies. It’ll just be me and me alone. So come and fight me!”

(Name) sighed, continuing down the street. ‘That’s Knuckle, one of the people Killua and Gon have to defeat. He hasn’t mentioned where they’re supposed to meet, though…’

“A man never turns his back on an enemy! I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth, you won’t get away!”

She stayed neutral, trying not to react to his words. If she gave any sort of reaction, it might clue him in to the fact that she was in fact allied with Gon and Killua, which could be bad for her.

As (Name) made her way back to their hotel, a few shopping bags in hand to make sure Gon and Killua weren’t suspicious of her, she felt… strangely tired. Healing Feitan had taken a lot out of her, and she didn’t know if she would be able to hide that exhaustion from the others.

Opening the door to their room, (Name) nearly jumped when she spotted Bisky training the boys in the middle of the room.

“B-Bisky?”

The woman turned quickly, her hands on her hips. “Finally, you’re back. You’ll be joining their training as well. Start with Ren.”

She blinked for a moment, yelping when the blonde whacked her on the head. “I said start with Ren!”

“Y-yes ma’am!”

After she went into ren, Bisky nodded. “Maintain that for three hours.”

The three looked shocked. “Killua…” Gon whispered, frowning. “How long can you last?”

“I’m too condition, I can manage around 55 minutes max.”

(Name)’s jaw dropped. ‘55 minutes? I don’t think I can even last 15…’

“Until you complete this, we can’t move on to the next step. Train like your lives are on the line!”

(Name) passed out after maintaining nen for a whopping 30 minutes after being forced to do it over and over.

‘She’s far behind the other two…’ Bisky thought, watching as the other two laid in a crumpled pile with her. ‘Yet Netero wants her to be the only guaranteed member that gets to go back to NGL… I’ll have to observe her further to see what that old man has planned.’

“Okay, you can rest for today! Tomorrow behind in 30 minutes. Looks like it’s time for me to use my power.”

She summoned Cookie-chan, who gave the three relief with a gentle massage as they slept.

——————

(Name) woke up to her cheek being pinched lightly. “Hey, girl. Go get us some drinks, you still need time to recover. Even with cookie-chan, there was still some severe exhaustion that even she couldn’t fix.”

Bisky gave her a look, as if inspecting her. (Name) stood quickly, avoiding the glances from Gon and Killua. “Okay, I’ll go. I should be back soon.”

The second (Name) was out the door, Bisky turned to the other two. “So, what do you two think of her?”

Killua grunted, struggling to maintain Ren. “Do we have to answer r-right now?”

Bisky raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

Gon went first, a determined look on his face. “(Name) is our good friend. She’s kind, and her nen ability is a testament to that.”

Killua smiled, looking at the ground. “Yeah… she uses it mostly for healing, but while we were fighting the chimera ants, she completely destroyed it with her nen.”

Bisky raised an eyebrow. “How exactly? What’s her ability?”

“Time, I think. Specifically the ability to speed up the growth rate of cells.”

Bisky paused, her eyes going wide. At this stage in her nen journey, (Name) shouldn’t have been able to completely destroy a foe with her nen. If she was this strong now, there was no telling how her ability would develop given time and training.

‘Netero… what do you have planned?’

(Name) walked down the street back towards the hotel. She had a bag of drinks in one arm, and some takeout in the other. Bisky had them training the entire night, not giving her the chance to get some dinner. ‘I’m so hungry, but that training made me so nauseous…’

She sat on a park bench, sleepily munching on her food. Maybe she could get a few minutes of sleep before she had to head back…

Before she could lay down and catch a few minutes of sleep, she heard a man call out to her. (Name) groaned internally, her eyelids heavy as she sat up.

“Hey, you!”

The man stomped over, and it was way too late for (Name) to do anything by the time she recognized him. It was the man from earlier, Knuckle.

“Ya think it’s safe to be sleeping on a random bench in the middle of the night!?”

She blinked, staring up at the man as he glowered down at her. “Um…”

“There’s a pervert on the loose, don’t you read the damn newspaper!? Tsk…”

He had took one of his hands out of his pockets. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

(Name) stared at his hand for a moment, biting back a smile. “How can I be sure you’re not the pervert?”

His face erupted into a red blush, and he began stuttering. “W-would never! It’s not manly to force yourself on a woman!”

She laughed, taking his hand. “I’m just kidding. You seem harmless enough.”

Knuckles was still pretty flustered, leading her away by the hand. “W-which way?”

“Just to the next block, I can walk by myself from there.”

He didn’t answer, probably still recovering. Once they reached her stop, he stood firm, crossing his arms over his chest. “Go on, I’ll make sure no one follows ya.”

She smiled, giving him a wave before she began her walk back to the hotel.

‘Gon and Killua will like him, he’s a nice guy.’

After she was out of his view, her smile dropped as her phone buzzed. She had a feeling she knew who it was, but looked at the contact just to be sure.

Chrollo: Here’s the information, as promised.

(Name) swallowed, looking over the pictures and walls of text. Once it was all saved she forwarded it to Leorio. Kurapika had blocked her, so she knew he wouldn’t answer her.

After she sent the text, Leorio called her instantly. It was late where (Name) was, but mid afternoon for Leorio. “(Name), where the hell did you get this information..?”

“… do you really want to know..?”

Leorio sighed. “Yes, of course. It couldn’t have been easy to get.”

“Yeah,” she said, rubbing her temple. “Working with the Phantom Troupe is a real headache.”

The line went silent as she continued walking.

“The WHAT!?”

—————————

Kurapika sipped on some coffee, reading the text Leorio had just sent him. There was information in at least two pairs of scarlet eyes, containing the buyers name and last known location.

‘How he got this info, I have no idea.’ Kurapika thought, setting down his drink. ‘But it’s too good to pass up.’

He stretched, glancing at the clock. Kurapika’s shift to guard Neon started in only 15 minutes, something that made him groan tiredly. He had only gotten a few hours of sleep the night before, his nightmares making a restful night impossible.

But unlike usual, it wasn’t images of his dead clan and their missing eyes that haunted his nightmares.

No, it was the image of (Name), her face unrecognizable after being smashed in. He didn’t know how his mind knew it was her, but he did.

“Why weren’t you here, Pika? Why didn’t you protect me?”

That’s the only thing she said, repeating as the bloody gore that was her face shifted and melted away, leaving only her crushed skull in its wake. Empty sockets stared back at him, the dark holes swallowing him up…

And that’s when he shot awake. As he stared up at the clock, now only 5 minutes remaining before he had to start his shift, he tried to push away the awful memory of his dream.

She was safe because of his absence. He… he hadn’t put her in danger, and she didn’t need his protection. That’s what he kept telling himself as he smoothed out his suit jacket and combed out his messy hair.

‘I… hope she’s okay.’

With one last look at the cardigan he had woken up with weeks ago, Kurapika left his hotel room, ready to start his day.

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