#and hisoka's makes me sob

[ginjithewanderer]

A3! Home Screen Lines - Kazunari's Birthday 2023

[michimichim]

Truth or Dare • Giselle (aespa)

spring nights are made for risky decisions—at least that’s what your girl, Giselle, seems to think. between the jacuzzi steam and vodka shots, you’re (willingly) trapped in her games: alluring smiles, cherry gloss, and hands that promise a good time.

contains: g!p female reader, semi-public shenanigans, breeding kink, alcohol use

The kitchen is mostly quiet now, except for the lazy thump of a playlist no one’s really listening to anymore. You’re squinting at a bottle of something clear and suspicious (tequila? Drain cleaner?) when the breeze drags in the smell of wet grass and something floral through the screen door. 

The counter’s a graveyard of party debris: Solo cups with lipstick smudges, a bowl of ice that’s now a bowl of disappointment, crumbled chips everywhere. 

You grab a glass that’s “clean” if you don’t look close, dump in sweaty ice, and pour. First sip? Regret in liquid form - It hits like a car crash. You grimace, stab a sad-looking lime carcass with a butter knife (‘cause all the spoons vanished hours ago), and squeeze it in.

Stir with the knife. Chug.

“Fuck my life,” you rasp.

No ragrets.

This isn’t how you’d usually spend a Thursday night. You’d rather be elbow-deep in that dog-eared copy of HunterxHunter you’ve read six times - but spring air does stupid things to a person. Like agreeing to a party because Giselle whispered ‘come on, it’ll be fun’ against your neck, teeth tugging your earlobe like you weren’t mid-rant about Hisoka’s… whatever Hisoka’s deal is. Traitorous, weak-willed creature, you.

And yet - Giselle’s mouth on you, her nails digging into your thigh as she hissed “stop being a hermit,”- got you here, choking down a drink that tastes like battery acid and fucked decisions.

You reach for a napkin, elbow knocking the bottle. It sloshes, drenching your hoodie sleeve. “Goddamnit—”

That’s when a laugh seeps through the room, bright, venomous, the kind that makes necks snap.

“-literally ate shit in the bushes,” Giselle’s saying, voice dripping mock sympathy. You briefly glance up. She’s strolling in with Ning glued to her side, both giggling. She’s holding her phone up like a compact, swiping gloss over her lips before puckering them into a ‘O’. 

Ning swipes a half-empty bottle of Prosecco off the counter, swigs straight from the neck.

“Cried over his Jordans,” Giselle adds, snapping her phone shut. “Like they weren’t fake anyway. Cringe.”

Ning laughs and slides the bottle back on the counter, “Please. His entire personality was a StockX receipt.” She flicks her hair back, black and poker-straight, like she’s auditioning for a shampoo ad. Giselle titters, satisfied, like this was the reaction she’d been farming for.

And you’re back to scrubbing your sleeve with a wad of paper towels (Spoiler: it’s a lost cause). The fabric reeks of freezer-burnt vodka. You ditch the towels. 

The room’s down to its last few people - most having either left or passed out. Winter’s girlfriend’s on the couch, blowing o’s at the ceiling like it’s her part-time job. Someone’s little brother’s spread-eagle snoring beside her. Outside, a couple is eating each other’s faces on the patio, laughter smothered; some girl’s sobbing in the hallway and you think you heard the rest of the girls somewhere outside as well. 

You’re about to give up and peel off the hoodie when arms slide around your waist. Warmth presses against your back. Vanilla.

“Miss me?” Giselle’s breath ghosts your neck. Her nails dig playfully into your hipbones.

You don’t turn. “You’re mean,” you mutter, but it’s half-hearted.

She laughs, low, and rests her chin on your shoulder. “Ning started it.” Lie. You glance over, Ningning’s already wandered off, texting furiously on her phone. 

You suppress an eye roll. Giselle can truly a bitch at times. But whatever, you’re into it.

Giselle spins you around, teeth sinking into her bottom lip the way you’ve told her a hundred times drives you insane... “We’re hitting the jacuzzi,” she whispers, thumb swiping the wet cuff of your sleeve. “You in?”

Somewhere outside, a sprinkler hisses and a shriek-laugh erupts.

Your gaze drags from her lips to her eyes. Bad idea, that’s usually when you fold. When you look at those glinting lips, cherry-slick. You swallow and drag your eyes upward to her brown, glittering, half-lidded gaze. Amused. Like she’s already tallying her score in a game you didn’t know you were losing, nor playing.

That’s when you notice: she’s swapped her hoodie for a black bikini. That black bikini. The one with the whisper-thin strings you’ve traced with your teeth. The one she’d worn for your birthday, when she’d “accidentally” spilled her drink down your shirt (her signature move, all batting lashes and stifled laughter, like either of you believed it wasn’t planned).

Like she wasn’t already steering you toward the pool shed, her fingers hooked beneath the hem of your shirt, smirk in place.

You’d let her corner you there, of course. Let her press you against the chlorine-sticky shelves, her mouth silencing your half-hearted protest about someone seeing, someone hearing. You always fold. Even now, your dick almost hardens at the memory at how reckless it was, how reckless she is, and how little either of you cared.

The bikini clings to her like it was handcrafted for her body, the triangles tight on her like they’re paid to, barely hiding her hard nips. But it’s the bottom half that really does you, like the way the fabric narrows at her hips, thinning to almost nothing at the back. It’s all engineered to wreck you, and she knows it.

You know exactly how it fits (or barely fits) disappearing between the soft curve of her ass like it belongs there. She likes that part, too. The way that tiny strip vanishes between her cheeks, and how’d you pull the thong back taut between her ass cheeks, causing the little triangle in the front to ride up against her pretty cunt -

The friction had made her wetter than you’ve ever seen her.

It’s your unspoken game - hers, really. You’d spent twenty minutes tracing every cursed string with your tongue while she hissed “hurry the fuck up” through gritted teeth and giggles, her nails leaving indents in your shoulders. You’d been feral that day. All teeth and trembling fingers, her thighs vise-gripping your head as you teased her clit through the cloth, that no-one’s-gonna-hear-us smirk of hers dissolving into sighs. 

“You’re obsessed,” she’d moaned, voice cracking as you dragged it out (not minutes, not an hour, but until your knees burned and the pool party’s chatter faded into static.) You ditched, fucked three times in your shitty Corolla’s backseat, and she’d tossed you that hoodie after, smug. Premeditated, every second.

And now? Here she is, reusing the same thirst trap. 

You see the trap. 

You walk into it anyway.

Your flaccid dick gives a twitch, pulse hammering where her nails dig into your hip. Fuck.

You want her to keep touching you like that. You want to kneel. You want to –

“Jacuzzi,” she repeats, tilting her head, ruddy hair catching the light. Her smirk widens. She knows you’re getting hard. She can feel it, pressed against you. Knows you’re replaying how she’d moan obscenities in your ear, how her legs shook when you’d pulled her back against you, fingers still working her clit before you came inside her. “Again,” she’d demanded, and you’d obey, because you’d burn cities to hear her like that.

You blink. “Yeah, sure.” 

Fuck. What’d you just agree to? No, no, no, you didn’t mean to–

But it’s too late, judging by Giselle’s quirked lips. Her hand slips beneath your hoodie, manicured nails scraping your skin. “Good,” she murmurs, slowly skimming her fingers down your navel, moving with every rise and fall of your breath.

“Who’s gunna be with us?” 

Giselle slides her hands back around your hips. Your pants are baggy, low-rise, and she has no trouble dipping inside the back of them to grab your ass, looking right into your eyes as she does it. “The girls,” she replies light-heartedly, as if she isn’t kneading your flesh like she’s testing fruit at the market.

You swallow.

Okay, two outcomes here:

You go, and it’s 40 minutes of them dissecting their celeb drama you couldn’t remember even if the WiFi depended on it.

Or, you go, and they roast you both raw because Giselle’s a PDA menace and you’re, well, you. The kind of disaster sapphic who’s lowkey obsessed with her girl’s attention but would literally die if anyone clocked it.

“Don’t look so scared,” she laughs, “Give me a hug.”

“I’m not,” you huff, but still loop an arm around her waist, tugging her body against you. Casual. Real casual. The hug is all PG-13 angles (your hand splayed safe above her bikini ties, her cheek smushed to your shoulder).

But Giselle doesn’t really do casual. Her hips tilt, pressing your thigh between hers, and her sigh is pure theater, hot and throaty against your ear. “Fuck, babygirl,” she murmurs, “Semi-hard already?”

Her fingers skate up your spine, and you stiffen, pulse rabbiting in your throat. Winter’s girl on the couch coughs out a smoke ring that wobbles toward the ceiling. Don’t look down. Don’t—

Too late. Giselle’s leg shifts, and now the seam of your pants grinds against her inner thigh. She hums, low and approving. “Knew you’d cave.” Her lips brush your jaw. “Always do.”

The accusation stings because it’s true. You’ve let her corner you anywhere, bar bathrooms, the back row of a Scream marathon – anywhere her hands could slip under your clothes, her teeth could find your neck. It’s a problem. A glaring problem, according to your best friend/roommate, who once walked in on Giselle riding you in the living room at 3 a.m. (She still sends you Band-Aid coupons as “trauma tax.”)

Giselle’s hands start moving to the front of your pants when Winter’s girlfriend drawls from the couch, smoke curling lazily from her lips. “Get a room,” she says, not looking away from her vape clouds. “Or Venmo me fifty bucks. I’ll watch.”

You freeze, but Giselle just snorts, pressing closer. Her thigh shifts against you, pressing against your dick, and you nearly choke on your own breath. “Don’t be jealous, bookie,” she shoots back, sing-song. “Your girl’s out back trying to French the neighbor’s dog.”

Winter’s girlfriend flips her off before dismissing the both of you. Thank God the couch faces away from you.

Giselle’s hand slips back up, fingertips grazing and toying with you, tracing the outline of your dick and twirling over the engorged head until a wet spot forms. You want to rut into the touch, then hide your face in mortification because fuck, what if Ning walks in? Worse, what if Karina walks in?

What if they see you cornered, weak and pathetic, Giselle palming you through your boxers. And oh fuck, does it feel just perfect there. Just like with her lips, her hand is everything. She slips beneath your waistband before you can process what’s happening, grabbing at your cock.

“Can’t wait to fuck you,” Giselle purrs, thumb pressing just shy of cruel against the tip. You choke back a noise, shoulders tensing as your eyes dart to the living room. Winter’s girlfriend is still entirely distracted, oblivious. The snoring kid twitches.

“Gis—”

“Shhh.” Her lips brush the shell of your ear, sticky with gloss. “Focus,” she murmurs, “Fuck my hand.” 

Giselle’s fist closes around your dick, and your back arches, stuttering. You’re slick to the base, twitching, hips jolting forward in helpless, hungry thrusts—fucking into her fist like it’s the only thing worth living for. Her grip’s not just tight, it’s filthy—knuckles wet, fingers gliding through the mess you’re leaking, stroking you with the kind of shameless hunger that makes your stomach flip.

She’s working you like she owns it, like she’s jerking off her favorite toy, and every squelch of her palm around your cock feels obscene—wet, sticky. You’re rutting into it, dick throbbing with each drag of her hand, and she just grins like she loves how messy you’re getting for her, loves the quiet slick of skin-on-skin.

Your brain short-circuits. “Fuck—” you hiss. 

Moans break in your throat, breathy and guttural, heat crawling up your spine like it’s trying to burn through your skin. Everything’s hypersensitive; the wet suck of your skin, the muted bass thudding through the walls, the sharp, shallow breaths she lets out against your ear. Her mouth curls, smug, like she knows what she’s doing to you.

“Gi, Fuck,” is the only thing you’re capable of muttering, thrusting harder into her hand with zero hesitation, chasing the wet drag of her fist like it’s the only thing left in your world. Her thumb presses down over the tip, catching the pre-cum and smearing it like she’s painting with it. You jerk at the touch, leaking hotter, messier, your whole cock glossy with it now—slippery and needy, twitching against her knuckles.

She pumps you harder, slick squelching between every stroke, cock drooling into her hand, “Just like that.” she whispers, pressing her forehead to yours. “So fucking big in my hand. Can feel you throbbing, baby, fuck.”

Your knees nearly buckle, lower belly tingling. That is until Karina’s laugh slices in from the patio—sharp, loud, close—and your stomach drops.

“Giselle—” you grit out, hand clamping over hers. She stills, brow arched. “Karina’s right there.”

“So?” Her free hand skates up your breast, thumb catching your nipple through your hoodie. You bite your tongue. “She’s busy filming Ning’s TikTok. Look.” She nods toward the sliding door, where Karina’s silhouette leans against the glass, phone flashlight aimed at Ning’s. “Distracted.”

Distracted now. But Karina’s got predator instincts—catches every side-eye, every whisper. Last month, she called you out for “eye-fucking Giselle’s ass�� when you had come to watch their dance practice. You still haven’t recovered.

Giselle’s grip tightens, her nails grazing your dick. “C’mon,” she murmurs, lips brushing yours. “You want me to stop?”

Yes. No. You’re sweating through your hoodie. Her thumb circles your slit, and your knees nearly buckle. “Fuck me,” you whisper.

“That, I’d love to do.” She nips back at your jaw, her other hand sliding down to guiding your palm to grope her ass. “Grab. Harder.”

You do, hands smoothing to her hips, a bit rougher now, then sliding down to palm her ass—so soft, encasing that teasing little thong. Your fingers slip beneath the cloth, groping the bare muscle, digging in like you want to mold it to the shape of you. You squeeze, knead, pull her cheeks apart just to feel the way she twitches for it. She lets out a moan, kinda loud, shameless, calculated, just to make your nerves spike, watch you panic. 

“Quit -” you plead, but she’s already rolling her hips, grinding against your thigh, her hand working you in lazier strokes. The kitchen feels like a fishbowl, every smothered laugh from the patio, every creak of floorboards, ten time louder. You’re hyper-aware of the half-open pantry door, the flicker of the LEDs above the sink, the smack of Giselle’s glossed lips as she kisses your throat.

“Relax,” she breathes, all false innocence. “We’re just hugging.”

“You’re—fuck—you’re gonna get us caught—”

“Mmm, and?” Her tongue flicks your earlobe. “Think Karina’d make a PowerPoint? ‘Slideshow of Your Lesbian Meltdown’?”

You choke back a laugh, nerves fraying. “Stop—”

“Or what?” Her strokes quicken, thumb pressing that sweet spot beneath your head. “You’ll cum? Right here? In my hand while Ning’s debating the best angle for her fucking reel?”

Your fingers dig further into her ass, torn between shoving her off and yanking her closer. The room tilts. Distantly, you hear Ning crow, “A hundred bucks says the neighbor calls the cops again!” and Karina’s sharp retort: “You’re paying when he does.”

Giselle’s watching your face, pupils blown, her own breath hitching. She loves this. The risk, the filth of it all, the way your teeth cut into your lip to stay quiet. You’re close, so fucking close, and she knows it. Leans in, her voice a hot, fucked whisper: “Cum. I wanna watch you cum for me.”

You’re gonna kill her. You’re gonna kiss her. The patio door screeches.

“Aeri! Manager’s blowing up–” Karina’s voice.

You freeze. Giselle doesn’t. Her hand pumps once, twice - cruel - and you spill over her fingers with a silent gasp, vision whiting out. Giselle feels it filling her palm, clinging, trailing between her fingers, so much, obscenely. Her sweet girlfriend, she loves your cock so much. Wants it for herself all the time.

She then yanks her hand free, wiping it on your hoodie under the guise of adjusting it just as Karina strides in. “The fuck are you two—?”

“Hugging,” Giselle chirps, all sugar, slumping against you with dramatic sighs and puppy-dog eyes, her cheek squished to your shoulder. “Y/N’s goldfish, Steve, just died.” Your knees are jelly. Your soul is exiting your body. 

Karina’s gaze narrows, flicking between your pathetic face and Giselle’s too-innocent smile.

“Bullshit and gross,” she says finally, tossing Giselle’s phone on the counter. “Save the improv for the Harper’s Bazaar shoot. Soo-man wants you rehearsing the poses. And to confirm the Vogue interview.” 

“Ugh, fine. Tell him I’ll wear the stupid feather dress.” Giselle flips her hair, her foot nudging yours under the counter, silently telling you to stay put. “But only if they let me pick the music.”

“Tell him yourself. I’m not your secretary.” Karina turns to leave, then pauses, before deciding on simply leaving, muttering about “fucking nymphos.” 

You slump against the counter, half-dead. Giselle’s smirk blooms as she spins back to you, thumb swiping the sweat from your temple. “Steve would’ve loved you,” she purrs, biting her lip to stifle a laugh.

“You’re deranged,” you whisper, knees still liquid, fumbling to adjust your jeans.

She kisses you before you can finish, all teeth and cherry gloss, her hand slipping into your back pocket. “Deranged enough to get you coffee after this shoot tomorrow?”

You stare at her.

“That’s a yes,” she decides, already texting the manager, her free hand toying with the damp edge of your hoodie. “Wear the gray sweatpants.”

Jesus. 

Giselle disentangles herself, but not before pinching your ass and dragging her nails across your waistband like a warning. She snatches the vodka off the counter with a victorious flick of her wrist.

“Jacuzzi. Ten minutes. Clean up and don’t make me come back and drag your ass there myself,” she tosses over her shoulder, hair swaying with every smug step.

Then she’s gone, hips swinging, like she didn’t just ruin your life in the kitchen and call it foreplay.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

The jacuzzi steam clings to your skin. You’re perched on the edge, legs submerged, toes brushing someone’s shin under the froth – probably Ning’s. Giselle’s palm skims your calf absently, her thumb pressing circles into the dip behind your knee while she argues with Karina about lyrics. Her touch is proprietary, grounding, even as your head swims with the vodka, blur of your fourth shot.

The girls are all half-submerged, flushed and vibing. Momo’s hair fans out in the water like ink. Winter’s girlfriend blows vape clouds - who’s surprised?- that curl into the night. Ning’s arms balance on your knee as she leans in, voice conspiratorial: “…and then he texted ‘wyd’ at, like, 3 a.m. Again. As if I’m his fucking booty call—”

You snort. “Block him.”

“But his dog—”

“The dog’s an accomplice. Block them, both.”

Ning cackles, sloshing water as she throws her head back. 

The game you’ve been playing (Classic truth or dare) has been chaos: dares to swap bikini tops (Momo’s still in Winter’s neon green one), truths about body counts (Karina’s “I don’t kiss and tell” was bullshit, and everyone knew it). But now the heat and shots have dulled the stakes. Conversations fray. Winter’s girlfriend scrolls her phone, the blue glow sharp on her smirk.

Until—

“Okay, fuck this.” She flicks her vape. “Let’s revive the game. Y/N.” Her glasses catch the light as she turns. “Truth or dare. Final round.”

The water stills. Giselle’s hand pauses.

You grin, loose and lazy. “Dare. Obviously.”

Winter’s girlfriend leans forward, droplets sliding down her collarbone. “Kiss. Two people. In this circle. Right now.”

A beat. 

The jets hum. 

You count the silence. One. Two. Three.

Giselle’s fingers tense.

Everyone’s looking at you.

“Daaaaaamn,” Momo drawls, fanning herself.

Then chaos unfolds around you:

“Bold—”

“Woop, woop, bitch!”

Your tongue feels thick. “I … what?”

Giselle’s nails dig into your calf. Winter’s girlfriend swirls her drink. “Kiss someone here who’s not Giselle. Or… admit you’re whipped.”

The word hangs. Whipped. Like it’s a crime. Like wanting your girlfriend, only her, is pathetic. Fuck her.

Giselle’s laugh cuts through the chaos. “Cute.” She shifts, water sloshing, and tugs you in the water. The heat sears up your ribs, and you pivot toward her. Her eyes narrow, a challenge. Try it. “Go ahead, baby. Kiss Ning. She’s been eyeing you all night.”

Ning chokes on her drink. “The fuck I have—”

“Do it,” Giselle whispers, lips grazing your pulse point.

Karina watches, bored but alert. Winter’s staring at the stars, cheeks flushed, bless her heart. Momo’s filming.

And Ning’s right there, cheeks equally flushed, lips parted in a oh-shit grin. It’s easy. Safe.

You turn to her, “Fuck it,” you mutter. “Can I?”

At her nod, you lean in for a clumsy, wet smudge of a kiss. She tastes like coconut lip balm, her laugh soft and surprised against your mouth. You giggle too, pulling back as her hand flutters to your wrist.

Winter’s girlfriend clap like it’s her personal soap opera.

You turn to Giselle, heart hammering. “Happy?”

Her smile’s all too sweet…“Ecstatic.” And then she doesn’t miss a beat. She twists in the water, straddling your lap in one fluid motion. The sudden weight of her ass flush against your thighs, the heat hotter where she grinds down.

Your brain flatlines twice again tonight.

Her hands find your face, palms warm, thumbs brushing your bottom lip before her mouth is plush onto yours, tongue swiping the ghost of Ning’s chapstick off your lips, prying past your teeth. “Mine,” she whispers, low enough that only you hear it. 

Cheers erupt around you (Momo whooping, someone gasping “Oh my God”—) but Giselle doesn’t let up. She licks into you again, wetter, hungrier, hand sliding up to grab your jaw, holding you in place like she’s fucking starving. The water churns. You forget how to breathe.

Winter throws a towel at your heads. “Get a room, you two!”

When she pulls back, her thumb smears your lower lip again, wiping the gloss smeared across your chin “Two,” she announces, loud enough to cut through the catcalls. Her voice drips honeyed venom. “Done.”

Someone whistles. Even Karina cracks a smirk.

Winter’s girlfriend salutes with her vape. “Solid B-plus. Minus points for predictability.”

Giselle waves her away, but her grip stays tight on your thigh under the water. Ning’s still laughing.

Someone from the sideline mutters, “Jesus, get a room.”

“We have a room,” Giselle retorts, then leaning into your ear. “That we’ll use later, right?”

You choke on your spit and grab a shot. Fuck, yeah. 

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

The bathroom mirror is cold against your palms. Giselle’s perched on the counter, legs hooked around your hips. You’d meant to shower, to rinse off the chlorine and sweat, but she’d cornered you the second the door clicked shut, fingers twisting in your waistband before you could even peel off your bra.

“Lift me,” she’d said, not asked, chin jerking toward the marble. Now her nails dig into your shoulders as you grind against her, her sandals dangle from her toes, tapping a restless rhythm against the cabinets beneath.

“You’re still wearing those stupid boxers,” she murmurs, teeth grazing your earlobe. 

“You’re still avoiding the shower,” you counter, breath hitching as she rolls her hips.

She laughs, low and throaty. The mirror’s fogged behind her, streaked where her head tipped back. “You want to get clean before getting dirty again?” Her hand slips between you, thumb brushing the soaked cotton of your underwear. “You sure ‘bout that?”

The faucet drips. Voices buzz in the hallway, muffled through the door. Giselle doesn’t care. She never cares about shit like this.

You press your hips in slow, dragging thrusts, your cock thick and swollen, forcing the fat bulge right against the soaked crotch of her thong. The fabric barely holds you back, stretched tight as it wedges between her slick folds. Every push spreads her pussy open around the pressure of your cock, grinding hard into her clit through the thin barrier, and she whimpers, all wet and needy, hips twitching to meet yours like she needs that friction just as bad.

Every drag pulls wetter, breathier moans from her—half-muffled between your mouths, like she can’t decide whether to kiss you or just moan straight into your tongue. Your own are going shaky, turning into soft, broken moans that get swallowed. It’s messy, all tongue, but neither of you cares—it’s more about staying connected, about not pulling away from each other’s bodies.

“You’re gonna fuck me like a good girl, hmm?” she whispers into your mouth, voice thick, teasing, ruined. Her cheek then brushes yours, lips planting fluttering kisses along your jaw. “I’m so wet,” she adds, like she’s confessing it, like she loves how fucked and a little desperate she sounds. Her mouth trails soft kisses across your face that makes your stomach knot tight.

You let out a breathless giggle, half-dizzy, and fumble a hand between your bodies, yanking at your boxers with shaking fingers. The waistband slips down past your hips and your cock springs free, slapping hot and wet against your stomach with a slick smack. The sudden kiss of cool air makes you twitch, painfully sensitive.

You’re leaking, thick and steady, a string of pre-cum smearing across the skin of her thigh. You’re flushed, fevered, dragging in a ragged breath as you lean forward and shove her panties aside with one rough tug.

And then you’re right there, your cock slotting between Giselle’s drenched pink folds like it belongs there, the heat of her pussy wrapping around you even without pushing in. She gasps, thighs tensing when your fingers hook behind her knees and push them up, spreading her open as your cock grinds along the soaked seam of her cunt, every pass catching on her swollen clit, slick and shameless.

She wasn’t exaggerating, she’s really fucking drenched.

“You’re, fuck, you’re so wet -”

“Obviously.” Giselle rolls her hips, forcing your dick to slide higher, catching her swollen clit. Her breath hitches. “Been dripping since the kitchen. Since you came in my hand like a fucking—”

You don’t give her the space to finish, and grind over her clit again and again, your cock sliding messily through the slick heat of her folds—soaked, swollen, and parting perfectly around you. Each thrust is frantic, soaked to the point of obscenity, the sound of it loud and wet and constant, like your bodies can’t help but make a mess of each other. Every push of your hips catches her clit just right, dragging the thick underside of your cock over it until Giselle’s moaning into your mouth, open and raw, her legs twitching like she can’t hold still.

She’s spread wide for you, thong stretched to the side, pussy lips puffed and glistening, flushed dark with arousal. You lean down heavier, slurring incoherent shit, hips stuttering, can’t even manage a proper thrust without needing to shove in, grind forward, like your cock refuses to part from her for more than a second.

You drop your grip from her knees and plant your hands on the edge of the sink, bracing hard. Her legs fold up high and lock around your shoulders, heels digging into your back, forcing you deeper into the grind. The porcelain creaks behind her, something scraping loudly against the wall, but all you can focus on is the feel of her cunt, so, so hot and sticky, your cock slipping and catching against her clit with every frantic push.

“Gonna cum just like this?” Giselle taunts, breath hot. “Rubbing on me like a teen? Pathetic—”

“Fuck—stop—”

“Make me.”

You’re so slick now it feels like you’re drenched in her, your cock dripping from the sheer mess you’ve both made. Giselle grabs you harder, nails scraping down your arms, her legs quivering where they’re hooked around you. Despite the teasing, she’s shaking, breath stuttering, and you can feel the way her clit’s gone puffy and sore from the constant attention—but you don’t stop. This is your revenge.

Then her mouth is on yours again.

Not aggressive. Not teasing. Just… Sure. Certain. Hers.

You answer without thought, lips parting on a whine. Your tongues slide together, wet and needy, curling and tasting and pulling, your breath catching in your throat as your heart hammers like it’s trying to punch through your ribs. You kiss her back like you're starving for it, sloppy and unashamed, the sound of it bouncing raw and echoing off tiles.

And then, no warning, no easing. Your hips shove forward and your cock sinks into Giselle, hot and thick and stretching her open in one slick, devastating push.

She moans- a sound torn straight from her chest, half-shock, half-relief, cracking wide open into something wrecked and perfect as your hips start pounding into her, relentless from the start. Her walls grip you, tight and soaked, the glide almost too easy from how wet she already is.

Her nails dig into your arms, hard and sudden. “Wait—wait,” she gasps, voice shredded but firm. You freeze, cock buried deep, twitching inside her as your pulse slams through your ears. Panic spikes. Did you hurt her? but then she looks up with that up-to-no-good smile and bites her lip, “Turn me around,” nodding toward the mirror. “I wanna watch.”

Your brain stalls. What?

She presses gently at your chest, not pleading, commanding. “Behind. I want to see you fuck me.”

The demand clicks. The memory slams into you, her sprawled across your bed weeks ago, scrolling your camera roll, pausing on a blurry mirror selfie she took of the two of you. “Hmm,” she’d bit her lip, tossing your phone aside. “You ever fuck someone in front of a mirror?” she’d asked, casual as if discussing the weather. “Like… watching yourself fuck? Kinda vain, but,” She’d shrugged and smiled, running a hand through her red strands, toe tracing your calf. “Can we try one day?”

You’d choked on your apple juice. She’d just laughed.

You blink back to the present. Giselle’s already wriggling off the counter, flushed and impatient, and you move fast, hands at her waist, easing her down, sliding out. Your cock leaves her soaked, a thick string of cum and slick still connecting you together. 

“C’mon,” she breathes, turning smoothly, planting her palms flat on the counter. The mirror frames everything: her lips bitten red, her cheeks blotched with heat, lip gloss smeared across her mouth, “Fuck me.”

You swallow, hands trembling as you grip her hips. Her thong’s a soaked scrap, shoved aside. The bikini top’s strings dangle loose down her back. “Arch back, please,” you instruct, dragging a finger up the hem of her bikini top. Her nipple pebbles under your thumb as you graze it. So responsive it makes your cock twitch.

She does as asked, palms sliding up the mirror as she arches her back hard, ass tilting up for you. The bikini top’s strings dig into her skin, triangles straining. You hook two fingers under the damp fabric, yanking it up until her tits spill free, nipples hard and flushed. “Y/N—” she moans, but it’s swallowed when you pinch one roughly, rolling the bud between your fingers as you line yourself up.

The strings of her bikini top dig into her back, the triangles straining uselessly over her chest. You hook two fingers under the fabric and yank. Her tits spill out, heavy and flushed, nipples stiff and aching for your mouth. “Y/N-” she gasps, but it’s swallowed by a moan when you twist one nipple, rolling the bud between your fingers just as your cock presses back to her cunt.

“Look,” you coax, nodding toward the mirror. “Look at what I do to you.”

And then you drive into her in one brutal thrust.

The mirror rattles. Giselle’s mouth falls open in a silent scream before a strangled moan tears free. Your hands claw at her hips, dragging her back onto you as you pound into her, relentless. Her tits sway with every slap of skin against skin, your cock pistoning deep into her soaked heat as the counter groans beneath her.

“God,” she chokes out, half-laugh, half-desperate cry. “Yes—yes.”

You look up. Your reflection is wrecked: jaw tight, eyes blown wide, hips jerking like you’re possessed. Her mouth is slack, breath fogging the mirror, but her glazed eyes doesn’t leave her own reflection. You look down to watch the way your cock disappears inside her, glistening with slick, the obscene stretch of it, the way her body gives around you.

“Harder,” she breathes, not to you, but to her own reflection, eyes wild. “Harder, fuck!”

You slam into her deeper, harder, and she jolts forward, palms sliding on the mirror as your cock splits her apart, slides deep into the clutch of her muscle, dragging every sound out of her like you’re wringing her dry. Her legs are spread, shaking, skin flushed everywhere you touch her, chest pressed to the mirror, ass pushed high.

You moan, guttural and close to cumming. She moans back, eyes locked on the mirror like she’s watching a dream come true. 

Giselle’s barely got her toes on the ground anymore. Every thrust from you has her lifting off her feet, teetering, dangling, your cock punching up into her so deep she has no hope of holding herself steady. Her body gives, legs quivering, cunt greedy and wide open, swallowing you like it’s desperate to keep you, like it knows you’re about to flood her and doesn’t want to miss a drop.

She’s dripping. You hear it, feel it, the way your cock slicks through her over and over again, every vein dragging along her cunt walls, every pull-out thick with strings of precum. Her thighs are a mess. So are yours. Every time your hips meet hers, it sounds like something’s breaking.

“Fuck, so tight,” you groan, breathless, a broken record. And you repeat it, over and over, a mantra made for her cunt alone.

The bathroom echoes with it: the slap of skin-on-skin, your groans, her cries, the wet, sticky drag every time you pull out just enough to slam back in. It’s loud. And Winter’s room is right next door.

You don’t stop.

Wouldn’t even if Winter banged on the wall and begged.

“More,” Giselle pants, and it doesn’t even sound like a request. It’s a command.

“More of my dick, Gi? You want it to split you open?” Your voice is ragged, trembling with the way her cunt drags on you. “Hmm? Gaping for me, taking every inch.”

“Fuck, yes.” 

You grab her by the hair and shove her face against the mirror, fog blooming across the glass from her ragged breath. Her cheeks flush darker. Her lips are parted. And her toes? No longer touching the floor. Every time you ram into her, her feet lift higher, curling—like she’s being hoisted by the sheer power of your cock alone, like her body’s forgotten gravity in favor of getting fucked open.

“I'm gonna cum,” Giselle gasps, voice wrecked and raw. “Gonna cum. Gonna fucking cum so hard on your dick, fuck, harder! Cum in me!”

Your brain shorts out.

“In you?” you rasp, your whole body thrumming. You shove in harder, deeper, until her body’s flush against the counter, hips slamming into porcelain. “You want me to breed you, huh? Fuck a baby into this tight little cunt?” Your voice breaks, low and filthy. “Fill you up, ruin you for anyone else. Knock you up right here against the mirror so you watch yourself take every fucking drop—"

Her cunt clenches so hard around your cock it nearly sends you to your knees.

You grip her hair harder, drag her face up to see what she looks like fucked out. Her reflection streaked with fog, eyes glazed, drool clinging to her lip. Her body shakes. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum in you, Gi,” you hiss through your teeth, like it’s being ripped from your core. You grind into her with sluggish, longer thrusts, the tip of your cock pressing into the spot that has her seeing stars. “You’re gonna take it? Promise you’re gonna take every last drop, and you’re gonna cum when I do, yeah? Cum when I fill you up-"

“Oh-yes!” she squeals, voice shattering on a moan when you hit that spot just right. Her back arches, cunt choking your cock, and you feel everything, down to her body twitching as she teeters on the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” You can’t even get the words out before they melt in your throat. That thought, her dripping full of you, leaking down her thighs, maybe taking, maybe really taking is what breaks you. 

Her pussy clamps around you and she cums, shuddering and wailing, legs quaking on either side of your body as her orgasm floods over you. You go right with her, muttering something, cock slamming in deep, your hips locking as your body jerks uncontrollably. You spill into her with everything you’ve got, moan ragged and cracked, hot, thick, endless. You gasp, twitching through the aftershocks as her cunt milks you for every fucking drop.

She wants it. The idea of breeding her, of your cum spilling back out of her used hole and soaking the floor, it shatters you.

You collapse forward, breath heaving, forehead against her spine. Still buried deep. Still twitching inside her.

“Oh,” you whisper. “I could die right here.”

Giselle hums, delirious, and giggles into the fogged-up mirror: “Wow.”

You stay draped over her, skin slick, bodies still fused. Her thighs twitch, cunt still clenching weakly around your softening cock. You don’t move. Can’t.

She’s trembling underneath you, breath ragged, until finally, finally, she draws in a fuller breath and turns her head just enough to kiss you. It’s slow, a little shaky, and when her lips part against yours, you hum, maybe even whine, a soft, broken sound, one last lazy grind of your cock inside her making both your bodies jolt. You’re overstimmed and exhausted, but you kiss her back. She sucks at your tongue, licking deep and slow, until you go fully soft and slip out, your cum following in a slow, lazy trickle down her thighs.

You both hiss at the loss.

Your lips trail kisses along her shoulder, warm and gentle now. “Fuck,” you whisper against her skin. “I loved that. You. That.”

It’s true. Every dizzy, filthy second of it.

She smiles at that. Except it’s...off. Just a little strained at the edges. But you’re still buzzing, floating, caught in the haze, so you don’t think much of it.

You shower together. Wash off the mess. Her body presses against yours under the water like she doesn’t want distance, like she’s still hungry for you even now, but when you soap up her back, she doesn’t quite lean into it the way she usually does. Still, you rinse, dry off, curl into bed like everything’s fine.

And it kind of is. Mostly.

She pulls you against her chest, and you go willingly, cheek pressed to her breast, her skin warm and soft. One hand runs slow nails across the nape of your neck. It’s comforting. You could fall asleep just like this. You probably will.

Until she says—

“Did you mean it?”

You hum. Eyes still closed. “Mean what?”

Her hand pauses. “When you said you loved me.”

Your brain stutters. You blink your eyes open, more awake now. Her chest doesn’t rise the same way. She’s stopped breathing quite so evenly.

“I...wait, when?”

“During sex.” Her voice is quiet. But not small. It’s pointed. “When you were—inside me. You said, ‘fuck, I love you.’”

Oh.

She must feel your body shift, the way you go still, because she scoffs, a little bitter. “You don’t even remember.”

“No,” you say quickly, “no, I just …” You sit up halfway, heart pounding suddenly, “I didn’t realize I said it out loud.”

“So you do remember.”

“I …” You frown, searching through the haze. Everything had gone so fast. All sensation and no pause. But that moment—her cunt clenching around you, cumming, the overwhelming everything of her—it’s there. The feeling. The words. They were real.

“I don’t remember saying it,” you admit, voice soft. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

She turns her face toward yours, “You mean that?”

You don’t hesitate now. “Yes. Gi. I fucking mean it.”

She doesn’t answer right away. But the silence this time feels fuller, thicker, like something swelling between you instead of falling apart.

Then her lips press to yours again. Softer. She kisses you like she believes you. And maybe for the first time, she really does because she confesses those three little words back and adds: “And so did Steve, rest in peace little guy.”

Before you’re groaning, smothering her face with a pillow and she’s cackling at you.

frannie's note: it's been a while since i wrote fics with cute endings, lol! hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing this ... (p.s. the two angels who've won the challenge and guessed the prompt right will be summoned and revealed soon :p <3)

click for m.list

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Epilogue: New color stage! - In Brand-New Colors, As Many Times As It Takes

Reni: Are we all agreed on the finals being structured as such? Should any of you be in opposition—

Director A: It sounds reasonable.

Director B: I do not believe there are any complaints.

Yukio: Then, the New Fleur Award’s finals will be held as a tournament between the top 10 nominated theater companies.

-

Izumi: Once again, cheers to MANKAI Company being nominated for the New Fleur Award finals!

Taichi: Cheeeers!

Sakuya: Cheers!

Muku: Congratulations!

Itaru: Grats. And GW.

Misumi: Congraaats!

Tsuzuru: Feels like we can finally take a breather after the New Fleur Award’s announcement.

Tsumugi: I was really surprised to see the format that they’re using.

Tenma: We sure got thrown into one hell of a battle.

Sakuya: But it became a good opportunity for each of us to grow even further.

Banri: And we met some new people.

Omi: Right. We got to learn a lot, too.

Sakyo: We’ve only gotten nominated, so we can’t relax too much.

Chikage: I think we can get away with it for today at least, though.

Kazunari: Right-o. We wouldn’t have made it to the starting line if we hadn’t gotten nominated to begin with~

Kumon: When you put it like that, it makes me even more relieved!

Taichi: I know, right! My stomach was in knots every time we were waitin’ for the results to be announced!

Misumi: I hung up triangles praying we’d get nominated~

Tenma: What are they? Teru teru bozu?

Citron: It’s thanks to everyone’s hard whop!

Masumi: Hard work.

Chikage: Your PR played a big role too this time, Masumi.

Masumi: Obviously.

Juza: We gotta work even harder for the finals.

Tasuku: You’re right. The other troupes will be coming at us with everything they’ve got.

Yuki: How are you straight-laced theater nerds getting more and more motivated?

Omi: The black pepper chicken’s ready.

Izumi: Looks delicious!

Azuma: Smells good, too.

Homare: I, too, am delighted that KICS’s debut performance was carried out without a hitch.

Guy: The script and direction were different from our usual, and KICS’s style truly shined as a result.

Tsuzuru: Thanks.

Banri: Well, it turned out to be a pretty good experience for me too.

Hisoka: … Aren’t they gonna have a party for it?

Tsuzuru: I think Yukio-san’s gonna treat them to celebrate.

Sakyo: He’s gonna have his hands full with those growing kids.

-

Homare: *sob* … The Spring Troupe, Summer Troupe, Autumn Troupe, and of course us Winter Troupe all did our very best. We have accomplished more than ever before…!

Azuma: There, there. We really have.

Kazunari: If I could be serious for a moment. I believe the finals will also have a different format.

Kazunari: Masumi-kun, wouldn’t you say you would need to reconsider your PR strategy depending on what the format will be?

Masumi: … You’re making so much sense that I can’t make sense of it.

Misumi: Y’know… *hic* Everyone’s like, triangularly triangular triangles~

Muku: You think so…?

Sakuya: Ahahahaha! That’s so funny, my stomach hurts!

Banri: Pff… Ahaha! Your laughing’s contagious, quit that!

Sakuya: Even if you tell me to– Ahahaha, I can’t just…!

Omi: Everyone’s getting nicely drunk.

Azuma: They sure are. They’re probably letting loose after working so hard.

Azami: A little too loose, if you ask me.

Kumon: They’re all so funny, I gotta take a vid to remember this~!

Sakyo: Do NOT post it on social media.

Izumi: (I’m really glad we can all celebrate in such a carefree manner.)

Izumi: (I’m sure they’re extra emotional because there was more riding on these performances than just the nomination.)

Izumi: (Since they were all sequels to the debut performances, everyone remembered the first steps they took back then.)

Izumi: (They stepped into a new stage of their lives, looking back to when they had just started out and holding everything they’ve gained up until now close.)

Izumi: (I think it was extremely meaningful for each and every one of them.)

Izumi: (No one can tell what will happen in the finals, but I’m sure everyone will be fine…)

Izumi: (Because no matter what happens, they’ll bloom in brand-new colors!)

our curtain rises | masterpost

[bowbownow96]

Threads of Desire ♥️♠️🃏

(Hisoka x Reader)

(future smut)

(more plot than smut)

The rain painted silver streaks down your balcony window, each drop a tiny elegy, pooling into rivers that seemed to mourn alongside you. The moon hung low in the velvet night, its pale face veiled by drifting clouds, like it too couldn’t bear to watch. Three months had crawled by since your beloved Hisoka had vanished into the shadows of his mission. Three months of deafening silence and unanswered questions.

Your love for him was a tempest, wild and all consuming, but his? It was elusive, like smoke slipping through your fingers. He visited sometimes, short, un-loving visits, but they felt like ghosts of what once was. A hollow ache churned in your chest as your mind turned over a haunting thought, sharp and relentless, “Had he fallen? Or worse… had he simply chosen to leave me behind?” You thought to yourself as a faint but sharp tear trails down your soft skin.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as your gaze fell to the rain-soaked world below. The melancholy was suffocating, but even in its grip, you found beauty in the night, a darkness you had come to embrace, just as he once did. Summoning the last frayed thread of your resolve, you turned away from the window and trudged toward your bed. The night whispered secrets only the moon and shadows could understand, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that Hisoka, wherever he was, heard them too.

As you collapse onto the black silk sheets, exhaustion pulls you under like a relentless tide. The emptiness beside you gnaws at your soul. How could he sleep so soundly without you when your nights were a battlefield of yearning? Tears slip silently down your cheeks, leaving damp, glistening marks on your pillow as you tremble with the weight of your thoughts.

Sleep takes you reluctantly, but not peacefully. A sudden, sharp sensation brushes against your calf like ice slicing through the fog of your exhaustion. Your breath catches, and you bolt upright, a gasp on your lips,but the world goes dark before you can even make any means of it.

When you wake, disoriented and heavy limbed, you find yourself in a dimly lit room. Cards and scattered clothing litter the floor, some garments marked with dried blood. The air feels heavy, damp, and the hiss of a shower echoes through the stillness. Steam seeps from under the closed bathroom door like a creeping fog, and panic wells up in your chest. Heart racing, you scramble to your feet and start searching the room, frantic for answers or an escape.

Your breath hitches as a familiar sound; a low, dark chuckle cuts through the silence. It stops you cold. The voice that follows is unmistakable, smooth yet teasing, laced with bloodlust and power

“Y/n~”

The way he says your name sends a shiver down your spine. Your body freezes, your chest tightens, and tears spring to your eyes, blurring the already shadowed room. It feels like a dream, but too vivid, too sharp to be anything but real. The panic surges, flooding your veins with a cold, choking fear, and your legs give out beneath you. You crumple to the ground, gripping your chest as sobs break through the dam of your resolve.

Before you can fully succumb to despair, a pale hand emerges from the shadows, sliding into view. He kneels before you, impossibly close. Hisoka. His damp hair clings to his face, droplets of water trailing down his neck and disappearing into the loosely tied red towel hanging carelessly off his waist. His sharp, piercing eyes glint with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something darker.

“Hm,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face with unsettling tenderness. “I thought you were stronger than this…” His lips curl into a faint frown, though it lacks any true sorrow.

Your trembling hands reach out on instinct, finding their way to his shoulders. Without hesitation, you collapse against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. The scent of him, wild and faintly metallic envelops you.

“Hisoka,” you whimper, your voice breaking under the weight of your anguish.

A low, rumbling sound escapes his throat, somewhere between a purr and a moan. “My darling,” he breathes, the words dripping with equal parts menace and affection. His arms slide around you, pulling you closer, and for the first time in months, you feel both relief and terror in his embrace.

[headcansxfanfictions]

FANFICTION Its 1:30 am so i wrote this out of no where

PG-13: talk of sexual themes but no sexual acts

TW: character worries about SA

Plot: Asexual Illumi finds himself having a heat unexpectedly after taking suppressants for too long. The closest safe place is Hisoka’s penthouse. Illumi just makes it in time.

PART 1

Hisoka was alarmed when Illumi Zoldyck showed up at his penthouse in full heat.

“Hisoka Im sorry I needed somewhere safe.” Illumi pants holding on to the door frame and shaking from trying to not to collapse.

Hisoka isn’t alarmed easily but right know Illumi seems 10 times more vulnerable then he has ever seen the man.

Illumi stumbles forward and Hisoka catches him. Illumi’s scent is amazing and Hisoka has to mentally slap himself.

Hisoka half caries Illumi to his bedroom. “I almost didn’t make it here,” Illumi starts to cry.

The sobs send chills through Hisoka, Illumi never cries he hardly ever shows emotion. That being said he has never seen Illumi in heat before so maybe this is normal for him?

Illumi is laid down on the bed and Hisoka sits next to him waiting for Illumi to say more.

“I-I almost didn’t make it. I could have died or worse, raped and left pregnant. Hisoka I was so scared. I almost didn’t get away.“ Hisoka hears Illumi’s deep voice break for the first time.

“Illumi you did make it though, you just stay here. You’ll be safe.” Maybe its his alpha instincts but Hisoka has a sudden strong urge to protect Illumi at all cost while he is in heat.

Despite his reputation for being promiscuous and constantly horny, at the age of 26 Hisoka is actually able to control his alpha very well. Yes, Illumi’s heat is effecting him but he respects Illumi enough to push that aside as much as he can.

“Illumi, I’ll be back in a moment I just need to go get some things. Is there anything medicine you usually take?”

“I don’t know,” Illumi’s breathing is ragged, “haven’t had a heat in years… suppressants.”

“You’re on suppressants? Was this heat expected?”

“No,” Illumi writhes struggle for words.

“Never mind we can talk later let me go get you somethings. I’ll be back as fast as I can.” With that Hisoka leaves the bedroom and heads swiftly for the kitchen. He takes two pill bottles from the cabinet and takes a pill from the first one; a suppressant of his own. He doesn’t usually take them but has them for emergencies like this to prevent him from going into rut. Then he gets a glass of water and a thermometer and heads back to Illumi.

Illumi looks worse than when he left. He is read hot and writhing trying desperately to hold himself back and maintain some dignity.

“Illumi here, something for the pain.” Hisoka helps Illumi take the pain medicine and drink some water.

“Thank you,” Illumi whispers through his ragged breathing.

Hisoka then used the forehead thermometer to check Illumi, 101.3F, he’ll be okay, Hisoka will watch it.

“Do you need anything else?” Hisoka asks then hesitantly adds, “I can help you if you want me to… I’m an alpha you know.”

“No,“ Illumi whispers immediately. “I-I dont like doing that.” Illumi cries harder.

“Hisoka I hate this.” Illumi feels scared and small, like being 17 again locked in his room having his first heat. Illumi doesn’t like to talk about it but he hates the idea of sex or anything sexual. It disgusts him. Heats are the only time he ever has sexual feeling and it is hell for him. This is why he always takes suppressants. He has only had 3 heats prior to this; once that first time at 17 again at 19 and again at 21. He was supposed to let himself have one every other year but last year it had been too difficult to make himself do it so against the advice of his doctor he had stayed on the pill illegally. He had been fine up until a couple hours ago when it had hit him like a freight train and he found himself far from home unable to protect himself.

“Okay okay, it was just an offer.” Hisoka watches Illumi curly up on his side, slick is wetting throw his pants.

“Wanna put something more comfortable on? Im gonna go grab some towels to put under you so you can stay clean.” Its unlike Hisoka to be this serious, especially about something that could warrant many sex jokes however the vulnerability Illumi is showing is enough of a shock to make him grow up for the time being.

Illumi hums is appreciation as Hisoka lays the bed with fresh towels and helps illumi into a nightgown. He leaves Illumi’s underwear on not wanting to make him feel unsafe.

Illumi finally falls asleep and Hisoka takes this opportunity to braid the man’s long raven hair so that it won’t be tangled with all the writhing and thrashing that will occur once he wakes.

[fathomlesscrazy]

Fic Masterlist

bc I haven’t used this platform in ages and I promise my personality has broadened beyond hunter x hunter in my time away. All of these are rated T or under except the hunger games & twissy one which are rated M.

⭐️ = one of my favorites

DOCTOR WHO:

twelve talks about jamie

twissy: we’re sick!! Sick and twissy (users only)

clara confronts twelve about missy

Brian & Anthony Williams

tenjackrose goodbye

journey’s end tenrose

DOCTOR STONE:

senku struggles with sleep fth gift

probably the worst thing I’ve written but one shots I don’t claim the person I was when these were posted.

ATTACK ON TITAN:

reiner & porco fth gift

⭐️ ymir & historia make me sob fun one to write

discontinued eremin trash they were in the pandemic. I had some detailed plot building for this but I got bored of aot 😍

INUYASHA:

largely abandoned (???) summer school au where Kagome & company failed 10th grade and fight off their evil math teacher (Naraku) and I promise the premise is very entertaining I just fell out of love with the show

HUNTER X HUNTER:

(We gonna be here for a while thanks to my greed island ficlets; will sort by characters/relations as well) ⚡️= (potential) manga spoilers

Long fics:

abandoned atla crossover

⭐️ (hiatus) hunger games crossover

Alluka:

alluka & nanika study

time spent locked up

Killua and/or Gon:

scars

promises (ca arc bs)

more ca arc bs - Gon keeps reliving the fight

Killua & Gon r besties

Killua & Gon fix their friendship after 10k of being bitter one of my worse ones it’s very back and forth

⭐️ rain

Abandoned/rotting 5-parter about Gon facing his lack of Nen as told through the 5 stages of grief

11:11 after nen & election arc. Ignores manga.

⭐️ Probably my favorite KG fic ever that I’ve written: Gon wants to go to space; Killua plays the cello, unnecessary angst

Freecs Family:

⚡️they get bored - very fun to write

mito through the years

Daedalus & Icarus: Ging & Gon

Miscellaneous

morel & knov & learning Nen

killua takes care of a sick leorio

au: nurse leorio observes patients melody & kurapika

melody & kurapika & nightmares

9k zepile/leorio art theft trash

canon divergence: netero tells meruem his name

⭐️ au: gungi tournament merukomu

⚡️pre Hisoka v Chrollo

tonpa straight trash

⭐️ zushi-centric magic au one shot which may get its own series if I get back into hxh

Pokkle (ca arc bs)

main 4, Rick and morty if you squint

kalluto study

projecting by writing bisky - yay

ging & razor

[yamifox9]

Snippet I had written down for backstory of my yokai au Velvet and Veneer with her comforting him after his near-death experience

As the young teenage fox bolted through the forest with no determined destination, her breathing caught up with her panicked state. The events of what had just happened still replaying in her mind,

It had been another normal day so far when she happened upon the grisly scene. She had suddenly smelled blood, a lot of it. To her horror, she immediately recognized whose it was as she took in the sight of the two bodies before her when she looked straight ahead.

Which was none other than their parents. Brutally slain with blood spattered everywhere. She froze, horrified and in disbelief for a few moments. “Mama…? P-papa…? What…?” Was all she could get out at the time.

Then to make matters worse, almost immediately she heard a yelp which turned into a terrified whine, dread filling her as she knew exactly who it was but desperately hoped she was wrong. Hesitantly looking over to where the sound came from, her fears were unfortunately confirmed. For right there, struggling to free himself was none other than her dear, sweet younger twin brother, Hisoka aka Veneer.

‘Hisoka!’ Himeko aka Velvet cried out in her mind.

Tears were streaming down his face with sapphire eyes clenched shut as he tried in vain to pry his attacker off his neck. If he couldn't break free, he at least prayed for a quick end as she desperately willed herself to move to try and fight off his assailant.

‘Move, damn it! MOVE! Please, not him! I can't lose him too!’ Himeko/Velvet internally screamed.

Thankfully before the final blow could be dealt and thus the teen foxboy's fate being sealed, he was suddenly let go as something spooked it off.

“Hicchan!” His sister's voice then faintly reached his ears as he coughed and gasped for air. He had rolled onto his side and slowly started to push himself up as she finally rushed over to him.

As she knelt by his side, he then threw his arms around her. “Nee-sama…!” Breaking down into full heaving sobs, he buried his face in her chest as he clung to her, ears pressed back against his head in terror. She held him tight and cradled his head.

“Sshhh, it's okay, I'm here. I'm right here. Ochitsuke, otouto (Calm down, little brother).” She soothed, stroking the waist-length hair.

She then knew she had to get them both out of there but not while he's in this much distress at the moment. Quickly remembering a certain tune, she breathed in deeply and let the first words flow out:

“May I stand unshaken amid, amidst the crash of the world,”

Hisoka/Veneer started to quiet down at the sound of his sister crooning, her voice shaky at first but then became more steady.

“Did I hear the thunder? Did I hear you break?

I can't quite remember just what guided me this way, oh”

He pressed closer to her as she rested her head on top of his.

“May I stand unshaken amid, amidst the crash of the world

The pines, they often whisper

They whisper what no tongue can tell

He who drinks from the deep water

May he know the depths of the well, well”

He remembered hearing this song from time to time growing up around their village as his sobs became sniffles and soft whimpers, still trembling slightly in her embrace.

“May I stand unshaken amid, amidst the crash of the world

May I stand unshaken amid, amidst the crash of the world”

She felt his body relax more as she continued and finished.

“Mmm, oh, traveler, what have you seen?

Were there crossroads where you been, where you been?

May I stand unshaken amid, amidst the crash of the world

May I stand unshaken amid, amidst the crash of the world

May I stand unshaken amid, amidst the crash of the world”

As the last notes hung in the air, she felt her brother having now fully relaxed. “Thank you, Aneue,” to which she replied, “anytime, ‘soka.” Right then and there is when she decided to take him and run.

She had quickly swiped something off each of the bodies for the both of them before he was attacked. Afterwards she had grabbed him and took off out of there with him in tow. In her panicked logic, what had slaughtered them could come back and finish them off, too. Her brother especially! She was dreading having to break the news to him and she knew it had to be soon. Maybe when they both tired themselves out from running as long as they possibly could. But for the moment, she was determined to keep safe what she believed was the only family she had left.

I'm not into Red Dead Redemption at all but this song is what dredged this idea back up and it just fit the situation. She would also sing it to comfort him after nightmares he suffers for a while as a result:

[imagineanime2022]

Shadow *Part 4*

Hisoka Morrow X Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 633

Requested: Anon

Request: Hello, I hope you're doing well. I read your platonic Hisoka x Teen vampire reader story and was wondering if you could do a oneshot where the reader just has a breakdown and sobs. And being the only person Hisoka considers as a sister, he hugs and comforts the reader?

*Part 3*

It had been a couple of weeks since you had seen Chrollo, you had been with Hisoka the whole time and while you were with him, you were able to ignore the conversation that you had, the confirmation that your brother had given you, he wanted you dead, you were worth less to him then the people he had surrounded himself with.

Hisoka had noticed the difference in you, you were slower to start, having trouble focusing, feeding less. He knew it had everything to do with you seeing your brother but he wasn’t sure how to get you to talk about it. Hisoka had always been good at goading people but he knew that wasn’t what he wanted from you so he was careful as he approached you.

This was another night that Hisoka had brought you blood, he placed the bottle in front of you, you glanced at it for a second and reached for it, he could see the moment that you put it to your lips that you were forcing yourself to drink it. “What’s going on?” He asked. “Hm?” You asked not actually looking at him, but at the wall behind him he realised. “You’ve been acting weird, you haven’t been eating well, you're quiet and you hardly leave this room.” Hisoka listed as he waited for you to get angry but instead he watched as you seemed to sink into defeat, you had only looked like this once before and that was when you were still part of the troupe, it made him angry. “I just… I didn’t think that he hated me.” You said softly “I thought that if we brought him the cure to his little problem that we’d be able to go our separate ways but he just said that he hates me and that he’s looking for a way to kill me. I don’t know why it hurts so much, I…” The tears that welled in your eyes caused him to lean forward gently, wiping them as they fell. “They don’t know what they have lost.” Hisoka said as his other hand wrapped around yours “your strength and abilities are unparalleled.” “I’m weak.” You said through gritted teeth and harsh breaths. “I crawled back to them hoping that they would see me for something more, when you and Illumi have been here the whole time, you’ve both taught me how to be everything that I am and I still wanted them… Him.” “There was always going to be a part of you that was hurt by them, no matter how strong you are because you still feel something… Being a vampire hasn’t stopped you from having feelings and honestly I think that you might be more in tune with them then you ever have been. When you woke you were angry and you focused on that feeling but since then you’ve calmed down and you even gave them the chance to make it up. They were stupid not to take it but I promise you that they will never get close enough to hurt you and I know that you feel sad now but it will get better.” He explained. “It will?” You asked. “Hmm, it seems like vampires feel everything 100x more than us humans do, I know that you will get through it.” Hisoka promised and you smiled at him as you pushed forward, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his clothes. “Thank you, your better family than they ever could have been, I’m so glad that you found me.” You said softly and he gave a soft chuckle “As am I.” He said, wrapping his arms around you, making a note to tell Illumi about Chrollo’s plans to get rid of you, and to plan accordingly.

Request Here!!

[gojoest]

ai 💞💞💞 i love you so much and i’m off anon because i stand by my questions!!! <3

1. who is your favorite character aside from go** and shanks?

2. what is your ultimate comfort food/meal?

3. if you could live anywhere in the world (pretend you have the financial means to live wherever you want), where would you live and why?

kae you are literally my dearest and i love you so SO very much <3

1. i’m going to completely leave jjk out of this btw and list some characters i don’t talk about much or not at all (at least here) but love so dearly, so here we go !

one piece: i have so many fave op characters but my tops (aside from shanks that is) are : ace, zoro, doflamingo, luffy, law & robin

haikyuu: i love them all but my heart belongs to iwaizumi hajime forever and always

hunter x hunter: killua (my child), hisoka, chrollo, illumi, feitan, meruem, pakunoda, palm

bleach: AIZEN, UNOHANA, ichigo, zaraki, urahara, byakuya, grimmjow, shunsui, yoruichi, ulquiorra

vagabond: sasaki kojiro!!!!!!!!!!!! (i am obsessed with him)

k project: suoh mikoto

kuroko no basket: akashi, aomine, kise, kiyoshi

aria: alice, alicia, akari

samurai champloo: mugen

puella magi madoka magica: homura

i can keep going but i’ll stop here or else

2. pizza! pasta! sushi! rice! anything with rice I LOVE RICE SO MUCH! my favorite rice dish is sarma (rice stuffed in grape leaves) and i can eat my weight in it :3

3. hmmm this is a tough one but i’d choose barcelona! i was there years ago but think i left part of myself there. idk i was just so impressed like it’s truly one of the most beautiful cities i’ve ever been to, not only architecture wise but like the ppl there, too — they were all so warm and welcoming, it all made me fall in love so deeply with the place. during my whole stay there i felt like i was at home and was pretty homesick when i left :( missing it so so much i want to go back again one day. also fun fact, growing up i was a huge football fan (not anymore tho) and maybe it has something to do with my dad being a retired football player lmao but yea, my favorite team has always been barca which maybe makes me a bit biased about the city itself and why it’s my dream place to live in. i remember how i was in literal tears when i first entered camp nou (it’s fc barcelona’s stadium/home). i literally cried LIKE ACTUAL TEARS and had goosebumps that just wouldn’t go away even after returning to my hotel room like i thought there was something wrong with my skin but it was just me being overwhelmed by emotions. it was such an experience.. like football to me back then was what jjk is to me rn and barca was like gojo to me… do you understand how obsessed i was kajshdsskala

ANYWAY sry i rambled so much sob T—T and thank you for dropping by with such lovely questions <3

[boy-pussyyy]

ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴏʀ ʙᴇʟᴛ?

tw: noncon, dark fic, brat taming, spanking, belt usage, no gendered terms, but "pussy, cunt, and breast" are used. not beta'd

fandoms: jjk, bnha, haikyuu, hxh

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴏɴꜱɪʙʟᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ.

spanks you with their hand: NANAMI, AIZAWA, hawks, deku, oikawa, kenma, osamu, AKAASHI, Nobunaga

he doesn't mind your little trantrums because it means he gets to fulfill the dirty fantasies he's always wanted to do when you two make love.

there's nothing like feeling the heat of your suple flesh each time his hand strikes the sensitive skin between your upper thigh and reddening cheeks. as much as he wants you to behave, he can't deny how much he loves the chance to put you in your place.

he cherishes each shy kiss almost as much as the times you're thrown over his lap like a petulant child, legs spasming with each strike to your ass.

sometimes he caresses the spot he just spanked, hushing your sobs as his fingers sink into your dripping cunt.

"Come on baby, be good for me," he coos. "I'll make it up to your poor pussy if you take your punishment like a good pet."

spanks you with a belt/paddle: geto, All for one, bakugou, IIDA, sakusa, atsumu, feitan, chrollo, ILLUMI

he's cold and clinical, driving home the idea that you're so beneath him that he'll use any tool to put you in your place.

the use of a belt or paddle means he gets to hit you harder, able to focus all his attention on where the next strike will land, watching as it paints your ass red and blue.

if he's feeling particularly mean he'll land a couple unforgiving spanks to your puffy clit, taking pleasure as you shriek and writhe on his lap, soaking his thighs in your wetness.

he'd be lying if he said he was unaffected by your squirming and cries; the sight of your tear-stricken face and whimpers sending a rush of heat to his fattening cock.

maybe if you beg prettily enough after this is over he'll kiss your clit to soothe the sting of your much-deserved punishment.

[bonus] both: ERASERMIC, bakudeku, dabihawks, osamu & atsumu, hinaken, IWAOI, hisoka/illumi, uvogin/Nobunaga

one holds you down while the other spanks you, the two alternating between their hands and a paddle.

you beg so beautifully for them, back arching in a delicious curve each time they land a strike on your poor ass.

if you had any fight left, you'd curse them out for taking pleasure in your screams and sobs. but fighting back only makes the meaner one hit harder.

"if you want to act like a fuckin' brat, we'll treat you like one," he snarls.

the other fondles your beasts with his free hand, pinching a nipple with deft fingers.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as you choke back your moans. shame sinking down in your belly and you pray they didn't hear it. but the gentler of the two snaps his gaze to yours, keen eyes darkening with desire.

"hide your noises one more time and we'll add another twenty spanks."

you whine, shaking your head "no" as he sucks bruises into your neck. a guttural scream tears out of your throat when his hand comes down on your cunt, face burning in humiliation as you clench around nothing.

"atta girl, gushing all over me."

"move, i want a taste."

you gasp as they flip you over, manhandling you onto your back.

the softer one laps at your swollen clit while the other presses his dripping cock to your lips, sneer on his face as he pushes the head into your mouth.

maybe you'll think twice before misbehaving.

ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

[verida32]

Honorable mentions: All of the school link skills go here because I love seeing their interactions in school and seeing how they change as the game evolves (I'm starting at you, Yosei Uni) and Spring Troupe (since they're my favorite troupe).

Top 5 link skills gooooo

#5: Reborn in a New World I wish there are more events with them, they have so much potential to do chaos, and bonus points if honorary chunni member Tsumugi joins them. Members: Itaru, Taichi, Kumon

#4: Leaders link I really care for their dynamic and Mankai Stage is amazing with this by adding in scenes where the leaders learn from each other, so it's great to see them interact because it's always insightful and/or hilarious. Members: Sakuya, Tenma, Banri, Tsumugi

#3: Shojo Manga Club/Eager Beavers There's something about these two skills that make me place in the same ranking. On one hand, you have a yakuza and a party guy spending time with the quiet guy in the group as they share in Shoujo manga. Sometimes book club really does bring people together. And then on the second hand, you have these two guys who are so passionate for their dreams and they started from nothing to becoming some of the best talents in the company :') I am very happy of Sakuya and Juza and every time I see them together I feel like nothing is impossible for them.

Shoujo Manga Club members: Muku, Kazunari, Sakyo Eager Beavers: Sakuya, Juza

#2: Lone Wolves There is something about the four of them that make them the perfect candidates for flexible fan creations. Want to write angst that will send people into a sobbing mess? Lone Wolves. Want to make such wholesome fluff that you change one's viewpoint? Lone Wolves. Want to make a playlist where you can add the most unhinged songs, place them next to the most heart-moving ballads and an upbeat inspirational song and it still works? Lone Wolves. They are so flexible for content creation it's amazing.

Members: Sakuya, Chikage, Hisoka, Azuma

#1: Mahjong Club I quite literally learned how to play mahjong thanks to this link skill. Though it's also funny because when I streamed All Night Tenpai Fever once when I was playing mahjong online and then I got my first yakuman. It's a great link skill with great memories, and never lets me down in drama shows. And then thanks to this skill I got my rls to learn and play mahjong. Has one of each troupe, blends really well for game meta, and it's a very lovely skill that needs more recognition. Members: Citron, Kazunari, Sakyo, Azuma

Mankai March question 25!

Let’s talk link skills! What’s your favorite link skill? Is it your favorite troupe, or an odd combo? From the Adult Onigiri Enjoyers to the Lone Wolves, let’s show some love!

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Performance Event - Winter Troupe's Tenth Play: Nomadic Bartender - Epilogue: And Yet, The Journey Continues

Izumi: It’s been a while since I soaked in this atmosphere~!

Mika: << We have been expecting you! >>

Tangerine: Well water to the Kingdom of Zahra!

Citron: Tangerine, it’s welfare!

Guy: Waffle?

Homare: I believe it’s welcome.

Tasuku: What kinda three-way disaster is this?

Mika: << Guy-sama, I heard your play was a great success. Everyone, myself included, is looking forward to your performance here. >>

Mika: << I did not think you would actually be performing here in Zahra when I wrote to you that I would not be able to watch your performance. >>

Mika: << I am so happy about this– >>

Tsumugi: I can’t understand what he’s saying, but I can tell Mika-kun is very happy.

Homare: A stark difference to the disappointment he expressed in the letter.

Azuma: He must be really glad.

Guy: << Mika, let’s pick up this conversation later— >>

Mika: !!

Mika: << M-My apologies. Everyone, you are invited to the royal palace’s dinner banquet tonight. >>

Mika: << I will be your guide. >>

Guy: There seems to be a dinner banquet tonight.

Homare: A dinner banquet at the royal palace, hm. I’m looking forward to it.

Citron: I’m so happy to get to see everyone after such a long time~

-

Zahra’s King: << Citronia, I heard that you played a large part in the creation of this theater festival. >>

Zahra’s King: << I hope you will continue to demonstrate your abilities as the International Minister of Arts and Culture. >>

Citron: << I will continue working hard to help Zahra grow. >>

Zahra’s King: << Guy, the long journey must have been tough. >>

Guy: << Not at all. It is an honor to perform here in Zahra. >>

Tangerine: MANKAI Company’s name is well-known throughout the Kingdom. Everyone is happy that you’re performing here.

Guy: We will do our best to meet everyone’s expectations.

Homare: But I’m sure you are overjoyed. For your second main lead role, you had a heartwarming reunion with your father and now you get to perform in Zahra as well…

Homare: This will be an unforgettable performance for you, Guy-san. Oh, the feels… *sob*

Tsumugi: Homare-san’s already had a bit too much to drink, huh…

Azuma: I remember him being quite happy with Zahra’s alcohol. He might’ve gone a bit overboard.

Tasuku: I think it’s time you toned it down a little.

Hisoka: … I changed his cup to water.

Izumi: Woah…!

Citron: Guy, you invited your father this time, didn’t you?

Guy: Yes. It seems he has already arrived here in Zahra.

Guy: I wanted to go pick him up, but he said he couldn’t let me do that because I have the upcoming performance to focus on.

Guy: So, I have decided I will show him around Zahra after the performance is over.

Citron: That’s a good idea! You should tow him around town!

Guy: Parade him around town, you mean.

Tasuku: That is not how you use that sentence.

Izumi: Still, the serious way he refuses to let you pick him up is just like you.

Guy: That reminds me, the other day…

[Flashback starts]

Guy: It’s been decided the Winter Troupe will hold a performance in Zahra.

Tooru: In Zahra? You’re having overworld performances, that’s amazing.

Guy: You mean other world performances?

Tooru: Yes, you’re right. Sorry, sorry.

Hisoka: Overseas performances…

Guy: I’d like to invite you, if you want to come.

Tooru: ——

Tooru: I would really like to see you perform, but…

Tooru: From what you’ve told me, living in Zahra with your mother must have been difficult.

Tooru: Part of it is my fault, so I wonder if it’s okay for me to go there…

Guy: Of course, I have bad memories there, but it’s also the precious place where I got to meet Citronia and make many childhood memories.

Guy: I want to show it to you, Dad.

Tooru: I see… Those words do bring me a bit of relief.

Tooru: I’ve always wanted to go to Zahra, you know. It’s part of your darts, after all.

Guy: I think you mean sheets.

Hisoka: Roots… 

Hisoka: You two are way too similar…

Tooru: Oh? You think so?

Guy:  This is somewhat embarrassing to hear, but it makes me happy.

[Flashback ends]

Tasuku: This was a good story till halfway through…

Tsumugi: I suppose their tendency to make the same mistakes is what makes them so similar.

Hisoka: I think it’s genetic…

Izumi: Genetic!? Is such a thing possible!?

Guy: But simply being able to talk to him like this makes me happy.

Azuma: Thanks to being able to meet again, you’re now able to find new common grounds.

Homare: How truly joyous…! *sob*

Hisoka: … Alice’s switch turned on again.

Tasuku: We need to sober him up a little more.

-

Guy: …

Hisoka: … Citron said you’d be here.

Guy: Were you looking for me?

Hisoka: … Everyone’s drunk and noisy. I can’t sleep.

Guy: You’ve come to the right place, then.

Hisoka: … It’s really pretty.

Guy: Yes. That’s exactly why I like it.

Guy: Sitting here like this makes me remember the days I spent here in Zahra.

Guy: It was not exactly smooth sailing, and there are things that are painful to even think about.

Guy: But, those are the things that make up my life. Those are the things that make me who I am, I believe.

Guy: I suppose this is how this journey called life will continue from today onwards as well.

Hisoka: Yeah…

-

Tsumugi: It’s almost time for our real final performance.

Homare: Is this not our grandest stage yet? A final performance, in Zahra of all places.

Tasuku: You can just feel the audience’s excitement.

Hisoka: Citron and the others wouldn’t stop talking about how excited they were.

Azuma: After we’re all finished, you’ll mix up some delicious cocktails for us as usual, yes? 

Guy: Leave it to me.

Guy: Now, let’s be off. On our life’s new journey.

previous episode | masterpost

[icharchivist]

Just saw a post about hxh hisoka and genuinely forgot he existed for a blissful minute and thought the post was about a3 Hisoka (the objectively better Hisoka)

my curse and my burden. I still follow quite a few of my hxh mutuals from the way back and once in a while i am forced to remember the clown exist and i get to cry.

Sometimes i see textposts about Hisoka on my dash, and i find the words used in it to be very weird and not at all appropriated to OUR Hisoka and then suddenly i see who posted it and i react like a cat who had a huge buck of cold water dumped on.

I'll never forgive the clown for it. Hisoka Mikage only Hisoka to matter. The better, bestest of all the Hisoka. Loving him for ever. Unlike the other one. Where's my banner.

Here goes. The one and only.

[monosanimegenericzone]

SOBBING

uvo died for the cause. paku died for chrollo. shalnark and kortopi died because of chrollo.

AAAAAAAAAAA YOU CANT DO THIS TO MEEEEEEEEE

i think youre right though. he probably figured it out when they were making the exchange and he may have been angry at the time because his ideals- oh no his ideals noo chrollo your STUPID self sacrificing ideals!!- clashed with pakus but immediately after he realizes why she did it.

because hisoka was a liar and fate could have been changed if he had "sacrificed" hisoka instead.

WHICH FRUSTRATES ME TO NO END BECAUSE HISOKA. BEING THERE. SINGLEHANDEDLY TWISTED CHROLLO'S IMPLICIT TRUST IN HIS SPIDERS AND IM RHARHGAHRHAHHRHAHHRHAHHRA

it was genius and i hate him for it.

it must have been the hardest whiplash chrollo had ever gotten. just an hour prior hed been furious that paku had come alone and essentially traded herself for him. but the next he sees this zesty ass clown walking down the air strip and hears the exchange over the phone.

and he goes.

"ah. so thats how it is."

AND ITS HIS FAULT ONCE AGAIN.

*dies*

At some point Chrollo realised Pakunoda had died,and done that for him as much as for the Spider

He thought he was worthless as a hostage..because he set things up in a way that would let him be,but he was wrong and his life was worth dying for in her opinion.

Now would that not make him value it more?

With Uvogin’s death the Spider gains the additional purpose of living on for his sake,in his name and in the name of those who died before him(original 8&4)

But Pakunoda sacrificed herself for Chrollo specifically so if he were to continue disregarding his life,her death would be for nothing.

I wonder,is that what made him prepare so well for his fight against Hisoka? 100% certainty he would win..he actually took care of keeping Hisoka at a safe distance. Idk if things would be different had yorknew played out another way but I like to believe Chrollo was influenced by Pakunoda.

So he went and borrowed Shalnark’s and Kortopi’s abilities in an effort which led to him losing two more people.

He thinks there’s no value to his life..his friend dies so he can live making him rethink that. Then when he approaches a fight carefully keeping himself safe two members die directly because of him.

So to sum it up we have Uvo dying for the cause and the rest because of Chrollo..

[cat3ch1sm]

🐸| hello everyone! i made the mistake of staying up until 3am and came up with these cracked hxh headcanons. yes i know i write for hxh way too much which is why i need u guys to send requests for other fandoms😀 not that i don't love hxh hcs and ur totally welcome to send those in, but if u have any thoughts for the fandoms i write for send them in<33

🥝| also my birthday is in three weeks omg. stg i still feel like a little kid

🌱| anyways enjoy these hcs<33 they're definitely not canon but it is funny 2 imagine😭💀 ily guys

part 2 with the butlers??? let me know🤭

part 3 with the phantom troupe??? LMFAOO

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ maybe some homophobia?

how would the Zoldyck family react if they find out that hisoka and illumi are an item?

silva

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bro is still kinda trying to get the "illumi likes men" thing. silva can kill hundreds of people at once and is the most feared assassin ever, but when it comes to his kids actually having... like... lives... his mind just empties.

・❥・so when illumi just pulls up with "hisoka and i are dating" in the most unemotional tone known to man, silva's brain doesn't really process it right off. he sits there for like ten seconds straight in silence with an intimidatingly blank stare. imagine the little "loading..." thing over his head

・❥・and then he gets it. he blinks. looks at hisoka and illumi awkwardly, with a brow arched or something. then looks down at kikyo, who is sobbing on his shoulder into his shirt.

・❥・he stares at his wife for a few more very long seconds before looking back up at his son and his maniac pedophile clown bf, rolling his eyes as he gestures with his head for them to just go.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

kikyo

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ she was never on board with hisoka and illumi's whole thing to begin with. she does not understand why Illumi wants to spend all his time with hisoka, who she thinks is creepy and overly eccentric, when he could be spending time with a lovely woman who also kills people to carry on the Zoldyck name.

・❥・and she really wasn't with the gay thing anyway. she would have lots of perfectly eligible murdery women meet illumi in hopes that they would get together and bear a Zoldyck child. but here he is. kikyo just cannot understand it.

・❥・although, it's a tiny bit less about the gay stuff than it is about the fact that it's hisoka. hisoka. him of all people. why? his aura is repulsive, he runs around in crop tops, heels, waist trainers, makeup, and pink hair. illumi had already been poisoned, kikyo could tell, when he started with the crop tops as well. but it had been worse than she had thought. now here they were, the disgusting clown and her perfect illumi saying they were dating.

・❥・it was enough to make her burst into tears- and cry she did. the second illumi finished his sentence, the waterworks began. now it was too late.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

zeno

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ "Like I care. Just don't have sex in the house."

・❥・enough said

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

alluka

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ i don't know how she'd find out, really. maybe killua told her? but despite the fact that Illumi doesn't even consider alluka a family member or even a human being, she'd be thrilled for him <\3

・❥・"Big big brother has a boyfriend? Really?!"

・❥・she'll want to know everything about hisoka- what he looks like, how he behaves, what about him attracted her brother. romance thrills her, no matter who it's between or if the people involved are trying to kill her☹️

・❥・"Will I get to meet him? :D"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

kalluto

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ he'd been collecting clues for a while. he noticed when illumi stopped cutting his hair, when his clothing style changed, how much more often Illumi was going to hisoka for assistance in missions and such rather than his family- whether he actually needed the help or not.

・❥・and when illumi joined the phantom troupe "per hisoka's request," and when he spoke of an "engagement ring" and "prenup" despite there being other less fruity terms he could have used to describe the contract- kalluto was almost 100 percent sure.

・❥・ the kicker, though, was when kalluto found out that they had contracted each other to kill... each other. they both shared the same twisted idea of "romance" and "friendship," and this basically set kalluto's suspicions in stone.

・❥・so kalluto half-heartedly played dumb when Illumi announced their official status as a couple- but long story short, he wasn't surprised. he isn't really fond of hisoka, but he sees no point in messing with the relationship, so he doesn't care much overall.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

milluki

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ this mf doesn't look up from his computer screen and potato chips and weird dolls long enough to even notice that hisoka existed, let alone how much time he and his brother spent together. so he's wayyy out of the loop when illumi makes his announcement.

・❥・bro almost chokes to death on his snack when illumi's done. when he finally pulls himself together, he gives Illumi a look and is basically like "ew, weirdos"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

killua

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ *screaming intensifies*

・❥・illumi. his psychopath brother. hisoka. the pedophile clown man who has a crush on his twelve year old best friend. dating. illumi. gay. with. hisoka. what the fuck what the duck what the fuck

・❥・this could go two ways. one, illumi makes his announcement, and killua immediately starts dramatically falling to the floor and screaming hysterically while pretending to vomit. may or may not ask if he can put a hit on himself. hell, he'll demand someone put a hit on him- he'll be waiting with open arms for them to come and end his misery

・❥・or, killua takes matters into his own hands. he doesn't react at all before calmly exiting the room, walking through the halls, entering mike's domain, and simply climbing up the dog's fur into his mouth. perhaps he'll take a stroll up to the roof of the house and throw himself off?? either way, he's ending this shit

[uselessheretic]

one thing that i feel like is annoying with villain discourse is this weird insistence that if you like villains then you MUST like then exclusively because they suck and want nothing more than that and for them to be evil. like? not all villains are flat out evil! sometimes villains can have nuances! it's weird when people say they hate when villains are given backstories or made sympathetic because i love it when they are? an evil villain whos evil for no reason can hit p hard esp if they have the cunt aesthetics to back it up, but the ones that stick with me are often the ones with detailed characterization who are sympathetic.

like i love killmonger! i love that he does bad things! i dont think hes evil though. i empathize with his struggles. i can understand how he got to where he is and i feel mournful that he never got to have a happy ending.

i think hisoka hxh is a fun villain, but mereum, when he was given human emotion and changed from pure evil to a person with the capacity for love, that's what made me sob in hxh! is he evil? whos to really say hes just an animal doing what his nature tells him to. thats not an important thing to dwell on for me though when im more impacted by being able to see his character show compassion and receive it in return.

"if youre going to like izzy like him because he sucks dont make him sympathetic" okay but i dont want to. i love that ofmd challenges our perspective, that stede himself is a morally ambiguous character that occupies the role of the villain in another persons story. izzy to me is more interesting and a better written character when hes given complexity. being mean to ed for no reason is dull. trying to hold on to someone you love so hard it hurts you both though? thats the good shit.

i like when villains are given redemption arcs. i like when heroes look at someone that hurt them and can still feel compassion. i love any story where the love for another person compels a person to make bad decisions. its more fun for me this way at least partially bc if i wanted black and white morality at all times i would turn on PBS!