#can ghosts wear clothes?? idk this one can | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starsofang · 3 months ago

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CALL OF THE SEA / PART TEN

pirate poly!141 x reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, brief mentions of death/blood, gaz being a little shit, foreshadowing idk but we gettin into it masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

“You need new clothes.”

You glanced down at the loose fabrics swallowing your body.

You’d grown a routine of wearing various pieces of the men’s clothing apart from Ghost, given that your own clothes weren’t much to wear at all. They were old and dirtied, practically useless against the changing seasons of the chill that began to shift in the wind.

“We’ve got to stop on the Mainland, gather a few things for travels,” Gaz continued, eyeing the lousy clothes. “Would you like to shop for somethin’ new?”

“Really?” you asked bashfully.

It would be nice to have something of your own, something that was yours. While you weren’t doused in riches and gold back in your village, you had clothing that was to your own comfort and liking.

Men’s clothing was itchier than you liked, even with finer cotton.

“‘Course,” he assured with a warm smile. “Not that it’s not a bit humorous seein’ you wear our clothes for the time bein’, but I’m gettin’ sick of washin’ double the clothes.”

You smiled back at him, feeling a comforting warm burn through you. Gaz may have had his reservations in the beginning, but he was certainly becoming the most welcoming.

At the start, you thought he was cold, just as the rest of them. He was crude with the way he spoke, voice full of venom whenever he’d spoken to you, which was rare. Now, there was an underlying comfort, as if he felt the need to watch over you.

It wasn’t unwelcome, and was rather preferred. If you were going to be willed into this life of deadly chaos by no choice but Price’s own, then having somebody watching your back was certainly something you wouldn’t refuse.

“Clothes would be nice,” you sighed. “Thank you, Gaz.”

“No need,” he dismissed with a hand. “Consider it a loan. I get you new clothes, you owe me next time.”

“Next time?” You deflated, shoulders dropping. “I have no money to return to you, Gaz. Nor anything of consistency.”

Gaz laughed lightly, a hearty laugh that you always found contagious. It was full of life, lovely even.

The brief memory of him mentioning being a prince in his previous years always seemed to make its way back into your mind when you heard it. It wasn’t loud or boisterous like Soap’s, nor quiet and gruff like Price’s. There was a something more proper, more articulated when he laughed.

“You expect clothes for free, dove?” he teased. “I may be a gentleman in practice, but I’m still a pirate. Perhaps we can come up with a negotiation.”

“I have never been good with those,” you confessed with a heavy sigh.

“Mm. Let me think, then.” Gaz’s finger tapped mindlessly at his bottom lip, eyes narrowed in false concentration. As if a light bulb popped in his head, he snapped his fingers, pointing at you. “I will gift you coins for clothes as well as a few for our agreement. Once we’re on the Mainland, you go off and find me somethin’ I’ll like. If I don’t like it, then you must owe me for the clothes.”

You gawked at him, eyebrows furrowing. Gaz only smiled at you cheekily, a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

“That sounds less like a negotiation and more of a game that I am bound to lose,” you said flatly. He snickered.

“C’mon, birdie. Don’t you like games? Everyone does.” He leaned in close as if to mock you, hunching down to your level. You could feel his warm breath fan over your nose and cheeks.

The sudden proximity made you tighten up at the abruptness, taking a step back. His eyes flickered to your feet before back up at you. Something mischievous oozed from him, and it felt like Soap was the one teasing you rather than Gaz.

Why were you so flustered? Was it due to the absence of light-hearted mockery that you’ve now forgotten what it felt like?

“Okay, okay. I will find you the most brilliant gift on the Mainland,” you bragged, attempting to come off aloof.

Gaz’s smile grew, though he didn’t step away from you. “Excellent.”

You watched as he finally moved, straightening up. He radiated a boyishness, one you didn’t see often, so you allowed him the advantage. The two of you were growing friends, or at least that’s how it felt. You didn’t want to lose that feeling.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Price ordered his men. He said it with such warning, as if you weren’t standing amongst them.

It made sense, though you felt like a child with a leash on. After all, the last time you joined them on the Mainland, you ended up in a heated game of hide and seek with the soldiers you so stupidly entrusted.

Ghost stood silent, eyes peering over the side of the ship and to the faint view of the bustling town sitting several hundred yards away. He seemed on edge, more than he normally was, but you could only tell so much from his stiff body language.

You followed his view, squinting. The Captain decided it was best to dock the ship on a farther pier, away from the crowd. Out of sight, out of mind. Nobody would notice them unless they went searching.

“Aye, Cap,” Soap and Gaz synchronized.

Price glanced at Ghost, who shifted his focus off of the land and to his Captain. He gave him a curt nod, and seeing that Price was satisfied, the five of you began to head off.

Ghost was in charge of you this time, much to your dismay. It was evident Price was still weary of you running off, and it seemed Ghost was his most trusted candidate for the job.

The walk towards the busy town was quiet apart from Soap and Gaz speaking quietly behind you. You tried to listen in, but it seemed Soap had a keen sixth sense because before you knew it, his hands cupped over your ears, shielding you from the chatter.

You could very faintly hear Gaz snickering, so you frowned to yourself, disappointed.

You always wondered what they all spoke about when you weren’t around. It always felt like there was this lingering whisper in the air that spoke a language you didn’t understand.

The maps, the poem, none of it made sense to you and nobody was offering answers. Even when you tried to shush it in your mind as it played on replay, it never quite left. It was always in the corner, waiting to return once things got too quiet.

Glancing at Ghost from beside you, he gave no indication of… anything, really. Even after all this time, he was still an impossible read. He stood tall as always, walked with an edge to him, and kept his eyes forward.

You’d never met somebody so confusing yet utterly frustrating at the same time. One moment, he gave you hopes of a bright future on the ship—getting along, finding solitude in one another, empathizing understanding.

Yet as quickly as those feelings would come, they’d be squashed with a mere glare. A burning fire. Something reserved.

You didn’t think he understood himself, either.

When you came to the bounds of the town, Price stopped you. He glanced up at the sky, eyes squinting at the brightness on his retinas, before looking back.

The sun blared down on you from directly above.

“Return here when the sun falls to the west. If anythin’ happens, and I mean anythin’,” he paused, meeting your eyes before shifting back to his men, “then you run back to the ship and signal the bell. Am I understood?”

You really hoped Ghost was good with directions, or at least had a compass. You weren’t sure how to read the time through the sun’s positions. It was never a necessity before when you knew that it was nighttime when the moon came out to play.

You looked back at the ship that was now in the distance. It floated mindlessly along the lapping waves, bobbing back and forth as if saying hello.

The men confirmed with Price. Just as you were about to join them as they trudged on forward, Price stopped you with an arm held out, blocking you from walking.

“You aren’t goin’ to run off on me again, are you?” he asked quietly, though there was that familiar touch of authority to his tone. It wasn’t malicious, but you knew the implications—he wanted to trust you.

“No, sir,” you assured with a shake of your head. Out of the corner of your eye, you dared to look at Ghost, who was impatiently waiting if the tapping of his fingers on his crossed arms meant anything. “I won’t do such a thing.”

The Captain kept his arm up for a moment so he could look at you. His eyes searched yours, so much so it made you flustered.

“Good.” He nodded. “Go along, then.”

He dropped his arm, letting it fall to his side. He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he simply cleared his throat and gave you a farewell with a nod.

You watched him leave, disappearing into the swarm of shopping townsfolk. Curiosity festered you like a tick, itching into your skin, but you knew it was best to leave it be for now.

“You comin’?”

Ghost snapped you out of your spell. You quickly came back to reality, offering a quick nod before jogging to catch up to him, sticking to him like glue as you entered the town.

It was loud and overwhelming as you followed Ghost around. He made haste with purchases which ranged from stock for food to new knives that glinted tauntingly at you in the light, all of which were shoved into the bag thrown on his shoulders.

You knew people were staring. Even if they were directed towards Ghost and his eccentric appearance, it felt like they were watching you for even being associated with him.

The whispers between women about it being scandalous, the chatter between men who felt imposing threat from Ghost merely standing there.

You didn’t know why, but a part of you felt more defensive than humiliated. Your image was one mocked for the entirety of your lifespan, but Ghost had done nothing to warrant it. Not to them, anyway. To you was a different story.

None of that mattered now, though. You were growing increasingly irritated at being looked upon like a circus act.

“Ignore it,” Ghost muttered. You almost didn’t quite catch it. “I can feel you gettin’ huffy.”

You scowled, crossing your arms and turning your head. Ghost paid you no mind, continuing to browse in the small shop you were in.

“I am not huffy,” you mumbled.

Ghost paused, turning his head towards you. He stared, eyes flickering over your face—first to your furrowed eyebrows, then to your narrowed eyes, then down to your lips tugged into a frown.

He snorted quietly through his nose, returning to his browsing.

The sound made you turn your head. Dare you say it sounded amused, though it could be your ears deceiving you.

You decided to ignore it. The last thing you wanted was to bring it up and have him reserve back to permanently scowling.

Ghost straightened up from the various knives he was looking at, uninterested. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder.

“Need anythin’?” he asked, sniffing.

You perked up, hand coming to rest on the small pouch resting on your hip. It contained the coins Gsz gifted you for clothing, as well as the surprise gift he requested of you.

Nothing came to mind on what to get him. You were clueless, and really didn’t want to owe him.

“Gaz was generous enough to give me coins to buy my own clothes,” you explained, shaking the pouch. Coins within the bag clanked together.

Ghost glanced down at the pouch. “I see,” he hummed, a touch of confusion in his words. Almost as if he was surprised.

He gestured with his head to follow him. The two of you left the quaint shop, stepping back out on to the dusty road. Ghost didn’t move from the entrance, and when you looked up at him, he was already looking at you.

A silent question. He was allowing you to make the choice on where to go.

Looking around, you realized you knew close to nothing about shopping for clothes. Not of these kind, anyway. You were used to the muted, colorless fabrics that never seemed to fit quite right.

You decided on a shop that displayed a variety of different clothes and colors in the windows. Some looked too delectable for your taste, and much too expensive, while some were more simple.

Stepping inside, the sight was positively overwhelming. Colors of all kinds lined the walls. Stuffed mannequins were pinned together with dresses.

Ghost seemed severely uncomfortable. You were elated. A taste of your own self was hidden somewhere within these walls, and you were going to find it.

“Go ahead,” Ghost gruffed from beside you. He shifted on his feet, eyes averting to nowhere. “Not my thing.”

You hummed in response, leaving to browse on your own accord. If Ghost didn’t seem to mind, then you wouldn’t rush yourself.

You took your time. You went through everything you can think of—greens, blues, purples, reds. None seem to fit you. Or more so, you wouldn’t fit with them.

Neutrals were their friends. Browns, grays, anything above the stars. So, naturally, that’s what you went for. Something to fit in and not stand out. You were facing that enough as is.

Once you focused your preference, you found quite a few options and went with what felt best.

Ghost watched you with muted curiosity as you fluttered around the store with a heap of clothes in your arms. He only looked away once he was caught.

As you were about to call your search a success, a glint of gold in the corner of your eye caught your attention. A beautiful miniature telescope sat locked away in a glass case, made from dark wood and detailed with an exquisite gold design.

The sight of it instantly reeled you in.

It was the perfect gift for Gaz. You came to learn that he had a love for the moon and stars, often leaving the room late at night to ponder beneath them. You knew you wouldn’t lose your game if you got it for him.

The only issue was that the price was hefty.

You looked down at your strew of clothes, contemplating. The coins in your pouch would be enough for your clothes, but not for the telescope as well.

The telescope called out to you, like a secret siren’s song pulling you into captivity. It chose you, and you chose it back.

Ultimately, you graciously returned some of the fabrics back to their original areas, leaving them tidy and neat. You approached Ghost with nothing more than a few clothings items, enough to get you by.

You were never materialistic anyway.

Ghost stood, silently observing but feigning disinterest as you made the big purchase for your clothes, then requested the telescope. He made no comment, eyes following your every move as you emptied the contents of your pouch, the coins clanking along the counter.

The merchant was happy to sell it to you, claiming that nobody seemed interested. You were pleased to hear that, and with a quick and easy exchange, the clothes and telescope were yours, placed carefully into Ghost’s bag.

“Is that it, then?” Ghost huffed, shifting the weight of the bag on his shoulder.

You nodded, satisfied with your purchases as you set off along the old roads to return to the rest of the crew.

As you walked, your eyes ventured along the way, taking in the varying crowds. Some mothers, some fathers, some alone on their own journeys. None paid you any mind.

Until one did.

A man. Not as tall as your crew, but certainly as threatening. His entire aura would be misty black if it was visible to the naked eye. His hair was a cropped mess on his head, brown like the dirt beneath your shoes.

His skin was scarred and tainted, dark eyes piercing into you. Even from a distance, you feared you’d combust into a bloodied, explosive mess just from the sheer look he gave you.

The worst was his smile. Cocky. Arrogant. Evil.

If death were a man, this would be its vessel.

His lips were moving, though you couldn’t hear him. He was too far away. It wasn’t until the wind bristled, rising goosebumps along your skin did you hear it. His voice traveled along the breeze until it whisked to your ears, flooding through.

“I’ll be seeing you, dove.”

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fidenciocryptidcreechur · 28 days ago

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what i understand so far of Recent Twst Skully stuff

i have put tags for the twst nightmare before christmas event and tagged the character so this post has been labeled

this is from comparing and contrasting different translations from different folks, different translations from others, screenshots, and also youtube playthroughs (because i do not have twst jp but i am also deeply invested in the lore of Wonderland because it is SO GOOD)

Skully J Graves is considered a historical figure who founded the current Wonderland Halloween traditions (this implies that the skully we interacted with is from the past, and it seems he took sebek's words into consideration as the Current Wonderland Halloween traditions are not solemn and are instead festive and merry plus there's candy etc,)

Skully J Graves was once an NRC student. He eventually graduated and then spread the traditions of halloween in his life, he did this very successfully, enough so that he is considered the founder of Halloween.

Skully J Graves died a long time ago. He used to be an alumni, a student, CENTURIES BEFORE Crowley was even headmaster. ( which crowley has been a headmaster for NRC for quite some time so that's pretty freaking ancient. pretty far back in the time line i feel like)

Skully is dead, like beyond dead, he is a human who founded Wonderland Halloween literally centuries ago before a literal ancient FAE became Headmaster went there and crowley seems to have been headmaster for quite some time, so like Skully has very much been dead because he is an ANCIENT historical figure who founded a holiday before Crowley even took over.

Skully J Graves is heavily implied to still roam the lands as a ghost (people feel a phantom kiss on their hands after getting out)

While we did meet Skully J graves when he was 16, he later grew up and died from, yknow, time and age getting to him. He seems to have been VERY successful in spreading Halloween traditions. ( i can not express how incredibly dead he is due to the passage of time, that guy graduated and spread halloween spirit and died. So many centuries passed, like this guys bones are probably dust already, aint nothing left after that much time unless he managed to be buried in an environment that preserved him well enough)

Okay so now that the more canon stuff is out of the way here are some theories i have seen already pop up

He might have once been a resident of Ramshackle (he wears clothes that closely match the aesthetics and vibe of the abandoned dorm. I am unsure how likely this is but there ARE ghost of students that haunt that place and Skully used to to be a pretty lonely guy so maybe the dorm he used to live in was always a pretty lonesome place that was eventually abandoned. Also Twisted Wonderland is REALLY good about meaningful designs and placement and mentions of stuff so there could very well be something there, especially in twst jp.)

We might get him as a card but he will come visit as a Ramshackle ghost ( i do not know how likely this one is but i understand why they want this. I miss him too...)

He has been waiting for Yuu and company this whole time and when we finally came in at the right time he chucked that book at us to meet up. (this is just cute, i like it. who knows maybe he did idk but i love the idea)

any additional translations, additional info from screenshots or analyses are greatly appreciated ( check out yuurei20 for some super awesome analyses and translations of previous stuff, their linguistic dissection is great)

this took a bit because comparing and contrasting different translations from different folks and different screenshots and playthroughs so any additional info is awesome to have

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland ideas #twisted wonderland canon #skully j graves #twst halloween event #twst nightmare before christmas #twst jp

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simonrileysfavteacup · 8 months ago

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The Scare (Alternate Ending)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: Angst, kidnapping, torture, descriptions of blood n torture, comfort, simon in ghost mode, idk what else

Summary: No summary ;) have fun

Everyone knew Lieutenant Riley was cold. He was ruthless, cruel, heartless, and so much more.

But there was one thing that made him soft. One person.

You.

Barely anyone knew that the Lieutenant had picked himself up a hot little thing and managed to keep her. The two of you had been together for 3 years now and he was so close to proposing. He was ready to spend his life with you. He was ready to make you his and give you his last name.

But what happens when someone who shouldn’t know about you finds out about you?

***

Graves knew. Somehow he knew. He mentioned your name to Simon, “Ghost, that is not nice. How would your pretty little (Y/N) think of that?”

Simon shivered.

And then he realised.

Graves was coming for you.

***

You were curled up in bed, music playing in the background as you read one of your favourite romance books Simon had bought you. The lights were off, a single three-wick Bath and Body Works candle on your bedside table. It was peaceful. Cosy.

You were on the 15th chapter before you head footsteps and your front door opening.

Simon isn’t supposed to be home yet.

You check your phone.

Simon would’ve messaged if he was coming home.

There was no message. And he wouldn’t surprise you like this.

You sit up, turning off the music. The footsteps are doubled. There’s two people.

Simon wouldn’t come home with someone else. This wasn’t Simon walking around your apartment.

With trembling hands, you reach for Simon’s hidden knife, concealed under his side of the bed. You clutch in it a sweaty palm, silent praying that the person walking around your apartment is a friend, not a foe. The footsteps get closer. You take a deep breath.

The doorknob jiggles. Your anxiety skyrockets. There’s murmurs before a foot hits the door.

1 kick…

2 kicks…

3 kicks before the door finally busts open, shattering the lock. 2 men, dressed in black military uniform, hold up their guns to aim for your head. You suck in a breath.

“That her?” The first man asks.

“Think so. She fits the description,” the other one responds.

You shiver. They barely acknowledge you as they speak.

One of them steps closer to you, reaching for the knife in your hand. You strike, stabbing his wrist through the jacket he wears. He yells, “Bitch stabbed me!”

He pushes you, reaching down to grab his wrist, pulling out the knife. The other one walks over while you’re distracted, talking a hold of your arms and tying them behind your back. You yell before you hear the sound of duct tape ripping. Within seconds, there’s a piece over your mouth. You try to yell. No use.

They begin to speak to each other fast, so fast you can barely catch their words.

Help me…

The one you stabbed wraps up his wrist with a cloth, before picking up your legs. The other picks up your torso.

You thrash around in their arms, trying to get free as you kick the one you stabbed, He holds your feet together with one hand, barking out a quick, “Stop it!”

He has an American accent, you notice. They carry you out of your bedroom as you continue to thrash around. The front door comes into view. They have no care whatsoever, with you hitting your head on the wall. Black dots appear in your vision, slowly taking you out of consciousness.

***

Simon stepped into the apartment the two of you shared, praying he wasn’t too late.

The apartment was silent.

The first bad sign.

He walks towards your bedroom, the door wide open.

The second bad sign.

The bed was empty, your candle was still lit, and your book was closed on your bed.

With no bookmark.

The third bad sign.

He was too late. He knew he was too late.

***

2 weeks.

16 days.

16 nights you slept.

24 hours you counted every day.

16 days you slept uneasy.

Counting down the minutes until Simon would finally find you.

At least, you hoped he would.

The men brought you to what seemed like an old warehouse, locking you up in a dark grey rooms. 4 grey walls stared back at you. One little cot in the corner of the room, on the opposite wall, a door. A door you were dragged through every day to be taken to the room you were tortured in every day. They always asked the same questions.

And they were all about Simon.

You said nothing, of course. How could you betray him like that? He protects you, you protect him.

Even if it meant the bruises on your arms would keep coming, the cuts on your back wouldn’t stop bleeding, the grumbling in your stomach wouldn’t stop getting louder, and the pain would just grow.

You were willing to take it all for him. He was worth it.

You stare up at the grey ceiling above you, sighing as you lay on the cot, silently praying that wherever Simon is, he’s safe, he’s eaten, and he’s healthy. And he’s looking for you.

You know he probably is. He loves you. He tells you all the time that you’re his whole world.

But a part of you can’t help but think that he isn’t coming. You know it’s a lie, Simon would never leave you. Especially when you know he loves you.

You silently pray. And pray.

Until the grey fades away and the black of sleep takes over.

***

On the morning of the 17th day, you woke up to gunshots. You shivered. Gunshots always meant bad things. At least, that’s what Simon says.

You stand on shaky legs before getting down, sitting with your knees to your chest. Footsteps make their way closer to your room. Your anxiety skyrockets. The door flies open.

On instinct, you crawl backwards, in fear. A hand reaches out to you.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” you cry.

“’s me, lovie! ’s me! ’s okay! You’re okay…’s jus’ me. ’s me, lovie…”

You know that voice. You know that accent. You know that way of not pronouncing ‘t’s.

Simon.

You peer your eyes open, to be met with a skull mask looking back at you. Acting on instinct, you throw your arms around him, letting out a loud sob of relief. His arms tighten, holding your body against him. He strokes your hair softly.

“Prove it,” you whisper.

“Prove what, lovie?”

“Prove that you’re Simon…I can’t trust anyone right now…” you reply shakily. He nods, taking off his mask. “Si…” You shake your head. “Not enough…”

“You hate the smell of ketchup. You can’t stand vinegar in any of your food. You always light candles when you read. You forgive, but you never forget. You like chocolate and strawberry ice cream, but you can’t stand chocolate-covered strawberries. You love ‘The Rookie’, even though it’s inaccurate and it sucks. You need more?” he rambles.

You giggle softly through the tears in your eyes, curling into him once more.

“‘m here, ‘m here, I promise. ‘M not leavin’ you. Gonna take you home,” he smiles at you, still holding you against him. His eyes drift down to the bruises and the cuts and the dried blood on your arms. You notice his eyes, the soft glint in them gone, replaced by an angry look. He presses a finger into his ears. “Johnny, don’ spare any o’ them.”

You blink a few times to process his words but snuggle closer to him as he speaks to Johnny. He takes off his jacket, wrapping you in it. He holds you there for what seems like hours, though it’s merely 10 minutes. A sigh escapes his lips as he stands up, heading out of the room you’re both in. He keeps your head cradled against him, shielding you from the battle going on outside.

He takes you onto a jet, a military one, you recognize. He sets you down on a seat, sitting next to you, holding onto you. “Simon…” his name escapes your lips as a whisper, your eyes starting to close again.

“Keep ‘em open, please. Lovie, I need t’ know you're still conscious. Please, keep ‘em open,” his free hand caresses your face. “Just a little longer, I promise.”

“Trying,” you respond. He smiles, continuing to play with my hair. “Hey Si?”

“Hmm?” He hums.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, lovie.”

#ghost call of duty #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #ghost imagine #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff #ghost #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

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reidmania · 2 months ago

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sharpest tool | s.reid

(chapter four, motion sickness)

'I hate you for what you did and I miss you like a little kid. i faked it every time but that's alright. i can hardly feel anything, i hardly feel anything at all, I have emotional motion sickness somebody roll the windows down, there are no words in the english language, i could scream to drown you out'

summary; you never had someone make you feel safe enough to open up, until spencer. now trying to cope with his sudden absence you learn to lean on your new found friendship with his coworker, penelope.

warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad relationships, ghosting, commitment issues, self doubt & overthinking, preettyy angsty idk guys, no comfort yet but there is some fluff, and theres penelope & reader friendship!! reader lowkey shit talks spencer but he deserves it. reader is embarrassed & upset. reader is lowkey really mean, but shes coping guys. i think this is my favourite chapter out of all of them.

2.3k words

taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea a @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules

SERIES MASTERLIST

The lights are low, casting a soft, warm glow on the room, making it feel almost too cozy for the storm of emotions swirling inside of you. Penelope sits across from you on the other side of the coffee table, her vibrant personality seeming muted for once. She’s not wearing her usual bright colors, just a simple oversized shirt and pajama pants, the kind of clothes that scream comfort. It fits the night. It fits the conversation.

“You want to talk about it?” Penelope asks, voice gentle, but still full of that spark of energy that only she has. There’s no judgment there. Her eyes made you believe there never would be.

Your fingers tug absentmindedly at a loose thread on the hem of your sweatpants, the silence stretching between you like an invisible barrier. But it’s not an uncomfortable silence. Penelope doesn’t push. She doesn’t know you well enough to push. You’re not sure how to start, not sure how to talk about something you’re still struggling to process.

The night had consisted of making cookies, watching sickeningly sweet romance films you both gushed over — there were numerous times you had to stop your mind from drifting to Spencer, and when it did, you felt a sickening ache in your stomach. For the most part, besides those moments where the room fell quiet and your mind drifted, the night had been great.

“He just... stopped,” you whisper, voice barely audible, but Penelope catches it. Her eyes soften, and she leans forward slightly, offering silent encouragement for you to continue. "One day, Spencer was there, and the next... he wasn't. Theoretically of course..”

Spencer was different to anyone else you met, or at least he seemed that way. You thought he understood you. The way he listened, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way he made you feel like you could breathe around him. No one had ever done that for you before. But then, when things had started getting real—when you both were on the verge of making it official—he disappeared. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it was a commitment issue thing. Or if he really just had been playing with you the entire time.

“I don’t understand why,” you continue, the words tumbling out faster now, as if saying them out loud will make them make sense. “One day, we were close. He’d text me every morning. He’d ask how I was feeling, what I was doing. He made me feel… seen. Like he actually cared. And then, nothing. No calls, no messages. He just—”

“Ghosted you?” Penelope finishes for you, and the bluntness of the term hits you harder than you thought it would. You nod, feeling the sting of it all over again.

“He just disappeared,” you say, the words coming out harsh, jagged. You laugh bitterly, but there’s no humor in it. “Like I wasn’t even worth an explanation.”

Penelope’s hand reaches across the table, her fingers curling around yours in a comforting squeeze. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just lets you sit with the weight of your own pain. But her presence, her warmth, makes it feel a little less suffocating.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Spencer… he’s complicated. I don’t know why he did this to you, but I can tell you for sure, it’s not your fault. It never was.”

You close your eyes for a second, trying to swallow down the hurt, but it lingers there, a dull ache that refuses to fade. It’s not just about Spencer ghosting you; it’s about all the hope you had pinned on him. You thought he was different, thought he could be the person who made you feel safe in a way you had never felt before.

You couldn’t help the embarrassment you felt, all you had been thinking about for days was ‘how could i be so stupid.’ You had your guard up for a reason. You didn’t date for a reason, and the fact that you had let him let you forget that. You were so mad at yourself.

You missed Spencer more than you were willing to admit. Sleep evades you, and when it comes, it’s restless—haunted by the ghost of his touch. Your limbs grew weary, not from movement but from the effort of carrying the silence he left behind.

Your lips twitch into a bitter smile. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s on me. I was stupid for thinking it would be different.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Penelope says firmly, her voice suddenly fierce in a way that surprises you. “No. You were not stupid. You opened up because he made you feel like you could, and that’s on him, not you. He gave you the signals. He made the promises, and then he broke them. Spencer—he’s got his issues. He’s been through a lot, but that doesn’t excuse what he did to you. You deserved better.”

You pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as Penelope’s words sink in. It’s hard to believe that sometimes, that you deserved better. Spencer had made you feel like you could finally let your guard down, but in the end, it just made the hurt cut deeper. — Maybe thats all you’d ever deserve.

“He made me feel safe,” you admit, your voice breaking slightly. “Which i know sounds stupid— But— I don’t know.. I trusted him.”

“And then he took that away,” Penelope finishes, her voice softening again, filled with understanding. “It’s okay to be hurt. It’s okay to be angry. You opened up to him because you trusted him, and he didn’t treat that trust the way he should have.”

You nod, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay. You hadn’t wanted to cry tonight. You hadn’t wanted to break down. But being here with Penelope, his friend, his co-worker, who was so sweet and so understanding, it’s harder to keep everything bottled up.

“I just don’t get it,” you say, voice shaking. “Why would he make me feel like I mattered, like we were something, and then just leave?”

Penelope sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Spencer’s not great at dealing with his emotions,” she explains gently. “He’s always in his head, analyzing things, trying to make sense of the world. But feelings aren’t always logical. And sometimes… sometimes he runs from things he can’t control.”

You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “Well, he sure ran fast.”

Penelope gives you a sad smile, squeezing your hand again. “I know it doesn’t make it easier, but sometimes people can care about you and still hurt you. It doesn’t mean what you had wasn’t real. It just means he is an idiot.”

You stare down at your hands, the weight of her words settling on your shoulders. Maybe she’s right. Maybe Spencer did care about you in his own way, but that didn’t change the fact that he left you when you needed him most. It didn’t change the fact that you were still trying to pick up the pieces of your heart while he was nowhere to be found.

“I mean, he’s so damn smart, right? So.. So smart, always figuring things out. But apparently, figuring out how to treat people isn’t part of his skill set.”

Penelope chuckles softly, though there’s no real humor in it. “Yeah, sometimes Spencer’s great at solving every problem except the ones that really matter.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” you mutter, shaking your head. The frustration still courses through your veins, and you grip the fabric of your pants tightly, trying to channel it somewhere, anywhere. “I’m not going to sit around waiting for some half-assed explanation either. If he wanted to tell me why he bailed, he would have.”

She nodded her head. “He is dumb.” She said.

A laugh passed through your lips as you nodded quickly in agreement. “How is he so smart — and sweet yet such a fucking coward? I’m so pissed that he couldn’t even end things in person — that he didn’t even say anything.” You ran your hands down your face.

Penelope smiled. Maybe you were being mean in order to deflect from the hurt in your heart and the way your brain fizzled with an overwhelming ache for the comfort of Spencer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to ask him about it?” She asked.

You were quick to shake your head. While you were desperate for an answer of what you could have possibly done — you weren’t desperate enough to go through his friends to get an answer. You refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing you cared so much. “No. No- Please don’t— Does he even know we have been talking?” Penelope was quick to shake her head with a grin.

“Nope! I haven’t said anything to him.. I sent a photo to JJ earlier of your bobble head collection, but I highly doubt she would’ve just shown Spencer?” She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders slightly. The words made you frown, yet glad. You didn’t care about Penelope sharing your silly bobble head collection, it was something you were very proud of.

“I don’t really care if he knows. Is it bad I hope he is really mad? Like I hope he is really really pissed off about it. Is that petty?” You tumbled out the questions as your mind swirled. You hoped he was mad because at least then in some way maybe you could believe he cared.

“Yes. Definitely petty.” Penelope nodded, a playful smile on her face. “But— If anyone has a right to be petty, it’s you.. You’re handing this better than I would. i’d want to egg his house.” She shrugged, the words made a string of laughter leave your lips.

“I really really do want to” You said honestly, “maybe then he would have to say something” It was silly, but it would lie to say the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. It was childish, and immature and so petty, but leaving someone with no explanation was also just as childish and immature so in your head, it evened out.

“I reckon he would start crying” Penelope giggled.

“God I hope so.” you huffed out, running your hands through your hair before a small smile made way onto your lips as you looked up at the blonde women. The last thing you expected was to get along so quickly with the girl. You had expected it to be awkward between the two of you, but it wasn’t. You two spent hours watching silly chick-flics and laughing, before this conversation even started.

“Thank you- by the way. For this” you mumbled, referring to her just being there. She didn’t have to. She didn’t know you, she didn’t owe you anything, she was Spencer’s friend, not yours.

Penelope grinned widely, “Don’t thank me. I love boy genius but he can be such a tool sometimes without even realising it. He fucked up and you need somebody, plus who else would make sugar cookies with me?” She teased.

You curled up by Penelope’s side, smiling at her gently. You really were grateful. “Speaking of sugar cookies, do you think we could frost them yet?”

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sunkeji · 11 months ago

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Scenarios of Ace and Deuce being your bffs who both have a crush on you

a/n: forgot to post,my bad!

tags: mentions of reader wearing a skirt in the 3rd section; lmk if I missed anything.

synopsis: Daily scenarios of Ace and Deuce being your bffs and them both having a crush on you

when you, Ace, Deuce and Grim get punished and tasked to clean the animal enclosure; specifically the hedgehogs, the first 15 minutes are spent actually doing your jobs and then you all collectively get distracted by each other.

Deuce has the brilliant idea to make bets on the hedgehogs and you all immediately agree except the hedgehogs scatter in different directions. In the end, a ridiculous debate ensues on whose hedgehog would have potentially, won the race

***

If you guys have a considerably long break between lessons, the four of you would head back to Ramshackle to play whatever card or board games are available with the ghosts.

quite a handful of times you guys lose track of time and have to fly back to the mirror (literally), through the halls (and hoping you don't get caught) and into the classroom.

Your positions on the broom are predetermined as follows: Deuce Infront, you in the middle with Grim on your lap and Ace behind you. Deuce gets to drive(?) because he has more experience in driving recklessly but safely...

Deuce was initially a bit shy because you're holding onto him but after a few more occurrences of the same thing, he got used to it. The giddy feeling he gets whenever you wrap your hands around his waist and the warmth emanating from your body never goes away though.

Grim is just happy because some type of chaos is going on and he gets to keep warm being sandwiched between you and Deuce. If you ever lean your body forward onto Deuce's, he might start feeling faint and lose his concentration on flying.

Ace is absolutely having the time of his life behind you because he gets to HOLD YOU. And if Deuce isn't driving steady enough, he has more of an excuse to hold you tighter. He would also try his luck each time and see how far he can go. Would you allow him to lean on you completely? Rest his head on your shoulder? The possibilities are endless.

***

Whenever the Aduece duo are hanging out in your room and are left unsupervised for too long, they'd either enable each other into doing stupid shit or start bickering. In this case, it's the former scenario.

You left them to their own devices while you went back to the classroom to get one of the books you needed to complete a homework assignment.

Usually they'd want to follow you because hey, you get to spend more time with the person you like, What more could you want?

But since the person they like doesn't originate from the same region, better yet same dimension; what better way to learn more about your crush then to snoop around their room?

So they do snoop around and after looking through your personal belongings on the shelves and drawers, they move on to your wardrobe.

Out of sheer curiosity, Ace opens your wardrobe and finds your clothes. His eyes straight away land on the skirts that are hanged neatly and immediately has a brilliant idea.

By the time you get back to Ramshackle and open the door, you're rendered speechless by what you're seeing. Both Ace and Deuce are wearing your skirts and are taking mirror selfies all while posing in cute positions.

The image you see before you is truly baffling that you still hadn't moved; seeing this, Ace flips his phone to you and takes a picture of your shocked expression. Definitely posts everything on magicam (idk how to spell it)

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #heartslaybul x reader #ace trapolla x reader #ace x reader #deuce spade x reader #deuce x reader #deuce x yuu #ace x yuu #twsited wonderland #twst ace #twst deuce #heartslabyul #x reader #deuce spade #ace trappola

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yawnderu · 11 months ago

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i scroll through your page every day like it’s my freaking newspaper omg thank you for all the bimbo!reader content 😭😭🥰

this is kind of going off of your post of reader pampering simon and johnny calling him a pretty boy lol

idk if you’ve ever heard of the boyfriend effect? it’s like this silly (but true) theory that men go through a glow up when getting into a relationship 😅😅

but i def see that in simon. like after getting with reader, he’s taking more pride in his appearance. his muscles aren’t just to keep him at the top of his job but he loves the way you drool over them. or he’s like taken to grooming his facial hair or he’s cleaning up his eyebrows, making sure his nails are clean, he’s stepped up his cologne game 🫠🫠

he just appreciates how much work reader puts into her appearance and finds her so beautiful, he wants to be up to her standards and feel like he’s worthy of being with her 🥺🥺

YES ABSOLUTELY!!

Simon was never one to worry much about his appearance, just wearing military-issued clothes and other random things he bought when he wasn't deployed. It's mentioned that he also didn't even know what skincare was before meeting her and this man used to wash his face with only water or body wash 😭 but once she starts getting him introduced to all those things and she starts doing his skincare?? Simon Riley, the man that you are.

He's seen you spend over an hour doing your skincare and always making sure your presentation looks good before going out, spending a lot of time doing your makeup, hair, nails and planning outfits, and he starts truly believing that he has to look good for you as well.

He starts to trim his nails more and clean them up well, sometimes even asking you for help or accepting to go get a manicure with you so the callouses in his hands get better and he can have soft hands to hold and touch you. He'd never admit it, but he spent a long time at different stores trying to pick a body wash and cologne that smells pleasant so he can always smell nice when he's out with you.

He starts to shave his face more often, using an aftershave with a pleasant, masculine smell. He tries his best to shower before coming back home to you, and if he's not able to, the first thing he does is suggest that you both take a shower together, secretly proud to see your surprised face at how many things he uses now to clean his body compared to the tiny bar of cheap soap that he used when you first met.

Sure, his muscles make him a more intimidating figure in the battlefield and help him be at the top, but he's never felt more grateful for them than when you're tying a bow on his arm and making him flex just to see it unwrap. He absolutely loves how you worship his body and having your long, pretty nails run over his muscles when you touch him, squeezing his muscles and drooling over them and how cool he looks.

He wants to keep up with you— you're a very pretty girl who puts a lot of effort into your appearance, and he wants to do the same, wanting to look worthy of being with you even when in your eyes, he was fully worthy of it even before he changed.

I also believe that bimbo!reader had the idea to plan his Senpai Ghost outfit HBJEFJHFEHJBFE

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

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lxvvie · 1 year ago

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whenever i think of lil domestic life blurbs the first thing i think is "hmm i wonder what lxvvie would write about this" LOL (can u tell i love u and ur writing!! <3)

for instance: imagine the cod characters trying desperately for you to finally claim one of their shirts as ur own sleep shirt. but like, you've worn the same thrifted oversized shirt every night since college, and tbh you really don't want to change up your routine now, and yeah, a strangers random shirt is actually more comfortable than yours, thank you very much

cue chaos. also idk who this would fit but i feel like one of them would be like don't wanna wear my shirt to sleep? fine and then proceed to replace every article of clothing in your closet, except for that sleep shirt, with one of their own. what!!! technically they listened to you!!!

I can see it going a lil' something like this (it might deviate some from your ask so forgive me! 😭):

Price would be a bit subtler than the rest. A comment or suggestion is given here or there because if it's comfort you're looking for, his shirts are where it's at.

Gaz is the one who outright tells you that he wants you in his shirt. Like... right now.

Soap leaves his shirts lying around with the express purpose of you putting them on. If you were to ask him to grab a shirt for you from the laundry room, best believe he will come back with his shirt for you to wear.

Ghost tells you that he can't sleep at night because your shirt feels "rough against his skin" 🙄. You call bullshit because his shirts have the same exact texture, and he calls bullshit to your bullshit because they absolutely do not. You can't help but wonder if there's some credibility to his words, though, because when you sleep in his shirt one night, he's out like a light.

Keller is the one who's like, "Got something for ya, Boss," and he tosses you his shirt and you're confused. "Alex, this is yours," and he shrugs and is all, "Not for long, I hope."

Alejandro wouldn't necessarily feel some kind of way about you wearing the shirt but if, for instance, it was from an ex? He'll envision burning it. In the meantime in-between time, wear his shirt.

Rudy tells you that he loves it when you wear his shirts because it feels good knowing a piece of him is still with you when he's away and that's all the more reason for you to wear them.

Horangi just wants his scent on you because he's claiming what's his.

König thinks it's absolutely adorable the way his shirts fit like freaking blankets on you. Then there was that one time you put on a shirt that he uses when he's away on assignment...

Graves doesn't really care... unless he's away. When he's home, he'd rather you sleep naked. For reasons. Reasons that involve horizontal dancing.

Keegan would just silently hand you his shirt, unwavering stare and all.

Roach's approach is similar to Rudy but he'd oh-so-politely ask, "Please...?"

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tiktowafel · 5 months ago

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some 1b girl lineups so i can have all my little personal designs in one place :3 slightly inconsistent bc i drew them separately at first but fuck it we ball

no clothes versions that i made for myself to use as templates (yknow so i can draw clothes on top of them without having to draw them over and over again) and showcase my general appearance headcanons

how i think they like to wear their uniforms (looking at bakugo, UA seems pretty liberal about it so i get to have fun lol). obviously what they wear depends mostly on the weather but these are meant to be like,, their favorite combinations?

i really like the "long sleeve shirt with no blazer" look. kind of a shame no one in bnha seems to wear their uniform like this

the most important part!! the costumes!! putting the notes under the cut bc they ended up kinda long

i like Reiko's canon costume a lot, i just decided to give her fingerless gloves and make her kimono long and tattered for the spooky vibes. i used to also draw it with a reversed (right over left) collar bc that's how they dress dead people and Reiko's meant to have this ghost aesthetic but decided against it this time because maybe it's more culturally inappropriate than i think?? idk its not that big of a visual change so i'd rather play it safe

Setsuna is wearing my own costume design that i explained fully in an older post. i still like it, i just gave her spike bands on her legs instead of the same thing she wears on her forearms bc i decided i dont vibe with the total limb symmetry anymore lol

i spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to think up a redesign for Kendo only to settle for her canon costume with extra bandages/cloth wraps (theyre cool) and ordinary combat boots instead of the ones she wears in canon (i just don't vibe with them). i guess sometimes less is more or whatever

Pony is wearing @doodlegraveyard's awesome redesign :) pastel cowgirl swag

Ibara's design is by m0chicakes, i still think its amazing

Yui's costume also takes a lot from doodlegraveyard's design, i just decided to try blue as her accessory color to distinguish her color palette from my Momo design

Kinoko's canon costume is just *chefs kiss* so the only thing i changed was the color of her shoes. her sleeves are short here bc i thought it could look cute for a summer version of her costume, the winter version keeps the long fluffy sleeves. her spray guns were pissing me off so i decided not to draw them but trust me they're here in spirit

i might post winter edits for some of these later :)

edit: posted in a reblog!!

#bnha #class 1b #reiko yanagi #setsuna tokage #itsuka kendo #pony tsunotori #ibara shiozaki #yui kodai #kinoko komori #bnha redesign #tikto's art #okay smiley face time OVER complaining time is NOW #i do like it enough to post but i am less than happy with how some of this stuff turned out if i gotta be honest #ponys pastel ass linework colors. everyones feet and shoes. kinoko's chicken legs. honestly kinoko in general #im sorry girl i couldnt do you justice but i redrew you like 3 times and still wasn't happy so i had to settle with what i had TwT

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envy-of-the-apple · 6 months ago

Note

ok i like the idea of reader going to shoko thinking she’s normal physician (not knowing she only works for sorcerers) and asks for a checkup. one thing leads to another and reader has to continue meeting her for ‘check-up’s’ frequently…..

how does it feel to be the smartest person in the room bestie????

@mynahx3 hiiiiiiiiii<3

Trust the Professionals

Dark!Ieiri Shoko x reader

Synopsis: Doctor Ieiri has a new treatment she’s eager to try on you

Word count: 2.2k

(Warnings: Dubcon/noncon, manipulation, vaginal fingering, dark content, mc's kinda dumb, self-gaslighting lmaooo, hospital kink? im pretty sure this is some type of kink but idk whats its called)

For the longest time, you never really believed in ghosts.

You weren't really the religious type. You went to church every so often, but you weren't invested. It's why it took you a while to get around to the idea that spirits were real, and one was particularly attached to you.

Luckily, the Shamans always seemed happy to help.

"It's back again, huh?" Doctor Ieiri asked.

You nodded, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. She doesn't look like a Shaman. You were expecting more bells and bracelets. Traditional clothing. Doctor Ieiri was always dressed in a labcoat, professional makeup that did little to cover lack of sleep. She looks like she just fell out of a hospital drama.

Despite her looks, you knew she was pretty good at her job. She was the only person who'd gotten rid of your spirit problem. At least, for a little while.

You don't know what she meant exactly, but the spirit ("Cursed spirit," she corrected one too many times) was a replicator. It needed to be exorcised multiple times to fully disappear. This has been your third visit so far.

You watched as her eyes followed something right above your head. She hummed, leaning forward on the desk, tapping her perfectly manicured fingers.

"That's strange," she murmurs, "usually, by the third, it's gone."

You wilt at that. A part of you feels guilty for taking so much of the Doctor's time. All of the appointments so far had been free, but you wouldn't blame her if she started asking for payment, or if she turned you away completely.

She straightens her back.

"Clearly, regular exorcisms aren't working." She states the obvious. "So far, they've just been a temporary fix. There's one more thing we could try but..."

For the first time since you've seen her, Doctor Ieiri hesitates. You look at her.

"Not many prefer this procedure." She explains. "It's a little...unorthodox."

Her reluctance should give you a warning, but you've already spent days putting off this appointment, willing for your cursed problem to go away, spending hours tossing and turning in bed, feeling something crawling up your back with too many legs and too many teeth.

"Anything." You say. "Anything to make this go away."

There's a glint in her eye. Something not quite a smile tugs on her face before it's gone. She stands up, prompting you to do the same. In her hands is a neatly folded hospital gown.

"You can put your clothes over there." She mentions to a chair. "Including your undergarments, please."

She must notice your discomfort because her tone becomes less clinical.

"We can stop whenever you want." She tells you. "But stopping in the middle is typically discouraged. Curses are pretty fickle."

You nod. "Okay, Doctor."

"Please, just call me Shoko." She gives a tired smile. "I want you to be as comfortable as possible for this."

You don't feel comfortable calling her by her given name, but Ieir-Shoko looks so pleased when you let her name reluctantly leave your lips, and you feel too bad to retort.

She steps out of the room shortly after handing you the gown. You put your clothes on the chair, she pointed out. When Shoko knocks, you're already seated on the examination table, swathed in the the thin fabric.

"You follow directions well." She's wearing a surgical mask now but looks satisfied with your compliance. You give a shy smile.

"Let's start with a general overlook for now." She says. "It'd be helpful if we can pinpoint where the curse originated."

You nod, but you can't push away the nervousness as Shoko gently pushes past the fabric. She's wearing gloves, but the rubber is a flimsy barrier to her warm fingers. Her hands brush past your clavicle, and the plastic gown easily yields for her touch. You gasp when she touches your tits, fingers lightly brushing over the nipple. The room is so cold. You're so sensitive. You stiffen against her touch.

She notices, pulling back to see your face. "Something wrong?"

"Uh, no." You smile, but it feels watery. "Just nerves." You can't read her expression. The mask hides everything.

She hums, and you're grateful she doesn't comment on how jittery you are. You hold in your reaction when she lightly presses on your breast. Her thumb flicks over your nipple again. You'd call it sensual if you weren't thoroughly convinced that Shoko was a professional and you were the weird one here.

She pulls away eventually, and you sag in relief. It was over. You don't think you could do that again.

"It's not coming from your upper body." Shoko murmurs. "Would you mind if I untied your gown? It'll be better if I can see everything."

You hesitate, unsure, but Shoko's previous words make your rejection waver. Curses are fickle creatures. In the end, you let her unwrap the gown.

There's no real point to it now. You're fully displayed on the examination table, legs spread, leaning back on your hands. It's embarrassing. You can feel yourself heat up at how exposed you are, especially considering Shoko is still wearing her lab coat and that mask.

But Shoko says nothing about it. Right, she's a professional. Instead, she starts pulling off her gloves.

"I'll be able to locate the cursed location more effectively without a barrier." She explains and you nod along.

She starts with your foot, gently squeezing your foot. It feels nice, like a massage. You languish in the touch, only getting concerned when her prodding starts going up her calf.

Shoko rubs circles along your inner calf. Something wells within you, but you're pushing it down because Shoko is a professional. Instead, you lift yourself off the table just to feel more in control.

"Not here either," Shoko murmurs to herself. "Maybe I need to go a little deeper."

Your eyes widen when she rests a single finger at the entrance of your pussy.

"Doctor, I—I don't think that's—" with one motion, she buries her finger inside you.

You're already shamefully wet. Your walls are already clenching down her nimble finger. You can't help it, you shudder, giving out a breathy whine.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" For some reason, you can hear a smile in Shoko's voice as she starts pumping her finger in and out of your sopping pussy. "You can talk. I'm great at multitasking."

"I—I was just saying��saying Doctor, you—" Her finger curls, and you are interrupted by another moan.

"Shoko." She reminds you her voice firm and calm and a total juxtaposition to the way her thumb is circling over your sensitive clit. "I want you to stay calm and relaxed throughout this procedure, okay?"

"Shoko." You keen and you're sure her breath hitches but your brain is numb and she's still wearing that mask. "This—This just feels a—a bit strange and I—"

She coos in sympathy. "It's all part of the process. Just relax, okay? You're doing so well for me."

At this point, you're leaning back on your elbows. The new angle jolts pleasure up and down your spine. It gets even worse when Shoko adds a second finger, stretching your sensitive walls out even further.

"I think the curse is getting closer. We're almost there." Her voice is soft and breathy in your ear and you can hardly understand that she's taken off her mask. "Just a little more. Just a bit further. So so good for me. You're doing so well, baby."

Your orgasm hits you like a train. All at once, you seize up on her fingers, your thighs squeezing together and your moan resembles more of a scream than anything human. Shoko keeps going as the orgasm smashes your broken body like grass.

She stops when you give one last shudder before collapsing onto the examination table. You lie there, breasts heaving, eyes glazed. You're so far out of it that you don't even notice the way she licks her wet fingers.

It takes a few seconds for you to gather your bearings. When you do, you're mortified. You shoot up from the table, covering yourself up with the flimsy gown, ready to apologize when Shoko asks:

"How do you feel?"

It's such an innocent question. It takes you off-guard. Sensitive, is your first answer, but then you think some more and you realize that you can't really feel the dread or the weight on your shoulders anymore.

"You...exorcised it?" No, this felt different from the last two exorcisms she performed on you. Now, you feel five years younger.

She grins, pleased.

"Yes. I found the origin point." She explains. "Even if it ever comes back, it'll be smaller and easier to deal with."

You nod, still recovering from your high as you roll your shoulder. Everything feels so good.

"Wow," you say, "I—thank you! Thank you so much!"

She pulls back, accepting your gratitude with a soft expression.

"We're done for today." She tells you at last. "You're free to put on your clothes. Can't imagine that gown is very comfortable."

You wait for her to leave. She doesn't, sitting back behind her desk, typing away at her computer. There's no real point of you having privacy, is there? After all, you basically just showed her everything.

Still, when you go to put on your clothes, you can feel eyes on you, trailing down your body, your ass. It isn't Shoko. She's always busy with her keyboard, diligent as always. You were feeling things.

One garment was missing, however. As discreetly as you could, you searched around for it, glancing at the floor, underneath the chair. You swore you left it with the other clothes. How could it just disappear?

"Something wrong?"

Shoko's peering up at you, head tilted. You open your mouth. But then you decide they aren't worth the further embarrassment.

"Nothing." You give a nervous grin. "Just nothing."

Shoko can still taste you when Satoru visits her hours after your appointment.

"Get out," she says. Satoru just grins, shutting the door behind him. It was worth a shot.

"I see your favorite little patient had another check-up," he says, "still haven't disclosed we aren't exactly in the personal exorcism business, have ya'?"

Shoko shrugs. "It's a personal project. Don't worry about it."

"Right, you say that buuuuut 'can't help but notice that our lovely non-sorcerer still has a curse swimming around—"Satoru clicks his tongue. "—It's fourth grade, too. This deskwork is making you go soft, Shoko. Maybe I should start dragging you out to missions."

"Did you exorcise it?" Ugh, that would be a pain. Shoko spent so long cultivating that curse to work in her favor.

Gojo grins. "Nah."

"A residual curse." Satoru continues. "Harmless, but pesky enough to be noticed if it isn't dealt with in a couple days. Smart."

By Saturday, to be more exact. Shoko has already cleared her schedule. She can already hear your voice crackling through the phone, sweetly apologizing for such short notice, but would it be possible to book an appointment? She won't tell you that, nor will she tell Satoru. Though, she has a feeling the bastard already knows.

Said bastard is rifling through her drawers. She frowns when he pulls out your panties.

"Aw, these are so cute!" Satoru gushes, shamefully twirling the fabric on his finger. "Are you starting a collection? This some kind of trophy? Hey, I don't judge."

"It's wrong to take things without permission," Shoko says.

"I should be telling you that." Satoru grins. "Y'know, our precious non-sorcerer is kinda' cute. Maybe I should pay a visit—"

Shoko bolts up from her chair. She stares at him. Gojo stops playing with the frills. He's still smiling.

"Easy, easy." He says, but he hands her the fabric anyway. "Damn, I had a feeling, but you're whipped for this one, are n'tcha? Do I hear wedding bells?"

She rolls her eyes. "Get out."

He obliges with a snicker, proving that he only came to mess with her. What did she expect? With a sigh, she collapses back onto her seat.

She dangles your panties in one hand. She refuses to sniff them again, even though your taste and your smell are still swirling around in her head. They must have looked so cute on you. Next time, she'll put cameras in the room, just so she can have a playback of you shyly shucking off your clothes before compliantly slipping on the gown. She wouldn't know what would be more tantalizing to watch; the show or your utter obedience.

Satoru was, unfortunately, right. Shoko was crazy for you, even though you clearly didn't carry the same feelings. That's okay. In this line of work, Shoko knows she has to take what she wants, that letting her desires go is for those like Satoru.

So Shoko will lie and coax and manipulate until you're seated pliantly in her grasp. And maybe if Satoru behaves, he'll get a wedding invite.

And if you still don't yield...well, there's always plan B.

#the B stands for aBduction btw #yandere #yandere jjk #dark jjk #x reader #Dark Ieiri shoko x reader #Yandere ieiri shoko x reader #Yandere Ieiri Shoko #how much malpractice is in this? yes #tw:dubcon #dark content #manipulation #Dark Ieiri Shoko

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tempting-andromeda · 1 year ago

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I missed my boys so I’m back at headcanons

Misc headcanons

Characters: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Charles Smith, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Sunmers, Kieran Duffy, Micah Bell, Eagle Flies

Arthur Morgan

Super awkward about gift giving but he loves giving you little trinkets from his adventures. Like a small flower or a pretty Little Rock

He’s just like “here” drops it in your hand and then stands there awkwardly

Doesn’t hide his facial expressions as well as he thinks he does.

He loves to gossip. If you tell him something juicy he acts like he doesn’t care but he’ll drop something even crazier with a smirk

Reluctantly tells you about his adventures but he just doesn’t want to brag

John Marston

Every time he asks for you to bathe with him it ends up with him getting a scrub down instead of getting headed (he doesn’t know why he expects anything else anymore)

Thinks burps are peak comedy.

He likes when you ask his opinion about things even though he’ll bullshit his way through

Like a purple or blue shirt? Hmm it’s cold so wear the blue one because blue is for cold.

Accidentally shows his buttcrack a lot. His pants just never sit on his hips right and I just…I can feel it.

Dutch Van Der Linde

He likes dates where you two go out into Saint Denis and pretend to be someone else for the night.

Likes picking out your outfits for you. He finds it romantic.

Has a thing for helping you tie or buckle your shoes

Always thinks the smallest knees is the biggest news or the other way around

Tries to dance with you in the most random of moments. Like you’re a little pissed about something and he’ll come up to you and just start swaying

Charles Smith

Cannot stand when people share food by sucking on peoples fingers. Like when people dip their finger into the cake batter and share it.

Has the most obvious side eye ever. He simply cannot hide it.

Favorite cuddling position is where you lay on top of him

He doesn’t drink much but when he does he’s a completely different person.

Will bluntly ask you a weird question like “what alcohol do you think would be your horse’s favorite”

Javier Escuella

Likes lipstick marks. Thinks it’s one of the most attractive things ever. Has a shirt where you left a lipstick stain on the collar

Says the sassiest shit under his breath 5 minutes after it’s relevant and gets pissed

Rehearses a conversation in his head before he has it

Makes you learn Spanish for “code words” but reallt he just wants to teach you Spanish

Has a habit of repeating words just for himself outside of conversations

Sean MacGuire

He thinks he’s the suavest mother fucker around. He will randomly share how he pulled you to random people

Makes the worst inside jokes he’ll never drop

Loves to spin you around randomly. He doesn’t care if you hate it.

Keeps food in his pockets (sometimes wrapped in cloth) and doesn’t see a problem with it

Thinks cringy pet names are the best like “snugglemuffin”

Lenny Summers

One of his favorite dates are leisurely strolls

He liked when you help him get dressed. Like help him with his vest

Idk why I think he has like the same idea as romance as those really happy old people

Likes when you keep him company while he’s patrolling

Loves cheek kisses! One of his favorite things ever!

Kieran Duffy

He likes to join you if you have a self care routine.

Likes to share things with you. Like some food or his clothes.

Makes the most out there “what ifs” or “would you rather” questions

Just casually knows how to do decent hairstyles because he got bored while working with the horses.

Wakes up too easily. At the smallest thing. You could twitch and he’s stirring awake

Micah Bell

Thinks it’s funny to ghost you. He always says stuff like “distance makes the heart grow fonder”

Really good at catching flies and mosquitoes

Will prompt the weirdest shit as if it’s normal just to fuck with you

Will give you the meanest compliments like “I hate inbreds…not you though” because he thinks it’s charming AND funny

Randomly gives you a good shove every now and then

Eagle flies

He absolutely loves getting a rise out of you like sometimes he does something stupid just for you to scold him

Affectionally bites. At first it was a joke but now he just casually does it. He’ll grab your hand and pressed a light bite to your wrist

Gets comfortable in the weirdest positions. Even while cuddling.

Talks about your future with him way too soon.

He thinks it’s funny to randomly “propose” to you

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avonne-writes · 1 month ago

Note

do you think you could do #8 “Who did this to you?” From your reblog. Maybe like In the stalag when Bucky shows up and goes to give Gale a hug but Gale flinches away. Bucky is immediately worried and try’s to get Gale to spill but it doesn’t work. Blah blah blah, Bucky might see Gale interact with a guard and understands why. Idk take it your own way if you want 😅

Thank you for the prompt! 💕 Sorry for only getting to it now. I went with a different take, but I hope you like it!

8. Who did this to you?

After stumbling inside their quarters at Thorpe, Bucky tries to make his way to his bed blindly in the dark. He counts his steps to measure a distance he knows well by now, but the haze of booze makes his brain sluggish, and the numbers get all jumbled up. Nevertheless, he finds the frame of his cot, locates it with fumbling hands, and lets himself sink down on the mattress with a relieved sigh.

Except, it’s not his cot.

He lands on something simultaneously soft and bony, and gets kneed in the ribs so hard for it that he falls on his ass. Groaning, he gives in to gravity and goes limp on the floor.

"John?" Gale whispers somewhere above him. When Bucky grunts in response, one of their other roommates hisses a shut up their way. "What are you doing?"

"Sleeping." Bucky replies. He feels rather comfortable where he is. At least the room isn’t spinning. Down here, nothing wants to crawl back out of his stomach to show him exactly how much whiskey he poured down his throat to wipe their last mission from his memory.

Slim, warm hands pat at Bucky's chest, trying to locate his shoulders in the dark. When they find a good place to grip and try to pull Bucky up, Bucky turns his head and nips at Gale’s wrist.

"Come on, you big loony." Gale murmurs, completely ignoring the fact that Bucky's mouth is full of the cotton of his shirt. His teeth dig into Gale's arm. Out of curiosity, Bucky bites down harder, until Gale yanks his arm away with an annoyed huff.

"Son of a bitch." He swears under his breath, but a moment later, his hands return. They hook under Bucky's armpits to pull him up by force. "Up. On your feet, Major."

"Don’t want to." Bucky whines.

As soon as Gale gets him vertical, he starts moving to lie right back down, and finds the bed Gale has just vacated. It’s still warm from Gale’s body. He sinks into that heat with a smile, squirming until the dip Gale's body left in the mattress fits his own. Like coming home. His drunken mind imagines it would be just as comforting to climb inside Gale's body. To be one with him. Always welcome, always safe.

"All right." Gale's tired exhale brushes Bucky's ear as Gale leans over him and tugs the blanket out from under his body to drape it over him. Tucking him in like his mama would've. Or a wife.

"Should've left me on the floor." Bucky sniffs. The urge to cry makes his throat tight, but he holds it back. He’s a man, damn it.

"What kind of best friend would that make me, huh?" Gale murmurs softly. He’s so close still. His hands are on Bucky’s back and arm. He should lean in for a goodnight kiss, Bucky thinks. "Go to sleep, Bucky."

"'S your bed."

"You can borrow it tonight."

Fingers run through Bucky’s curls, a ghost of a touch, then there's nothing. Bucky turns his head into Gale's pillow because it smells like him. He falls asleep in a minute.

Morning arrives with a dull, heavy pain behind Bucky's eyes that he welcomes like an old friend. Most fellas get cranky when they're hungover, but it just makes Bucky feel alive. It seems as if fewer and fewer things do. Drinking. Singing, dancing, flirting. Gale.

Speaking of - Bucky should find him. Yes, that sounds like the perfect hangover cure. Getting teased by his best friend.

Still fully-clothed and wearing his boots, Bucky climbs out of bed - Gale's bed, he notes, sifting through his blurry memories from last night and coming up blank when he tries to explain it. He figures he might have tried to get in beside Gale, who thought it was better to just surrender his cot. Bucky ought'a thank him for not kicking him out to sleep on the floor.

He finds Gale by the small sink they all share, just finishing up with shaving. He’s stripped down to his undershirt and his hair is not yet slicked back with product but falls over his forehead in soft bangs. It makes him look younger. Pretty, even, if Bucky were being honest. He tries not to be though. Wouldn’t do him any good.

Grinning with all his charm, he walks up to Gale and leans on the wall beside him, his free hand in his pocket. "Hey, Buck."

"Morning." Gale says without looking away from the mirror, but there’s a small smile in the corner of his lips as he slides the blade over his skin.

Bucky has the strangest urge to offer to do the last few swipes for him. "Thanks for the bed."

"You’re welcome." Gale's voice is amused. Although there's a shadow of exhaustion under his eyes, he looks happy, so Bucky feels safe to joke around a bit.

When Gale rinses the blade and starts wiping his face, Bucky nudges him with his foot. In return, Gale flicks water at him, which tickles Bucky into a short laugh. For the first time this morning, Gale's blue eyes meet his and give him a playful look.

"You look like that chow they used to feed us back in Texas." There it is. The teasing.

Bucky grins. "Delicious, you mean?"

For a moment that steals Bucky's breath away, Gale just holds his gaze, but then he turns back to the mirror to comb his hair. "Not the word I'd use."

That's when Bucky notices the bruise on Gale’s forearm. Without thinking, he grabs Gale's hand and pulls it closer to get a better look at the mark. It’s circular, red and purpling in some places, about the width of a set of teeth. A bite mark. When Bucky brushes his thumb over it, Gale’s fingers twitch in his hold.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" Bucky asks with a frown. His protective anger rises behind the wall of confusion in his mind. It’s a fresh bruise, can't be more than a day old. Did Gale get up to something while Bucky was at the pub yesterday?

Gale uses his free hand to hike his trousers higher up his slim waist, shifting in place, but he doesn’t move the hand Bucky's holding to examine the bruise. He just stares at it, cheeks pinking. He’s standing close enough that all Bucky can smell is his aftershave, fresh on his smooth face.

"I reckon it was one of those bed-stealing fellas around here." He drawls.

Bucky swipes his thumb over the mark again distractedly before realization hits him.

"Did I do this?" He asks, horrified. When Gale hums yes, it’s like a rock of guilt falling right on Bucky’s heart. He lets go of Gale's hand and rubs his palm over his own face. His hangover swells into a wave of nausea he swallows back down. "Shit. I'm sorry, Buck. Can’t even remember."

"It was good whiskey, huh?" Gale smiles and picks up the towel he wiped his face with earlier. When Bucky gives him an apologetic look, he swats at him with it. "It’s fine, John."

A memory hits Bucky like a bucketful of ice. Back in flight school, on one of their first longer leaves, Gale actually went home to see his Ma in Wyoming because she was bedridden with a chest cold, and they feared she might pass. She made it through, but for what good, Bucky isn't sure, because Gale rarely ever writes her and hasn’t been to Casper since.

But that one time, he visited his parents. Bucky won't forget how it went anytime soon. The first day Gale came back to base, he was sporting a fading shiner on his right cheek. Dark blue pain under pale skin. He clammed up about how he got it, but Bucky prodded, kept asking the same question, who did this to you? Until Gale confessed that he had a fight with his father. The man was drunk. But it's fine, John, Gale told him, pursing his lips. Nothing that won't heal.

Discomfort ripples through Bucky, bitter on his tongue and heavy in his heart. Gale's smiling now, unlike that day in flight school, but there are too many similarities. Bucky has to, he needs to make it better.

"I didn’t mean to hurt you." He says sincerely.

"I know." Gale nods.

Bucky bites his lip. He can’t think of anything else to make it clearer that he’s nothing like Gale's bastard of a father. There’s so little he can give. He has nothing to offer but his company. "Let me make it up to you. Come to London with me. We could both use a break. Let's go paint the town red."

The tip of Gale's pink tongue pokes out between his lips for a second as he considers it. Instinctively, Bucky's gaze drops to the motion before he looks back to Gale's eyes again. "I don't know about that."

There's a wariness in his voice that wasn’t there before. Bucky hates it. He doesn’t know what put it there, but he wants it gone. He claps a hand on Gale's elbow and gives him a friendly squeeze. "Come on. We can go look at all the sights you wanna see, then I'll take you to a pub and buy you the best ginger beer you've ever had."

Gale gives him a lopsided smile. "Is that a bet?"

Bucky smirks. "A promise." He moves to take Gale's place at the sink, but Gale doesn’t step back immediately, which puts their faces so close to each other that for a split second, Bucky imagines crossing the remaining distance. "Tell you what. We could even split the hotel costs."

A fond light shines in Gale's eyes. He steps away with a chuckle and throws the towel at Bucky. "Go wash your face, Egan."

Grinning, Bucky opens the tap and does just that. That wasn’t a no, he notes. Excitement tingles in his limbs. His blood pumps warm joy through his body with every heartbeat. He has never felt more alive than this, but he wonders if he could. And if yes... would London do the trick?

#mota #buck x bucky #gale cleven #john egan #clegan #my writing #prompt fill

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whaleofatjme1920 · 1 year ago

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Task Force 141 with a Small/Flat Chested Reader

[Task Force 141 x F!Reader]

[Warnings: I mean, I talk about tits what more can you expect? It's pretty NSFW, so MINORS GET OUT.]

[AN: iykyk, yk? Anyways. Love the IBTC just bc I think that's cute and I'm in a mood to show this community love <3]

Reblogs are appreciated!

Captain John Price

I think he has a slight size kink, not too big but small tits play into it. Yes ofc he loves all tits but small tits just look so lovely to him. If you wear any bras or whatever, he's staring for the outline. The same thing if you don't wear anything, he might catch a glimpse of your nipples poking through and he likes that. Won't outright say it though.

Loves whenever you wear low necklines, like v necks, scoops, things that show off your chest.

If you wear long necklaces that dip in between? ohohoh. He can't help but stare and whisper the dirtiest things in your ear.

I think he really liked to hug you from behind and playfully rub his hands upwards from your stomach to your chest.

Isn't it cute how his whole hand can envelop them? He really likes to grope you. Especially laying in bed and he spoons you, hands come up? Boom, gotta grab the titty.

Absolutely feral over them. Any insecurities get washed away by how much he wants to touch you and how he compliments you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

I feel like he's a huge thigh guy but your tits are pretty hot to him. Thinks they're super elegant with the way they fit in certain clothes.

He stares. He cannot stop staring. He's feel his face heat whenever you catch him and he covers it in the dorkiest ways possible.

Idk I feel like he's really,,,, silly? With the way he loves your tits. Can't really explain it but just know he's kinda silly.

I think he loves to rest his head on your chest and take naps. But he'll also start kissing just to get you flustered.

He gets pretty sad if you get sad or feel any self doubt over your tits. He really loves how they fit you and how they look once clothes come off.

He has a special love for whenever you wear cute bras or bralettes, whatever makes you happiest I guarantee he's in love with.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

He's super immature about the way he loves your tits. Like, wolf whistles whenever you wear something a little more revealing, makes raunchy comments, it's gotta make you bashful because he thinks that's cute.

Love love loves to suck on your nipples. Like, I don't know he strikes me as a strong titty guy and small tits make him feral.

He'll bite gently because his bitemarks on your tits make him blush. Big on squeezing and generally worshipping that part of your body. And like Gaz, he just LOVES to stare.

Though I think he doesn't actually like the long necklaces? And it's not that he doesn't like that but rather he thinks they detract from your chest just a bit.

He's the world's best hype man. Feeling insecure? Societal standards telling you that you need more? No worries, he's gonna squash all of that in a heartbeat.

You ever see that one vine that was like, 'take them titties out bc I'm trying to see them?' He's,,, the embodiment of that. Good luck ever wearing a shirt for more than a few hours around him when you're relaxing together at home.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

yeah idk about you guys but I think Ghost has HUGE size kink. And to be fair, he kinda looms over everyone but your small tits really put his size kink into high gear.

He's always going to be cupping, rubbing and sucking your tits or at least dreaming about the moment he can again. Loves having you underneath him so he can watch your chest rise and fall, see every part of you but focus on your nipples especially.

He likes how you look in outfits as well, they accentuate your body and make you look gorgeous to him. Also a big fan of necklines that go low. But he also enjoys knowing he's the only man who can touch you there.

Loves when you lay on top of him to cuddle. Something about your chests pressed together is intimate and romantic to him? He wouldn't call it romantic, more like relaxing. He likes physical touch but it takes a while to get there.

Thinks aesthetically, that you're gorgeous. I think he sketches in his spare time, I can't actually remember if that was,,, confirmed or not? maybe I'm hallucinating but he sketches in his spare time and he's drawn your chest before.

He thinks you're beautiful. No part of you needs to change or bend to societal pressures. Insecurity tends to melt away when you're with him because he just... gets you. Knows what to say and how to say it in such a way that it's comforting and sweet.

#minors dni #captain john price x reader #price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #task force 141 x reader

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jujutsukgojo · 8 months ago

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The Fourth Leg

chrollo lucilfer x reader

Summary: No matter how fast you ran, the Spider's leg cannot get far. No matter how long you hid, you were bound to be found, dear number four. WARNING: toxic relationships, mentions of murder and torture, bullying, murder plot, smut, idk what else? yandere? 18+ Smut scene is based on Fear (1996). I saw it and it crept up on me Chapter one

You’ll always be able spot the blond haired boy from a mile away. His blond locks are longer now, and his eyes are colder. They aren’t the same light grey they used to be when he was around. A small smile comes across your face when you look to see what your boy is wearing: his traditional Kurta attire.

When the massacre happened and you had run into Sheila, she informed you of everything there was to know about the Kurta. So, while he was housed by you, you made those clothes for him. And now that he’s a little older, he still wears the clothes you send him.

Kurapika left home to get his hunter’s license. He was determined and able. Just like you shaped him to be. Alas, there is something there that you once again failed to save. Just like before, like always.

That rageful bloodlust that confuses the host for justice and vengeance when it is neither one. It is darkness that lurks into them and finally settles into their souls.

He is falling for the same trick as you and your dearest friends had. They entered a place and left every smidge of hope they had. What was supposed to be for justice, protection, and Sarasa, resulted in a numbness that is too disgusting to handle. It’s too brutal and vile. Bloody without a thought of washing their hands with repentance.

No matter, the tightness of your chest has you think of one thing: is it too late to save Kurapika?

You go back inside and wash the dishes that you dirtied from cooking his favorites. He had let you know he was coming. It is such a rarity to even be able to contact Kurapika. He’s just so busy lately. That, and he acts like he has never worked a phone before in his life. The little shit.

Thunder and lightning strike, shaking the ground beneath you. A slight rumble under your bare feet. You look out the window again and see a ghost from your past. Tall, silver haired, and just as beefy as before: Silva Zodlyck. You haven’t seen him since he killed you.

If he spots you, it will be a brawl. Another side of you that you have buried, not exorcised, all these years are calling out for his blood. To wreak havoc once more and see the fear in his eyes again. The bad thing about that is, is that you are a non combatant. An exorcist, a priestess of sorts. Not at all suited for the front lines. You can defend yourself and fight, but not on the level of him or the others.

Hell, maybe not even Kurapika now, and you wiped that boy’s tears and snot.

What you can do now is remain low. As much as you want to see that little brat and talk to him, to find out how he’s been, to fuss over him and see if he’s eaten yet, right now you can’t even consider that. Not when he is close to finding out. Besides, he can take care of himself for a bit. As it appears, Silva isn’t after him.

Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on me, trust in me.

Your breath hitches. That smooth voice is in your head. One you haven’t heard of in years. With all the power inside, you tried to push it out. To wipe their faces from your memories.

You see the trash can and can only think of Little. Oh, how you tortured that boy. Putting him in trashcans and sitting on the lids and gave him noogies. Little would always retaliate but had to be held back when that one showed up to protect you. God, why are you thinking of this? There is a beast of a man who almost ended you and your dumbass is reminiscing of your bullying days.

Had you not pulled that one trick up your sleeve, you truly would have died by the hands of Zoldyck. It has been years since you’ve fought seriously. You trained Kurapika, but you never went full throttle. Nothing but rust is on your nen and hand-to-hand combat.

Just sit back, don’t hide your presence or anything. That's what he’s looking for. Any kind of blip in the atmosphere. Hell, he may not even remember you!

_____________

You know what you have to do. There is no hope here. No compassion for others at all. The Kurta clan, Sarasa, you, no one. It is now or never.

You jump at the bolder of a man. Crosses paint themselves on your palms as a holy prayer escapes your lips. Your veins line with the brightest blue and the rubble around you lift off the ground from your aura. Directly, your hands clasp onto Silva’s. He looks confused and the most surprising of all, scared.

He lets go of his hatsu. In the back, there is a bloody scream. A roar that a lion can never compare itself to. A bloodlust from the roar that made Silva’s eyes widen. It is too late, the hatsu hit you straight on. Two balls of electricity and power collide with your fragile body.

When you came to, by pure nen, you could vaguely see your dearest. His eyes watery, voice hoarse, blood trinkling on his face. Silva is not in sight, not a single thing left behind. Did he kill him?

“No, no, no, damn it! Fuck!” He shakes you ever so slightly as you lay in his arms. “Heal yourself, please...”

You have to leave. He has no regard for you or anyone but himself. Chrollo, the boy who is only a few years older than you, yet you still bullied him, is gone. He didn’t care that you’re a non combatant. He was willing to sacrifice your life and his for his ego.

He only wants your ability, positively. Chrollo is gone. It is only the spider left. You have always hated spiders anyway.

________________

Nah, Silva remembers you. He almost died too. How can he forget that he was sent to kill the man responsible for the annihilation of an entire clan? It's hard to forget a case like that considering the brutality of the deaths.

And if Kurapika finds out that you are Number Four, the lost spider, he’ll lose it. He'll demand to see the tattoo, no doubt. You can’t show him that. Especially since you lost a bet with Machi and Paku and put it on a place that he just has no business looking at.

As long as you remain calm and blend in, no one will notice. If Kurapika comes in with Silva, you’ll leave before. Pretend that you are out of town or something. Actually, that’s a good idea. You quickly write a note telling your boy that you had to rush out and that you’d call him later. To help himself to the food and make sure to rest.

There is another rumble under your feet. It feels different. The screams are louder, the air more ominous by the second. What is this? It touches you like a familiar hand. Something cold and clammy. Is that...Nobunaga?

Don't panic, don’t panic. It's been years since you faked your death and abandoned them. They probably don’t remember you, right?

Nah, you pantsed Nobunaga in the middle of a dubbing. He was wearing the ranger’s underwear. He always vowed to get revenge, but he was stopped by Chrollo, of course. You’ve known these people for years and fought with them side by side. You saved him several times and healed him. He will remember you.

There is a deathly silence. Your skin raises goosebumps all over. You can feel him. Your old friend knows or is at least trying to figure out what’s going on. You take a deep breath and remain calm. It has always been easy to trick him. How many times did you do such a thing and lead him to embarrassing situations? And how many times did Chrollo get you out? Every. Single. Time.

You sure were spoiled rotten by Chrollo in every way. It drove people nuts. When you were dropped off in Meteor City at the age of five, you were a terror due to pain and heartbreak. There was only so much a child could take and you weren’t able to express it properly.

The priest held onto patience as much as he could, but no one could ever hold a candle to Chrollo’s patience. It is as if he is a saint. You'd bite, kick, and talk over him. When they dubbed the tapes, you would always turn the tv off just because it wasn’t what you wanted to watch. Uvogin was so close to beating you so many times, but Chrollo intervened and explained to them what empathy was.

However, he went overboard and spoiled you rotten. In the Troupe you got part of Chrollo’s shares including what was actually yours. He made sure that you were the most taken care of out of them all. He always helped you up and protected you the most. You weren’t able to go on a mission by yourself and had to have at least two people with you, just like him.

He always held a soft spot for you, you think. Even before you shared special moments. Until he stopped caring and went somewhere where you can’t follow.

Now that you have abandoned the Spider, Lord only knows what’ll happen. Will he spare you for old time’s sake? Or will Feitan, also known as “Little”, finally get his revenge because of the trash cans?

Or Machi’s cut up clothes, and Paku’s shaved head, or Uvo’s wedgies and bites, Phinks’s eyebrows that never grew back, Shalnark’s broken nose and the tack in his sho-

Oof, you’re going to die. And that was all done when you were like, six? There were plenty more years that you were just onery. Chrollo...that poor guy. The hell he went through before and after the Troupe...the patience of a saint.

Spoiled, spoiled, spoiled, rotten.

You were ungoverned and got away with things that the rest couldn’t. But this, rejecting the Spider, rejecting him, sheltering the last Kurta descendant...you’ll die.

Or be in a lot of pain.

Suddenly, you feel a sharpness crawling up your arm. They're coming. Another rumble occurs right when you back away from the sink. In the distance is a large body flying in the air with a trail of red following it. What?

With a gross thud that you swear everyone heard, lands Silva. Beaten, bloody, gone.

Well, there goes that problem. On to the next, which is Nobunaga. You're caught in his en somehow. Or whatever the hell that's called. Anyway, never did you think he’d grow and be able to stretch it out this far.

You start to leave calmly so he doesn’t suspect anything. Just a calm person that his en is confusing for someone else! Finally, you hear the even more terrible commotion. You know Kurapika is okay if the rumors of the powerful chain user are true. And he seemed to have a lot of help. Once you shake the Nobunaga off, you’ll make your way to Pika.

He doesn’t know that in your past you were one of the Spider’s legs. The fourth one, to be exact. The one who died by the hands of Silva Zoldyck, years ago. Soon after the Kurta’s extinction and after the fight with the Spider’s leader, the devil himself.

You lock the backdoor and head to the woods where there is a safe spot that Kurapika used to train. As you pass by the branches and the shady trees, you are blinded by the harsh memories of your dear friend, Sarasa. She and the Troupe are a few years older than you. They spent more time with her than you did but the memories of her, those precious moments that you wanted to last for years to come, that innocence, was stripped from you. You hold onto the specks of what was left of your childhood, before the truth of hell appeared.

A trash bag, a child inside, the Troupe, and Chrollo who faced it first and has never recovered.

You weren’t there to find her. It was broken down to you because of your youth and denial, you were staunch in the belief that it was a lie and that she was alive. The only one who had patience for you was Chrollo. The tantrums were the tipping point to the realization that she had suffered in her last moments.

When it hit you, he held you as you remained in shock. He catered to your every whim to fill in the shoes of the missing people in your life. And you left him.

How could you not? He left you first, abandoned you for a darkness that you couldn’t shine a light through. Chrollo believed that he was a messiah to the city and to his friends. They follow blindly when you can’t. You are a thief, not a heartless killer. The Kurta didn’t deserve their fate.

You push past a couple of thick bushes to be startled.

“Come here, now.” His voice is as smooth as you remember, just a little deeper now and more commanding. Although you know him and his quirks, the atmosphere is off. A creepy feeling of nothing in the air. You can’t sense him of his anger at all. Only a chill and a hair-raising sensation that doesn’t match anyone you know. Perhaps, this is fear.

You walk to him as you spot him in a clearing. “Chrollie.”

“A dead spider, huh.” He stands tall but casually with his hands in his pockets. His hair is slicked back and the tattoo on his forehead is more prominent. He’s shirtless and wears an odd coat. His style choice is different now than it was back then. Before, he would throw on normal Meteor City clothing, which consisted of whatever was around. Looking back, his favorite was a white shirt and plain black jeans. Now, he looks like he wears designer.

“Here I thought that you were squashed,” he looks you up and down, eyes narrowing. You feel vulnerable under his gaze. “All along you were here. Raising a devil that killed two of your own.”

You know about Uvogin and Pakunoda. Kurapika felt so guilty, after the events he vented to you. He sounded as young as he did when you took him in. Of course, you were hurt and cried when Kurapika wasn't looking. You mourned them as anyone would.

“I know about that-”

“And you still didn’t come back?” Chrollo is shaking, desperate to calm down. His fists are clenched so hard, you think they’ll bleed. This, you think, is the most anger he's ever shown. And it's toward you. “Could I? You would’ve killed me!”

“I would have accepted you with open arms, Number Four.” Would have.

Number Four. He didn’t even call you by your real name. “No, you would react just as badly as you are now.”

“Oh, my darling spider, you have no idea. All you had to do is trust me.” He shakes his head in disappointment.

_____________

“I’m not joining, Chrollie. I’m not calling you Boss, either.” You were disappointed that they actually went through with this. Years ago, you came across their little meeting. Chrollie looked at you and asked if you wanted to join but you called them all stupid.

“Why not? I'm the leader.” You roll your eyes. “No, you’re a theater nerd.”

You jump and sit on the desk. He comes up to you, only inches apart. Chrollie gently cradles your face. “That part of me is gone, darling.”

“Darling? Pretending to be all manly now? A gentleman? That's what 'darling' reminds me of. Those books you read.” You acknowledge that he’s grown up. He broader and stronger. His hands no longer smooth but are calloused and bigger than your own.

He erases how gentle he was caressing your face and replaces it with a commanding and firm touch on your cheeks. “Join me.”

“No.” You answer as well as you can with your cheeks squished. Suddenly, his lips touch yours. It is your first kiss. It sends shocks to your special place. He parts from you. Embarrassingly, you follow in his direction.

Quickly, you snap out of the trance of your first kiss. You shake your head in defiance. “I want to travel! I want to get out of this city and experience the highs. I've already touched the lows. I don’t want to get deeper.”

"You think we’re lower than you?” There’s an edge in his tone. One that tells you to tread carefully. However, you’re not shy when it comes to Chrollie.

“No. But I worry that you will be.” He tilts his head and asks, “Because you think I can’t take you to the there?”

He grabs your hand that is so much larger than yours. It's weird now. You are used to him leading you places but now you just realize the difference between you two. He’s...a man now. It’s all so new. You'll never admit that he makes you feel some type of way.

“Let me show you.”

Just like in the movies, you see a roller coaster for the first time. There are lights everywhere and smiling and laughing people. And not at you! Just the joys of life without worrying where the next meal is coming from. You spot the balloons in various animal shapes and see the fluffy candy. The pretzels are soft, and the fried dough the size of your head is to die for. You have never witnessed such freedom. The last time you have seen an inkling of joy was when you were a child and Chrollie was dubbing tapes.

The two of you get on the back of the ride. You cling onto his arm. “Scared?”

“No!” In truth, you were. Never in your life did you ever see one of these in person. Only on the videos Chrollo would pick up. It showed the ride going fast and high with screaming people. There were twists and sharp turns on the tape. And now, you get to be one of those people to experience it.

The ride starts. He wraps his right arm around you. The roller coaster shoots out causing you to flinch.

“I got you, trust me.” You curl into him as the ride takes a sharp turn. Right after it happened, you feel tracing between your legs. You look down and see Chrollie’s fingers rubbing against you.

It's...feeling really good. Your breaths become quicker as his fingers do figure eights through your underwear. You let out a little shriek when he pulls them down. Now, there’s nothing blocking him from you. The ride takes a sudden left.

You don’t know how it happened, how it led to this. What exactly did you say to him that incited him to massage your bud and insert a single finger inside you. Slowly coaxing moans that blend in with the screaming of everyone else. Never have you been so grateful for that. He places a kiss on your head. “Join me, swear to me.”

Another finger enters you. His palm rubs and presses against you. How are his fingers so long? Why are they bigger than yours and feel so much better?

You start to really moan as he goes faster. You lift up slightly to follow his motions with your hips. Chrollie bites and sucks on the spot under your ear. The ride starts to go up.

“Holy sh-oh God...” You breathily cry. He growls in your ear at the sound. “I’ll take you there, to the highs. So high you’ll never see the ground.”

You grab his wrist and move furiously, spreading your legs a little more to give him as much room as possible. You want more, need more. There is a feeling there that is about to pop. One that he can take.

“Swear to me.” You watch as the stars get closer. People make noises of excitement different than yours, but it blends. “Do you want me to stop?”

“N-no! I trust you!” You grab onto anything in reach as you give up trying to keep up with him. He's cradling you, his dominant hand relentless and lips sinful. A goose bump raising feeling starts. It's cold and is making you shake even more. Chrollo feels it too.

He's smiling when you gasp and your head goes back.

Everything is happening at once. Two different sensations, both caused by the boss, by Chrollo Lucilfer. And he knows it, he’s waited for it.

“Swear to me, trust me!” You grab his leg and squeeze it. “Let me take you there.” He whispers in your ear.

As the ride reaches the peak, so do you. Loudly, you swear to him. To the spider and his name. His hands and whatever energy is rushing to you, cause your eyes to go back. The squelching sound is loud, but your euphoric moans of his name are louder.

From what you gather in this state, the ride was supposed to stop. Supposed to stay on the rails rather than bounce a little. You didn't even notice that your aura was the cause for the ride's disruption.

When your high leaves you, you’re in a daze and glowing. He withdraws himself and sucks on his fingers. You gasp at the sight. It is pornographic, the hungry look in his eyes. The grey that you have known for years has become so dark and just by a lick. He grabs your hand gently and leads you away to finish what he started. Your legs shake along the way and for the rest of the night when the two of you are satisfied. The way he licked and sucked and swirled his tongue on the most delicate of places and thrusted himself inside had him gain the scratches on his back.

The two of you created a memory that neither of you would ever forget.

It wasn’t until you learn about the nodes do you hold a slight bitterness towards him. He caused yours to open wide because of this. Your aura nodes and a nen pact that binds you together. For the Spider.

____________

You swallow at the memory and plenty more of similar situations with your former boss. For years you trusted him fully. But somewhere along the way, he had lost it. “Chrollie, please understand. I just didn’t agree with it anymore.”

“Really?” He scoffs. He knows you are hiding the words to describe how it really was, how it is. You rub your eyes with the palms of your hands.

“When you killed that entire clan...tortured them, mutilated them...I couldn’t do it anymore. You wouldn’t listen to me. You only thought of yourself.”

“Excuse me?” His voice is low, and his eyebrows are raised. He's gotten so intimidating now. Before, he was someone you pushed over even when he was your boss. It has always been that way. You admit, you are spoiled. Undisciplined and rebellious to the Spider.

To Chrollo Lucilfer.

If you are going to die today, you are leaving with giving him a piece of your mind. A dose of reality that he no longer has.

“You completely lost yourself. How can you make dumb decisions like that?”

“Their eyes gave Meteor City a profit that helped millions. I did it for our city.” You shake your head no. “No, you did it for yourself. As some kind of sick powerplay! And everyone follows you blindly, and to do it without a thought. You guys kill for no reason. It didn’t use to be that way.”

Your lip wobbles at the memory of that day. You had gone up to Chrollo and went against the mission. It was stupid to you. It didn’t make any sense. They were going to kill these people because he wanted their eyes? You understand that he is greedy and increasingly vicious. But not cruel, not before the end.

He didn’t yell at you, but he did put you in your place with a stern yet calm voice. It was scary. Just as scary as he is now. You still couldn’t do it though. The thought of it made you cry.

So, he commanded you to keep watch and capture any stragglers. There were none. You ran away from the screams and ran into a boy with blond hair and blue clothing. A Kurta. The last one, to be exact. You begged him not to go over there. Afraid of his fate or him seeing the gruesome crime.

The Troupe were not there, only corpses. Eyes gouged out, bruises and bloody. Even the children. Lucilfer had become the devil himself.

You, without thought, took the boy in. You found a little village not too far away and raised him in a cottage. Unfortunately, you weren’t there every single day because of your “job”. One he knew nothing about.

Until your last day. You and Chrollo had been walking in Meteor City when Silva Zoldyck came. Someone called for him to eliminate the Troupe. Your dearest didn’t care that you aren’t really suited for fighting. Especially a Zoldyck.

That was your chance! So, when Silva had hit you with his Hatsu, you hid inside your energy and faked your death. It looked so real, felt like it too. It took a lot of healing and purifying to survive.

You had to do it. Your friends had lost their way. You couldn’t go along with it anymore.

“You left.” You whimper.

“Are you kidding me? I believe the one who abandoned the Spider, your friends, me, is you. My spoiled little brat .” He takes a few steps closer to your standing frame.

“You went to a place where I couldn’t follow. It was no longer about finding Sarasa’s killers or protecting the city. The Spider turned evil. I knew it was happening but I didn’t face it until years later when you committed a pointless massacre.” He ignored you and talked over you.

“You swore. And here I find you healthy, alive. While we are dying. We needed you and you left!” That ended with a powerful yell.

“You didn’t care about me either. I was no match for Silva yet you were willing to sacrifice me. You went to a place I just couldn’t -can’t- follow.”

A tear drips down your face. His face is furious and slicked back hair is coming undone by him running his hand through it. He stops when he sees your tear. Instinct takes over and he wipes it.

“Uvo, Paku, Shalnark, Korotopi. All gone and you could have stopped it. I was cursed by that boy to never talk to the Troupe again. We had to find an exorcist in Greed Island of all places because you decided we were trash.” His voice deceptively hushed and smooth. You shake your head no.

“Not trash. Just bad leadership.”

Chrollo’s eyes widen. This is the first time anyone has insulted his leadership. He immediately pulls your hair. You yelp and try to get out of his hold.

“And yet you do not complain of the riches I gave your greedy ass.” He growls.

“You are a profitable leader. A good provider. An excellent one. I hadn’t a need or want in the world,”

You struggle to get out of his grip. It loosens as you speak. “But you aren’t a true leader. A true one would never endanger his people like you have. Never would view them as replaceable.”

He tosses you on the ground. You accidentally land on your wrist. Chrollo paces back and forth. “Replaceable? Bad leader-ha! Oh, love you are something.”

He grabs your arms roughly. You try to yank your arm out of his grasp. “You’ve already replaced me!”

Chrollo shakes his head no. “I could never.”

“I’m sorry, Chrollie. I just-you-,” You take a deep breath. “Everything went downhill. We stopped looking for the killers like you promised. We weren’t Robin Hood anymore, either. Remember that story you read me? Take from the rich and give to the poor?”

“I remember.”

“It wasn’t that anymore. What was left was coldness and blood. And a boy whose life and childhood were taken from him. Just like ours. It wasn’t fair.”

“We support and provide for our home, not some random people.”

Frustrated, you retort, “You like to listen to the sound of your own voice too much. That's why you don’t listen! You don’t realize actions have consequences until shit like Uvo and Paku happen.”

He raises his hand. You flinch to brace for it. This is the first time he will strike you.

Time is frozen as you wait for the pain. You open your eyes and see what’s the hold up. Chrollo stands frozen with his hand still in the air still. His face is no longer hardened, but shocked. His mouth is slightly open and eyes have widened. He stares at his open palm as if it had a mind of its own, and he couldn't believe it.

Then he clears up once again to return to his previous deadly expression. Rather than striking you on your face, he lands his hand on your ass. You yelp at the impact.

“ Ow!” You rub the cheek he hit. “Why? Of all things?” Like him hitting your ass was supposed to be better than your face? It's demeaning!

He grabs your face with one hand and kisses you harshly, passionately. A confession, a return. Stupidly, you get lost in him like always.

_______

“No! You play this instead.”

“But I want to dub Cleanup Rangers...” Chrollo rubs his arm as he looks down at the nine year old. You were dropped off at the front doorstep of the church about a couple of years ago. Ever since then you’ve been a little terror. Always picking on people, on the priest, the entire city.

You are a tiny bully pushing everyone around because you’re hurt. Only Sarasa could fully calm you. While everyone else just visited the church from time to time, you were a child that had to live in it because no one liked you. You never got a nanny or substitute siblings. All you had was yourself and a priest who was often at his wits end. You had to follow him around and practice his teachings and study them. You were often times bored and thus angry at everything.

Sarasa was a God send in his eyes and yours. Chrollo was someone who tried to follow in Sarasa’s footsteps with you but lacked the ability to tell you no. He was a patient and caring boy, but one you walk over.

“I don’t care! This one!” You stomp your feet.

“Don’t let her push you around like that, Chrollo.” Uvogin recently hit a growth spurt, so he towered over you two completely.

“No! What I say goes. This one!” You show Uvogin the tape. “Do you even know what’s on it?”

“No. But I want to see.”

Chrollo hums and places the tape inside. It turns out, it was blank. You pouted as Uvogin teased you. His smile is wide and practically glows. The laugh is boisterous and bounces off the walls. Immediately, you hit him in his most sensitive spot, causing him to buckle and groan.

You scream at the top of your lungs. “Stop laughing at me!”

Laughter and a smile like that remind you too much of your parent when they dropped you off in this God forsaken, dirty, and polluted place. You hate it. “It’s okay. Here, we’ll do the Clean up Rangers and you can help if you want!”

Chrollo took out the blank tape and put it aside. He picked you up and placed you on the desk closest to him. Uvo hisses and glares at you. You frown and stick out your tongue.

“Listen, you can play the-”

“No. I'm scared of that.” He knows good and damn well you don’t listen. He looks at you confused until he deduces the problem. “Stage fright?”

Confused, you ask, “What’s that?”

Uvogin groans in the background with every dirty word he can muster. He curses Chrollo for being so gentle with you and a “pushover”. You quickly tell him to shut up or you’ll hurt him even worse.

“It’s when you get scared to talk in front of a bunch of people.” You sat in front of him and nodded. “Okay, how about you have a front row seat then! Make sure you cheer us on, alright?”

You're still pouting. He rubs your cheek. You want to play with the rest of them too! They never let you play normal things. He hugs you and rubs your back to console you.

“Trust me. It'll be fun!”

___________

You wrap your arms around his neck, gently tugging at his hair. What was a proclamation of dominance, turned into an embrace of passion. You part from him slightly. You rub his chest and ask, “Why did you lose your way? Killing all of those people?”

“Why did you stop trusting me?”

“You are willing to sacrifice everyone, even me.” That day with Silva Zoldyck was proof of your accusation, of your observation. He sucks on your neck with the intent of a mark. You give him a gasp. Slightly muffled, “Why do you doubt me? Do you honestly think I would have? You stopped trusting me.”

He nibbles on your ear. You try to pull away before you are totally caught in him. “The Kurta-”

“Are responsible for Sarasa’s death and for some of the trafficking of children. Getting rid of them was necessary. Do you understand?” He continues to kiss down your neck, making sure to suck on the best places. He holds you a little closer.

You want to believe there was a deeper reason for the extermination of the Kurta. “You barely remember it, so it can’t be true. Hell, how can I believe you when you don’t care about anyone?” He slaps your ass again. You are this close to smacking the shit out of him. You rub your bum in hopes to stop the stinging.

“Stop that! That’s not funny!” You pull away to see an indifferent face for a split second. Chrollo grabs the back of your hair and pulls you in once again. His personality flips like a switch. The sweetness is gone and back is the bloodlust and anger. Honestly, it never left. It was just hidden to trick you. He's a good actor like that.

____________

“What are you guys doing?” Phinks groans at the sight of you. Recently, he had to pull Feitan out of the trashcan again. Next to him is Feitan saying words in his native tongue that would have made a sailor blush. You blow a kiss to them both just to antagonize them.

“Enough, she’s part of the Spider now.” Chrollo, right on his forehead, has a cross tattoo that kind of resembles a web. You don't know where he got it done at.

“Her? What can she do?” Machi crosses her arms. You always wondered if she liked Chrollie. If she knew what the two of you did last night, she’d scream.

You’re still a little sore and flustered. But happy and satisfied. Never have you felt so good. At first it was so sweet and dare you say, loving. Then as the night went on it became animalistic.

Rather than sit around him, waiting to hang on to his every word, you sit next to him, chomping on some chips you found. You hear some groans and mumbles about how you are and how you’re going to get away with everything. Again.

You stick your tongue out and say, “That’s why I ain’t sharing...bitch ass.” Phinks crosses his arms. “Damn it...”

“Enough,” He stares down at you. “Like I said, she is a leg. And an exorcist.”

You feel his eyes on you again. You look up to see his eyes. “The fourth leg.”

________

“You are coming home, now.” He drags you by the back of your neck.

“Wait, stop!”

“Shut the ever living fuck up.” He squeezes you harder. Wasn't he just loving on you like two seconds ago? You have always wondered if he was all there. He seemed genuine when he was a kid but seeing the man he's become, you may never know.

“Hold on! You said the Kurta killed Sarasa. How do you know?”

“Sheila told us.”

You see the rest of the legs. They look unbothered until they see you. Shock is painted on their faces so vibrantly.

“I thought...I thought she hadn’t seen you in years?” You have a sense of confusion and suddenly, dread.

____

Sheila limps to a cave. You see her as you run away from the Troupe and their horrific actions. This happened right before you would spot a blond boy. “Sheila?”

“Oh my God!” She hugs you tightly. Her leg has always been messed up since she was a child.

You feel like crying at the sight of her. It has been you and the Spider for so long now, you were forgetting what Sheila was like. She was the closest thing you had to Sarasa. You had your own way of loving someone, but Sarasa seemed the most natural. A big sister, a mother even. A girl who always shared stickers with you and sang you to sleep.

“What’s going on?” She asks as you hug return her hug. “T-they’re killing them!”

“Who? Who’s dying?”

“The Kurta!” Sheila gasps. “I was just with them. Oh no, did I-”

You sniffle and wipe your eyes. “No, no. This is on them.”

“And the Kurta were so nice too. Harmless, peaceful.”

____

Why did she say that if she knew they killed Sarasa? When did her and Chrollo talk? You were with Chrollo the whole time, so it couldn’t have been that day.

You see Sheila in the background. She is looking down at the ground, then looks up with the most wicked smile and gleam. What? You stare back with horror. Never has she had that smile. It is foreign and totally misplaced. This is Sheila, not a Troupe member. Why is she even here? She isn’t a part of it and disapproved of the group.

Then, everything is falling together.

Everyone’s faces are that of monsters.

You don’t understand. She told them of their whereabouts. She said something completely different to you. And of course, you believed her. Her and Sarasa were like sisters. They were so close it was like looking at twins. Never would you have thought she could commit such a sin. The Kurta were innocent, but...what’s going on? Everyone was desperate to capture Sarasa’s killers-oh no. You stop moving your feet, only to be dragged by Chrollo Lucilfer. He moves his hand from your neck to your arm in a tight hold, tripping you along the way.

“No, no, no!” You’re trying to yank free. How can he not see it? He’s the smartest person you know. How can he not see what had taken place that day? The horror, the blood and mutilation. Chrollo, you must see this!

The Kurta and Sarasa were innocent. Kurapika...your boy.

“Chrollo, don’t you see?” You whisper for only him to hear. He looks down at you as the rain begins to fall gracefully.

You can feel the tears swell.

Does he know what happened that day? That the Troupe and Sheila are monsters. And not just because of the Kurta’s extinction. You may not have all of the puzzle pieces, but by the reactions alone, it becomes clearer.

Out of everyone here, you struggle to read him. Always have, even when you were kids. You only catch the truth from time to time when he gives it to you. They are few in between.

“Have they made a fool of you?” It is rare to one up Chrollo. His power can wipe nations, his aura is powerful and vast, his commanding tone is one that cannot be ignored.

“Sacrifices have to be made.” He bluntly answers without a hint of remorse or second thought. His tone is final and dead. Like he has nothing else to say about it.

_______

“I’m fucking sick of her-!” Uvogin plops down on the chair. It creaks under him. Before Uvogin can continue his ranting, another voice pipes up on the matter of a certain little girl.

“She’d...be fun.” His voice is recognizable to anyone due to his lack of pure fluency. His hair is choppy right now because a brat got her hands on a pair of scissors. The thick, black, strands are being fixed by Pakunoda. It isn’t the best, but at least it wouldn’t look as bad as it did.

Machi taps her foot. “She would be, huh?”

“It can’t be us, though. Too obvious.” Shalnark points. Collectively, the friends are beginning to plan and imagine a better Meteor City.

“Are you guys being serious, right now? This is a child you’re talking about.” Pakunoda taps on Feitan’s shoulder, signaling that she’s done. He turns back to look at her and answers, “Deadly.”

Machi sighs. “You’re right, Shal. It is too obvious. And we have rehearsal with Chrollo, too.”

Pakunoda crosses her arms. “This isn’t sitting right. Something is going to go wrong.”

“Remember your shaved head?” Machi asks. Pakunoda tenses up at the memory of you butchering her hair. Who keeps giving you scissors? You would be cute with that crooked smile of yours if it wasn't caused by the loss of her hair.

“There are a lot more bad things going on in the city. Accidents happen all the time, Paku.” Nobunaga puts his hair into a bun. Pakunoda remains silent. “We can’t let anyone else know. Only ones in this room.”

As said, bad things happen to kids in Meteor City all the time.

Sarasa decided to go find a tape instead of you since you have a habit of picking blanks. You stomped your foot in protest. You wanted to go! You’d finally had the right directions to pick up some good tapes, anyway. Alas, Sarasa went while Chrollo soothed you.

She skips along and sees a few men ready to welcome her in the worst way.

“Is it her?” Uvogin’s heart is racing. It's pounding so loud it’s in his ears. The rain is the only outside noise as Chrollo reluctantly opens the bag.

Chrollo opens the bag and sees the face of Hell. Uvo grabs him and demands to know what is on the note since he can't read it. The wrong face is behind that letter, that much is known. The wrong directions were given to the wrong child. Everyone needs to know. To hear the mistake and pain, the truth.

The words on that letter will never be spoken.

_____

“The Kurta is an isolated clan with special eyes. They'd be a good cover, no?” Sheila asks. Lately, Sarasa’s murder is being brought up more and more. Chrollo is turning into the leader that Meteor City needs. And an omnipotent being. A terrifying, controlling, mastermind of a god. One that demands respect and cooperation, devotion to what he’s created: a spider. But that spider has one weakness that at a drop of a hat, can cause this god to wreak havoc on everything.

Calm and collected he appears, but thunderous when he strikes. Loyal to what is his, but horrible in all.

“So, the Kurta. Agree?”

“Aye.” They say in unison. “It’s not like anyone would miss them.”

_____

The more you study him, the more you wonder if he knows. Was he blind or was he in on it and spun that story of him finding her? How could any of them do this?

“Please, not you...” You whisper. Chrollo’s book is open to a page fit for an exit. A green portal opens. “No! No, no, no!”

You struggle even more as everything, except for Chrollo’s role, becomes clear. You are not the smartest, but you are stupid. Years in that blasted city has taught you valuable lessons of reading people. Years of knowing these people have given you an advantage on top of that. Well, not everything obviously. “Chrollo, what did you do?”

He glances down at you once more. “I am the Head, my fourth limb. But even a spider has a treasure to keep.”

His grey eyes are dull but with the slightest hint of possessiveness. You'd recognize it anywhere. It is the same look he gave you when you saw him today, it is the same when you first met him and he had decided to keep you under his wing, it is the same as when you finally joined the Troupe.

This wicked gleam has always sought you, always found you. Unfortunately, you could never read them other than that. Like you said, he only shows what he wants you to see and even then, it is blurry. God, you wish you could. If only for a moment to answer your question. Just a straight answer, the truth, about how or why Sarasa died. She was innocent and sweet. She was your friend! Everyone’s, actually.

So, why? What could she have possibly done to deserve such a fate? How can he not see the true culprits? What about the Kurta? Did he know and went with it anyway?

No, that’s a bad deal. It can’t be just one question and one answer. You have too many questions. And not a single one will be answered, you bet.

He drags you to the portal. The Troupe starts to enter it. Phinks looks at you for a split second. For that one second his eyes look...sad? No, that’s not possible with someone like him. Like them. You are accepting that you’re in danger, but not that these beasts have a heart or a capability of remorse.

You look around frantically. Where's Kurapika? Is he dead?

Would he save someone like you?

“(Y/n), who are you looking for?” Chrollo asks. He doesn’t even look at you. You want to call out for Kurapika, but that’d expose him to danger. No, if your boy hates you let that be so. At least he’ll be okay. Hopefully he has learned to make his own attire.

“You can’t do this, Lucilfer.”

“But dear, I can, I have, and I will.” A few more steps to the portal. “Lucilfer, I don’t want to go.”

You yank your arm out of his grasp. “Stop this! I don’t want to go. Do you know what they did?”

He calmly turns around and stares at you. He expected this behavior from you. He walks to your frozen form, causing the few survivors of the village to jump. Once again, he cradles your face and places the gentlest of kisses on your lips. They're still soft, you note. Still full and masterful.

Right as your eyes are about to close, you see that he is looking at something past you as the kiss begins to get more intense. More possessive by his hold and the movement of his lips. His grey eyes are narrowed at something that you can’t see.

Is this a claiming? What the hell is he looking at? Done being curious, you turn to look and see your boy Kurapika’s horrified and furious expression. You have no thoughts other than your impending fate. Your vicious crimes and relentlessly cruel past have resurfaced in the form of a wicked man. The boy you took care of and never verbally admitted you loved him as your own, is ruined even more. His heart is broken.

Sarasa is gone, the Spider reigns supreme, and you are stuck. There are more questions than answers at this point. Too many lies from a group that cling together in some sick and twisted loyalty. You have accepted that in the middle of that is the boy you admired and maybe even loved.

And you finally understand what Phinks meant. It wasn’t remorse, it was pity for an old and spoiled friend as they are pushed onto the spider’s web.

#chrollo lucilfer #chrollo lucilfer x reader #hxh #chrollo x reader #oof he's got me #angst #slight yandere #yandere #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere hxh #smut #mild smut #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #hxh fanfic #q #cant be the only one who thinks the cross tattoo looks like a web??

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