#chrollo lucilfer

[eyesofbong]

◇━━━ Breakin' Tiles!

a/n note. I wanted to see if I could still write smut while I was completely butt ass naked in the bath—definitely not inspired by my bathing daydreams or anything! Who created this picture?! @luvhiso and I couldn't find it anywhere; we could only track down the official art sketch. If anyone knows, please reach out to either Smiley or me so I can give proper credit. ♡

pairing: Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader

◇ warning. Let's see here, 18+ MDNI, explicit rough sex, shower sex, blowjob (m receiving), face fucking, throat bulging, cum swallowing, floor sex, p in v, fem bodied reader, unprotected sex, creampie, he uses nen on your pussy (?!)

sypnosis. Grief-stricken by Uvogin’s recent death, Chrollo seeks solace in you, and before he departs to steal Neon’s nen, you offer yourself to him, allowing him to release his sorrow through your sweet cunt in the shower. 

word count. 3.8k

Chrollo’s gray-hued gaze bore down on you, cold with the lingering cloud of fresh grief. Despite his mind being far away, he was studying your submission, savoring how low you’d sunk—on your knees, cunt throbbing, mouth-watering, waiting for his command. His gaze, distant and gloomy, only made your desperation worse. You were nothing more than a devoted whore for him, and the shame of it made you wetter, your swollen folds practically begging for release. But that wouldn’t come until he decided. Until you earned it.

You didn’t care that your knees ached, and bruised from kneeling on the cold tile. That pain was a dull throb, nothing compared to the fire raging between your legs. Every second of his silence was unbearable, his unreadable glare making your heart race, your lips parting to catch your breath. You licked them instinctively, eyes wide and worshipful, as if his body were the only thing you lived for.

Chrollo’s body was your altar, and his cock… your offering.

It dangerously loomed before you, impossibly thick and heavy, veins bulging like they were about to burst under the pressure. The fat, swollen head dripped with precum, the thick liquid oozing down the length of his shaft. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it, couldn’t stop the way your body ached with need, the slick between your legs running down your thighs. His cock curved slightly upward, the tip an angry, dark red, so close you could almost taste it. Your cunt clenched at the sight, your body already begging for him to fill you, stretch you until you broke.

Your trembling fingers reached out, wrapping around the base of his cock, feeling it throb against your palm. His skin was hot, slick with water and precum, and you felt his desire pulse under your grip like a second heartbeat. Your hand barely fit around the girth, and the sheer size of him made your mouth go dry with anticipation. You knew that once you took him in, he’d wreck you, ruin you, and the thought made your pussy clench in anticipation.

You leaned in, your tongue slipping out, eager to taste him. The first lick was tentative, a soft swipe along the underside of his shaft, but the salty bitterness of precum and water made you shiver. You licked again, firmer this time, dragging your tongue up the thick vein that ran along his length. Chrollo’s cock twitched in your grip, a silent order for you to keep going. His hand clamped down on your head, fingers digging into your scalp, forcing your mouth to take him.

You gasped as he guided you, your lips parting to take in the swollen head, your tongue swirling around the tip as precum flooded your mouth. He tasted filthy—bitter, salty, and thick, making your throat tighten, but the feeling of submission only made you wetter. His cock was heavy on your tongue, stretching your lips as you took more of him, inch by inch until you were choking on his length. The pressure of him against your throat was unbearable, but you didn’t stop, your cunt dripping onto the shower tiles as you worshipped him with your mouth.

Chrollo’s grip tightened, his hips pushing forward, forcing you to take him deeper. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you gagged around his cock, the obscene, wet sounds of your mouth echoing in the shower. He was relentless, using your mouth like it was nothing more than a toy for his pleasure. The thought of it, the humiliation, made your pussy gush, your whole body trembling as you gave yourself over to him completely.

You moved with him, your body syncing with his rhythm as he forced himself deeper down your throat. Each brutal thrust sent a shiver through you, the bulge of his cock visibly stretching your throat as he plunged in and out. The crushing grip he had on your head only made you slobber more, spit dripping down your chin and onto your chest as he fucked your mouth mercilessly. If he pressed harder, he could easily pop your head like a melon, and that knowledge—how close he was to destroying you—only made you more desperate to please him.

His cock hit the back of your throat repeatedly, a violent rhythm that left you gagging and choking, your eyes watering as his heavy, porcelain balls slapped wetly against your chin with each thrust. The obscene, wet slap, slap of his balls against your face echoed in the shower, mixing with the sound of your choked breaths and the filthy squelch of his cock sliding in and out of your mouth. He was relentless and rough, and it felt like he was using your mouth to rid himself of every bit of grief weighing him down.

And yet, even as he used you, you felt like you were giving him something—sucking the sadness out of him, your mouth offering a kind of solace. His gaze darkened, the icy detachment in his gray eyes cracking slightly. His lips remained pressed into a thin line, but the tension was there, building, about to snap.

His eyes, though—there was a flicker of something behind them now, something more primal, more raw. You felt it. He was losing his control, bit by bit. And you wanted to see him break, wanted to watch the stoic mask crumble and reveal the feral lust underneath. You craved it, to make him lose himself completely, to pull him back to life with your touch, your mouth.

Your hand slid up his thigh as you deepened your suction, hollowing your cheeks around him, pulling him deeper with each thrust. The guttural groan that escaped his throat sent a thrill through you, your cunt clenching at the sound of it. You were so close to unraveling him, to make him forget everything except the feeling of your mouth and the heat of your body.

You sucked harder, your tongue swirling around the thick veins of his cock, savoring the salt of his precum. His grip tightened, his hips jerking forward more erratically now. His breathing was ragged, lips parting as his control slipped away. You could feel it in the way his cock twitched, the way his balls tightened as he neared his breaking point.

This was what you wanted—to bring him to the edge, to make him lose himself in you completely, to watch the cold, distant Chrollo unravel into something raw and primal, just for you.

His cock twitched violently in your mouth, thick and pulsing as he reached the brink. Without warning, his grip on your head tightened to a vice-like hold, shoving you down until your nose was pressed against his pelvis. You felt him hit the back of your throat and beyond, your airway constricting as your lips stretched around him, eyes watering. He groaned, low and primal, as the first hot, thick spurt of cum exploded down your throat. It hit so fast that you barely had time to process it, let alone breathe.

Wave after wave of his cum flooded your mouth, sliding down your throat in thick ropes, overwhelming your senses. You gagged, throat convulsing around his cock, but he didn’t let up—forcing every last drop down until you were choking on it, gasping for air. Gulp. Gulp. The filthy sound of you swallowing echoed in the shower, his cock twitching with each swallow, as if marking every bit of control he had over you.

You could barely keep up, his cum spilling from your lips, dripping down your chin in messy, obscene strands. But he wasn’t finished. Just as the last tremor of his orgasm wracked his body, he yanked his cock from your mouth with a slick, wet pop, leaving you gasping, drooling, and cum still leaking from your parted lips. You barely had time to recover before his hands were on you, dragging you up like you weighed nothing, your legs shaking from the intensity of it all.

Without a word, he slammed you against the glass wall of the shower, your back hitting the cold surface with a sharp slap. The shock of it sent a jolt through your body, your bare skin sticking to the fogged-up glass, wet from the steam and your sweat. You let out a needy, breathless whine, your body trembling as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart, his cum still clinging to your lips.

Before you could catch your breath, his lips brushed your ear, his voice dark and commanding. "You're going to take it," he growled, his tone sending a fresh wave of arousal straight to your core. "Take it all."

His words were like fire, setting your nerves alight. You felt the heavy weight of his cock—still rock hard—press against your slick entrance, the head teasing your swollen folds. Your pussy throbbed, drenched, and aching to be filled. You whimpered, your body betraying you as your hips shifted forward, desperate for him to stretch you, to fuck you senseless.

He didn’t hesitate. His cock shoved into you in one brutal, unforgiving thrust, your slick walls parting around him with a wet squelch. The stretch was instant, the thick girth of him forcing you open, your pussy swallowing him greedily, your head thrown back against the glass as you let out a strangled moan. The sharp slap of his hips against yours echoed through the shower, each thrust deeper than the last, his cock plunging into you like he was claiming you, owning every inch of your body.

“You feel that?” he hissed through clenched teeth, his voice barely above a growl as he buried himself inside you, his hips grinding against yours, forcing you to take every inch. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be fucked until you can’t even think?”

You could barely respond, your mind blank from the overwhelming pressure of him filling you, stretching you so wide it hurt—but in the best way. Every thrust hit deep, dragging a filthy, wet sound from your cunt, the tight space between your bodies slick with your arousal. His balls slapped against your ass with each brutal thrust, the obscene smack of skin on skin only heightening the filthy scene, making you tremble.

Your legs were shaking, barely able to hold you up as he pounded into you, pushing you harder against the glass. It creaked under your weight, but neither of you cared. All you could feel was him—his cock ramming into your tight heat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck as he whispered filthy things into your ear. "You’re going to take it all, aren’t you?" he rasped, his voice dark, breath hot against your neck. "Every fucking inch of me."

Chrollo’s presence was overwhelming, his body towering over you with a deadly grace that made him seem more god than man. The steam from the shower clung to his pale skin, droplets running down the sharp planes of his body, tracing the defined lines of muscle that rippled with every motion. His chest was broad but sleek, the kind of strength that was deceptive—he didn’t need to bulk up to be powerful. His shoulders were wide, tapering down to a narrow waist that highlighted the striking V-shape of his torso. The faintest scars marred his otherwise perfect skin, each one a silent testament to the battles he had fought, adding a rugged allure to his otherwise pristine beauty.

His dark hair usually slicked back with meticulous precision, was now disheveled from the water and the heat of your body. Strands of it clung to his forehead, damp and wild, casting shadows over his piercing gray eyes. Those eyes—once cold and emotionless—now burned with intensity. There was a depth in them that you hadn’t seen before, a flicker of something raw, something primal, as they roamed over your body, taking in every quiver, every tremble of pleasure he drew from you.

His lips, pale and thin, were pressed into a hard line as he fought to keep control, but the flush of color creeping up his neck betrayed him. His breath came in ragged pants now, heavy and uneven, the tension in his jaw showing how hard he was holding back. Yet despite the restraint in his expression, his body told a different story. His muscles were taut, veins bulging down his arms as he gripped you, holding you up with an ease that made you feel impossibly small in his grasp.

His thighs, powerful and thick, flexed with each thrust, driving his hips into yours with a relentless rhythm that shook the glass door behind you. Every inch of him was perfection, sculpted and lethal, his body a weapon of control and desire. His cock—thick, veined, and still pulsing inside you—felt like it was made to stretch you to your limits, the head hitting deep against your cervix with every powerful thrust. It curved slightly upward, veins running along its thick length, its heavy weight filling you.

His hands, calloused yet elegant, gripped your thighs tightly, fingers pressing bruises into your skin as he held you against the glass, shaking the very structure with the force of his need. His pale skin, wet from the shower and slick with sweat, gleamed under the dim light, making him look almost ethereal like some dark angel sent to break you. Yet for all the perfection in his form, it was the small cracks in his facade that made him irresistible—the flush on his cheeks, the subtle twitch of his lips as he struggled to keep control, and the way his breath hitched every time you clenched around him.

Chrollo was an enigma—a perfect blend of beauty and danger, control and chaos. As his hips drove into you, as his cock stretched you open, it felt like he wasn’t just fucking you—he was consuming you, body and soul. 

Unbeknownst to you, the atmosphere between you shifted. Chrollo’s quiet intensity was morphing into something far more dangerous, more consuming. He had been slowly releasing his bloodlust, the dark, primal energy that he kept so carefully locked away, letting it seep into the air around you, winding tighter and tighter. That unrelenting grip, those vicious thrusts—all of it carried the weight of the hunger he had been holding back. And now, he was letting it loose on you, intensifying every touch, every thrust, making your body quake with an overwhelming surge of pleasure mixed with fear.

His gaze, once icy and detached, was now wild, unhinged like he had finally given in to the madness swirling in his chest. You barely had time to catch your breath before he moved, yanking you down from the glass, flipping you over so quickly your world spun. Your body was slammed down onto the cold tile floor, your face pressed against the wet surface, your ass raised high for him. The hard tile bit into your skin, but that pain was nothing compared to the sheer force with which he took you.

"Chrollo…!" you cried out, voice breaking as his cock drove back into you, filling you with a brutal intensity that made your body arch in response. “Please—ah! I can’t—!” Your words were cut off by a sharp gasp as he thrust deeper, harder, slamming into you like he was trying to break you.

His hands gripped your hips tight, fingers digging so hard into your flesh you were sure he’d leave bruises, but the way he was fucking you, the way he was completely losing control, made you forget about everything else. All you could feel was him—his cock stretching you, filling you, the thick length dragging along every sensitive spot inside you, forcing wave after wave of pleasure to crash over you.

The atmosphere around you grew heavier as if the very air was thickening with an oppressive force. You could feel it—the surge of Chrollo’s Nen, leaking out of him uncontrollably, intertwining with yours. It was suffocating, pulling you into an emotional maelstrom as his aura pressed down on you, its weight forcing submission, forcing surrender. Every movement, every thrust became not just a physical act but a spiritual one, his essence penetrating you deeper than you thought possible.

His silence was deafening. There were no more commands, no words at all—just the frantic, almost desperate way he was fucking you. His grip on your hips tightened, nails digging into your skin, and you knew he was unraveling.

Your face was crushed against the cold, wet tile, and all you could hear was the steady crackle of it shattering beneath the intensity of his thrusts. Each violent slam of his hips echoed through your entire body, the sound of the breaking tiles mingling with the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies colliding. His cock was relentless, stretching you, filling you to the point of madness, the slick squelch of it plunging into your soaked pussy resonating through the room, the kind of sound you swore Shalnark could hear down the hall.

His thrusts were so brutal, so animalistic, that the glass door of the shower shook violently, rattling in its frame with every slam of his hips. You were sure it would shatter under the force of him, but you couldn’t focus on anything except the feeling of him inside you—huge, thick, and unforgiving. Every inch of him was pulsing, throbbing, pushing you to the edge, over and over again, until you were lost in a haze of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

Your body betrayed you. You had already lost count of how many times you came, the sheer force of it each time tearing a scream from your throat. Your legs shook uncontrollably, barely able to support you as your body was wracked with pleasure, your pussy clenching around him as you shattered again and again, completely at his mercy.

But then something changed. His thrusts became erratic, and wild, as if he was losing control. You couldn’t see him—your face was pressed too hard into the floor—but you could feel it. The raw, frantic energy that was consuming him, making him shake, making his aura explode around you. It was like he was breaking apart, piece by piece, and as his thrusts became more violent, you felt something wet hit your back—not water from the shower, but something warmer, something more human.

He was crying.

Silent, desperate tears that spilled onto your skin as he drove into you with a force that felt like it was tearing him apart. His body shook, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps as he fucked you harder, faster like he was trying to purge every emotion, every fragment of grief, anger, and despair that had been buried deep inside him.

His hands were trembling now, still gripping your hips with bruising force, but there was no control anymore—just pure, unfiltered need. He was an animal, his aura swirling chaotically, enveloping you both in a whirlwind of intense emotion, his spiritual energy mingling with yours until you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began.

The cracking tiles beneath you splintered further, breaking under the sheer force of him slamming into you, your body a trembling mess as another orgasm tore through you. Your cunt clenched around him uncontrollably, your cries echoing in the small space as you felt your aura give way, bending completely to his overwhelming power.

His body was magnificent—every muscle in his back and arms rippling with tension, veins bulging under his pale skin as sweat and water dripped from him, his chest heaving as he struggled for breath. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, the strands falling messily over his furrowed brow, but his eyes—those usually cold, calculating eyes—were broken now, overflowing with something raw, something vulnerable.

The tears kept coming, mixing with the water as he pounded into you, his cock throbbing inside your soaked, swollen cunt, stretching you beyond your limits. His jaw was clenched tight, lips pressed into a thin line, but you could feel the silent sobs wracking through him as he gave in, completely losing himself in you.

You could barely speak, barely breathe, the intensity of his aura crushing you, forcing you to take everything he had—every emotion, every thrust, every ounce of grief that was pouring out of him. You came again, your body convulsing as his Nen washed over you, the sheer force of it pushing you beyond the edge, making your entire being tremble with the overwhelming ecstasy of it all.

His cock twitched violently inside you, and with one final, brutal thrust, he let go—completely. His aura exploded around you, suffocating, consuming, as his body convulsed, and he came deep inside you, filling you with a hot rush that seemed to burn through your entire core. You cried out, your voice broken and raw, your hands gripping the shattered tiles beneath you as he spilled himself into you, his body trembling uncontrollably, the last remnants of his control slipping away.

Chrollo’s head dipped close to your cheek, his breath labored and uneven. You felt the wet warmth of his tears, pure and unchecked, streaming down his face, mingling with the sweat and water. He pressed his pelvis hard against you, his cock still buried deep inside, as his body shook with the overwhelming combination of pleasure and grief. "Fuck... I didn’t know it could feel like this," he muttered hoarsely, tears falling faster as he cursed himself for not doing this sooner. Your swollen cunt, so tight and soaked, gripped him like nothing else, and the pain of his loss only heightened the pleasure.

Both of you slumped on the floor, bodies spent and battered, as you drifted in and out of consciousness, your vision fading into white. Yet even in that haze, you felt the soft press of his lips on your forehead, his inky black hair falling over his intense, sorrowful gray eyes, and the cross that was etched into his temple. Your ass burned from the groping, the slaps—red and tender from the roughness of his touch.

"We should have done this sooner," he chuckled lightly, his voice soft as he checked over you with a tenderness that felt almost foreign after what had just happened. His thumb gently stroked your sensitive clit as he pulled out, offering a soothing touch despite how completely wrecked you were. And then, as you lay there, utterly spent, his quiet laugh made your heart flutter, the faintest spark of life in the aftermath of your shared devastation. You had given him something, even if just for a fleeting moment—a solace that ran deeper than words could express.

Your head turned weakly over your shoulder, and you were met with his lips, soft yet firm as they captured yours in a brief, gentle kiss. "My sweet girl…" he whispered, his voice laden with a mix of affection and exhaustion.

Extra <3:

Shalnark barely glanced up, but the moment he caught sight of you, he raised an eyebrow, his expression deceptively serious.

"Whoa," he said, spinning around in his chair to face you fully. "You okay? That shakiness isn’t normal. We should probably get you to a hospital."

Your cheeks burned, and you shot him a look. "I’m fine," you grumbled, trying to sound more composed than you felt, but the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Shalnark, of course, wasn’t fooled. His lips twitched, holding back a grin. "Uh-huh," he nodded sagely. "Sure you are." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "But, you know, if you start feeling faint or anything, just let me know. I’ve got connections with a great nurse!"

You couldn’t help but glare at him, though deep down you knew he was just messing with you—probably having the time of his life after what he undoubtedly overheard and felt...

© eyesofbong / Do not plagiarize my work. If you see this content on any account that is not mine, please report it.

[imagobin]

HxH Poster day 12: Chrollo Lucilfer!

I'l not used to drawing Chrollo at all haha I do love his character though, especially now knowing more about how he got to where he is now, seriously, all of HxH's antagonists are so wonderfully written

I'll be focusing on making the other spiders in the following days!

[cafejulii]

I was scrolling through instagram and came across that one scene of Kurapika repeatedly punching Chrollo while on route to make the trade off with the phantom troupe, a scene that though is not canon in the manga nor 2011 anime, is in hxh 1999. I went to the comments to see what others had to say on this addition, and was disheartened to find many fans unanimously coming to the agreement, especially because of this particular scene, that the main difference between Kurapika's characterization in 1999 vs. 2011 is that he's fundamentally "more childish" or "isn't able to keep his anger repressed as well"; rhetoric that I personally couldn’t disagree with more, respectfully.

I must say, they are correct about one thing though, in my opinion; Kurapika in the 1999 version is indeed characterized differently. All of the main four are. Its actually one of the main reasons why I prefer hxh 1999 despite not it not being fully accurate to cannon with the addition of several non-canonical scenes and dialogues. Such scenarios looked upon the original narrative given, estimated what would be the missing pieces in between in order to get to the current picture, and then used a combination of both the filler and original cannon to create characters who are consequently much more dynamic than their original counterparts. All the creators have done was really just set off on a proper set of chain of events in the plot to follow their development.

(In short, hxh 1999 is akin to a very well written, cannon compliant, fanficton with a very specific focus on character study through its additional scenes)

This is one of the many reasons why I find this scene particularly meaningful, as it serves as a direct expansion on Kurapika's characterization. Kurapika is the sort to scrutinize every action he makes based on his self imposed moral structure. We see this aspect of him made clear in the hunter exam, in which Leorio asks him if he's really willing to go to the depths it would take to become a blacklist hunter, knowing this fact about him just simply from the way he talked about hunters, and why, he found becoming a hunter just for the money, unjust. Kurapika, in response, assures him, that he will do anything, no matter if he deems it morally impermissible, if it meant to find and enact his revenge on the Spiders. However, when it came time to follow through with his statement, there is an inherent hesitation made or a flat out failure to act upon it. The very first instance of this is seen when it came time for him to kill the prisoner in trick tower so that he may advance past the third phase of the exam, resulting in a further advancement to his goal as quickly as possible.

He flat out refused to do so, despite it being the easiest most logical thing to do. The man was knocked out unconscious after all. And of course, Kurapika did state that he'd be willing to do anything. So then, why didn't he do it?

Because to him, killing in any circumstance is wrong. He creates a moral paradox for himself:

Cause of Revenge= morality->guilt-> duty

Execution of revenge= duty-> abandonment of morality-> guilt

And moreover, he is horribly self aware of this fact. He knows that discarding pieces of morality for the sake of his mission will fundamentally change him. His duty will never bring him peace and he knows it. In fact, it is the opposite, for he knows it will torment him relentlessly to the point in which he either breaks, or instead, he will become apathetic to it all. The later is the result he strives for though, as to follow through with his mission, he needs to be complicit in the face of evil.

But throughout the narrative, time and time again, it is evident that such moral sentiments never leave him. Sure, he works as a body guard for some of the most notorious criminals in the underworld, so rotten that Melody even goes as far to describe them as "devils", but fails to abandon his paradox. For Christ's sake, he even said in this particular version, that he found the sounds of pain Uvogin made while dying to be so abhorrent to the point, he couldn’t fathom how Uvo does it does it at; nonetheless without feeling any form of remorse. Kurapika loathes violence so greatly that he feels revolted in partaking in it, even if it is towards the person in which inflicted violence on him first. This displays that, to an extent, he held pity for Uvo, not in the sense that he regrets his actions but in the sense they had to be done at all, yet bares this sin for the sake of his brethren. But at the heart of it, especially since so little was gained for his overall mission, he falls to the gripping weight of his actions due to the breach of morality and it overtakes him for a brief moment.

But afterwards, he must carry on regardless if he likes it or not. He must continue up until the point in which he feels indifference to every morally abhorrent thing he has to do for the sake of his mission. Yet of course, he is not there yet, and because of this it only rightfully expected that his anger would boil over due to his moral turmoil, only for him to retreat in a sort of shame directly after doing so, realizing this part of the cycle he signed up for.

And this is why he rages at Chrollo. It's simply a part of this said cycle.

He punches him repeatedly, not only for the murder of his people, but the choices that he had to make as a result of the slaughter; that he was forced to create this paradox and resort to vengeful duty in which can only be fulfilled by measures of violence. The repeated punches, to me, are not done for the sake of incapacitation or for killing Chrollo (after all he couldn't have as that would mean that Gon and Killua's lives would be lost and it's apparent he'd never allow that) but as to give the biggest "fuck you for being so senselessly violent and cruel that in order for me to enact a properly weighted vengeance for my people that I must become just as senselessly violent, just as senselessly cruel, as you are."

Utilizing violence to mourn against the use of violence; this act is the pinnacle of it. A genius, visual representation of his profound moral conflict created for the audience. This is why this scene was so impactful. This is why this scene was needed.

[ramielok]

[zecuki]

[chrollosbigdingdong]

Chrollo lucilfer

[chrollc]

“You look like you’re about to kill someone.”

PRINT AVAILABLE.

[dohii-png]

Chrollo

[bl00dalchemist]

Someone explain to me how Melody kept her shit tlogether.

[tr4fa1g3r]

[illubean]

Could I get headcanons for Feitan, Illumi, Leorio, and Chrollo falling for gn!reader who by all means seems like a strong, nuturing, emotionally stable individual but every once in awhile casually says or does smthin that makes people go "Oh you're a little fuckin nuts, actually"

(e.x.: Most of their D.I.Y. furniture is made of different kinds of bone, morbidly interested in the more gorey parts of their jobs, probably works in a field that allows them to be around the dead often like a taxidermist or a mortitian, highkey just unabashashedly a morbid little freak™️ whenever it comes up naturally in conversation but otherwise comes across as just an attentive lil guy you could bring home the average parents would love.)

HXH Men with a Morbid!S/o

Characters: Leorio Paladaknight, Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader

this is so me

Warnings: dead things and body parts and stuff

Leorio Paladaknight

being an aspiring doctor, Leorio thought that your knowledge on both human and animal anatomy was pretty useful

at first he didn't think much about your job and just assumed you were some type of doctor or biologist or something

he often asks you questions as he studies and you're a pretty good tutor

the first time Leorio realized you were kinda weird is when one day you were walking down the street and saw some roadkill

and you were like "aww too bad, the skin and bones are too damaged to harvest"

and you kept walking like it was normal while he was like ?!!??!?

or you guys were having a normal conversation and you say something like

"if you died i'd taxidermy you and re-articulate your skeleton so you'd be with me forever <3"

1 taxidermizing humans is illegal and 2 WHAT

he is cold sweating wtf did he get himself into

when he comes to your house for the first time and sees a bunch of bones, animal skins and wet specimens he damn near passes the fuck out

how do you just casually have dead things and remains around your house!?

AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU MADE YOUR COFFEE TABLE OUT OF CAMEL BONES?

he is freaking the fuck out and you're just like "dw everything is ethically sourced :D"

yeah he thinks you're a freak and he is too fearful to break up with you ever (not like he was planning to anyways)

Illumi Zoldyck

whatever drew Illumi to you had to have been some type of power

aside from that power, to Illumi you were relatively normal and had a good grip on your emotions which made you a perfect candidate

that being said he could care less what your job was, you'd just end up working for or with him eventually

when he started bringing you around the estate, you often sought out their guard dog Mike and Illumi couldn't think of why

that is until you came back one day with a human femur and bright smile on your face

"... where did you even get that?" "From one of Mike's victims. If I collect enough I could make a whole set of bar stools!"

he blinked at you and chose to ignore your statement

i mean, to each their own am i right?

so you have ah hobby, big deal

Illumi just thinks you're pretty normal personality wise until you randomly but casually drop information about what you do in your free time or have in your home

so now whenever he has a job Illumi calls you in for cleanup

you get to do.... whatever it is you do and there's no evidence of a dead body left behind, it's a win win

Chrollo Lucilfer

he couldn't care less what your job is because it's probably not worse than his 😭

he didn't really notice anything "morbid" about you until he asked about your jewlery

you wore things like resin caster bug pendants or bird skull earrings and stuff

he just assumed they were fake and you bought them because they looked badass

but then you told him you make it all YOURSELF

he is intrigued

he doesn't really question you past that because you were probably buying the bones and stuff somewhere (spoiler alert you're not)

what really caused him to think was when you casually just picked up a dead rat off the floor in some abandoned building you were exploring and suck it in your pocket

bro was so confused

"What do you need that for?" "To make a new necklace :3"

yeah now he knows that your odd taste in jewelry goes deeper than just that

he won't judge you though, if anything you're a better person than he is considering you don't kill things yourself

he is literally a murderer and a thief and has committed like 3467633788 crimes so he couldn't judge even if he wanted to

so now when he sees dead animals and what not he bags them up and brings them to you

he likes to sit in on your cleaning and making process

you seem like a perfectly normal and sweet person to everyone else but Chrollo knows about your freaky little hobby and it just makes him like you even more

Feitan Portor

I feel like for you and Feitan to even be acquainted you have to be part of the troupe

whatever you do outside of it is your business

buttttttt since you are his s/o and Feitan is probably homeless he crashes wherever you are

thus him finding out about your hobby and other job

out of everyone on this list he is the most interested

he too is a morbid little freak

he goes with you to find things and will help you with the cleaning/taxidermy or whatever process if you let him

what he doesn't understand though is why you don't just kill the things you want instead of hunting for already dead things

sometimes he will go catch like a squirrel or something and bring it back to you like a cat and tell you he found it like that

Fei baby. No the fuck you didn't

after doing what you're doing for so long you can tell what caused an animal to die but you wouldn't tell him that

he's just so cute and wants to be supportive of your hobby <3

[gojosprettyprincess]

"Come on, fuck me emo boy!" we beg in unison🙏🏼

[mlkinis]

Let us conduct a wonderful concerto!

[mirgothx]

The last illustration of this year btw

[starfishdrawz]

this is what happened

[hisokakissmeplz]

How adult trio gonna react with a reader who obsessed with their abs and muscular body~

absolutely in love

Hisoka

He's very physical anyways so having a partner who liked touching on him as much would be perfect for him

Teases you constantly about it

makes you feel them after he works out

Makes you rides his abs or his biceps before taking his dick

sometimes he won't even give you his dick at least not until you've soaked every other part of him

Just loves it

Illumi

He probably wouldn't understand why but is eager to please you

"Is my dick not big enough?" He'd ask sincerely when you suggested riding his abs (or anything else for future reference)

You would assure him that wasn't it and that you just liked his muscles

After an explanation he'd be very eager to try it out

Good luck because he ends up loving it and as soon as you cum on his abs he's knocking that pussy out

Chrollo

At the beginning of your relationship he was definitely very vanilla

And though he remains the gentleman he always was he has definitely become more needy in bed

He would suggest you riding his arms after noticing how you stared at him while he was working out

Your hands always finding a way to latch onto some firm muscle

After calming the red flush of your cheeks you agree

Of course it's amazing and afterwards he shows just how strong he really is