#of course this means falling into the usually-white-person-in-horror trap of hearing a strange noise at night and going to investigate

[anonprotagging]

no time to get and install security cameras today so in case of some asshole coming into the house to trash shit I'm sleeping with my blunt, prop, but still 3-solid-feet-long-of-steel-and-real-wood katana next to my bed FKJHDKJF

[mianavs]

Savior Complex

He stripped you of your lifeline but refused to let you perish

Chrollo x f!reader

a/n: some chrollo content for your enjoyment

tw: dubcon, imprisonment

wc: 2.1k

Stealing Hatsu from others was akin to eating for Chrollo Lucilfer. He did it to strengthen his abilities and spared little thought on how it affected his victims. To him, people were equivalent to puppets in that they could be used and discarded without a second thought. The only time he spared a thought for his victims was when their Hatsu disappeared from Bandit’s Secret indicating their demise. Chrollo likened it to mourning his victims despite the depravity behind the sentiment.

You were different, however, in more ways than one.

There was no other way to put it—you were a genius nen user. Without any formal training, you developed your ability to manipulate the minds of others. While other geniuses profited off their Hatsu and used it to rise the ranks of society, you were trapped by yours and used it strictly for survival. Bought by a Mafia boss at a young age, you practiced your ‘gift’ on anyone your master sent.

Everything changed when a new esteemed client of your master’s walked into your workshop. Chrollo’s original target had been your master’s rare treasures but, after hearing about your gift, he altered his plan and included your Hatsu. It was a riskier plan, showing up in person for a session, but to Chrollo your ability was worth it.

The first thing that caught his attention was the cold emptiness of the room. Concrete walls, harsh fluorescent lighting, and the smell of disinfectant and death pervaded the small room. You sat on one of the chairs in the center with two armed men on either side. You were a frail young woman in a dirty white gown and with equally dirty hair that lie atop your head in a tangled mess. You were obviously malnourished judging from your sunken cheeks, bony wrists, and knobby knees. The most damning evidence of your mistreatment, however, had to be the leather shackle around your ankle that was connected to a large chain and attached to the wall.

In spite of your dreadful conditions, you rose from your seat with the grace of a newborn deer and greeted Chrollo with a bright smile that caught him off-guard.

“Welcome Dearest Client and please take a seat.”

Chrollo was convinced your lilting voice could soothe a raging beast as he unconsciously lowered his guard and sat down in front of you. Warmth dripped from your eyes as they traversed Chrollo’s face while yours radiated a child-like innocence as you started to explain the process.

“I will look into your eyes for a minute to search your mind for emotions I can use to create your fantasy. Is that alright, Dear Client?”

“Of course, Miss—I’m sorry but I didn’t catch your name.”

Your eyes widened at the word ‘name’ while the men behind you shifted uncomfortably. “Um…name? I-I don’t know what—”

“What do other’s call you?” Chrollo interrupted.

“Oh! Then I guess I have multiple names. I’m called ‘You’, ‘Witch’, and ‘Woman’ so please pick whatever you prefer.” You stated and Chrollo started to assess your character and the situation you were in.

“I’ll stick with Miss for now,” he declared before initiating Skill Hunter. “Now, can you tell me a little bit about your gift?”

“Of course,” You were completely oblivious to the growing tension that radiated from your guards and started your explanation. “My creations all take place in the client’s mind but I am always present. They are crafted around positive emotions or memories that I find.”

“So these fantasies are all positive?” Chrollo’s voice successfully masked his disappointment.

“Yes,” you replied fondly. “I use my gift to make other’s happy even if it’s only temporary.”

“Oh…and how long do they usually last?”

“At first, I could only last a couple of minutes but after making a vow, I was able to create fantasies that lasted up to three hours.”

“And what vow is that?” Chrollo asked, genuinely curious.

“Loss of my sight if I ever stopped using my gift. My eyes have no purpose if I can’t use them to search people’s minds and create fantasies for them.” Your smile dimmed as you uttered those words while something akin to pity stirred inside Chrollo; however, it wasn’t enough to spare you.

“What a beautiful sentiment,” Chrollo’s honeyed compliment warmed your heart and your smile brightened once more. “Shall we begin?”

Unlike most of client’s you dealt with, Chrollo’s positive memories and emotions revolved around a group of people instead of jewelry, money, fame. Instead of the luxurious mansions, clear skies, and sandy beaches you normally created the setting of Chrollo’s fantasy was a junkyard city.

You distanced yourself from the client as you usually did and watched from afar. Chrollo greeted each and everyone of the group members but tears welled up in his eyes when a large muscular man approached him.

You panicked at the sight of tears until you felt a wave of happiness from Chrollo and your worries faded away. For you, these moments were priceless and made you forget the pain in your stomach or the weariness in your bones. Seeing your clients happy negated any unpleasant emotions you held against your master and gave your life meaning.

Other clients merely forgot about your existence or purposefully ignored you but Chrollo surprised you by seeking you out.

Where are you? I want you to meet my family.

A strange warmth settled in your stomach at Chrollo’s request and you emerged from your hiding spot. You approached him hesitantly until he reached his hand out causing you to freeze in shock.

“Is there something wrong?” Chrollo asked, confusion written all over his face.

“I-I don’t know. Client’s usually don’t want to see me…why do you?”

“I want to share some of my happiness with you. Is that wrong?” Chrollo’s smile dazzled you and before you realized it, hot tears prickled your eyes.

“T-thank you,” you cried. “N-no one has ever done s-something like this f-for me.”

You accepted Chrollo’s hand and interacted with his family as if the fantasy were real. After delving into Chrollo’s mind some more, you learned that the muscular man was actually deceased and focused on perfecting him for your client.

Like always, you wished your fantasies could last forever along with your client’s happiness but it was an impossible desire and your masterpiece started to crumble. The flaming red sky of the junkyard city turned to fuchsia, then pink, until it became a white void. One by one, the group members disappeared as well until Uvogin was the only one left. He bid Chrollo farewell with a toothy grin on his face before he too became one with the white void.

“I see it’s time to return.” Chrollo commented staring into the white void that was once his beloved city.

“Yes, I’m sorry it ended so soon.” You answered, lowering your head.

Suddenly, Chrollo’s hand grabbed your chin and you met his eyes full of emotions that went beyond your comprehension. “No, Miss, it is I who is sorry.”

You wanted to ask what he meant but your fantasy dissipated into nothing and you were kicked out of Chrollo’s mind.

Your eyes fluttered open to blood splattered walls and your hand lying on an old book held by Chrollo. Everything had gone according to plan and the spiders eliminated everyone in the building including your owner. As the Phantom Troupe hauled out the treasures located in the bunker, Chrollo regained consciousness and fulfilled the last condition of Skill Hunter.

“What…happened?” Your eyes widened in horror when they landed on your fallen guards lying in a pool of their own blood. “H-how?!”

Chrollo watched as you whipped your head around for help only to be met with silence. Your seemingly constant smile was long gone replaced with a horror-stricken face Chrollo was used to seeing on his victims—but you were no ordinary victim.

You trembled as you watched the old book in Chrollo’s hands disappear and darted to your feet in an attempt to run away only to collapse on the ground when your chain extended its entire length.

Teary-eyed, you looked up at Chrollo who decided he never wanted to see that terrified expression on your face ever again. He softened his own face as he crouched down next to you and dried your tears with his thumbs. Confusion replaced fear on your weary face and Chrollo sighed in relief knowing it would be easier to dispel confusion as opposed to fear.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this,” Chrollo apologized, before knocking you out in a fraction of a second. “But I’ll take care of you now.”

When you woke up to the black void that was your vision, a broken wail erupted from your chest that alarmed various voices in the room. You flailed your arms in front of you to see if you could at least make out their outline but it was to no avail. With your vision gone, the gravity of your situation pumped adrenaline to your limbs causing you to scramble to your knees and crawl on the bed only to fall out of it and onto the cold floor.

“Hey!”

“Are you okay?”

“Get the boss!”

The shoulder you landed on throbbed painfully but the ringing in your head from listening to disembodied voices you didn’t recognize was worse. Curling up into a ball, you clamped your hands onto your ears to cancel out the harsh noise but it was to no avail. A plethora of negative thoughts filled your mind only to be dispelled by a familiar soothing voice that overpowered all noise.

“Dearest Client?” You uncovered you ears and uncurled your body only to hit your shoulder on the ground once again causing you to hiss in pain. Warm hands gently lifted you up and you jerked from the sudden movement.

“Shhh it’s alright, Miss. My name is Chrollo Lucilfer and I’ll be making you happy from now on.”

“B-but my sight…my gift—” The soft bed surprised you as he sat you down on the edge. “W-what are you—”

His hands cupped both cheeks and turned your head forward. “I’m sorry about your gift but I promise I’ll use it well.”

“W-what…how did…I-I don’t—”

“Stay still for me…please.” You were captivated by the gentle firmness of his voice and did as he asked.

When the meaning behind his words hit, you wondered if your gift would even work in your current state. Before you could voice your doubts, however, the darkness that enveloped you turned lighter and lighter until it was a white void you would recognize anywhere. Splashes of color materialized until they formed your last creation—the junkyard city.

“This…made you happy?”

Seeing Chrollo again made your heart swell and you ran to him wanting nothing more than to see his features up close.  You took in his disheveled black hair, pale skin, and pools of grey and teared up from simply being able to see another person once again. Raising your hand, you touched his cheek and gasped from how real it felt being on the receiving end of the fantasy.

“Amazing…I-I can’t bel—”

Chrollo’s hand shot out and pulled you into his chest while his arms wrapped around your frail form possessively. His scent and warmth assaulted your senses making your head spin but Chrollo only tightened his hold pressing against your skin harshly. Overwhelmed by the sensations pulsating through your body, you clung to Chrollo not knowing what else to do.

“You’re mine now,” his voice rumbled against the sensitive skin of your neck. “I’ll be your eyes from now on.”

A chill ran up your spine as Chrollo’s mouth trailed kisses up your neck to your mouth. An uncomfortable knot started to build in your stomach as his tongue probed your mouth and pressed against yours. You gave Chrollo free reign over your body not because you reciprocated his desire but because you didn’t know any better.

Your entire existence revolved around pleasing others, so when your tainted fantasy ends and you return to your dark reality; you learn to accept your new role. Moving forward whenever Chrollo visits your room, you continue to let him do whatever he wants to your body by convincing yourself that it’s his happiness that is most important. So when he leaves you naked and trembling with a dull ache between your legs, your mind does what it has always done best—it makes things up to help you cope with your miserable life.

[wearesungreenmylove]

Spierfeld Week, Day 5, Prompt: Spooky/Ensemble

Word Count: 1117

Alex’s tumblr is @offwithmyhead​. Tagging @forrealjanya *if you want us to tag you don’t hesitate to ask!

The gang goes to a haunted corn maze on Friday the 13th, and of course something’s gonna go wrong. But maybe something else will go right

BRAM

Why oh why did I sign up for this?

And who’s idea was it to go to a haunted corn maze? Who even knew those were a thing?

The whole gang’s going: Simon, Nick, Leah, Abby, Garrett, and I. I think it was probably Nick’s idea to invite Garrett and I, as neither of us talk much with the rest of them.

I met Nick and Garrett in soccer the summer before my freshman year, after moving to a new town and a new school in an entirely different state. I was originally from Oregon, where it rained buckets and buckets every season besides summer, and even then there would be days like that.

On the first day of high school I must have looked so awkward looking for a place to sit that Nick invited me over to his table. And that’s where I met the most adorable person in the history of forever.

Simon Spier.

SIMON

I have no idea why I love haunted houses when I’m absolutely terrified of them. But here I am, at a haunted corn maze on Friday the 13th. I don’t think Haunted Carter’s Farms usually opens this early, but I guess they couldn’t miss the chance for more business.

The place is packed with high schoolers, jostling to get in, but I can already tell it’s only going to be more as the night gets darker, and I’m glad we decided to come before sunset.

We make it to the entrance just as the sun dips below the horizon. I stare at the swirly entrance of corn stalks and spiderwebs, a sudden fear gripping at my heart.

The actor at the entrance seems to sense my fear, and gives me a feral smile. “It’s now or never,” he says, shaking his lantern at me. “Turn back while you can.”

BRAM

What the proper fuck. I swear we’ve been in here for less than five minutes and we already had three people jump out at us.

A man wearing clown makeup is standing off to the side of the path, but when Nick, who’s leading our group- probably so he can get out of here as fast as he can- steps forward, he pulls out a chainsaw and it roars to life.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!?! WHAT THE FUCK?! WHAT THE FUCK!!” sreams Nick as he barrels past the clown-man, leaving the rest of us in the dust.

“OH MY GOD,” Leah is screaming, and the clown says something that probably took months to memorize, but I can’t hear it over the sound of my friends’ blubbering.

Another actor that I can’t see grabs my shoulder from behind me, and I let out a squeal that sounds like a child’s and grab onto the arm of the person closest to me, who just happens to be the wonderfully awkward Simon Spier.

“Holy fuck, why is he touching me? Why is he touching me?” I screech.

Simon laughs. “What did you think ‘full contact horror experience’ meant, Bram?”

The action has slowed down somewhat. There aren’t any actors around, anway. I hear Nick mumble inintelligible swear words under his breath from ahead, and Leah is blubbering about the clown.

The group slows to a stop at a fork. We all look left, then right.

“This is great,” Abby says, and she might be about to say more, but just then another actor runs out of the left turn of the corn maze. He is screaming unintelligibly, and he grabs onto Abby’s shoulders and shakes her violently before turning and running down the path we came from. She seems shocked, her body rigid, like she just came face to face with her biggest fear. I notice her shoulders are covered in fake blood from the actor’s hands.

“Maybe we don’t go left,” Simon says carefully as more screams erupt from the groups behind us.

“Yeah, maybe we don’t,” Abby agrees, her voice tremulous. We slowly begin to turn right.

“Maybe it’s a trap,” Nick says, his eyes flicking around in paranoia. “Maybe they send the actor from left so we’ll all go towards the worse thing on the right.”  

Garrett scoffs. “C’mon, Nick, don’t be ridiculous.”

My knuckles have gone white around Simon’s arm. Embarrassed, I let go of him.

He gives me a strange look. “Is it just me, or are the lights getting farther apart?” I look around, and it’s true- the themed creepy torches are becoming few and far between.

“Yeah,” I say nervously. Maybe Nick was right. Just as the thought crosses my mind, a low, creepy moan echoes through the corn maze. “Guys?” Abby sounds nervous. “We just passed the last light on this path.”

“Maybe we should turn back,” Leah says- at least, I think it’s Leah, I can’t see shit, I’m going totally off voices here- and we all make noises of affirmation.

A man in full prison gear stands behind us, at the last flickering torch. “There’s no turning back now,” He says, and the torch flares brighter, revealing a sickly toothless grin and the manacles chaining his wrists together. They lead to a large cannonball. It drags on the ground with a horrible scrrrrrrrrrrrape as he takes a step forward. I don’t know who starts screaming first, but soon we all are. I feel a hand slip into mine, and suddenly I’m being pulled along as whoever had grabbed onto me ran, sprinting away from the actor and down the path.

“Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Holy motherfucker of all that is holy we’re all going to die oh my god oh my god oh my FUCKING god I HATE YOU ALL,” a familiar voice screams- it’s Nick, definitely. “I’m never trusting you again, Simon! This is not fun! I AM NOT HAVING FUN!” Nick is yelling, and suddenly we are all standing on the outside of the maze.

“I’m going to kill you, Simon,” Abby says breathlessly, inspecting her shoulders.

“That was not fun,” Nick reiterates. “We all heard your childish cries the first time, Nick,” Garrett says, rolling his eyes and panting.

“That is the last time I go along with one of your “Simon Says” jokes,” Abby says. “This is gonna stain!”

I mean to say something, but my brain stops working the second I realize who’s holding my hand. ‘

It’s Simon.

He grins. “Happy Halloween.”

“This is officially the worst Halloween I’ve ever had.”

He squeezes my hand. “I’d say it’s fine, once you get past almost being killed and Nick screaming.”

“Hey!” Nick yells. “I heard that!”

Simon grins this stupidly ginormous smile, and I can’t help but fall completely and utterly in love with it.

I squeeze back. “Maybe you’re right.”