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after-witch · 2 years ago

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All That Is Real is Reasonable [Yandere Tserriednich x Reader]

Title: All That Is Real is Reasonable [Yandere Tserriednich x Reader]

Synopsis: You were looking to read a rare artist’s manuscript, and found your luck when the employee of a wealthy collector offers to let you read the real deal in his hotel room. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 2000ish

Notes: yandere themes, implied fate worse than death for people (not reader); art pretentiousness; link to the painting referenced in the fic

“I’m sorry, but that collection isn’t available to the general public.”

You press your lips together, a desperate attempt at a smile. The man in front of you does not look impressed. “But if I could just--”

“Ma’am,” the man interrupts, holding the side of his glasses to get a better look at you--or to intimidate you, like some sort of predator staring down its prey. You couldn’t decide which. “I’ve already informed you that it’s simply impossible for you to read the manuscript. Our collection is only open to certain academic institutions, and your credentials simply don’t suffice.”

The sting of his not-so-thinly veiled insult is quickly washed over with a heavy, overpowering disappointment. All this way. You came all this way for nothing.

“Okay.” Your voice cracks, and you clear it. You’re an adult. Adults don’t cry because they were told they aren’t allowed to see a copy of the personal letters, do they?

You turn around as quickly as you can, heading back towards the atrium of the museum. Your cheeks burn hot and you can feel your chest constricting. Don’t cry, you think--not until you get back to your car.

“Ah… miss?”

You freeze, almost stumbling over your feet due to the sudden stop. You hear footsteps from behind you, and turn slightly to see a man in a crisp black suit walking up to you. It looks like he followed you out of the library section. But why?

“I hope you don’t mind my eavesdropping,” the man continues. You said you were looking to read the museum’s transcript of Jean-François de Troy, yes?”

The man straightens up, as if he’s proud of what he’s going to tell you. “My employer is currently in possession of the real manuscript. He sent me here to arrange an appointment with the museum today to discuss donating the real papers to the collection--for preservation, of course. But perhaps… well, perhaps you would like to come see them first? My employer is an avid lover of the arts, and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind assisting a student in their research.”

Your eyes must look wide enough to set a teacup on, because the man lets out a short, easygoing laugh. You stutter out something like assent, and he only shakes his head in a good-humored way that puts you right at ease.

“Follow me.”

The hotel you follow the man into is swankier than anything you’ve ever seen in your life. Even the elevators are fancy, complete with an elevator attendant who politely asks the man which floor and holds the door open while you exit to avoid any unwanted auto-closures.

And if the hotel itself looked swanky, the room--or rooms, as this is not simply some dinky hotel room but a series of elegant suites--is practically a palace. Tapestries and paintings, bookshelves, antiques…

And then there is a man, sitting on a high-backed chair reading a book, who rises when the two of you enter. He looks at the man with something that seems to slide between them, silent but sure. A question, or confirmation of something. You can’t quite discern any of it, and the man next to you is merely dismissed with a nod of his head. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

The strangeness of the moment makes your skin prickle but all of that gets washed over by the sheer magnitude of the art surrounding you. And one painting in particular has you aimlessly walking towards it, eyes wide. It’s by the very artist you sought out at the museum. It’s a painting of a woman in an elegant blue gown reading in a window. One you had seen in picture books, but in person? It was bought by a private collector ages ago, and presumed lost…

“Do you think it’s pretty?”

Your body jerks, and you feel a little dumb for not realizing the man--Tserriednich, the man from the museum had said, but it’s best not to call him that unless he gives you permission--had walked right up to you while you gaped.

His voice has a touch of a sneer in it. Not enough to be rude, just enough to pick up on, especially given your already frayed nerves. You’re used enough to that--being dismissed in your field is nothing new.

“I… well… it’s… ” What do you say to someone with a hotel room stuffed with treasures worth millions--no--billions? When you glance at the man, you see a look, almost too subtle to be noticed, of annoyance. That you’re wasting his time and might as well leave. You can’t blame him. You sound ridiculous, stuttering over yourself.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s pretty,” you finally say, rushing out the words and feeling like your tongue has unstuck from your roof for the first time today.

Tserriednich raises his eyebrow. “No?”

Your gaze turns back to the painting, and you continue. “Well, no.” Your hand goes up to the painting, not touching, but gesturing towards the book in the woman’s hands. “See how the light in the painting is directed towards the pages? We’re meant to focus on the act of reading, not the woman herself.”

He stares at you, and it’s strange to say, but even the way he blinks feels judgemental. As if he wants you to notice the slow timing of each blink, the way his eyes seem to say: You are a silly thing. But you’re over-analyzing his body language, aren’t you? You’re being a stereotype of an art student, really.

He lifts his own hand, gesturing to the woman’s exposed back. “And yet he took the time to position the woman so that her shoulders, neck and upper back were displayed to the viewer, almost in the same highlighting as the book.”

You shake your head, a smile, a little laugh in your voice.

“You’re wrong.”

You’ve never seen someone visibly bristle before, but there’s no other way to describe the way that his back straightens up, or the way that his mouth sets itself in an impatient frown as you continue, jumping into something you’ve already argued about with professors and one not-so-patient teacher’s assistant.

“He highlights the shoulders, yes. But I think de Troy was tempting us--well, by us I mean his contemporaries who would have viewed the painting--for focusing too much on the implied sensuality of a woman being viewed in such an intimate moment.”

You take a quick breath, and you can’t help but get a little excited, voice rising, as you spill out the contents of your latest thesis on his work.

“Yes, her neck and shoulders are exposed, and yes the light plays on them…”

Your hands gesture over the left side of the painting.

“But look at how her dress and these curtains are almost the same color, like she’s being swallowed up by them. She doesn’t matter… It's the act of reading, the pursuit of knowledge, that we should be focusing on. If you focus on her prettiness, well. You’re wrong. Or… no,” you nod your head, affirming your thoughts to yourself. “Not wrong. But you’re missing the point--looking at the painting via the surface only.”

There is a heavy silence that follows. And you know you’ve spoken out of turn, and you wait for him to ask you to leave for being rude and combative.

Because Tserriednich is looking very seriously at the painting. Studying it. And then he is looking down at you, and something shifts in his expression. It’s so subtle, that if you weren’t always hyper aware of little details, you might have missed it. He looked at the painting with reverence, analysis, with a keen eye--and now he looks at you like a particularly troublesome thing that doesn’t quite fit. Did you talk too much? Too little? Or maybe you just came on too strong. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Sorry,” you mumble, eyes downcast. “I get a little carried away sometimes when it comes to art.”

“Art is your passion,” he says, and it’s not exactly a question. He’s looking you up and down in a way that feels too familiar. It makes you feel like the woman in the painting. You wish you didn’t leave your cardigan in your car--your shoulders feel exposed.

He huffs out a sigh, and whatever heaviness was there seems to lighten a little.

“The manuscript, then?” He nods in the direction of an open doorway to your left, and you follow him, eyes darting here and there to take in more of the art in the room. “What do you plan to do with your degree?”

“I want to publish,” you tell him. “I’ve got so many thoughts I want to share with the world.” You look around the library you’ve been led into, and it’s hard not to gape here, too. More art, shelves and shelves of books… and doors. Including a rather unusual door with a hefty electronic lock on the side. Something even more priceless than the paintings on the walls, perhaps?

While he heads off to a shelf, presumably to grab the manuscript you came all this way to see, you can’t help but take a peek at the book laid out on an ornate desk near the window.

“The Phenomenology of Spirit?”

He returns from the shelves, and there’s nothing in his hands, but you’re too distracted to really give it much thought. He has something like amusement on his face, and you know it all too well. He thinks you don’t know what you’re looking at and he will condescendingly explain it--in big or short words, time will only tell--to you.

“It’s by--”

“Hegel,” you interrupt. “I know. I’ve read it.”

This time, when his eyebrows raise, there is no annoyance but something much simpler. Curiosity mingled with a bit of disbelief.

You find that you like it. Who doesn’t love surprising someone arrogant, after all?

Your fingers trace over the cover--and you can see him bristle, out of the corner of your eye, and it’s only your inherent good nature that wills you to take your hands off his book.

“The spirit is never at rest but always engaged in ever progressive motion, in giving itself a new form.”

“And?” You can’t shake the feeling, when he looks at you, that he’s sizing you up. Maybe it’s a test to see if you’re worthy of reading the manuscript or something ridiculous like that.

You shrug. “I prefer Rousseau.” You don’t wait for him to respond to continue, reciting one of your favorite Rousseau lines. “Life is not breath, but action, the use of our senses, our mind, our faculties, every part of ourselves which makes us conscious of our being.”

He hums, and perhaps there’s something akin to approval in it, but doesn’t say anything more. And then he turns, gesturing towards the myriad of art pieces around you.

“What do you think of my collection?”

Honesty is not always the best policy, and you’d hate to be rude. His collection is expensive, sure. But that doesn’t mean it’s something you find particularly worthwhile.

“It’s… nice.”

“Nice?” He scoffs, and there’s another moment where you think he’s going to tell you to leave. But instead he looks down on you again, disdain mingled with seemingly genuine interest. “Explain.”

“I... can't say I see the appeal,” you offer. You don’t want him to make you leave, but--you get the feeling lying would be somewhere worse. You glance at the works, and think about the ones you saw in the other room.

“Most of them are so lofty, big, symbolic. Famous events.” You shrug, and try to meet his eyes, but something about him makes you want to look away. He’s too analytical. Like you’re an object or painting yourself, and he’s not sure if he finds you artistic enough to frame or deems you better left in storage.

“I find works depicting ordinary life to be far more worthwhile. Anyone can paint a scene from mythology, but…” You think back to the woman reading, to your favorite paintings depicting simple scenes. “Life's little moments? I find them more valuable than anything. The promise or disappointments of life, captured on canvas.”

You expect him to look angry when you’re finished, but instead he looks amused. He smiles.

“That’s cute. You don’t see the bigger picture in any of it, do you?”

It’s your turn to bristle now. “Excuse me?”

“It can’t be helped.” He’s too close to you now, and his hand reaches out and catches your chin. You find yourself blushing, terrified, and flattered at once. “It’s not in your nature to see the big picture. It’s simply impossible.. Not without someone superior instructing you, although even then, I’m not sure you'll be able to do more than parrot what I tell you...”

He turns your head from side to side, like you’re some sort of prize at the market. Finally, he speaks with a sense of decision. Only you don’t know what decision he’s made, and it makes your stomach turn. “Yes. I want to see more from you. I think you’ll be… transcendent.”

You get the nerve to jerk away just as he lets go of your chin. His words barely register with your heart hammering in your chest. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He ignores you. Instead, he turns, and walks toward that elegant door with the strange combination lock on it. “I have another collection.” There’s a thickness to his voice--a terrible anticipation. “I want your opinion on it.”

Your feet refuse to move. You know, somehow, that whatever is behind that door is not something you want to see. So you’ll decline. Easy as that, right? This really was a silly decision, to come here, to some eccentric art collector’s hotel room.

“I… think I’ll pass.” You swallow hard and tight. “In fact, I think I’ll get going.” Your legs seemingly gain the ability to move again, and you take a step backward. “I’ll try my chances at the museum again. I don’t want to waste your time. But thank you--”

He turns--just turns, a little, and stares at you with an expression that pins you to the floor.

He leans his head back a little, staring at the ceiling and cracking a smile. “It’s inevitable. It’s not like you can help it, right? You are what you are, even if you aren’t a complete waste.”

He finally does cross the room, and grips your upper arm with an ease that leaves you gasping.

“What--” Your legs do find the will to move, but you can’t get anywhere. Struggling doesn’t even budge him, and it’s like you can feel a hole burning in your stomach as uncertainty and realization of a bad situation flood into your senses all at once. You force your voice to stay steady, force your breath to come in slow. “I-I’d like to go, please.”

He doesn’t let you go. All he does is sigh and shake his head.

“Lucky you. That degree isn’t entirely useless. You’re much better than the others from this city.” A frown, to himself more than to you. He mumbles something, you can’t be sure what--you only hear the words shoulders and books and Rousseau. “But you need to be corrected on some things before I can be sure what to do with you.”

You think, as he pulls you toward the room with the combination lock, that you’d have been better off staying at the museum.

#yandere Tserriednich #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere x reader #afterwitch writes

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justin-peudeau · 1 year ago

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Oh yeeeeeeeeeeesss ~~~~

( I think you captured the essential of their character super well 😌👌)

I wonder what would be kakin prince ideal type? Prince like benjamin or salé-salé or tserriednich?

Like I said in the Rules, I only take requests with three characters (except for the Main Four), so I’ll only do the ones you mentioned.

Benjamin.

Benjamin is focused on his goals to the point he wouldn’t stay with someone he feels can’t assist him in the long run. It’s not that he would want to use them, it’s just his objectives are so ingrained in him that they would interfere with feelings of affection. He sees himself as the only one worthy of being king, so his partner would have to be fit for the position of his wife/lover/partner/whatever.

He's a man who doesn’t care about who he has to destroy in order to achieve his goals. While this is true regarding many of the princes, Benjamin has shown to be aggressive and arrogant, someone who needs/wants to be in control of the situation. He’s not an idiot, but he can be impulsive. At the same time, Benjamin can appear as a pleasant individual when he needs to, understanding the importance of appearances.

Taking all this into account, Benjamin would prefer someone with a sharp mind (not only for conversations), probably who would be affectionate only in private (somehow, I think a person who appears cold and dangerous in public would greatly interest him). He doesn’t want a fragile little lamb, but someone who can stand tall and is self-assured.

However, it’s also very possible that he would also want this person to be somewhat submissive (without appearing weak), who would work with him but also allow him to stay in command, to be the “alpha male”. It’s okay for them to stand their ground or put others down if they are provoked (in fact, Benjamin would like that), but while they can disagree with him, they can’t outright challenge him. Note that this isn’t anything related to sexism or the belief of being dominant in a relationship, it’s again due to his belief of being the one who deserves to be king and what this entitles for him.

Salé-Salé

Being someone who wants to enjoy himself more than anything else, it’s hard to tell if Sale-Sale would ever settle down with someone when he can have as many partners as he wants (as shown in the ship) and anyone who would want to stay with him would have to accept the fact he wouldn’t be loyal (as much as he would say that those people mean nothing and he’s just having fun with them). This is ironic since if he took someone as a serious partner (be as official girlfriend/boyfriend or spouse), he would want them to be loyal to him.

As for himself, Salé-Salé would want someone who shares most of his interests and hobbies, who can enjoy life (or, at least, who wouldn’t nag him with the matter of responsibilities and/or take care of those for him) and is fun to be around, so he wouldn’t want his partner to talk much (or at all) about more serious matters with him, as he would find them boring. While he’d much rather prefer that his partner enjoyed parties (especially the kind he enjoys), if they showed they can have a good time even if they don’t like those, he may accept it without much of a fuss. They have to like his music, though.

Due to the nature of his Nen Beast, it’s possible that Salé-Salé has a great desire to be admired and worshipped, so his ideal partner would always have praises for him, know how to make him feel truly special, and be ready to spoil him. Not in a material sense, I mean, he is a prince, but with affection and attention. Note that while this may make Salé-Salé sound childish, it is different when he is alone with someone he considers special: As much as he wants to enjoy himself, there are times when people have to acknowledge their “not-so-pleasant” feelings. Though Salé-Salé rarely does so it’s the fact he feels he could with this person that matters (there are always people around him ready to give him attention but someone who could make a relationship that feels real and substantial would make an impact).

Because Salé-Salé can be somewhat shallow, he would prefer a partner that looks beautiful and desirable.

Tserriednich.

This isn’t exactly a man looking for love or with whom an easy relationship is possible (or safe, if you ask me). Remember we’re talking about a sociopath who takes pleasure in making art out of the death of others. Tserriednich sees people as “useful trash” and “useless trash” and he doesn’t care much for the “ideal partner” because he never gave much thought about it at all. Due to this mindset, it would take someone special to stand out in his mind (let alone capture a long-lasting interest).

He would want someone strong, who can stand their ground and doesn’t back down easily. Until a certain point when it comes to him, it must be said. It’s okay if they are a little harsh or rebellious (it’s more fun this way), as long as they don’t cross a line. Actually, this prince may even prefer someone like this and who also plays hard to get (or outright rejects him at first) since the challenge would make his blood run.

This would have to remain in a way even after they are together: Tserriednich would want someone whose mind he can’t predict, someone who can keep things interesting, who can surprise him even after months of being together. This is somewhat related to what he said, that “two-faced” (women) can be cute. Note that despite this claim, Tserriednich still despises disloyalty in a partner.

About that, if he saw a person who is intensely loyal to someone else (to the point they may be famous for that), he would want to turn this devotion to himself. This is also important because of his… Hobbies. His partner doesn’t need to enjoy them, but they would have to keep their mouth shut about it.

Being intelligent is also very important (even more than power. Yes, this would be a nice bonus, especially if the person has an interesting nen ability, but intelligence comes first). This man has many interests, has read about several subjects and he would want someone who can discuss those with him. Remember, he has already said to despise ignorance.

While a sharp mind and sharp words would interest him, there would be times when Tserriednich would want his partner to act absolutely subservient to him (often when they’re alone). It should be said that this isn’t out of enjoying BDSM or anything of this sort, but out of far darker desires.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #succession war arc #black whale #benjamin hxh #salé salé hxh #sale sale hxh #tserriednich #head canon time 😎#prince x reader

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sleepynoons · 22 days ago

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DIE 4 YOU BY DEAN – kurapika kurta (hxh) x gn!reader, lovers to enemies!au + canon divergence!au, nsfw / 18+

genre – angst, horror word count – ~4,400 warnings – manga spoilers, graphic descriptions of gore/blood/human anatomy, murder, references to body dismemberment, violence, major character death, slight suggestive content, explicit language synopsis – kurapika's methodical, thorough, determined. there are very few things that can throw a wrench in his plans. for instance, he doesn't expect you to get in his way. at all. notes – i cannot stress enough how dark this fic is - like ao3 dead dove: do not eat level dark. please, please, please read at your own discretion. there's gore, graphic descriptions of said gore and the human body and blood. also, IN NO WAY SHOULD YOU REPLICATE THIS BEHAVIOR IN REAL LIFE. DO NOT MURDER PEOPLE FOR YOUR HOBBIES. the reader is a psychopath and does fucking horrifying things like killing people for the sake of their own interest. i do not romanticize this behavior, nor do i condone it in real life in any shape, way, or form.

Kurapika’s never been happier to see Yorknew City. He should be more alert, with all the people around him, hidden alleyways and towering buildings perfect hiding spots to attack him from afar, but really, he can care less. He defeated Prince Tserriednich, and he’s made it out alive from the Black Whale – he can finally rest, with his brethren’s eyes safely at his side.

He walks up to an apartment complex, a little shoddier and older than the rest. Entering a pin code, the entrance door slides open, revealing a shaky elevator, an antique otis with rusted hinges and grimy metal plating, orange instead of black from a lack of maintenance. He steps inside and presses the topmost button marked with an “R,” and the door closes with an ear-grating screech.

Despite its battered appearance, the elevator flies up, cables pulling and spinning with sturdy force and propelling him upwards to the rooftop. And surprisingly, there’s even a bell that chimes when the elevator comes to a staggering halt. The screech returns, followed by a clang as the elevator shudders in its spot, before the doors split apart. Kurapika scrunches his eyes as he’s hit with a gust of wind. From this height, he can barely see the ground, the crowns of people’s heads no different from dots of paint. He walks to the edge of the box, presses another button that is colored blue, and he hears metal grating against stone. He peers out to see an iron ladder attached to the wall on his left unfolding.

With his right hand gripping onto the door pocket, Kurapika kicks a leg out, propelling and swinging himself out of the elevator so that he can easily catch a rung of the ladder with his left. He steadies his feet on a lower rung and hoists himself upwards. It’s a short climb, and he leaps onto the roof of the complex when he’s close enough. There’s nothing here, except for a tall rectangular unit.

Just like the ladder, the unit is composed of metal walls to withstand the loud currents of wind. Shielding his face with an arm, he paces, resisting the force of being swept away, towards a side of the iron box where there’s a bolted door.

When he steps inside the unit, he sees you sitting on the ground before an easel. Your wrists and forearms are smeared with paint, colors a little stale underneath the glow of the cheap light fixtures around the room. Your hands are wrapped around a thick and wide brush, but you’re not using it, simply staring at the large square canvas sat in front of you. You’re intensely scrutinizing your work, eyes tracing the streaks of azure and black striped over white. It seems you haven’t noticed him, so he simply leans back against the door and patiently waits.

Kurapika probably stands there for at least an hour. It’s hard to tell time in a confined box with no windows, and he doesn’t want to check his smartphone. But it’s a restful, satisfying hour as he watches you diligently work, making a few broad strokes before sitting back down, repeating this process over and over and over again. It isn’t until you run out of paint and you pick up a large tube of azure that he makes his presence known.

You’re using oil paint, there are no windows, and you’re not wearing a mask of any sorts.

He doesn’t want to scare you, though, so he clears his throat first before saying loudly enough, “You shouldn’t use that in here.”

You still startle, shoulders jumping slightly at the sound of his voice. Your head quickly swivels around, and he sighs with a soft smile as you yelp in surprise. Before he knows it, you’ve dropped both the tube of paint and the brush onto the floor and are racing over, arms stretched out above your head.

He catches you with ease as you jump towards him, his hands resting at your waist and under your thigh like always.

“You’re back!” you shout. Kurapika doesn’t respond, simply burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply.

He can smell turpentine, wood, and your shampoo. You wrap him in a tight embrace, leaning your cheek onto the side of his head, and the two of you stay like that, unchanging and unmoving for several more minutes.

But of course, Kurapika has to let you go so that you can clean yourself up.

“You can’t use oil paint in here,” he repeats as he brings you back down to the ground.

You gasp and begin to profusely apologize. “Oh, gosh, you’re so right! Sorry, Kurapika, I totally forgot! I just had this idea last night, and something in me just knew I had to use these new paints I got, and you know, since I –“

You continue to ramble as he gently guides you to the bathroom. He listens as he helps you rinse your hands, towels them off, leads you back to the living space, and sits down beside you in front of the easel. He enjoys the sound of your voice and your stories even more.

He’ll never say it out loud – not that there’s a need to because you both know –, but he loves you and your brilliant mind. The creative and childish wonder in his body has ceased long ago, but it’s not like he was that kind of person in the first place. But you (your ability to source inspiration from lingering glimpses of your dreams that are somehow at times as grotesque and tortured as his, the coffee shop you frequent every day, even the bare walls of this unit; the way you articulate your thoughts so cogently and transfer them through the languid motions of your palms and fingers as you guide the handle of a brush; the deep-set look in your eyes, because he knows you never stop thinking and imagining and dreaming) are so admirably different.

He feels so light-headed, lulled into delirium by fatigue, the soothing pitches of your voice, the gentle swipes of your fingertips against his forehead when you brush his hair out of the way, and this high sticks with him through the rest of the day. He doesn’t know how he does it, but it’s as if he’s stuck in a trance. The heat of the stove as the two of you cook dinner does nothing to stimulate him awake. If anything, he feels himself sinking deeper into this state as the two of you shower together, condensation and body wash sticking your bodies together, before tumbling into bed, your lips and slick smooth and tacky against his skin. You make his head spin in the most pleasurable and comforting of ways, and Kurapika thinks this is as happy as he can get in this life.

–

Kurapika stirs from the incessant buzzing of a phone. He squints at the light coming from the dining table and realizes that it’s a call from his. With a grunt, he pulls himself out of your hold, upset at the loss of your warmth, and pads over.

HIs annoyance dissipates, though, as soon as he recognizes the caller.

He hasn’t told you anything – you know nothing about his upbringing or his job or his ability to use nen or what he intends to do in the future –, so he has no choice but to slip outside, even if he knows you never wake without incessant prodding. But now that he’s less tired, he can think more clearly, and even in your presence, he can never be too careful.

“Melody, what’s going on?”

Kurapika thinks he’s lucky that the night is relatively still. He doesn’t have to scream just to have his voice heard.

“Kurapika.” Melody’s voice crackles through. “Are you in a good spot to talk?”

“Yes. Did something happen?”

“I know you’re exhausted, but I thought you would want to know as soon as possible.” Melody pauses, allowing Kurapika to brace himself, before resuming, “We looked through all of the prince’s belongings. We’re missing a set of the eyes.”

Kurapika thinks he’s been punched in the gut – no, actually, it feels as if his innards have been torn out of his body, and his tormentor’s holding them in front of his face, laughing hysterically at his shock and despair.

He doesn’t know how he does it, but he manages to croak, “How.”

“I counted multiple times, but there’s definitely one less than what you told me. I’m already looking into where the last set could possibly be.”

Devastation cannot even begin to describe what he feels.

As always, though, he needs to move. He cannot rest until all of his clan’s eyes have been claimed.

“Where are you?” Kurapika asks as he walks to the edge of the rooftop.

Melody sighs. “I’ll find you. Please, Kurapika, breathe.”

–

It seems, right before the Black Whale took its leave, Prince Tserriednich had made one last transaction. Though it’s not clear what he had received in exchange, he had sold a single pair of eyes to an unidentifiable individual.

The transaction was made online with a new user. Despite intense hacking and scavenging, none of Kurapika’s sources could find communication logs between the prince and this user, aside from the prince’s first and only message offering the eyes. That must mean whatever this person wanted to trade was so desirable that even Prince Tserriednich himself would buy it at the cost of two irreplaceable Scarlet Eyes.

Kurapika has been stuck in the same hotel room for days. He’s also been barely eating or sleeping. His haggard state must be significantly more worse than what he thinks because even his always disheveled master eyes him.

It’s been several days since Melody broke the news to him, and he’s made no progress since the discovery of the transaction. Any minute now, though, she should return from where the computer on which the account was made was located, and he’s praying that there’s some lead that he can work with.

The doorbell rings, and Izunavi gets the door on his behalf.

Melody can tell that Kurapika’s not up for any stalling, so even with a gentle cadence, she cuts straight to the chase.

“It was one of the computers located in the chemistry wing of a public library. I asked if anyone frequented there, but I was only able to get a list of high schoolers that attend a nearby school.”

“Interrogate them.” His voice is chilling. He can sense Melody and Izunavi tense at his demand.

His mentor’s the one to intervene. “Kurapika, they’re just kids.”

“You don’t know!” Kurapika yells. “There are children who are professional Hunters – hell, I became one at 17. You don’t know!”

“I already looked into them,” Melody speaks. He can hear the clicks of buckles being undone, no doubt Melody opening her flute case. “They’re innocent.”

He can’t hold back, seal, extinguish the curdling scream in his throat. “Then what do you expect me to do?!”

His anger is sedated by the warm and round timbre of Melody’s flute, a tune soft and slow, an adagio in the face of his collera. Try as he might – teeth piercing lip to draw blood, nails biting into calloused palm –, Kurapika cannot resist Melody’s nen, and he feels his body relax into the back of his chair against his own volition.

Melody does not sway despite Kurapika’s fury. She continues to inform him kindly and gently. “The others have decided to stay back to watch and follow any suspicious visitors. This might take a while, so I suggest” – she rests a hand on his shoulder – “you try to rest. Remember, Kurapika, breathe.”

It seems he’s always stuck in a limbo, the success of his singular, feasible goal always somehow managing to escape him. But Melody’s right. There’s nothing for him here, so he might as well go back.

–

While you know nothing about Kurapika, he knows quite a bit about you. He’s aware that you’re an aspiring artist , you have a distaste for green bell peppers, and you have a weird fascination with colors. In fact, concerning that last point, you’re very specific and precise with your colors. Kurapika’s no art aficionado, so he doesn’t get it at all, but for each painting, you spend most of your time constructing and mixing and swirling the exact palette of hues you plan on using.

This time, when he comes back, you’re on the bed staring at an open notepad and a large color palette in your lap while balancing a graphite pencil with an upwards quirk of your lips. You spot him instantly, so there’s no delay between Kurapika stepping into the room and you hopping onto him.

As always, you cheer. “You’re back!” You don’t comment on his appearance.

And as always, he breathes you in, smelling faint wisps of charcoal, eraser shavings, and laundry detergent.

“What are you working on?” he asks as the two of you pad over to the bed.

Before the two of you sit down, though, you twirl around with a beaming, excited look on your face. “Kurapika,” you yelp, “I’m holding an exhibit!”

He leans over to congratulate you with a kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations,” he says as he pulls away. He glances at the notepad, now sprawled on top of the covers, and says, “I’m guessing you’re drafting then?”

“Yes!” You begin to explain the theme of your gallery, something about how colors are perceived similarly, even by vastly different cultures. You explain how purples are usually associated with royalty, golds with wealth and prosperity, reds with sacrifice – it seems you’re very interested in the psychology that undergirds all of these relations. “It’ll be the central piece of the whole thing!” you exclaim as you gesture with your whole upper body.

“Will you let me come see the exhibit?” he asks once you finish.

You laugh, eyes closed and head thrown back. He loves it when you laugh like this – without a goddamn care in the world.

“Of course! When have I ever denied you?” you giggle.

After a bit, Kurapika excuses himself to take a shower. On his way to the bathroom, though, he passes by your oil paints. They seem a little flatter. He simply shakes his head, noting to remind you later to not use them inside again.

–

It’s quite rare for him to be at home while you’re out. And recently, you’ve been going out a lot, always leaving with a pep in your step, either going to speak with the exhibit manager or to a studio where you can paint without choking on fumes. There’s been no news from his colleagues either, so really, Kurapika’s never felt so aimless or restless in his life. He considered taking on a few brief missions, but he was sternly told off by Leorio to “just be.” Usually, he has no qualms about defying Leorio’s desperate pleas, but given that his friend really saved his ass on the Black Whale, he has no excuse but to listen to him for once.

Kurapika alternates between sleeping and reading books. He never realized how many books you had in this unit. Now that he thinks about it, this place is practically all yours at this point. He owns this place – bought it as a shelter – but had asked you to move in here out of concern for your safety. At the time, he was still hunting down the Spiders and was afraid they’d target you. But in this bleak, isolated space, you’ve managed to create a brimming sense of life.

Anyway, Kurapika comes across a row of environmental science textbooks you’ve stored in a cupboard meant for mugs and glass cups. He’s not surprised when he sees all the dog-eared pages and sticky tabs jutting out of it, but it’s strange that you’re reading such things. He never knew you were fond of science.

But there’s nothing better to do, and Kurapika would take any opportunity to learn more about you, so he thumbs through one of the textbooks, spending extra time chuckling over the pages you’ve practically made illegible with your penned annotations and doodles.

–

Melody doesn’t contact Kurapika until three weeks later. Basho had been tailing a man and arrived at a theatre four towns away. Apparently, during Izunavi’s and Melody’s shifts, they also followed separate library-goers to the same place. Though there was never a specific time or frequency at which these visitors came and went, they always sat at the same computer, reading up on the same topic of odorants. After some digging, it turns out the theatre is home to a collective of Fine Arts Hunters.

Kurapika wastes no time in reconvening with his colleagues at another hotel. After thorough investigations, he learns that, though the collective is large and a community for many musicians, artists, writers, and more, there’s a sub-group of members who’d go to extreme lengths to collect their desires, whether that be specific artworks or coveted tickets to ballet shows or even artists themselves. When he learns about this, a chill runs down his spine. Kurapika almost wishes that you won’t make it big, so you won’t ever be in such danger.

The next step then is to find the specific member who placed the transaction. Melody is more than happy to take on this infiltration mission.

“It might help me locate the Sonata of Darkness. I’ll report back soon.”

While it’s impossible for his anger to subside, even by the slightest degree, it’d be remiss of Kurapika to not feel immense gratitude and appreciation for his colleagues. Not only did he drag them into the succession fiasco, but he’s also now bringing them into his personal business. It’s almost ironic, really. Kurapika doesn’t like involving those that are important to him in personal matters, whether that be out of safety concerns or fear of betrayal, but it seems receiving aid once in a while can be immensely gratifying and beneficial.

Kurapika spends the next two days waiting for Melody’s return. As promised, she returns swiftly. Though she has no name, she is completely confident with her information.

“They’ll be at the exhibit.”

–

You don’t expect Kurapika to come home in the middle of the night. It’s not that you usually know when he comes home, but rather, you know he cares for you so much that he’d rather sleep outside than come back in the middle of the night with the risk of disturbing you, even though that’d never happen.

The unit is dark, aside from a single lamp that stands beside you. There’s also a stool placed next to your canvas, the largest that you’ve ever worked with, and your reference placed on top of it. It’s normal – and actually very encouraged – for artists to use references to aid them in their work.

You look at Kurapika’s frozen expression.

“Kurapika! You’re back!”

There’s no jumping into arms or tight holds on each other’s bodies or deep breaths of each other. You realize, then, scattered around you, on the floor, are several uncapped tubes of oil paint.

You scramble and fumble with your apology. “I-I know you said to not use oil paint inside, but you know, my exhibit’s in literally two days, and I’m still not happy with this painting, and –“

“Why do you have that.”

It’s not a question.

You can’t answer, regardless. You’re confused, so instead, you follow his line of sight to your reference.

“Oh, that?”

You drop your brush onto the ground, paying no mind to the smears of burgundy against the stone floor, and walk over.

You’re always mesmerized when you look at it. You mumble, feeling yourself entering an entranced daze, “It’s my reference. They’re really pretty, right?”

You have no idea what’s going through Kurapika’s mind. You’re no longer paying attention to him, so you can’t see the way his face contorts and distorts. You can’t hear the roaring in his ears or the pounding of his heart or the terrified, desperate, furious scream that is itching up from the pit of his stomach, up his esophagus, threatening to spill forth from his pharynx.

All you can think about is the red of these Scarlet Eyes you managed to get and how you want to replicate the same red in your painting.

“You know,” you whisper, hands delicately stroking the canister that holds the eyes, “I can never seem to get the right shade. But that’s because it’s not just red. There’s… gold, some flecks of hazelnut… For once, I can’t even describe a color with words…”

Kurapika swallows thickly.

In as steady of a voice as he can manage – which is not at all, so his voice just sounds low and is only a little louder than a grunt –, he grits, “Why do you have that.”

This time, you look up. Again, you don’t comment on his appearance. “I told you, it’s for my painting.”

“I didn’t know you were a Fine Arts Hunter.”

You startle at this. “Kurapika,” you gasp, “are you a Hunter, too? I didn’t know!”

“Answer the question.”

“Yes!” you chirp. “But just collecting is no fun, you know?”

“What do you mean.”

You shrug. “Well, I’m an artist, too, so I want to create the very paintings I want to collect! It’s a little weird idolizing those of my own kind.” You say the last part in a whisper, as if it’s some inside joke or reference that he’s supposed to be understand.

Kurapika knows he’s no damn artist. Now, more than ever, he’s glad that creative part of him, if it ever existed in the first place, is gone and dead.

“Why do you need those eyes.”

“You’re so interested in them. I can give them to you as soon as I’m done with them!”

He wants them now, but really, he wants them after prying it out of your cold, dead, rotting hands. Kurapika lurches forward, but you jump back in response.

“Hey! If you really want them, you can take them now!”

He lunges again, but you move away just in time again. This ferocious chase continues around the entire unit with you screaming at him to calm down while escaping his every attempt to catch you.

“Kurapika!” you yell, as you leap into the air, almost touching the ceiling of the unit. “I’m going to help calm you down, alright?”

He’s seething, but his combat instincts tell him to pay close attention at this very moment. “What are you going to do!” he shouts, frustrated that he’s missed you once again.

But before you can answer, Kurapika suddenly feels a sharp pain in his head, forcing him to still in his movements. You try to approach, but he backs away with every step you take, even though every movement makes him feel dizzier and dizzier. Eventually, he collides with the kitchen counter, where he can barely hold himself up.

“I’m a Transmutation nen user,” you explain. Kurapika doesn’t understand why your voice sounds so distant, as if it’s muffled by water or several compact cotton balls. But you don’t know that, so you continue explaining, “I can change the quality of air molecules, so I’m going to put you under for a bit.”

Kurapika can only manage to lazily look up at you. You’re chewing on your lip, guilt evident on your face. “That’s why it never really bothered me to use oil paints here because I studied how to neutralize the turpentine.”

That’s the last thing he hears before collapsing.

You scream in terror, running to catch him. But it’s too late as the side of Kurapika’s head collides with the sharp edge of the stone countertop. You hold onto his shoulders, preventing his unconscious body from slipping further down onto the floor, and you take off your apron to dab at the blood trckling down the lines of his neck and ears.

But that’s when you notice it. Or rather, that’s when it clicks.

You’ve always been annoyed at yourself for this, but Kurapika loves this about you. You’re so inconsistent, inspiration only coming in waves and bouts, but when it does hit you, you’re on a roll until you’re done. It’s frustrating, especially since becoming a professional artist usually necessitates having to consistently produce bodies of work to make a living, but it’s never been an entire hindrance.

Truly, though, you’ve never had as big of a revelation until now. You heave Kurapika’s body over to the lamp that is now lying on its side, most likely having been knocked over by your game of tag earlier. You swipe at his blood again, this time with a crumpled sheet of notepad paper, and you watch as the color blooms and spreads through the corner.

It’s not like you’ve never used blood, or the human body for that matter, before in your work. Now that you recall, the one who gave you the Scarlet Eyes made you create a series of artworks out of some dismembered body parts he had. You crinkle your nose at the recollection, having remembered how horrible of an experience it was given that man’s fetishes.

You come back to the thought of Kurapika’s blood, and you know that he’s what you need. Your artwork lacks the haunting depth of the red in the Scarlet Eyes, and no amount of blue or purple or brown can fix it. Kurapika’s blood, though, is already so vivid and striking against the cream of the notepad, and you have no doubt it will blend beautifully with the snow white of the canvas, as well as the other colors you already have painted on.

You make a mental note to check how blood reacts to oil paint. It shouldn’t change much in color or smell, you hypothesize, but you’ll have your friends look it up for you like always.

You lean down, kissing Kurapika softly on the lips.

In a loving, gentle whisper, you say, “You know, Kurapika? You’re always so kind and helpful to me.

Even in death.”

winter event masterlist

#hunter x hunter #hxh #kurapika #kurapika kurta #hxh kurapika #hxh x reader #hxh angst #kurapika x reader #kurapika angst #carrot cake!

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misscherrys-world · 9 months ago

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“His eyes are like angels but his heart is cold”

Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou x Fem! Reader.

Disclaimer: the title is actually a lyric from “Smooth Operator by Sade”

Warnings: smut, nsfw, cheating, daddy issues, no use of Y/N.

Tserriednich is in his 30s in this fic.

It’s a short one shot, tbh I can’t write long ones lol.

Everyone warned her, don’t trust the 4th prince. It’s said to not trust people who seems flawless.

But she saw everything her way.And life isn’t that kind, and sometimes it’s for your own good.

He was 30 and royalty. All the riches in the world would be hers. She was only 20 and naive. She wanted someone handsome or masculine enough like Tserriednich just to fix her daddy issues.

Tried to ask her friends for advice, the only thing they said to her was to stay away from him because he is involved in the shady world and he was the benefactor of the Heil-Ly Family.

He liked how her skin felt underneath his touch, how she gasped every time he slided inside her. He liked watching his cock stretching her pussy while fucking her in doggy style, her hair was pulled harshly between his fingers and how she whined when he was too harsh.

His eyes, something about his eyes caught her attention, was it something good? Was it bad? She was confused. Every single time when they leaned for a kiss she felt uneasy like something was off. Ignoring all the red flags, she received a text message one day from an unknown number, it was some strange woman’s picture half naked in Tserriednich arms. She understood why she felt something was off. How naive she is it’s not about fucking another woman, it’s about what comes next for that poor thing, and she didn’t have any idea about his “hobby”.

She confronted him that night, and asked why he’s having an affair with a “slut”. He stared at her with the same eyes she fell in love with and he said, “It’s none of your business, you better fix that attitude for your own good.” She stood there dumbfounded after a while she responded, “ Why are you so cold hearted towards me?” After that question her eyes betrayed her and tears started pouring out from them.

Once again, he stared at her, put down the glass of wine he was drinking and walked towards her, “Because sometimes you act like a spoiled child and I don’t have time for your bullshit.” He said very calmly while wiping one of her falling tears.

She went back to her suite in his enormous hotel after he dismissed her, punishing her to not step out of her suite or anyone to speak to her until he says so. He knows she couldn’t stand the silent treatment, he enjoyed seeing her suffering knowing he’s the one in control to stop it.

He called Mark, “Why did you send the pictures to her?” Mark apologized and responded “My apologies your highness, I was just worried about her.” Tserriednich chuckled “it’s not like you, Mark. Are you worried I’ll kill her?” Mark was silent, “I won’t kill your sister, she’s useful…” he ended the call with “for now at least.”

Poor Mark, he is scared for his little sister, what fate is waiting her with this monster…

#misscherrysworld #hunter x hunter #hxh manga #hxh #tserriednich headcanons #tserriednich #tserriednich hui guo rou

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thelovelyghostwriter · 10 months ago

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Answers are below:

AO3 Handle

This is easy. Numbkid.

It has been a pen-name since I was a kid. I was an emo kid who liked Linkin Park's Numb.

2. Ships I write

Currently, mostly Kuraneon. Occassionally there are other HxH pairings like Hisomachi, Tserriednich/Theta, Chrollo/Neon and Ponzu/Pokkle.

3. Ships I read

Pretty much anything I get curious about.

4. When i started writing

11 years old. That was more than a decade ago, even before AO3 was founded.

5. First fic I wrote

I did write something when I was 11 on FF.net. I did delete it because of the poor language use and the fact that it was cringe.

I did remember the title, it was "Can I heal your broken heart" which was a CoAi fanfic.

6. Favourite fic I wrote

There are a lot that I have written over the years. Just to name a few:

I like writing angst, so this is probably the most painful one. Also the longest one-chapter fic I have ever written (13K words).

I think this is my favourite Hisomachi fic. I really enjoyed writing them in a whimsical fantasy setting. It was also pure comedy and fluff.

My very first Tserriednich/Theta central fic, with Hisomachi and Kuraneon pairings as well. I had fun writing Tserriednich in a very psychological thriller type of way.

I loved writing Kuraneon hate-sex. There was something raw and hot about this.

7. Hardest fic I wrote

There were a few fics that were written with much difficulty, for various reasons.

The longest, completed fic I have ever written. It was difficult because half-way because I lost interest in Detective Conan as a series. I have always liked the CoAi pairing, but grew frustrated with how the series was going. Add on to my depression in the 2014-2016 era (this was written from 2015-2018) + adolescent teen angst + readers pressuring me to continue, and you get a recipe for disaster. Incredibly difficult for me to write given the circumstances. I also didn't think it was good and there were people complaining on Wattpad so I thought the efforts were in vain. I was so frustrated that I vowed never to write for this series ever again. Don't know if I'm gonna hold up to that promise but it has been 6 years, so I'm not sure if I'll love this series enough to write for it again. Maybe a one-shot, who knows.

8. Most research-intensive fic I wrote

This one is very obvious. The amount of stuff I had to learn to write how the mafia works in HxH and also how Nen works. Also the HxH world building. Whew. Very heavy stuff. It is paying off though.

9. Fic that is most dear to me

I am going with the first fanfic I have ever discovered.

This fic was first written in 2005, I discovered it just a tad a few years later. I was mindblown by the fact that people could just write about established characters and make up scenarios, lmao. It fulfilled my shipper desires that Conan and Ai would get together! Somehow after like a while, it inspired me to write my own fics. So this was the start of everything.

10. Favourite trope to write

I don't know, I don't really have a trope. There are common things I liked exploring:

Mafia theme

Greed and money

Desires and Death

Sexual temptation

Psychological thriller

Occassionally I do write the happier fics and I think I can pull it off, but that's not where my interests lie.

11. Something I wouldn't write

Hmm... I don't have boundaries, I think? I love exploring different genres, themes and even the most messed up situations. I like dark fics, I do want to write thrillers.

Probably just fics about real people. Like those celebrity fics, like those "my mom sold me to One Direction" or something. It's just weird writing about real people for me.

I also don't really do requests anymore. I would hate to write a ship that I wasn't 100% on board with.

12. Favourite scene I ever wrote

Hmm, this is quite tough. Probably the part where Theta reads a letter from Tserriednich in "Like Turkeys Voting for Christmas".

Dear Theta, The newspapers told me about your tremendous error that led to the chaos during Sara’s winter concert - how an exhilarating event had burst into madness. Pity poor Sara though. Once was a bright star among the upper echelons, had fallen so gracefully in a blink of an eye. I fantasise that you wonder before going to bed if that error was an unfortunate anomaly, or had been stuck to you like an inherent gene. Like Sara, millions of individuals undergo their life like an inverted curve - the struggle to go up and then come rolling down the hills. Do you find it humiliating that you, once a trustworthy royal head bodyguard, had been demoted to a security for a talentless celebrity rumoured to had fucked her way up to the top in Hollywood? And more so that even in this meagre position, you had failed? Do you believe that failing your career in protecting your client, would be equivalent to having failed to save the inner child wailing deep within yourself? I would reassure you, my dear Theta, that you are competent. A fine specimen of the female human species. Which is why I had no doubt of choosing you to watch my back. It is unfortunate however, that you chose to stab it. Why would you do that, my dear Theta? We were having so much fun - our intimate bantering had been forever etched to my memories. I had often backtracked at which pinnacle moment my behaviour became intolerant for you: you had always turned the other cheek whenever a new collection of mine was delivered; and the personal matters of my fucked up royal family had been more or less familiar with you. The screams of women getting out of their shells never fazed you either. Somehow, you believe that me unlocking the powers of Nen would be a Pandora’s box; and that was where you drew the line. But really, who are you to deny me my potential? That is the riddle that has perplexed me. The temptation to open your mind and pick on the neurons for an answer is too high, but I digress. Needless to say, an utter disappointment when you decided to take the role of Delilah, attempting to defeat the lion that she feared would devour the world. Has it ever occurred to you that your role in the narrative would not be against me, but besides me? Did you fear that I would have disposed of you after learning Nen from you, dispose of you like the poor trash that you think you are? If that is so, you have greatly underestimated my generosity. With my sibling, the self-proclaimed winner, had met the untimely death, the Kakin throne had been left vacant. I think it's time for me not only to rule, but my bloodline for eternity. Join me, Theta, this is my offer to you. Since this time of the year is to celebrate generosity, companionship and forgiveness, I propose both of us do the same. Allow me to show my generosity by giving you something that few had done: justice. The King might be the most important piece, but the Queen is his most prized protector. Once somebody has offended you, they have done the same to me. You spent Christmas by yourself last year. I will be sure that this year will be different. Until then, please enjoy the gift I have sent you. Some animals really need to keep their hands to themselves. - Prince Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou

Then she finds a severed hand inside the gift box sent to her. The hand belonged to a man that tried to molest her earlier in the fic.

13. Where I get inspiration from

Pretty much anything, depending on the topic. Sometimes I just go like "hey I got an idea!"

14. Hardest scene I ever wrote

So far the argument between Kurapika and Neon in the latest chapter Glam Gas Land in Strange Bedfellows. I wanted to write an argument where both of them had a valid point.

15. Favourite characterisation I wrote

Always Kurapika. He is SO fun to explore. I love writing him a good ol' angst scene. I think the angstiest I have him in is "The Rabbit Died".

16. Sequel I would write, if I had the time

There are two.

One was the "Neon Nostrade is a Pop Star/Idol AU". I wrote "In Star-struck Awe". The sequel was supposed to be this:

I only wrote the first chapter. But this sequel was supposed to be the story where the media finds out that Kurapika and Neon are dating. I plan to make changes to both fics and set it to the 2000s. I want to make references to the 2000s music industry scene, mixing up Neon's Pop Idol character with Britney Spears, Paris Hilton etc. The 2000s were also very brutal to famous female celebrities, so it will be a fun fic project.

Another sequel I planned to write was from "Black Veil". I have not posted the fic sequel yet, but I plan to expand from this. Since in Black Veil, Kurapika finds an alternate universe where he got married to Neon and had kids, with the Kurta clan still alive. Since he got back to his own world, he explains that Neon is actually in the ICU where nothing can wake her up. There is a plant in the Dark Continent to cure all diseases. So I want to write a sequel on that.

17. Story I wanna write, but don't think people will enjoy reading

I think just really dark fics. For Kuraneon, I kind of wanna write another dark fic with the tag "infanticide". Go figure.

I also am tempted to write a Gin/Sherry fic. I don't know, I think this ship is dark and interesting.

18. A line from a WIP

"Kurapika had enquired to one of the townsfolk for The Owl's location"

19. A recent comment that made you smile

Pretty much any comments from @anotherworldash ! She has very long comments that made me smile so much!

20. A discontinued work that I would have loved to finish

There are two.

Of Marigolds and Dragonflies.

This fic was a Hiei/Botan fic that I have abandoned. I made the mistake of having to post more chapters, when it could be a standalone one-shot fic. It begins after 1 year of death anniversary of Hiei and Botan's unborn child, and they have broken up over it.

I actually had a good vision for this fic, but I kinda moved onto another fandom. Perhaps I can just post the first chapter of the fic, I think this is a good standalone.

The Outsiders.

The other fic is this one. It's a crossover fic between Detective Conan and Tokyo Ghoul.

I had this idea of Conan being a detective and going around to solve ghoul-related cases. But alas, I kind of got tired of Detective Conan; so I dropped it. Once in a while I see CoAi content for my own amusement, but I'm sort of done writing for it. Don't know if I'll pick up this idea again.

21. Fic writers I admire

I think I admired a few of them back when FFnet was still the norm, but they stopped working on fanfics.

22. A story I recommend

After Hours by Cb_w.

A story by @anotherworldash

A Vampire AU where Neon is a vampire and Kurapika is a vampire hunter.

The Sleeping Beauty in the Bathtub by Cb_w.

Definitely one of my fave darker Kuraneon stories.

#kuraneon #kuraneo #most fics are kuraneon but some are hiei/botan and coai

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progg · 1 year ago

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Clarifying Chapter 400

Hi all. Sorry for the hiatus (ha). I’ve been working on some other projects (including my own comic!), but I haven’t forgotten about this blog. I hope to finish my chapter breakdowns and, if I have time, go back and edit some of my older essays. I’ve also got some essays on the backburner (some have been there since the conception of this blog) that I hope to finish some day.

For the time being, here’s some clarification about Chapter 400 of Hunter x Hunter, since some readers seem to be confused by it. I believe this confusion stems from Togashi’s decision to tell the story non-linearly.

I could be wrong about this, of course, but my hope is that those of you who read this will agree and come to a better understanding about the chapter.

ESTABLISHING A PRECEDENT

First off, I want to establish that this is not the first time Togashi has used non-linear storytelling in the Succession Arc. The most obvious example of this is the banquet sequence. This period of time is retold three times in the story, each from differing perspectives.

The banquet occurs at 8:00pm on the eighth day of the voyage (a Sunday). This information is provided to us at the end of 382. Awakening. In 383. Escape, we get the banquet from the perspective of the escapees.

Melody uses her ability at approximately 9:30pm.

384. War jumps back in time to the previous night (this information is provided to us in the opening panel). In it, we learn that Theta plans to assassinate Tserriednich on the following day; in other words, the day of the banquet.

In 385. Warning, we get the events of the banquet from the perspective of my favorite character: Theta. The time is 7:35pm when she commences Tserriednich's training. We see the effects of Melody’s ability as the performance is heard through the intercom.

Interestingly, this means Tserriednich's Zetsu training had been going on for about two hours before Theta pulled the trigger.

386. Hypothesis continues into day 9. Kurapika starts performing water divinations for his class on this day.

Finally, 387. Recreation jumps back in time again, showing the events of day 8 from Tserriednich’s perspective.

Note how Melody’s activation of her ability acts as a “uniting event”, tying the plotlines together. This is the very same technique I believe Togashi intends to use in Chapter 400.

PLACING THE WATER DIVINATION

In order to understand the chronology in Chapter 400, we have to place Kurapika’s water divination. We know it begins on day 9 thanks to a timestamp in 386. Only a week remains in his first round of classes, so he needs to start awakening his students. He awakens Ladiolus first, then Maor. He plans to awaken a few more students, but the rest need to wait until tomorrow.

Later on, Zhang Lei’s guard Hashito asks to be awakened in exchange for Tenftory going last. His request is denied by Kurapika, but it seems likely Tenftory went last anyway. In fact, this line could also be interpreted as Hashito using the fact that Tenftory is already going last in order to negotiate.

388 ends with the fourth rumbling of Halkenburg’s aura, 389. Curse jumps back to day 9 for a bit before proceeding to day 10. This is yet another example of Togashi telling the story in a non-linear fashion.

Once again, the fourth rumble acts as a "uniting event", helping us stitch together the timelines.

Later in the chapter, we learn that Tenftory has been awakened to Nen, along with all of the other students.

In other words, all students in Kurapika’s class have been awakened by day 10. This should include Tubeppa’s guard Longhi, who is seen receiving her water divination (or rather, not receiving it) at the end of Chapter 400.

This scene occurs on day 10.

This also means we have already seen events that occur after the end of Chapter 400, which is at least everything that occurs belowdecks in Chapters 390-399.

THE UNITING EVENT

Knowing that the final scene of Chapter 400 jumps back to day 10 isn’t enough to fully comprehend the chapter. We still have to place the scenes involving Melody. Right before they start, we get an unresolved cliffhanger.

I believe this announcement will serve as a “uniting event” for these time jumps, similar to Melody’s flute solo or Halkenburg’s fourth rumble. We will probably hear this announcement in full from another character’s perspective. As a result, it seems likely that Melody’s scenes take place before the announcement.

If the announcement is about Kacho’s death, I could see it occuring before the Melody scenes (knowledge of Kacho’s death is a theme of their conversation). However, I don’t think this is the case for a few reasons:

I believe the deaths of all thirteen princes are eventually going to be covered up. I wrote more about this idea here, but in short, why conceal Sale-Sale’s death and not Kacho’s?

The announcement and Melody’s scenes are intercut with a short scene involving Prince Tyson. This is a strange decision if we were meant to make a link between the announcement and Kacho.

The wording of the announcement is a bit off. “Grave” seems to fit, but “emergency” and “stop what you’re doing”?

Personally, I think this announcement concerns something we have yet to see.

THE MISSING CURSE

In Melody’s scenes, Fugetsu’s condition is revealed to be quickly declining.

We know Fugetsu was “fine” on day 8. According to Melody, a few days have passed since then. This places Melody’s scenes on day 11 at the earliest.

A popular theory about Fugetsu’s decline is that she has been cursed by one of Camilla’s guards. However, that doesn’t quite fit with what we know.

In 389. Curse, we learn that Camilla’s guards can unleash a fatal curse on their targets. Fugetsu’s condition certainly matches the curse’s description.

Fugetsu is even floated as a potential first target, but is ultimately rejected.

Sarahell wants to send out a curse as soon as possible to weed out a possible Nen exorcist (note the use of the phrase a few days). After learning that proximity to the target can make up for lost time, she decides to curse Woble herself.

In other words, Sarahell will attempt to curse Woble first. If Fugetsu is indeed cursed by one of Camilla’s guards, it’s another indicator that Melody’s scenes take place after Longhi’s water divination.

It’s also interesting that Melody plans to contact Kurapika for help, when Kurapika may very well be facing the exact same problem!

Based on the mention of a “next banquet” in Tyson’s scene (as well as Melody’s behavior in this chapter), it would seem not much time has passed since day 9—probably not a week, which is when the second set of classes will begin. I suspect Sarahell will actually attend the class on day 11, rather than waiting for the next round, which would place Melody’s scenes on day 11 or 12.

Accepting the idea that significant time passes between day 10 and Melody’s scenes provides some interesting context to Zhang Lei offering Melody a coin. At this point in the story, he might actually know what it does!

CONCLUSION

I may be completely wrong about this. Maybe Sarahell does wait until the next round of classes. Maybe Fugetsu is cursed before Woble, or maybe Fugetsu wasn’t cursed at all. But even if I am wrong, these are my main points:

There are significant backward time jumps in Chapter 400. In the final scene for sure, and possibly after the end of the Troupe plotline.

If Fugetsu has been cursed by one of Camilla’s guards, there are some unanswered questions. We haven’t seen Sarahell’s attempt on Woble, and we haven’t been offered an explanation for Fugetsu being cursed before it.

I want to end by saying I don’t think this is meant to be confusing. It’s just difficult to remember context from previous chapters when they were released so long ago. In my opinion, even a week is too long to expect a reader to remember such details. It also doesn’t help that we don’t have the following chapters, which would probably make all of this clear.

I sincerely hope Hunter x Hunter returns, and when it does, I hope it’s in the form of bi-monthly, longer chapters (or something similar). I think the current story lends itself much better to that kind of format.

original post

#hunter x hunter #manga #succession arc #breakdown #theory #chapter 400

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theophagie-remade · 3 years ago

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O è tutto frutto di una qualche coincidenza astrale, o tanta gente ha cominciato a leggere l'ultimo arco narrativo di hxh/se lo sta rispolverando in vista della ripresa della serializzazione, e posso dire ciò grazie a un semplice dato alla mano: le email delle interazioni da ao3

#un saluto alla evil oneshot su tserriednich e theta #no ma seriamente da un paio di settimane mi capita più spesso di ricevere email di kudos (oggi anche un commento 🥺🥺) quindi appunto #secondo me è la prova di una ripresa generale. fascinating #1) prova che la gente non vede l'ora 2) yesss new readers/rereaders come to the dark side #mytext #animanga #hunter x hunter

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charming-2d-boys · 4 years ago

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Rules

Hello!

I only have a few rules here, but I would ask that you especially pay attention to the ones written in bold:

Please be polite and respectful. A “please” and/or a “thank you” doesn’t cost you anything.

When requesting something, please, use the Ask button, NOT the Submit one or the comments section of posts.

Also, please be aware that I might refuse your request if it goes against the rules or if I feel too uncomfortable to write it, but I will never ignore a request, whether I accept it or not, I will give you an answer, so don’t worry.

I won't write requests where the reader has a certain nationality, religion, political views etc. due to the fact that it might lead to misunderstandings and inaccurate portrayals (especially in the case of nationalities).

I will also try to write every request as quickly as I can, but certain requests and/or events might take a while to be completed, so please be patient - I will get to them as soon as possible.

If you have a specific idea, please write all the details you have, even if you have to send multiple asks. In that case, please write the number (1/5, 2/5 etc.) so I can make sense of them, especially if you send them anonymously.

I can write NSFW-ish things, but I would like to mainly focus on fluff, angst, AUs etc. and write... softer stuff, since there are other writers who write smut better than me and seem to understand the characters better.

If you do request something NSFW-ish, please be aware that it might be suggestive/hinting at NSFW at best (meaning nothing too graphic).

For NSFW, please refrain from asking for anything that has to do with drugs/being high/intoxicated in any way, yandere, rape, non-con or dub-con, pain or any sort of punishment. There might be other NSFW-related things that I won’t write about, so if you’re unsure, please ask first.

Everything that needs warnings will have them, with the most common ones being: NSFW-ish/suggestive, mentions of death/injuries etc., but if there’s anything else, please let me know.

If there’s something you’re not sure I might write about, please ask first.

Please specify if you want a scenario, drabble or headcanons, otherwise I'll choose.

Please, before requesting something, make sure to check the Masterlist and see if it’s been written before. Unless I can expand on it, I will not write the same thing twice if there will be no major differences.

I try to write everything for a gender-neutral reader, but there might be slip-ups here and there - which is why I don’t really write NSFW nor make it too graphic/specific.

You can always vent, rant, talk about other things and you can consider this place a safe space. I will try to answer everything as soon as I can.

I don't write for the following characters (might change in time):

Hunter x Hunter

Tonpa (no. Just...no)

Ging (gone from his son's life and gone from my blog as well; he could’ve at least sent a card for his son’s birthday... asshole)

Pariston (dude scares the hell out of me for some reason and makes me really uncomfortable; yep, I still don’t like him, he’s a creep. Hisoka seems like the sweetest compared to him)

Shaiapouf (pretty physically, but a drama queen who I'd probably strangle at one point; after finishing the CA Arc, I can say that I’m glad he died)

Youpi (wtf was that form even?!)

Pitou (will never forgive him for what he did to Kite and how much that damaged Gon)

Tserriednich (never in a million+1 years)

Jujutsu Kaisen

Mahito (excellent villain, but I just don’t like him nor really understand his character too well also poor Junpei)

Todou Aoi (I don’t really know what to say about him. I just don’t really like him that much)

Panda (ummm, yeah, I don’t know, but no)

Mei Mei (too materialistic for me to even try to like her)

Mai Zen’in (she’s pretty as hell, absolutely! But also too mean :/)

in Suguru Getou’s case, I will write for him with the personality from before he was... changed (AKA before the Brain Parasite)

17. I currently write for:

Hunter x Hunter (especially Chrollo, still trying to get a grasp on the other characters and if there’re any characters I won’t write for, I’ll write them here)

Jujutsu Kaisen

Thank you for reading and if you have any other questions, please don’t hesitate to ask! （*´▽`*)

#rules

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trashscenariihxh · 5 years ago

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Are you up to do some Tserriednich hcs now? It doesn't have to be x reader, it could be just... general hc. I understand if you won't.

Here are some general ones! With some smut thrown in.

He’s an extreme sadist. To have sex with him is to put your life at risk. Remember in GoT how Joffrey shot Ros with a crossbow? Tserriednich is on that level of sadistic lunacy.

Sometimes he’ll make whoever he’s about to fuck insult entire poems or speeches. Each mistake earns a punishment. It’s like a fucked up, sexual game of hangman.

His hair and skin is very prone to oiliness; the man needs a better skincare routine.

He wishes he didn’t have to eat. Eating is such a human, plebian thing that he considers to be below him.

#tserriednich #smuttastic

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carvinglies · 2 months ago

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Hello! We've clearly lacking content upon the Succession War arc in the Hunter X Hunter fandom. So, would you be willing to write headcanons for its characters? (I would have a preference for Prince Tserriednich, Morena, or Hinrigh, but it's up to you after all.)

Take care!

Migraine Anon

Thanks for the request!

tw: Mentions of monophobia and anxiety but nothing too deep into them

I chose to do Morena and Tserriednich. I wasn't sure if you wanted relationship headcanons or general ones so I just did general you can send in another request if you want relationship headcanons!

Tserriednich headcanons

-Cuts his own hair but isn’t good at it and no one is brave enough to tell him it’s ugly.

-Used to own a bookshelf of art books with poetic meanings when he was a kid and now only saved his favorite one.

-Wanted a piercing when he was younger but never got around to it and now he’s older he regrets even thinking of one cause he thinks it’s tacky now he still wants it he just won’t admit it.

-Is incredibly insecure and thinks everyone is lying to him which made his nen beast the way it is.

-Has some deep rooted issues with anxiety but covers them up with confidence.

-Has a lesser case of monophobia.

Morena headcanons

-She used to eat random stuff she found on the floor as a kid but stopped because she thought it was bad for her reputation.

-Assuming they were allowed to go to school she was very popular.

-Even with her uncaring personality she likes to upkeep her appearance.

-She hated cleaning her piercings and they occasionally got infected before giving in and actually cleaning them.

-She used to need glasses before getting contacts.

-As a kid Morena struggled with voicing her opinion on things and ended up just helping even though she didn't want to

#succession war arc #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter headcanons #hxh headcanons #tserriednich #morena prudo #headcannons #tserriednich x reader #Morena Prudo x reader

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theanimeshontimes · 8 years ago

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Japanese Fans Rank Hunter x Hunter’s Top 10 Female Characters

What better timing, thought Japanese page Buzz Plus News, to ask its male readers, “who are your favorite Hunter x Hunter females?”

To which those males responded:

10 (tie). Amane

10 (tie). Reina

9 (tie). Killua’s grandmother

9 (tie). Seiko

8 (tie). Melody

8 (tie). Elena

7. Girl killed by Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou B

6 (tie). Komugi

6 (tie). Alluka

And the top five...

5. Neon Nostrade

4 (tie). Mito Freecss

4 (tie). Abe (Gon’s great-grandmother)

4 (tie). Shizuku

3. Machi

2. 200th floor receptionist

1. Biscuit Krueger

Hi, thanks for reading, @theanimeshontimes is your #1 source of anime, manga, live action, videos game and con news! Basically everything an Otaku lives for! Come check us out, dont just like and re-blog but follow!

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spicysoftsweet · 4 years ago

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i am here to formally request terror sandwich with an impregnation kink because I've abandoned all my morals and values 🙌

a/n: i am a big fan of abandoned morals and values so please come take this journey with me

warnings: degradation, spit mention?, breeding kink with psychological motivation!!!, villains made soft

---

You are lucky, you think. You must be. That’s the only thing that could explain your trajectory in this empire, right?

Maid to mother of the nation in the mere course of weeks. Sure, your husband and king was objectively awful - he showed no remorse over the deaths of all 13 of his siblings and an innumerable number of illegitimate sons and daughters of the previous ruler - but still, you had gone from rags to immeasurable riches faster than you could spell Hui Guo Rou. You should be thankful. If he couldn’t have you as his queen, he would have you as his slave.

Was it your beauty that had saved you? Tserriednich made it very clear to you that you were a foul, disgusting little thing so you couldn’t grow so presumptuous as to tell yourself that.

So was it your wit? Your intelligence? For someone like him, even if he did acknowledge that he enjoyed your company and the bright way you shared your ideas to others in his presence, none of those things could truly matter. The King only cares of his own thoughts and opinions. It would all be the same if you didn’t utter a single sound.

Well that wasn’t always true.

He would never tell you this in words but he adores the way you mewl and cry, as you do now, knees and breasts pressed into the softest of mattresses, and sweat, tears, makeup and saliva staining terribly expensive linen as you bury your face to muffle your loud, uncouth moans.

He also seems to adore this position he has you in where he fucks you like an animal from behind; you used to think it was because you didn’t yet have the right to look him in the eyes, but no, it’s because he enjoys the plushness of your ass in the palm of his hand and watching the way his cock stretches you as it enters and exits.

Particularly because his goal is to make you not just mother of the nation but mother of princes; it is your duty after all, why else can he justify having you by his side?

It’s absolutely not because he sometimes finds himself lost and confused when you’re below him, breathing softly and warm, and he makes the mistake to look deep into your half-lidded eyes.

His hand rakes through your hair in a firm grasp, pulling you back against him as he ruts inside you, and an arm hooked low around your midsection only allows him to sink into you deeper. You gasp as he applies pressure and even more so when his arm loosens so that a hand can wander even more south to your clit, tapping and circling with thumb and fingers.

He shouldn’t bother about your pleasure, he doesn’t, he can’t, he does?

He still fondles away because it draws out more of your sweet voice, a voice he can imagine sighing with fatigue once heavy and round with child, and cooing at a small being that will take after him. It’s not that he wants children, it’s that he so desperately wants you, and where can you go saddled with an extra body of flesh and bone bonding you to him forever?

There’s a kiss he presses to your neck that your brain doesn’t register as it’s swimming too much with lust (not that you could mention it anyway) and then you come almost violently in this intimate position, walls clamping around his cock and head thrown back into him.

You’ve gone first, as though you were somehow above him as the King, but it satisfies him because your eyes will now close, and he can comfortably flip you onto your back and pound into you without risking the gaze in your eyes he so strongly avoids.

When he comes, it’s with a harsh groan, and as he feels himself empty inside you, he wants to spit in your face because he’s enraged by the way you make him feel.

He just wants you to continue his lineage. Nothing more.

That it is you he wants to impregnate is of no meaning. You are fertile. You are sufficient.

You are nothing more than a repository, languid and leaking full of cum like this. In fact, if your body doesn’t take to his seed this time, he’ll have you replaced.

At least that’s what he tells himself. It’s easier than telling himself that he’s finally become more of a human and in that has become weak for you.

#tserriednich x reader #tserriednich smut #i really made tserriednich u wu #yup #i did it #mmhmm #mae.writing

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thelovelyghostwriter · 4 years ago

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What your HxH crush says about you (probably)

Disclaimer: This is just for lame-ass comedy + sarcasm and not meant to offend anyone. Ehh... bonus if you know which four guys I simp for.

Gon: You like sweet boys who takes you out on dinner or something. You don't really care about how a guy dresses given that this dude had like 4 outfits on the show. You also find him cute. Never mind that he smashed a cat-ant (a different type of smashing, mind you).

Killua: You like Tsundere boys. His assassin mode turns you on. You like guys who are caring and always puts effort in protecting the ones they care about. You probably have a white-haired anime guy kink. You highly like that white-haired dude from Jujutsu Kaisen because you think he's like the grown up version of Killua. For the love of God, I hope you didn’t read a x Reader lemon of him using Godspeed.

Kurapika: You like guys who are intelligent. You might also have a thing for bondage. You probably said "chain me up kurapika at least once". You have a thing for mafia boss dom dudes. You think he's the Akaku God. I’m sure you read a x Reader bondage fic of him (I know I wrote one heh).

Leorio: You like responsible men that know what to do with their future. You like being take care of. You also like goofy guys. Truth to be told, you have a great type. The rest of the girls are delusional.

Chrollo: You like guys who have a sexy deep voice and also you have daddy issues. You weren't really interested in him until he had dressed up in the tuxedo with his hair down looking like the ungodly version of Koenma. You probably ship him with Kurapika or something. Maybe fantasized about his spider tattoo once? Hot eh.

Illumi: You like guys who has pretty hair and a little emotionally detached. You find his eyes really cute (but they are like weird-ass guppy eyes). I hope you don't have some weird needle kink. Eh, but if you’re into that... just be safe or something fml.

Hisoka: You're just horny. Also abs. You assumed he has a big dick or something. Probably called yourself a clownfucker at least once. I’m sure you’ve read some unholy bungee gum bondage fic. Let me just pray for you. Nuff' said.

Feitan: You're a masochist. You have a thing for emos. Also, high likely you have a crush on Levi or Hiei. I don’t even wanna know what kind of reader fics are there with this one.

Shalnark: You like cute guys who are little psychos. High likely into S4 Armin as well. You will feel sad or have felt sad in the recent arc. You probably read a fic about him controlling you with his weird-ass Nen.

Ging: You have a thing for ass-hats. You think he’s a total DILF, despite the dude not having showered for like 6 days. Maybe called him “Daddy” once and likely called yourself “Gon’s step-mom”.

Pariston: You’re into manipulative sparkling dudes (did you like Edward Cullen too?)

Tserriednich: Uhh... You like misogynistic dudes I guess? Probably have a thing for Hannibal too. Meh, he’s a prince so maybe that’s a plus for you. Gold digger.

#hxh #hunterxhunter #gon #killua #leorio #kurapika #chrollolucilfer #chrollo #kuroro #adult trio #phantom troupe #shalnark #feitan #pariston x ging #pariston #gingfreecss #ging #tserriednich

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thelovelyghostwriter · 4 years ago

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What your HxH waifu says about you

Since quite a few responded to the post "what hxh crush says about you" that featured guys (let's admit it, hxh is a damn sausage fest). I was thinking I should do one for the ladies.

Disclaimer: This is just for lame-ass comedy + sarcasm and not meant to offend anyone. Ehh… bonus if you know which two girls I simp for.

Bisky: I only have two questions that can lead to two VERY different conversations - which version of Bisky are you attracted to? Her original muscular form or her petite form? 🧐🧐

Machi: You like tsundere or tough girls. Her cold bitch ice queen attitude (but sweet princess on the inside) turns you on. You like how she has a nice thighs. You want her to do some weird bondage with you with her Nen threads.

Pakunoda: You probably don't look at her face most of the time. "hey, my eyes are up here perv" (she got real nice jugs though so I can't blame you) 🥵🥵 Horny-ness aside, she's loyal to death and that's a bonus for you too.

Shizuku: You're into sub girls that have huge tits and doesn't say much. You like the shy quiet ones. Cause ya know, you don't like women with loud opinions. Pfft.

Neon: Are you into DDLG? You like girls with a princess syndrome and high maintainence + daddy issues. You think her eyes has the "pls ruin my innocence". High likely you are a brat tamer. She reminds you of Botan who is such a charmer too. She has a high-pitched voice so... Naughty naughty.

Menchi: Probably wants a girl who can win your heart through your stomach. This woman can kick ass and cook meals for you, while looking hot. Real keeper there. You got good taste bro.

Mito: You probably wouldn't mind dating an older woman, maybe even those with kids. You like someone who is caring, waifu material and wants to settle down.

Baise: You like women that is confident and you might even have a "step-on-me" masochist kink. You don't mind being a slave to your mistress. You probably never cared about girls' hairstyles given that her hair looks like Hisoka's dick.

Komugi: I know it's you, Meruem, King of Ants. [I actually have real bad jokes about this but for the sake of peace, I will shut up]

Palm: You're into crazy yandere bitches and do not mind if your date changes her whole face with makeup. You probably proudly announced that you'd bone her even when she became an ant. Aye if bestiality is your thing then... go off hun.

Pitou: Uhh... No one really knows if Pitou is a dude but you don't care. You just assume Pitou is a she. You have some Neko catgirl fetish and that's what's important. You'd fuck whatever hole is available with Pitou. MEOW. Maybe you played Nekopara before? If you haven’t, I recommend it if you down real bad for cat girls.

Cheadle: You like girls who are smart, responsible and generally righteous. Independent and a leader-type too. Back in school, you probably have a crush on that one studious girl and kept annoying her to get her attention.

Cluck (Rooster Zodiac): Ok back off. That's my wife. Just kidding, she belongs to Togashi. Anyway, YOU LIKE EM FEISTY. Yum. She may get pissed at you but you find it cute when she's mad. You might also have a thing abt her outfit with the nice feathery tail (it drives me horny so maybe you two too). Anyway, you got good taste.

Pyon (Rabbit Zodiac): BOI. You down real bad for a bunny, huh? You’re just horny for some anime version of a Playboy Bunny. You probably looked at some furry porno from beastars or zootopia. Please join the rest of them Hisoka stans. Period.

Alluka/Nanika: Why you reading this bro? You wanna die by Killua’s hands?

Camilla Hui Guo Rou: Aight. She’s a sadist. Your mind probably saying “no” but because of her beauty, your hormones says “yes”

Gel (Snake Zodiac): You were probably captivated by her nice body. I don’t know if there’s x reader fics of hers but man I hope you didn’t look at her snickety-snake arm and be like “hey I want her to wrap it around my-” Yes, we know you into some tentacle porn or something.

Kite (ant form): You never simped for Kite when he was a dude but now you see her and go head-over-heels. Can’t blame you though, she’s cute. High likelihood you into red-headed girls with freckles and big eyes.

Canary: You love her dreadlocks and she has nice lips. You like Canary because of how she tries her best for Killua. Maybe you’re a Canary x Killua or Amane x Canary shipper too? She’s really loyal to Killua and likely you fell for her during the scene with Gon in the Zoldyck Family arc. You hate Kikyo because she zapped Canary with her freaky cyborg eyes.

Kikyo: I don’t know why this shouldn’t even be here.

Oito: You have a MILF kink. Seriously dude, she has a kid that is signed up for death. But man, if child support is your thing...then no one’s stopping you papa

Amane: You saw her cuteness in that one episode and that was all it took for you to decide that you’d be a simp for her.

Theta: You either ship her with Tserriednich, or you hate Tserriednich. There is no in between. You are scared of Theta’s fate, you’re scared she might die in the current arc because Tserriednich will kill her or force her to be his lover. You’re always praying that Tse’s Nen beast won’t screw her up.

Melody: You love her voice. If possible, you want to listen to an ASMR of hers. You like her because she has a big heart.

Ponzu: You're heartbroken after the CA arc

Retz: FINALLY. Someone who appreciates this pretty girl. You're the best!

Zazan: Go to a bar, get laid cause you need it if you wanna fuck someone with a scorpion tail. You’re deprived. I do NOT want to get into what you fantasize regarding that scorpion tail.

#hxh #hunterxhunter

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