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#yandere feitan x reader
highbats69 · 2 days
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yandere Trouble trio + uvogin making reader smoke weed
Warnings: rape, torture, smoking weed, being high, forced smoking
A/n: I like getting high
✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦♥︎✦
Phinks
Phinks just wants you to loosen up a bit and stop screaming and crying for a couple hours, this man literally just wants some peace and quiet
He brings home a light dab pen because he doesn’t wanna get you totally buzzed
If you put up I fight he might offer to do it with you and if you still put up a fight he’s probably gonna threaten you with locking you up in your room for a week
If you don’t put up a fight and just take a few puffs and chill out he’ll be happy and just let you go about your day or night in peace
Shalnark
He wants you to let him have sex without you screening and trying to get his much bigger form off you the whole time
He’s also gonna get a dab pen but a stronger one just to make it extra easy for him to have his way with you
If you put up a fight he’s pinning you down putting it in your mouth and plugging your nose until you have to breath
While he’s doing that he’s also gonna taunt like “wow imagine what I can do if you do pass out, it would be so much easier”
When your body finally betrays you and you breath in the smoke he’ll be so happy he might pick you up and spin you around
Uvogin
Uvogin wants you to loosen up and let him snuggle you without having to catch you and then pin you down the whole time
He gets a classic bong and bag of weed and shows you what to do
If you put up a fight he’s gonna pretty much do what shalnark did and force your mouth over it until you breath he won’t taunt you though
He’s gonna give you the biggest bear hug when you finally calm down and stop struggling
Your totally sleeping in his bed so he can snuggle you all night
Feitan
Feitan wants you to shut up and let him touch you in peace
He brings home a bong and threatens you with torture if you don’t smoke it
If you put up a fight anyway then he’s dragging you down to the basement tying you up and cutting you up a little
He’s also gonna make you smoke it right there and then he’s bringing you back up stairs so he can just hold and touch you without all your annoying cry’s
He’s also gonna have you sleep in his bed and not yours because your never this quiet
Your gonna be smoking a lot more
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teabutmakeitazure · 10 months
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Ok you answered the best, but who of the yandere Phantom Troupe members would be the worse to have your period with?🫣
Okay this is a fun one lol
Phinks: 6/10 Gets the wrong products every single time. He doesn't understand why there're so many kinds of things for menstruation. Once he said, "Can't you just plug yourself?" It's safe to say that he was delivered the icy glare of death before he understood that he had made a mistake. Do not attempt to teach him. Just... make him get what you need. He's pretty chill about it otherwise, so the most you get for teasing is him saying that he's not going to pick a fight with you because you're supposedly moody. Also believes that taking painkillers will make you weak. So yes, you don't get painkillers, only warm calloused hands as heating pads.
Feitan: 5/10 Can and will sniff you to confirm that you are, in fact, on your period. He stays away from you during the time for some reason. The things you need magically appear like how there's your favourite chocolate just magically sitting in the cupboard after so long. Feitan doesn't interact with you much verbally. Most of what he does is just keep his distance and stare. It's unnerving but he eventually stops when he realises that you aren't going to snap at him for everything. The only reason he is given a 5 out of 10 is because the only time he relented and tried massaging your abdomen for cramp relief, he sharpened his nails and 'jokingly' said that this wouldn't be a problem anymore if he simply removed the uterus right now. That was not a fun encounter even when compared to the expired ibuprofen tablets he has.
Nobunaga: 6/10 Claims he's doing some kind of noble deed attending to you during this time. It's annoying how he laughs at you when you're angry and calls you cute. It's even more annoying when he calls you a tomato sauce dispenser. Other than that, he's very laid back about it. The worst part about spending that time with him is how his perception of you changes a little bit. He starts treating you more like a cute little pet that he has to feed and cuddle other than the human being that lives with him. Will only let you eat chocolate if you share, more like hand feed him a little. Also invalidates anything you say with claiming that it's that time of the month so you're not in your right mind.
Shalnark: 7/10 Is very chill about it. He's understanding and patient with your moodiness. Shalnark also lets you explain whatever you need or want in whatever way you deem fit, as in letting you order stuff with the groceries instead of spelling it out. If he's in a good mood, he might even let you have painkillers. Otherwise you have to go and ask him for a hot water bottle. He jokes around a lot too and with his boyish smile, it seems even more bothersome than it should. His favourite joke is to call you a bottle of ketchup. Will 100% squeeze you from behind and call you his little ketchup bottle. Joking that you might feed him said ketchup doesn't work so don't bother trying that.
Chrollo: 7/10 Absolutely insufferable but a 7 out 10 solely because he knows his limits with the jokes. Chrollo makes you spell out in great detail what products you need. He even goes as far as to question your preferences. Why do you prefer one product over the other? Why do you want this certain type of pad? Why does its top sheet matter? Why not scented ones? Many, many questions but thankfully they're only out of curiosity. He has never dared to tell you that you're being dramatic because you're on your period but he does sometimes test the waters with things like, "I realise that you're going through hormones and such, but let's work this out like adults." Mostly very infantilising but hey, the pampering is welcome. At least the ibuprofen isn't always expired.
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0asisbliss · 1 month
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Men who don’t really care who gets in their way. They’ll kill, and get rid of anyone who gets in the way of your relationship. I mean to him it doesn’t make any sense why would any idiot want to fuck with you two? Either way they aren’t gonna come out of it alive.
FEITAN, Phinks, Shalnark, UVOGIN, Illumi, Chrollo ,(HXH) GOJO, SUKUNA, Geto, Mahito, (JJK) LOKI, Thor, (SNV) Dazai, (BSD) or any of your other faves.
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novasdarling · 8 months
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"What are you gonna do? Kill me?"
With yanfeitan please
I made Feitan talk here more than I think I ever have, so hope that's not a problem.
Kill Me
TW: Kidnapping Mentioned, Yandere Behaviour, Violence mentioned (Punishment), Knife, Threats
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The air felt thick, heavy with guilt and anger. Whose anger and guilt you weren't sure of. His or yours? Perhaps both. The way he stared at you from across the room made you want to yell, scream, something. Something to break his silence and get him to move. Get him to react. Get him to change any way you can. His silence made you want to tear your skin off. It allowed no answer, no hint of what he was thinking or what would come next.
"What's my punishment this time?"
Feitan didn't answer, just continuing to stare at you. Keeping his distance. He was off, even by his own standards. Cold and quiet was how he was, but this was different. This version of him made you uncomfortable at a level you had never been with him. Made you terrified more than before.
You had run and managed to escape for about an hour before Feitan dragged you back to his hideout. The place you had been forced to call home for the last few weeks. It wasn't the first time you had run, but it was the first time you managed to slip from his grasp for so long. You knew that would piss him off. You showed him his flaws, that you could leave, that he had weaknesses.
"Going to lock me away again? Lock me in a closet for a few days with barely any food, huh?"
You were provoking him, it was wrong, but at least then you would know what the hell he wanted. What his plan of punishment was.
"You going to-"
"Basement, now."
The basement. Those words made you want to throw up. You knew what went on down there. What his hours down there with some unfortunate soul meant. Feitan had taken you down once, when he first brought you here. He didn't explain why, just told you to sit still as he engaged with his prisoner. You were forced to see the blood, watch how he cut and stabbed with no remorse. Even when you shut your eyes, that didn't get rid of the screams. The pleas for mercy, for him to stop. Even for you to help. There was nothing you could do. That's what Feitan wanted to prove. You were helpless against men like him, against him.
"No, Pl-"
Feitan turned towards you, cutting you off with his look. He still had his icy stare, but this one was telling you not to challenge him. That things were different, were worse than ever before. Feitan turned to head towards the stairs. Expecting you to follow on your own. It would be wise to. To comply until he was finished with whatever he was plotting. Perhaps it would earn you some leniency. Maybe it would cut the punishment short. You told yourself that as you took a step forward, but something else stopped you. Something made you turn and quickly grab a dull knife from the kitchen. Stupid thoughts that knew the truth yet had no real plan. There was no real mercy with Feitan when you messed up. No early forgiveness from him. Just lesson and punishment. If you went down there with him, you could die.
Adrenaline rushed through you as you held the knife up. Pointing it to him like it would offer you any actual protection. Offer you any safety from the monster in front of you. Yet, there you were. Still holding, pointing it at him. Like it was a cross offering you protection against an unholy beast. But God wouldn't answer your prayers. Not today, not when he seemed to fear the man in front of you so.
Feitan turned towards you. Staring as he took in the sight before him. You holding a dulled knife he left up here for you to be able to cut your food. Holding it, pointing it at him with shaking hands and uneven breaths. He could make out the tears falling from your eyes and sliding down your cheeks. Pathetic and yet, enticing. You always reminded him of a sacred trapped animal and this just cemented it. A frighted field mouse trying to distance itself from an owl. With nowhere to hide and no real defence, yet still hoping. Still trying to get away. Simply just delaying what is to come.
"I'm not going to the basement. I-"
You were cut off by him. Feitan made his move across the room towards you. He moved faster than you had ever seen, faster than you thought anything could. You were still holding the knife, but now it pointed at an empty doorway. While Feitan moved behind you. Keeping you in place, holding your arms so they kept the same position as his chest leaned against your back. Pushing you towards him.
"What was your plan?"
You couldn't give him an answer.
"What are you gonna do? Kill me?"
He gripped your arms tighter. Still holding the knife at nothing.
"What then?"
"I-I-"
"I-I-I" He mocked you "Have a plan next time."
Feitan took the knife from your hands before letting go. Making his way back towards the basement. You had made things worse. Made whatever was to come down those steps so much worse. You had threatened and offended him. Following him down, you hoped this punishment would be cut short due to a phantom troupe call. It was the only mercy that would be granted.
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ddarker-dreams · 9 months
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the yan hxh character's favorite types of styles on you.
(warning for some not SFW implications/reader described as fem)
chrollo loves you in classy, elegant, yet formfitting outfits that highlight the silhouette of your body. slim blazers, short pencil skirts, sheer tights, pumps. will be smiling happily to himself if you struggle with heels since you're forced to cling to him, or trip. purposefully gets outfits that are difficult for you to put on by yourself (like having a zipper in the back) so you must begrudgingly call upon him for assistance.
pretends he 'forgot' to include some pants or shorts as potential options but it was 100% intentional. don't believe his lies. he loves anything that reveals your collarbones but not if you're going out. only he gets to see them, no one else. he mostly goes for neutral colors with a heavy emphasis on black, ivory, beige, navy, and sometimes burgundy if he's feeling a bit wild.
as far as accessories go, he favors dangling earrings and choker-length necklaces. you don't get to wear watches anymore because when he last gifted you one, you kept checking it every time he started talking, and it kinda hurt his feelings. he is a fan of you putting your hair up because he loves admiring the muscles of your neck and it grants him easier access for kissing.
(phinks, feitan, machi and paku under the cut)
phinks originally gives you some t-shirts and sweatpants because hell if he knows how to dress a woman. he doesn't want you thinking he's some pervert that kidnapped you purely for sexual gratification — no, there's a deeper connection he's trying to foster with you here. that being said... if he could have it his way, his biggest fantasy is having you wear those tennis outfits. preferably with white or pink colors. he just thinks you'd look really cute. the short, pleated skirt brushing against your thighs, tight polo shirt, a pair of high top tennis shoes; he'd be in heaven. phinks will want to scoop you up and twirl you around or some other romantic-sounding shit.
doesn't really have any preferences when it comes to accessories. his biggest thing is in the colder seasons, seeing you wrapped up in a scarf is super endearing. it makes his heart almost beat out of his chest. jewelry isn't a big deal to him. he'll gift you a fair amount because he figures Woman = Want Shiny Thing (as if you're a crow), but it doesn't do much for him visually. aside from stud earrings with simple designs, like a flower or moon. he thinks that's pretty cute.
feitan doesn't think about fashion much. he literally wears the same thing every day and only washes his bloodstained jacket if you ask nicely (aka plead). he gets you some long shirts and calls it a day. when you ask if you can have shorts or anything similar to that, he silently stares at you. unlike chrollo, it really didn't occur to him. if he's in a good mood he'll pick up what you asked for. probably gets an uncomfortable material or the wrong size but it isn't out of spite, he genuinely has no idea what he's doing.
he discovers by accident that the sight of you in a sheer nightgown is especially appealing. other than that, the only preference he's aware of is seeing you in light colors. it gives you this innocent glow that he finds aesthetically pleasing. the way it further highlights how different you are — pure (by his standards, at least), virtuous — really does something for him. he has a weird obsession with your wrists so he's gotten you a few silver link bracelets. that's the most you get to accessorize should you ever choose to wear them.
machi lets you wear whatever you want and listens to your clothes requests, because she's too embarrassed to admit what she'd find you cute in. no one could get the information out of her, even if it came down to torture. so... what she wants more than anything (drumroll please)... is to see you wearing one of those short overall outfits over a plain shirt. she'd be staring at you as if you were the mona lisa. she has no idea why the concept entices her as much as it does. all she knows is that you'd look fucking adorable and she'd commit multiple crimes for you.
she likes you in denim, any color really. jean shorts, ripped jeans, skinny jeans, flared jeans, wide jeans, high waist, low waist; she's all about it. oversized tops are a big favorite as well. extra points if the sleeves are too long and cover most of your hand. you think she's glaring at you but in reality she's trying so hard to keep her fraying mind in check.
pakunoda has you looking runway ready whenever she takes you out. the woman did research. a lot of what you wear is tailored specifically to your complexion, body type, facial structure, etc. she enjoys high fashion and has procured pieces made by the biggest names. most of what's in your closet is either wool, pure cotton, or silk. it looks and feels luxurious. she favors seeing you in jumpsuits or maxi-length dresses. coordinating outfits is a favorite of hers, she has color theory down and you both look stunning together. around the house (or wherever she's keeping you), you're free to dress as you please. you both have matching house slippers and robes.
accessories will depend on the season, but you can expect to be wearing sleek sunglasses and the occasional hat. for jewelry, she goes for her birthstone, diamonds, and gold. nothing too ostentatious though. she keeps it classy. while she'd love to see you in stilettos, if you can't walk in them well, she'll go for flat pumps instead.
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ataraxiaspainting · 2 months
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Yan Phantom Troupe + Hisoka + Illumi / Darling Asking “What Am I To You?”.
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Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, kidnapping, implied violence, not SFW implications for Hisoka because he’s a creep (and a mention of M*lluki in Illumi’s section I’m sorry for your loss) and also for Nobunaga because he’s bleh, Nobunaga threatens to take out your teeth for biting him it's up to you whether or not to believe him, and manipulation.
Word Count: 4.5k. (literally how lmao)
*~*~*~*
Chrollo
“Hm…” The sound goes on for much longer than what you would have liked or at the very most could handle without sneering, the crescendo in his voice rising and rising like tulips sprouting from soil. “Hm…”
His tone was barely a whisper at first, but it soon evolved like some hideous, god-forsaken species outcasted to a deserted island or planet. If you did not have your forks and knives taken away for trying to pick and cut off the cuff and chain attached to your ankle, a consequence from last week’s horribly executed escape attempt, you would threaten to stab your eardrums if he didn’t actually answer your question. But part of you thinks that he would only find it funny, and simply hum for twice as long as he has already planned to. Or would he be petty about it, and a second cuff and chain will appear on your ankle along with having your only friend, a silver spoon, taken away? With Chrollo, you do not think you will ever be able to fully tell.
“Please answer me,” You decide on responding with a musical note of your own, a drone. It seems to be the safest option, all things considered. You stare at the soup in front of you instead of at him, playing with the idea of counting the precisely cut vegetables and small rings of pasta. You would have entertained the thought of throwing the boiling bowl at him, but you now know that his speed is beyond what you could ever hope to achieve. 
You would never get that far, would you?
You would have to wait until he is gone for the time being to even be able to step on the welcome rug by the door. You managed to convince him to finally buy you hairpins yesterday, and they are safely tucked away in the corner of the table next to your side of the bed, hidden underneath a pile of neatly folded silk pajamas until further notice. 
“Well, what do you think you are to me?” He asks, brushing his foot against yours underneath the dining table. It takes everything in you not to move your chair away. That would only make things worse, wouldn’t it? Or would this just further make him see you as an adorable little thing because he knows you would not get that far, not with the cuff and chain on your ankle and the several locks on the door and him here right in front of you? 
Again, you cannot tell. When can you ever? Could anyone ever read him, you wonder?
His porcelain dish is already empty, with but a few drops of red broth and a few herbs swirling about. He moves his chair forward and gently grabs your hand, his thumb massaging circles into your palm. You don’t know whether or not to answer his question.
This life is like a torturous game of chess, and you aren’t a player at all. It is up to Chrollo to decide whether or not you are worthy of being a pawn or queen or king, and where you go.
Is this all you will ever be?
His fingers rise to your cheek as he stands up, the touch so light it is hard to decipher the intentions of it. Comfort? Ownership? A statement?
Without thinking, you shut your eyes and lean into it. You coo. You coo like a dove, a baby bird, something so small and fragile in the face of a predator that wants nothing more than to take off its wings so it can never fly away. Perhaps the predator in question is the parent of the chick, never wanting it to leave the nest and explore the big, scary world.
Is this all you ever will be? A helpless, silly little thing stuck way up high with no way down, something cute and small that needs to be protected and cared for because they cannot take care of themselves? 
You finally look up at him and he leans in then. He coos back at you, and you want to go back to closing your eyes and trying to stop hearing whatever he will say as a response to your refusal to answer. But you can’t.
So, you think of an answer, something that would make him happy but also not have you speak too long because you don’t want to speak at all. You just want this to be over with, you just want Chrollo to for once respond to your question instead of rebutting with one of his own.
You don’t have a choice, as always.
“Something to possess,” Your voice is soft and hoarse because you never use it aside from when you cry. “Something… someone to keep for your pleasure and your pleasure alone.” He coos again. It is sweet and sticky and latching onto you like thick honey or candy. 
“You’re halfway there.” There is an unspoken praise in the air, one so nectarous it’s suffocating and you almost can't breathe. It is like Chrollo’s hands are on your throat, squeezing and squeezing until you pop like a balloon. There is no escape.
He turns and gets his fingers off your face, but the feeling of freedom is quickly taken away by the sound of Chrollo’s footsteps approaching you. 
“I suppose I see you as both above and below me at the same time.” He says. You want to run but he’ll catch you in no time before you could even execute the idea.
He is behind you now, grabbing your arms and tugging as your chair squeals and squeaks like a lamb cornered by one who will soon sell its tender meat. You want to scream like one because you too are cornered by someone who will never let you out of here alive.
One of his hands smoothly moves up like you are a violin, lightly pinching your chin and forcing you to look up at him. You just hope there is no encore after this. You hope that in the future there are no such things and that he will just answer your questions and be done with it, but that is so foolish of you, isn’t it?
“You are human and have humanity,” He murmurs, his eyes wider and more intense than you ever had seen them before. “And I would love nothing more than to steal that away.”
Nobunaga
“You’re so silly, you know that?” You recognize the rhetorical nature of the question and choose not to answer. This causes Nobunaga to toy with the thigh-high socks he insisted you wear after returning from another day of thievery.
Every time you tried to express yourself verbally, you were met with a laugh, a gentle touch, an embrace, a peck, or... something far more dreadful than any of those gestures. You preferred to steer clear of that type of affectionate act for as long as you could, even if it meant just a few days. It would be a noteworthy achievement. Of course, Nobunaga's libido would never wane, as he shows no mercy unintentionally to you and intentionally to anyone else in his life.
The way your food is placed on pink plastic plates with little sections of where to put vegetables and where to put a small dessert for a job well done of eating all the food, which is always raw or burnt to a crisp. The pastel frilly clothes you’re forced to wear always show too much skin. The threat to remove most of your teeth if you bite him again. The way he keeps touching your thighs, pinching and groaning and-
Nobunaga never answers your question, resuming to hand-feed you some severely undercooked cookies he baked himself. Well, you scooped the dough at least, and that’s the most you’ll ever do in the kitchen while you are held captive.
Still, raw cookie dough is better than burnt in your opinion.
Just like delusional Nobunaga is much, much better than angry, heartbroken Nobunaga.
Your broken pointer and middle fingers are proof of that.
Feitan
“...”
He blinks; once, twice, thrice… and then you stop counting. It’s pointless anyhow, he is most likely not going to answer your question yet again.
As anticipated, Feitan walks away wordlessly, descending to his basement without a single step on the stairs being audible.
Just as you believe he has vanished, he creeps up from behind, clutching an object in his palms, causing you to nearly shriek. He would find amusement in that if you did. Whenever you engage in any action he deems foolish, he chuckles. It is the closest semblance of happiness you have witnessed from him, his snickering. 
“...Here.”
With trembling hands, you accept the concealed object from his grasp.
“...Well?” Feitan asks, raising his eyebrow, his coat hiding what is most likely a smirk of some kind. “Like it?”
Huh? It's... a ring, from a fancy jewelry shop that you had been setting aside money for. This shop happened to be the priciest in the city you grew up in, with all of its items being highly sought after.
“I do.”
Happiness is like the rarest star in the universe to you now, and you will never let it go, now that you have it once again.
“...Glad.”
After a few moments of silence, Feitan is the one who speaks again as you stare at the jewel’s beauty.
“Do you want the finger that came with it?”
(machi, hisoka, phinks, shalnark, franklin, shizuku, pakunoda, bonolenov, uvogin, kortopi, and illumi under cut!)
Machi
Somehow, Machi’s posture becomes even more tense. But it does not stop her from still pouring the pot of instant ramen into your plate, though hers remains empty.
In silence, she puts some edamame, still cold from the fridge, on top, along with some spinach and carrots.
With her bare hand, she pulls out one of the soft-boiled eggs from the bowl of ice water, rolling it on the table until its shell cracks and she takes it off. She then, along with the egg and vegetables, puts some seaweed on top.
When you lean in closer to the utensil drawer, Machi opens it before you can.
She doesn’t ask you which chopsticks you want. She already knows your favorite one by now. The wooden ones with purple handles with white rabbits on them. Hers are plain.
She puts yours in one hand and your food in the other, walking to the kitchen table and putting both down. It’s winter now, and so she makes you drink tea nonstop and thus has a cup of it in front of your chair too.
“…Do you think I hate you?” Her voice, while still cold, has an emotion in it this time; worry. “I don’t, I really don’t. I promise you.” With that, she cracks the other boiled egg and puts it into her empty bowl. “I promise.”
You feel horrible for asking. You just wanted to know. You never know what she is thinking, that is why. But you feel horrible. Now she does too. Both of you, here, in silence, pondering whether or not the other despises you.
“I know, I just… wanted to make sure.” You don’t know if you are lying, and neither does she.
She takes good care of you. But she also ties you up when she has to leave, and one time she had to take out the syringes when you got too aggressive.
So what exactly are you to her?
Hisoka
Hisoka, still standing over your sitting form, puts his right hand on you, squeezing it just barely enough for it to sting.
“Aw, come on [First], lighten up.” If it were possible, with his words Hisoka grows twice as large as he was before he said anything. “I still have lots to teach you.” He chuckles as his long nails, sharp enough to be daggers or a ferocious beast’s teeth you think, dig further into your shoulder. The message is clear. You’ll never be rid of him, as much as you try to.
Even now, when you move to a secluded village on the other side of the country, for just the slightest chance he would leave you alone.
Your basket of berries and herbs is still next to you, a reward for all the foraging you did just before Hisoka showed up again.
“I did your leaf-in-water test already for you.” Just before you ran for the hills, you finally gave into Hisoka essentially begging you to test what kind of Nen user you are, claiming that you were now his pupil. “The water tasted sweet. I’m a Transmuter. That’s what you wanted to know. There is nothing else you can do for me, you know I am no fighter.”
Hisoka nods, and you think that this is it. Maybe he will finally leave you alone and you can go about your life without knowing anything else about Nen. But instead, Hisoka sits next to you on the grass.
He takes a berry from your basket and squeezes it between his fingers before it turns into a sticky mush.
It’s red.
“I know, but there are other things I can indeed teach you, can’t I?”
You don’t want to know what he means, you don’t want to know what he wants to do to you, but before you can stop him he is already on top of you, pushing you behind the bush you were picking rose petals from. You kick and scream at him to let go and cry, but he, as always, is so much stronger than you’ll ever be. 
“This will hurt for a bit, but I promise you’ll feel very good, and you’ll want more.”
Phinks
Phinks stops pressing the buttons on the remote and stops reading the little synopsis on each of the shows he was thinking about watching with you, or each of the movies. You were not paying attention, instead looking at your fingers and playing with the dry skin by each nail.
He sets it aside, placing a hand on the back of his head and gently scratching. His gaze falls to the floor, and you follow suit.
He exudes nervousness. This comes as no surprise, as Phinks has always been one to shy away from openly displaying his romantic desires, as odd as it were to you when you were first brought here.
“Uh. Why do you ask? Isn’t… it kinda obvious? Um… you know I’m not exactly cut out for all this sappy bullshit… I… I… Um. Just… just forget it, okay? Just know that I see you as my partner… Wait, oh God, that sounds so bad…”
He keeps stuttering as he tries to explain everything. But, as funny as it would have been if you had known him outside of being your stalker and now current captor, his words only make you feel more hopeless.
Shalnark
He puts down his phone and stands up from his armchair. You’re in your pajamas, the fluffy pastel pink ones, standing in the doorway to Shalnark’s office area, where there are many computers and such on the walls and his large desk.
“Aw!” He murmurs, then gently pinches your cheeks upon approaching. He playfully rubs his nose against yours. Trying to distance yourself, instantly regretting seeking an answer of any sort from him, yet as always, his overpowering strength prevents any escape.
“C-Come on, Shal…” The nickname sometimes works when you ask for some dessert or a game of some kind, so maybe it will work in a situation like this too. “I wanna go to bed.” You nearly whine as he stretches your cheeks out further. 
“But I still haven’t answered your question, sweetie!” He exclaims.
“F-Forget it.” You mutter, looking to the side. “It’s fine. Really. Get back to work.”
But he does not let go.
“Let me answer! Hmm… you’re so cute, like a kitten. You sure snuggle against me in bed like one!” Shalnark chuckles, and you can smell a mix of coffee and oranges in his breath. “So maybe… that’s the best analogy for it?” Some mint too. “Something to cuddle with? Something to keep safe.” He boops your nose. “Something too silly and adorable and airheaded to live on their own.”
You’re not sure if his words are supposed to hurt you or cheer you up.
“Yeah, I think something like that works!” After what seems like an endless amount of time, Shalnark releases his grasp on your face. “Just look at you.”
“O-Okay.” You murmur, turning away and attempting to make a beeline for the bedroom, regretting ever opening your mouth. “Sorry for asking. Good night-” Shalnark grabs your arm, making you stop moving before you even start. 
“Come on, cutie! Spend some time with me. We can even play Wild World together again!”
He points to your 3DS, a rose gold color, and then to his, which is dark violet and covered in stickers referencing popular memes he saw on the internet. At least he has never made you see some particularly gruesome scene in the horror games he plays late at night out of impulse.
Franklin
As your words hang in the air, a silence so profound that you begin to question if he even registered your message, you find yourself fixating on your unfinished meal. Contemplating the merits and drawbacks of broaching the topic once more versus letting it go, you suddenly hear him put his cup of coffee down with a clatter as he almost slams it by accident.
“Where did this come from?” He asks. His tone almost seems concerned, you think, concerned for how you think of him when he is always so quiet or concerned for how you think he thinks of you, that one day he will simply not come back and find someone else more willing.
Franklin does not seem angry, not that he ever was. He is trying to appear neutral, to not scare you, like you were some sort of stray cat who he has yet to earn the trust of.
Though you don’t bite or scratch, you do hide from him.
“I… just want to know why you did all… this.”
Your eyes go everywhere, from the pots of plants he brought you recently by the barred windows to the blinking light above the stairs he promised to fix soon to Frank Herbert’s Dune laid across the couch next to your blanket. 
“Franklin, since you claim to care about me… why can’t I go outside and be free?”
After a few more moments of silence, you look up at Franklin. He looks remorseful almost, from his visible frown to his eyes almost being closed to the way he does not look at you. Something akin to pity blooms in your chest.
“...Because unfortunately for both of us, I am… selfish, and you are too much for me to lose.”
Just like that, the pity dies similarly to the vase of flowers in the middle of the table.
Shizuku
You don’t know whether or not she will respond while knowing what you are and what she is. A captive. A captor. But you doubt it because every time she comes back she thinks you are here of your own volition and that you love her just as much as you know her.
Sometimes, you wish that you did, because whenever she sees you she looks at you like you were a gift that she had wanted for years.
Sometimes you wish that you did because that would make things oh so much easier for you. She sometimes forgets you are here, sometimes still goes to your actual home, and panics when she sees you are not there.
Shizuku merely chuckles, hugging you tighter. Perhaps she even forgot the slap she inflicted upon you earlier today for daring to say that you hate her, making you fly across the room.
“My love of course, silly!” Sometimes you hope that one day you will forget everything too because you envy Shizuku for never being cautious.
Pakunoda
“[First]...” Pakunoda’s eyes meet your own, one of her hands holding onto a chocolate-covered strawberry from the box she just got. Her other has a presence above one of your own, a presence so light you hardly recognize it is there.
She looks regretful and concerned.
The look fills you with so much guilt you immediately apologize and put the back of your head on her lap once again. It always works.
“You do know I care about you deeply, right, beloved?” Her long nails glide over your hair, making you close your eyes to calm yourself. You hope that look is gone because you aren’t sure how much longer you can take it before you break under its pressure fully. “I really do.”
You know she does, but it does not make the first days of your capture, which feels like an eternity ago, feel any less real, as much as Pakunoda denies the more horrifying parts of it all.
“I know, Paku.”
She smiles at the nickname.
The strawberry approaches your mouth, and you bite into it. Dark chocolate, you think this one is. Pakunoda loves her strawberries, but she loves parfaits just a little bit more. Maybe, to get her to forget your question, you can ask her to get some and feed them to her. 
Soon, you fall asleep. Pakunoda opens her book back up after closing the box of sweets. 
With one hand she caresses your hair, and in the other, she turns the pages of her novel. She loves evenings like this.
“I love you…” She murmurs, brushing some of your hair out of your face. “One day… you’ll love me too, fully, right?”
Half asleep, you agree without thinking. Once again, she smiles.
Bonolenov
With a sigh, he turns his head, momentarily interrupting your question. However, he quickly resumes dancing before you, delighting in your observation of his favorite pastime. Although you are unsure of the specific style of dance he is performing, you are confident that Bonolenov will soon enlighten you, taking the opportunity to boast about his expertise in this particular art form.
Listening to his animated explanations is always entertaining. His frequent rants make you feel as though he is a close friend rather than your captor if only that were true. Despite the circumstances, he treats you with kindness and respect. He believes that housing you in his home is an honor and privilege, a sentiment for which you hold some gratitude.
“A lover, because I do love you. You are simply wonderful to be around, after all.” In an alternate existence, were he not involved in criminal activities such as theft, kidnapping, stalking, and multiple murders, you might have developed an affection for him. This is due to your awareness of his deep affection for you and the kindness he exhibits towards you.
So you say such.
Bonolenov stays silent for a little while after that, along with the dancing that he often enjoys doing. Instead, he gazes through the windows, adorned with steel bars, and tenderly places small tokens that he knows bring you joy upon the table in the kitchen.
Uvogin
“Huh?”
Uvogin stops punching the claw machine, turning to you. It’s a mess, all because you said you wanted a corgi plush from it. But is it your fault, when you wanted to win it fair and square?
Maybe it’s not. Maybe it is. You know Uvogin is never one to have coins in his pockets. But, then again, he always seemed to have money when he was placing bets with Troupe members, especially with that Nobunaga person.
He seems confused, albeit he is hiding it behind a smirk. In one of his hands, covered in little shards of glass, is the stuffed animal you wanted.
“Come on, [First]!” He laughs, delusionally proud of himself. “I’m your boyfriend!” He wasn’t, but you would never voice that.
“...I-I know. But still… Do you like me?” You make an effort to convey your thoughts in the most diplomatic manner possible, being cautious not to provoke Uvogin's anger. Despite never having witnessed Uvogin's wrath, you remain steadfast in your desire to avoid it at all costs.
His smile widens.
“Of course I do!”
He presents you with the cuddly toy, having meticulously removed all the splinters of glass embedded within it.
“Do you really?” You ask, thinking of the time he threatened to break your legs if you ever attempted to run away from him again. He wasn’t even angry as he said the threat. 
At another one of your questions, Uvogin says yes. But does he really? Or are you just something to hoard?
Do you really want to find out, you wonder? 
Your heart tells you you don’t.
Kortopi
He turns his head, confused. It is one of the few expressions you can decipher from Kortopi because of the many strands of hair covering him. At the sight, you bow your head down.
He steps forward, and you step back.
He stops moving. So do you.
He retreats. You don’t speak for the rest of the day. You were used to it though. Kortopi hardly ever talks to you, but you don’t think he means it to be rude.
“Everything.” He mutters, standing above your bed. You sleep so peacefully, something you never were when you were awake. “You are everything.”
Illumi
Gently, he puts his teacup down with a little clatter of the saucer as he does so.
“Do you think I see you in a bad light, [First]?”
You simply look down at your teacup, smelling the lavender and chamomile to try to calm down a bit before answering Illumi.
The query has plagued your mind for an extended period. The exact duration remains elusive, as the days have merged into an indistinguishable blur. No matter your actions, pain will be inflicted upon you by someone, regardless of your conduct. Perhaps it will be Illumi's mother, administering a slightly sublethal, tasteless toxin with a syringe. Or it could be Illumi himself, subjecting you to days of confinement in a food and water-deprived closet. Regardless of your behavior, the inevitability of suffering looms. 
With the intent of prolonging your exposure to the morning birdsong and granting yourself additional time in the garden, you opt to respond.
“N-No.” You lie. “You… keep me around to be molded into your perfect spouse, I know that, it is just… just…”
His smile sends chills down your spine, surpassing even the terror of Illumi's younger brother once launching into a lewd tirade about you in your presence.
“That is all there is to it; nothing more, nothing less.”
You sip the tea finally, and the burning sensation in your throat does not bother you anymore.
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galamalion · 2 months
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𐕣. 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐃
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summary. you were suffocated by your keeper, attempting to find sanctuary in what you could earn.
⤷ contents. yandere!feitan portor x fem!reader, yandere themes, imprisonment, implied past physical and emotional abuse, implied torture, unhealthy relationships // wc. 1.3k
⤷ notes. really getting stuck on the yandere chain...just wanted to write some things for my favorite dream yanderes ;) <3
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Leaving your bedroom was always the hardest part of the day.
The small space was your greatest comfort, even if your mattress would leave you aching in the morning, not to mention how thin your blankets were. You’d never voice your complaints, not out loud. Your captor could be rather ignorant of your needs, only giving you a blanket after seeing you, by mere chance, shivering one night.
He chastised you, as if it was your fault for not asking for a blanket. But you had learned previously that asking for things—even necessities—was considered rude, showing that you were ungrateful for what he had already provided.
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“What more you want?” he had hissed, flashing you a wicked smile. “Need to learn lesson in basement?”
You learned exactly what the basement held when you were first brought here, and the fear of returning plagued both your dreams and nightmares. Just seeing that rotting door brought back memories of your former life down below. Feitan was aware of this, playing off of your fear as if it were a joke, mocking and threatening you over anything he viewed as a slight towards him.
And so you stayed in your room.
Eventually you would have to make your way out and down the stairs, where he may or may not be waiting. But that was normal with Feitan, lingering either too close or being completely gone. You never caught him entering the cabin you were in, mostly on account of the countless trees surrounding the area. Feitan never had to tell you that escape was futile, the dead quiet atmosphere did that for you. Wherever you were was far, far away from any human civilization.
You fiddled with the lace on your nightgown—Feitan’s newest fixation. Originally you had an odd and wide assortment of clothes, ranging from long t-shirts with weird stains to bloodied and fraying button up long sleeve shirts. You chose not to question their origins. But one day Feitan barged into your room and threw dresses to your feet, taking what remained in your closet and leaving as quickly as he came.
They were softly colored, mostly various shades of white with a few rosy pink gowns peaking out in the pile. Lacy, and most of all, pure. A clear sign that Feitan saw you as a porcelain doll. Beautiful, yet breakable. But you were made of flesh and blood, not as easy to break or crack. You could see how his eyes lit up when bruises formed on your wrists where he grabbed them, the delight hidden behind his bandana when you began to cry. A sadist who valued his toys. Well, perhaps you weren’t valued, but you seemed to be treasured, at least.
“Breaking would be boring,” he had scoffed, “more fun if alive.”
Maybe treasured wasn’t right either.
Your legs kicked back and forth as you sat on the edge of your freshly made bed. Making your bed was on your personal to-do list—anything to avoid leaving. You were dressed and your outfit for tomorrow was selected. It was a short list, but in a room with only a bed and a closet, it was as long as it could be. More importantly, if you waited any longer up here, Feitan would be upset. He had never dragged you out of your room, but his mood was significantly soured if you refused to leave, and you didn’t want to test him now.
And so, with a heavy heart, you left your bed and walked across the creaky wooden floor. You gingerly turned the rusty doorknob, opening the door to the monster that roamed the halls. He was most likely downstairs, waiting in the kitchen for you. Sometimes you felt like he wanted you to cook for him, which you wouldn’t be opposed to. Feitan’s cooking was abhorrent, usually undercooked and bland chicken he found and made himself. But you weren’t allowed to use any of the kitchen appliances, always watched closely whenever you passed by the knife block. You weren’t sure what he was scared of, since he could easily dispatch you with a single hand.
You carefully descended the stairs, not wanting to alert Feitan to your presence. It was probably a futile effort, knowing how aware he was of his surroundings, especially of your actions. He hardly ever interacted with you, instead just staring. Watching. It was disturbing, but there wasn’t anything you could do to stop it except keep your head down and pretend he wasn’t there. He hated when you did that, though.
Upon reaching the bottom, you immediately met eyes with Feitan, who had clearly been waiting for you. He had two cups before him, still steaming. Freshly made, meaning you hadn’t been too late coming down. 
“Good morning,” you whispered, stepping across the floor to join him at the table.
All you received was a soft hum of acknowledgement.
You sat down in the chair across from him, resting your hands in your lap. Feitan had left the other cup near your seat, indicating that it was meant for you. You could smell the liquid before seeing it, and it wasn’t half bad. Definitely some kind of tea, surprised that Feitan had something like this in the cabin. You brought the cup up towards your lips and took a sip. Minty, with a lot of honey. 
“You like?” he interrupted your tasting, staring right at you. Through you.
“It’s good,” you said softly.
He let out a noise of approval, continuing to watch you finish the drink. His went untouched.
Once you had drank the tea, you let the silence simmer between you, keeping your eyes trained on your lap as you spoke up.
“Uhm, Feitan,” you began, playing with your hands to ease your nerves, “I was just thinking about, maybe—and, ah, only if you allow it—taking me outside? It’s just that, well, I think there could be some ingredients out there, and I know you’ve talked about having me cook soon, but, uh, it’s going to be getting too cold in a month or so, so maybe…”
You dared to look up at him, meeting eyes that had been piercing your body even before you started speaking. And that familiar silence arose once more as Feitan, who continued to stare you down. You had only ever made one other request of Feitan, that being shoes, since it was getting cold. Instead you received different socks, varying in thickness.
“It not like you going anywhere,” he had mocked, a glint in his eye.
But that tiny light was absent in his eyes now, only narrowing as he seemed to consider your petition. Of course, he could be feigning care, letting your excitement bubble up only to crush your hopes at the very last second. He always enjoyed doing that.
Feitan stood up from the table, rapidly walking over to you. Your body told you to run, but your brain reminded you of the consequences, leaving you frozen and shaking as Feitan approached.
He stopped in front of you, just staring for a minute. Then, without giving you time to think, he grabbed your face, squeezing it roughly.
“Rules,” he said, “I go with. You do not pass tree line. If you leave sight, basement. If you run, basement. Understand?”
You did your best to nod in his grip.
“Good,” he mocked, releasing your face, “we go tomorrow.”
Immediately your hands fled to your face, attempting to soothe the pain of his hold. You tried to push the tears back inside, but were unable to stop the small streams that escaped your eyes.
Feitan crouched down in front of you, tilting his head.
“Why so sad?” he cooed, brushing away a tear from your face. “I give you something good.”
“Be grateful.”
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lliminall · 10 months
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yan!phantom troupe most to least likely to get you a cat | headcanons
tags: gn!reader, yandere, mentions of threatened violence against animals
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pakunoda
she loves the idea! she even brings it up with you herself. she already likes cats and they always seem to like her, but she never thought about adopting one because of her unpredictable lifestyle. now that she has you, kept safe and hidden away in her home, it seems like a much more viable idea. she really does hate to see you so despondent and upset, and hates the thought of you being miserable all alone while she’s away, so bringing in a cat is a perfect solution to your loneliness. if you’ve been particularly good lately she may even bring you along to find one, either from a shelter or straight off of the streets.
machi
unlike pakunoda she won’t bring up the idea herself, but once you mention it she jumps right on top of it. not immediately, of course. she has to at least pretend to think about it and be cranky about it. really though, she recognizes this as a great opportunity to boost your mood and improve your opinion of her. she brings you a kitten because she thinks it’ll be good for you to put all your energy into raising it, and also because it’s just so cute. even if she won’t say it out loud. adopting the cat has a third, more unexpected benefit though. it ends up humanizing her to you, as soon as you see her cooing and petting the little baby when she thinks you aren’t paying attention.
phinks
sure. why not. that’s exactly what he thinks when you bring it up. he really couldn’t give a fuck about some fuzzy little animal living in the house, but if it’ll make you happy (and finally make you like him) he’ll do anything. the shelter employees are a little hesitant to hand one over when you walk in with this brooding, sketchy looking guy but none of them have the guts to outright refuse him, so you end up bringing home whichever one you want. he doesn’t ever grow to love the cat, but with time maybe he can learn to like it. just a little bit. maybe even let it curl up on his lap and get fur all over his track suit, if you gush about how sweet it is while he does it.
uvogin
another one who just doesn’t give a fuck. he doesn’t like cats, doesn’t dislike them, but if you really want one he’ll oblige. yanks one straight off the street and brings it home to you spitting and scratching like it’s life depends on it. the poor baby calms down a lot once you manage to get it out of uvo’s hands, but the cat never quite warms up to him and really only likes you lmao. uvo doesn’t mind though, he really only got it to make you happy, and as you later find out, to have a more convenient way to bring you back in line when you start acting up. all it takes is one off-handed threat towards the cat and suddenly you’re feeling a lot more cooperative. it is very cute to see him trying to pet it’s tiny head with his giant fingers though, even if the cat is less than thrilled to have him around
shalnark
shalnark isn’t thrilled at the idea of having a cat around, but he isn’t exactly opposed to it either. he just doesn’t really care about animals much. and the thought of a cat getting hair everywhere and jumping all over his desk doesn’t sound like the best idea to him. if you’re persistent enough, however, he might make it into a reward for good behavior. if you can make it a couple months without picking a fight or trying to break a window he’ll bring one home for you, but don’t think for a second that you can ever get away with acting out again. shalnark will not hesitate to threaten the cat to get your cooperation, and he’ll say it all with a smile on his face and a hand scratching the oblivious kitty’s ears. he’s another one who won’t ever love the cat exactly, but might grow to tolerate it. likes picking on it with a laser pointer or some other toy that it loves to chase but never quite catches
chrollo
chrollo isn’t too keen on the idea. he moves around a lot, and it’s enough of a hassle getting you from one place to another with no hiccups. throwing an animal into the mix is not an appealing idea to him, but it’s possible to get him on board if you’re very, very convincing, and by convincing I of course mean being as sweet and cuddly (and maybe even sensual) as you can stand to be. I think chrollo would initially plan to buy you some expensive pure bred, but if you asked for a shelter cat specifically he may be surprised to find out that he’s happier that way. there’s something strangely charming about this scraggly little stray you’ve brought in to care for and cuddle. with enough introspection, he might come to the conclusion that he sees some of himself in this cat; or at least, some of who he used to be. he’s another one who will use the cat to keep you on your best behavior, although I don’t think chrollo would threaten to hurt the cat, just to take it away from you if you aren’t obedient. he doesn’t want you to resent him too much, after all.
feitan
oh god. if you know what’s good for yourself you won’t ever even ask him for one. if you do, and he agrees, it’s for one reason and one reason only: to terrorize you into obedience. feitan will not hesitate to hurt this animal you love if he thinks that’s what needs to happen to win your cooperation. whereas some of the others may use those threats a bit emptily, feitan has absolutely no qualms about breaking a bone on this poor animal to remind you that it’s in your best interest to mind his rules, now. what makes it more disturbing is the fact that feitan seems to get along with the cat just fine while you’re not acting up, petting it and letting it curl around his legs while he’s busy. he’ll threaten to snap a bone or crush its windpipe while stroking it calmly, a wicked smile pulling at his lips. he knows how terrified you are of seeing this animal get hurt. you’ll likely never have the guts to disobey him again.
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cheesecakethots · 6 months
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Hellooooo, good morning from my side of the world. I saw a post about regretful yanderes, so can I please get a regretful yandere ask for the hxh adult trio with Feitan pleaaaaseeeeee🥺🥺. Ignore if it's too much trouble.
From your one and only crazy chicken 🐔🐔
ok i kinda struggle with hxh trio having regret because like. they don’t seem the type to. kinda?
below the cut: hisoka (very short), chrollo, Illumi, feitan
hisoka. 0 regret. horrific man. will not ever feel bad about whatever he does to you.
chrollo and illumi are a little bit tricky for me.
chrollo keeps up with the gentleman act, but has zero regret in taking you away. his punishments are also very thought out and planned, so i don’t think he’d come to regret them, as in his eyes you truly deserved what was coming to you. i can see him feeling some ounce of regret when you push him too far and the act drops; he might lash out and leave you with at most a broken wrist. he’d feel bad if you started going quiet after that, but mostly because he enjoys talking to you so much.
but i also think that something in the heart he thought he didn’t have starts aching at the sight of you crying. i imagine this in a scenario where you’ve been with him for a while now, and you haven’t been lashing out or trying to escape. he’s usually very in tune with your emotions, but for a split second when he looks up from his book to see you silently crying he feels his eyes widen, and breathing halt. the feeling in his chest is probably the closest thing he can have to actual regret.
illumi is similar in the fact that his punishments are very thought out, however i see them also being much more extreme. with chrollo if you run you get a condescending caress of your cheek before being knocked out and carried back. with illumi you could end up with two broken ankles. he’ll get some form of silent pleasure at carrying you around everywhere and having you rely on him entirely, so don’t give him the opportunity to do so.
illumi doesn’t like seeing you sad though. when he stalked you for like… two days before just taking you for himself, he felt something in his chest grow warm at watching you interact with things that made you happy (not people, though. that made him feel a little bit sickly.) seeing you play with a stray cat on your way home from work had him thinking that you would be a good mother. the next morning you woke up in the zoldyck estate, so… yeah.
you might become quiet the more time you spend with him, thinking that maybe that’s what he wants of you. he’ll regret if he makes you feel like that - like chrollo, he’s also hooked on the sound of your voice. he’s just a lot less obvious about it.
similarly to chrollo i imagine he doesn’t like seeing you cry. you’re his wife, you should be happy. it kinda depends on why you’re crying though. if it’s because of him he’s probably already convinced that he’s done nothing wrong and that you should get over it. if it’s his family, he’ll probably have a talk to them to see what happened. if it’s anyone else he’s seeing red. quite literally too; whoever it is will be drained of all blood they have available.
now. feitan. hrm.
as far as i’ve seen of him feitan seems to be one of the worst yans you could be stuck with. is mad at you for the fact that he’s in love. has considered many times just killing you so he can be rid of all of these feelings but every time he just can’t bring himself to, and it makes him more mad.
definitely sadistic. he doesn’t care to explain to you why you’ve made him mad sometimes, and it’ll be hard to know if you have because he’s always mad. the only time you see him content is when he’s come back from torturing someone (and also when he watches you sleep but you don’t need to know that.)
being with him is like walking on thin ice while wearing a suit made out of molten lava.
his punishments will hurt. bad. expect a lot of bruises or broken bones, and he’s pretty fast to dish them out. he actively enjoys seeing you cry, so that isn’t going to help with anything.
but. i can actually feeling some sort of regret at times. very VERY rarely, though.
one time he locked you in the basement for a couple of days, forgetting that you needed food and water to quite literally survive. you couldn’t really focus on much when he came back, but you could swear you saw actual panic in his expression.
he never apologises for things like that, but you’ll find yourself warm in bed, some microwaveable meal you enjoy on the table next to you, as well as maybe a book or game you used to go on about. it’s pretty much the only form of regret you’ll get from him, but you’ll take it over anything else.
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shumidehiro · 11 days
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Movie Night
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It’s been years since I last wrote anything about HxH. Also modern au? Or not? But it has pop culture references here (and I never really watched the anime either lmao).
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“So, um, what’s the first movie you’ve ever watched?”
Feitan glanced at you, slowly, like in those horror movies about possessed protagonists and you were the clueless side character. You knew he didn’t really watch the movie in front of you. You knew that he kept you in his peripheral vision after many pleas for him to stop staring at you so blatantly whenever you watched something. Not that you blamed him. This movie turned out to be boring. You didn’t even know why you spent so much time begging him to get his hands on a copy.
“Human Centipede.”
“Ah…”
Why weren’t you surprised? The answer sounded so predictable, so stereotypical of him you were almost disappointed. Or maybe you were just stupid to expect something different from a torturer slash murderer who was also your captor.
“How was it? Do you like it?”
You’d never watched it, but you heard about it. It was a classical torture movie, featuring a deranged surgeon sewing people’s mouths to the other’s… rears. Sometimes, you wondered what the actors thought when they first read the script. Were they disgusted? Were they laughing at the absurd plot?
“It was fine.”
Fine. Just fine. If your eyes weren’t failing you, you might even think there was a flash of boredom in there; a slight softening of his eyes. Apparently, the idea of people being forced to eat from another person’s rear wasn’t interesting enough for him.
“I see. As for me, it was the Mummy.”
Feitan raised an eyebrow. You didn’t tell him your favorite scene was when the newly awakened mummy chased the female character around because he thought she was his long-lost love. It might spark some… ideas on Feitan’s mind.
Still, it didn’t quite hide the small, pleased smile on your face.
“You really like it.”
“I do.”
There was a momentary silence after that, not quite comfortable but also not quite awkward. You forced yourself to continue watching the movie, while glancing at the clock occasionally. Just half an hour more, and you could go to bed.
“We could watch Fubar, if you want.”
“What? Oh, um, no. Thank you.”
You’d never heard about that, but you knew you might regret watching it. After all, it was already proven that his taste in media was questionable at best and disgusting at worst.
Feitan smirked faintly, mischievously, from underneath his cowl.
“Good choice.”
You shot him a side eye.
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Text
Mine at First Sight - Yandere! Feitan x Reader
Warnings: Yandere Feitan x Reader, F! Reader, Virginity, Forced Infantilism, Daddy Kink, Kidnapping, mention of collaring reader, mention of noncon/dubcom
Please respect my wishes and do not engage in my work unless you are over the age of eighteen.
Look at you, poor little darling girl. Do you even know what you're getting into? He smiles at the sight of you from across the dining table, your flushed cheeks and shy expression as he grabs your hand when you wave it around for emphasis as you tell him some story. Precious. Absolutely adorable.
He wasn't a fan of dating apps. He also wasn't lonely, and before this had not had a single care about not having a warm body in his bed at night. He hadn't even been the one to message you. That had been Phinks, the other spider snorting at some message you sent him. Feitan had glanced over, accidentally seeing the message you sent in reply to a request for nudes. Oh, how innocently you gave up the information of your inexperience. Phinks wasn't the kind to be interested in slowly guiding virgins who wouldn't even send saucy pics. Feitan normally wasn't either.
He wasn't sure why you enticed him. If he needed a fuck, it was easy enough to procure one in a warm cunt of some whore trying to trade sex for her life. He had to admit he was grateful to Phinks got to ghosting you the second Feitan told him to. The other spider did have a few good laughs over Feitan being in love, but it was worth dealing with in order to not have the headache of fighting another troupe member for your hand.
"I'm done." He announced, halfway through the meal. You stop your giggly tale, face filled with humiliation.
"Oh, um, okay. No problem." He smiles again at your response. Such a delicate thing. He isn't used to finding someone so charming, especially someone so pathetic.
"Get up." He commands, and you look so confused. He doesn't give you time to argue, not wanting to have you recieve a punishment so soon. He instead walks to your side of the table and yanks you up, ignoring your startled gasp. He sat your date next to an exit on purpose, pulling you out the door before any attention is drawn to you.
"Good girl, not screaming," he praises, ignoring the whimper of fear that leaves you. "I hate this dress." You looked pretty, but he had already decided he would be in charge of everything now, including what you wore. And this whorish red dress? It was much too slutty for his princess. He produces a knife, gagging you by shoving fingers down your throat when you open your mouth to protest. You drool around them, as he slices off your dress. The cold air would make you tremble, if you weren't already squirming in fear. He can't resist fucking his fingers further down your throat, as he hauls you to the car.
Shalnark chuckles from the front seat. "Sick man," He calls Feitan with an amused and chipper tone. Feitan sits in the back with you, beginning to dress you in your new outfit as Shalnark begins to speed down the street. He forces you into a top announcing you were, 'Daddy's Princess,' and a soft pair of cotton shorts. You don't notice the words on the shirt yet as you whimper from his manhandling, drool drenching your chin when he finally yanks his fingers from your mouth. He watches in amusement when you realize, your eyes widening in terror.
"Why are you upset?" He asks, as if he doesn't know. He doesn't give you time to answer. "That's what you are now." He licks your drool from his fingers, moaning at the taste of your saliva. You're addicting. If he didn't think he would get grief for it from Shalnark, he would fuck you right now. "Speed up." He tells Shalnark.
"Calm down, she isn't going to disappear!" Shalnark laughs, but obliges him. Feitan holds you close, ignoring the look of horror on your face. When they reach the hideout, he plans on taking your virginity. He's got a pretty pink collar, just for you, and some toys sweet little girls like you like. Feitan knows training you to happily play dolls will take time, but he can't wait.
He can get a warm cunt anywhere, after all. He can cause pain whenever he want to. But his beautiful girl, with those big innocent eyes sparking up at her Daddy? His princess, whining about five more minutes to play with her toys until he shuts her up with his cock? That's something special, just between the two of you. He couldn't wait.
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hellowyellow1 · 4 months
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Hi hi~ I love your works💕
I wanted to ask if you do fics for Feitan?
If so can I request a nsfw one where the reader is dating Feitan and just thinks he’s a cute try hard goth/emo dude. Until he shows her how he tortures people and she’s kinda into it.
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note: this is a commission piece if you too would like one dm it's currently free🥰
Warning: Nsfw, Graphic depiction of violence (I tried), Bdsm, Fmab
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Feitan was weird extremely incredibly weird, he was probably the most unique person you’ve ever met, and that says a lot considering you met his friends including the creepy clown. 
He hates bright colors anything besides black is a no-go and the only non-dark clothing was the red shirt you had gifted him, despite him claiming he hated it he still wore it to your joy.
He has the angriest stare you’ve ever seen, face scrunched up in displeasure while he fuses over everything and nothing. You never quite figured out why he was always angry and whenever you asked he just gently hit your head and told ‘you not to worry,’ so you didn’t.
English isn't his first language so every single sentence is structured weirdly no matter how short or curt it is, You always have to ask him to repeat himself especially when it’s an overly long rant. He hates it but you find it adorable which then makes him even angry and his broken angry-filled English will indicate that he's not adorable.
Yet his pouty lips and slightly blushed face would prove him entirely wrong, so you just chuckle and agree you both know you’re lying and it makes him both angry and pleased at the same time conflicting him.
He rarely smiles even when you cuddle but the one time you caught him, had been an awakening. Feitan never gets excited or at least you’ve never seen him excited which is why you’re confused as to why he has such a huge smile on his face. clothing covered in blood as he turned to you pulling his mask back up when he realized it had slipped off.
The basement was cold which might have been the reason you were shivering or perhaps it was the body lying on Feitan's table. The man was gagged, a steel muzzle covering his mouth and a huge iron collar wrapped around his neck trailing down to the table. The man's hand was also attached to the grimy table. 
“ You like?” Feitan asked with a muffled gleeful giggle as if he knew this was wrong, you stood on the stairs trying to also your head around what just happened. Feitan frowned not getting the reaction he wanted he grabbed the other person lying on the floor.
He drags a body toward you dropping it next to your feet with an audible splat. The person right eye’s was gauged out showing nothing but an empty socket dripping with blood. He held cuts everywhere shallow and yet painful. You looked up to Feitan who looked proud, eyes twinkling in the dark, It was the first time you’d ever seen such an expression.
It should leave you horrified this whole thing but all you could think was how cute he looked, blood covering his face reminding you of blush, highlighting his pale cheeks. His lip held a shallow cut blood dripping down his lips, Your feet step over the body still breathing harshly for air. You grab Fietan's face he looks confused eyes darting to the floor, then to yours, and then to your face.
Your lips touch tongue darting out to lick the blood from his lips it’s metallic slightly bitter and had no real flavor yet it was the most amazing thing you’ve ever tasted, your tongue pushing into the cut then into his mouth tracing over his teeth exploring something you've explored many times and yet still for some reason all of this felt different far more excited.
You part your lips saliva breaking away, he still looking at you confused, slowly blinking as his eyebrow furrowed “ Not scared?” he asked and you turned to stare at the body still breathing alive if just barely you could probably call the police, and could probably save them yet.
 You turn back to Fietan, your finger gripping his bloody shirt and letting go slowly tracing his chest you faintly feel it rise silently. Finger trailing over the blood unknowingly covering itself in the dark red dip tainting it. Grabbing his shirt you pull him forward dragging him through the house stepping over the body and up the stairs forcing him onto your bed.
You fall on it your hair a mess laying over you like a halo as you spread your leg wide
“ Not scared?” He asked eyelid slowly blinking and then raising, you simply smiled a small purr as you pulled him in for another kiss far more intense.
“ Bad girl,” he said, spoken with a giddy growl, His teeth showing as his hand grabbed onto your neck pushing it down “ Could kill if wanted to” he threatened leaning down his warm breath hitting against your neck as his fingers squeezed down imprinting onto your skin.
One small hand trailing down your hand cold as it slid across your skin making you shiver. Feitan reaches for his pants, you feel your heart thumping nothing but excitement.
You could feel a small portion of your panties getting wet, bucking your hips forward to feel his cock grinding against it whining and begging as Feitan's finger drops to his pants. You smile relief flooding your system, as you picture that perfect cock inside you feeling your hole to the brim giving the deliciously sweet thing of pleasure that courses through your body.
Instead, Feitan pulled out a knife small and thin, placing it on your skin the cold metal contrasting heavily with your flushed hot skin making you jump in surprise with an audible yip.
He chuckled when he felt your muscles twitch the fear delectable. As the knife begins to move sharp edge opens your skin with ease, blood gushing out in a small steady stream, the knife slides down curving your skin into a Beautiful design.
He pulled the knife away before plugging it back in deeper than before his sharp eyes staring down into your watery ones. Taking in the way your face was covered in tears with your petty flushed face and your gorgeous bloated lips painted in blood.
You looked like a mess no different from him,  face was also splattered with nothing but shades of red. He wondered if he could taste it, The knife digging into your chin forcing you to tip it up,       
His mouth covered your dominating tongue moving and pulling on your own, teeth biting down harshly on yours drawing blood and covering your lips and a far prettier shade of red. You mewled as he drew his teeth from your lip. Before diving back in swallowing your screams and cries as his fingers dip into one of your cuts lathering them in blood before sliding down creating a pretty red line that stopped at your pretty clit.
His finger was rough, and harsh he did not care how wet you were using nothing but blood and your wetness as lube, coating your thigh in the wet sticky feeling. For some reason that makes you more wet, the tight feeling in your lower stomach growing at the thought of something so messed up. 
Riding his fingers despite the morality and feeling euphoria creeping over you as the knife slices through your skin. His thumb pushed onto the cut forcing blood to gush out and soaking his white finger. Fietan leans down a small pink tongue darting out to lick at the cut forcing itself into the hole, You gasp and mew at the mix between pleasure and pain not being able to differentiate 
He trails up higher and higher till he finds your mouth once more pulling you into a kiss, As you scream and cry his sharp nails make crescent shapes on your skin digging in harshly unforgiving.
Fietan pulls away from the kiss successfully stealing your breath away his eyes glinting eerily with a sadistic smile, stroking your gorgeous bloated lips with his blood-stained hands. His smile was wide a tainted similar to your own as you tried to catch your breath mouth opened and widened in an attempt his hand snaggled against your neck robbing you of the pleasure of preswing down tell it felt impossible.
You gasp as his finger works overtime pushing you further and further, a black spot appearing in your vision, your lung aching for breath begging for anything and everything, and then nothing but whiteness.
At first, you thought you had died, but the ringing sound of something loud echoing through the air made you think otherwise. Til the white vanished and you were able to recognize that sound as yours. Your high calmed body shrill a shivering mess as it tried to relax from the biggest high you ever had you looked up at Fietan's eyes glinting and his lip curled up in the cutest smile you'd ever seen.
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teabutmakeitazure · 1 year
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Feitan's compliments are worse than his insults. His way of delivering them is overwhelmingly unnerving, and if you didn't know any better, the fact that his compliments are of a specific body part of yours would remain a mystery. You don't know why he's so particular about what he likes about you. Having once told you that you have beautiful hands had caused you to start sleeping with your hands tucked between your thighs in fear that you may wake up without them. He isn't above doing such a thing after all, his previous threats to your disobedience having permanently made themselves home in your mind.
Though the fear is there and is quite terrifying actually, you sometimes feel bad for reacting harshly to his attempts at complimenting you. Sigh. Perhaps you shouldn't have locked yourself in the bathroom. Him sneaking up on you while cooking to tell you that you have pretty eyes wasn't worse than a scare. You fear for your eyes now, but you also fear for what's about to happen to you now that his hand has broken a hole through the door and is unlocking it from the inside.
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novasdarling · 9 months
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Is soft Uvo and Feitan possible??
ok good question... see the thing is what is soft? Cause their idea of soft probably is vastly different than yours or the normal population. They're both mass murderers, but that doesn't always mean it passes into their relationships. They can be semi-normal and not scare the shit out of you... mostly *side eyes Feitan*
Tw: Yandere Behaviour, Mentions of Pain/Hurting Reader, Mentions of Kidnapping, Sex, Noncon
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Uvo is naturally rough around the edges...well he's just all rough edges tbh. He's loud, too strong for his own good, and is always physical with someone he cares about. BUT that doesn't mean he can't have a limit. That he can't understand you aren't like him or his other "friends". You're different. Different in how you make him feel and how strong you are. If he isn't careful he could kill you so easily. So he holds back. Is more gentle with touches. Even when being rough in bed, he still is holding back. Listening, waiting to hear the safe word in case he's gone too far. Perhaps it's cause he cares so much about you, or perhaps it's cause if he hurts you too much you'll be on bed rest for a while and he can't fuck you. Probably 50%/50%.
Now when it comes to being sweet and soft with emotions and gestures. Well, he's still odd about it. Yeah, he knows people like flowers, but theirs so many to choose from and you just get sad when they die. So instead, he'll help you plant a garden. Build you a raised garden bed. Help carry and pour those heavy bags of soil. He'll even bring you new plants to plant every so often.
When you're out in public, Uvo will always have a hand on you. Though he prefers having it rest on the small of your back(somehow always making it down to your ass without fail) or on the back of your neck when he feels like he needs to guide you in a crowded place. It's possessive and helpful. He likes to remind other's your his when he's forced to be around the general public. Having a cute little thing on his arm helps him put up with being around "lesser" folks. Helps him be so willing to go shopping with you. Especially if he can sneak a peak when you're in the dressing room.
Uvo also enjoys stealing things for you. Cute little gifts from his missions. Stuffed animals, an outfit he's dying to see you, jewels that would cost a fortune. He likes to spoil you, see you in things he picked out, that he gave you. It sets this possessive and demanding fire in him. Makes him giddy like a kid on Christmas. You're his number one treasure, so you should get the finest things he can steal.
He's big on physical affection, touches, kisses, and back rubs. He'll do anything to get his hands on you. Even if the occasion would deem it inappropriate. He doesn't give a damn, everyone can watch as he feels you up for all he cares. They can watch as he fucks you on the picnic blanket in the park if you'd let him. Just let him touch you, he's dying to. He'll whine and beg like a lovesick puppy. It's honestly adorable until he starts practically humping you out in public. Gaining a few wacks from you to stop. He won't until you promise when you get home you're all his for the taking.
Now if Uvo decided traditional dating isn't for him (or you found out his occupation) and he kidnaps you. Most still apply. Besides the obvious of not going out. He's just a bit more pushy, a bit more needy. You're there with him 24/7, unless he's working. In his mind, you should want him. You should entertain him. Should be at his will and mercy. Though he doesn't want you to hate him so he'll go slow. Try to win you with gifts, but his patience is limited. This version of him is less soft and just more greedy and demanding. He's still all over you like before, but now you don't have the excuse of "we're in public" anymore.
Feitan on the other hand....well... he's a loose cannon in the sense that you can't really understand him. Uvo you have no problem of understanding, I mean he's always talking and he can be honest when he wants something. Feitan though, he just stares, just observes. However, let's start off with if you two were in a semi-normal traditional relationship.
He can be kind of normal, in the sense he understands the process and steps of dating. You ask them out, they say yes, you go on dates, you fall in love...etc. He understands that's how it goes. Just not how to actually do it. So, he watches. He observes you before introducing himself. He takes notes. Learning what you're like. What you're personality is about. Once he's confident he moves in.
Soft Feitan is odd... cause he's still terrifying and always glaring. But his eyes soften when they land on you. There's that glint of happiness hiding in there. All held for you.
He listens to you, always letting you talk as much as you want. He prefers it that way, drinking in every little bit of information you give him. Memorizing your likes and dislikes. Taking in how that bitch co-worker of yours keeps crossing the line. An issue he'll take care of soon. He listens, showing he cares.
Like Uvo, Feitan also enjoys getting you little gifts. Stealing things he knows will make you smile. He remembers you said green was your favourite colour, well here's a green sweater. Oh, you said you loved sapphires. Well, how funny. The place he robbed had tons of sapphire jewellery, here you go. Your favourite thing is breakfast for dinner. Luckily he's taking you to a restaurant that does just that. He'll let you drag him anywhere you want, let you spend as much time together as you deemed necessary unless he has to work. He lets you have this image like you're in control. Like you call the shots, but he knows when need be. He'll have to end it and show you the control he's always possessed.
Feitan's softness comes from his ability to observe and listen. That it isn't just about him, but he does want it to be more about you. Even his touches are careful, he doesn't want to move too fast. Doesn't want to scare you off, or make you feel uncomfortable. His true nature is already bad enough. He wants you to want him before he shows you all of him and your love grows to fear.
He knows one day he'll have to take you, have to lock you away and he knows what that'll do to you. What that'll do to your relationship. It sucks, but it's better than you running off when you find out the truth. So he'll keep you locked away. Keep you safe with him. He's more distant after this, and goes back into observing from the shadows while you wander around and try to find an unlocked door or a weakness in his home. He pitties you, pitties the determination you have. He pitties your weakness.
Between the two. Uvo is softer in the realm he will bend to your wishes more easily, especially when you're using sex as a bargaining tool when he has you locked away. You can gain more from him like that. While Feitan is more set on his own plan. His own ideas. That what needs to be done is to be done. No questions asked. No change in plan.
Both lovesick fools, just in different ways. Uvo is more out there. More willing to be out with you. Carrying your bags. Driving you from place to place. Willing to be your date for any event. Taking you shopping every so often (totally not with money he got from selling stolen merch). Hands all over you. While Feitan is more of an awkward silent partner. Following you around, whether you know it or not. Letting you take somewhat of the lead when you two are dating. He's just trying to figure you out, figure out how this all works and he'll do it by watching. By silently doing things for you.
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ddarker-dreams · 1 year
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Hedonist.
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Yan Chrollo x F Reader x Yan Feitan. 
Continuation of Declawed.
Warnings: Not SFW, dubcon (Reader is under the influence of aphrodisiacs), yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, unbalanced power dynamics. Word count: 7.5k. 
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You are in a room with four walls.
How you got here does not matter. You know you may not leave.
Behind a closed set of drapes lies a window. 
In this room with no past or future, there is but one choice you can make.
Will you peer beyond the curtains or leave them drawn? 
For if you choose to look, there is no telling what you may see. 
… 
“... [First].” 
“Hm?” 
You’re someplace different than where your mind alleged. This is not your coveted room with four, blank walls, where no one can come or go. You’re sitting at a dining room table that tilts too far to the left. There’s an untouched meal in front of you, a cup of tea that’s gone cold, and a napkin folded over your lap just the way you prefer. 
A man sits across from you — Chrollo Lucilfer. He’s staring at you, his fingers steepled, and his body leaning forward. His meal has long been finished. You blink, feeling like a computer that’s booting back up. The fog covering your senses lifts too slowly for your liking. Eventually, a blueprint of your surroundings solidifies in your mind. 
There are three people in the surrounding area, excluding yourself. Two are a formidable threat. One is not. 
“You seem distracted,” Chrollo’s voice gives nothing away. His eyes do though, just a little bit. Concern? Intrigue? You cannot pinpoint where each ends and begins. “That’s unusual for you.” 
You hate when he’s right. “I’d pay more attention if you said anything worthwhile.” 
His lips quirk up. “Is your health not worthwhile?” 
He’s got you where he wants you.
“If you’re truly concerned about my health, then you’ll return my Hatsu,” you maintain unflinching eye contact. He exhales through his nose, belying slight exasperation. “The events of today should prove I’d do better with it from the onset.” 
“In emergencies, yes. And I did return it. Long enough for you to dispatch the threat… and to hurt Feitan’s feelings, evidently.” 
You ignore his last comment, seriously doubting its authenticity. 
“One of the threats, at least,” you make a show of looking him up and down. He sighs, probably heavier than he intended, the chaotic past twenty-four hours undoubtedly weighing him down. Sensing that this particular conversation is better off over, he reclines back into his chair. Instead of mirroring his posture, you cross your legs, fold your gloved hands together, and rest them on your lap. You’re doing everything within your power to give the impression nothing is amiss. 
Alas, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Something is very, very wrong with you. 
It all began with an ambush on the car ride to this safe house. Assassins are par for the course in your line of work, it wasn’t your first encounter and you doubt it’ll be the last. The main problem was that for the first time in your life, you were fighting without your Hatsu in a situation that would’ve strongly benefited from its use. The group focused their attention on you and the Manipulator must’ve met his conditions for his ability to activate. A strange sensation swept over and temporarily debilitated you. Chrollo was quick to notice how you staggered — truthfully, you played it close to the chest to see if he’d risk returning your Hatsu should you be in mortal peril — a gamble that did and didn’t pay off.
It felt like a piece of your soul had been returned to you. Your conjured sword sliced down your three pursuers, they were entirely caught off guard by its appearance. That left you without about a second to retaliate with your briefly returned arsenal until Chrollo realized what you were planning. Ideally, you would’ve preferred to attack Chrollo, since your win condition lay in either killing him or removing his ability to conjure Bandit’s Secret. He was aware of this and kept just enough distance for that very reason. 
It had been Feitan who risked getting the closest to prevent the assassins from doing you any major harm in light of your lackluster dodging. Both he and Chrollo must’ve recognized what you were trying to do and likely considered you more of a threat than the assassin trio. You tried not to be obvious about your intentions, but they’re too sharp. 
The second long window you had felt like more than enough to seriously injure Feitan. While your physical strength had been on the lower side compared to the other Troupe members, you were faster; far outclassing the others in that particular skill set. This boon came with its own share of disadvantages, such as your tendency to tire faster in a fight if it dragged on for hours. However, you were finally in a uniquely advantageous position. You had conserved your strength in case an opening presented itself, and although it almost landed you in hot water to not go all out against three opponents, it ultimately worked in your favor. 
You lunged forward at Feitan with what should’ve been a definitive strike. The speed was there, but the power was not; the Manipulator’s unknown ability weakened you far more than you’d anticipated. It was only recently that you realized his Nen must’ve strengthened in death. It felt mostly inconsequential when you first experienced it; you didn’t think to leave the Manipulator alive as a safeguard. 
Feitan withstood the hit with some minor injuries. Your Hatsu no longer heeded your call, proof that Chrollo had taken it back. You were subdued, Feitan being far rougher than necessary and grumbling under his breath. For the past few hours, you’ve refocused all your energy toward keeping whatever that Manipulator did to you under control without giving your captors a glimpse of your weakened state. This control is steadily waning. Meditation aided you for a time, but you can tell it's growing in intensity, hence your current predicament. 
Your body’s temperature is steadily rising. At first, you hypothesized the ability is supposed to make you mortally ill, but your gut tells you that isn’t the entire picture. Aside from feeling warm and not having all your strength, you don’t believe you’re knocking on death’s door. The symptoms don’t point toward anything that serious. It’s almost as if it made you want something — there’s this primal craving inside you, trying desperately to claw its way to the surface. 
Whatever you’re currently riddled with, it's excruciating. You don’t know how much more you can take or how to put a stop to it. 
There had been a fourth party whose tracking ability led the assassins to you in the first place. After watching his comrades get eviscerated, his Zetsu wavered, giving away his position. Feitan is playing with his new toy in the basement. It’s been in the back of your mind that this fourth man might know the Manipulator’s ability. That’s why you’ve been so desperate to keep the extent of your malaise under wraps, lest Feitan learns something imperative and keeps you in the dark about it. It’ll ultimately be Chrollo’s decision, but you know they’re both not happy with your little stunt earlier. If they learn it’s nothing too detrimental, they’ll let you suffer through it as a punishment. 
“May I be excused?” You inquire with the politest tone you can muster. 
Chrollo motions to your untouched plate. “You haven’t eaten.” 
You knew this would be a point of contention. Not due to any rampant concern on his part, you both know that you’re capable of surviving without food for long periods. He’s just using this as an opportunity to see what’s truly wrong with you — he has to have his suspicions by now. You glance down at your meal. Grilled chicken, leafy greens, and a scoop of rice. The ultra-healthy regiment that Chrollo knows you favor and Feitan complains about. You still remember the look the latter gave you when you wrote chickpeas on the grocery list. 
Lying is a useless endeavor when Chrollo’s involved, he can see past your poker face without issue. Telling the truth is your best bet. “I don’t have an appetite.” 
He makes a show of looking at his watch. “You always have dinner at this time of day.” 
“There’s nothing I can do if I don’t feel hungry now. I’ll eat it in the morning.” 
You know how he loathes food being wasted and try to redirect his attention toward that. This time, you phrase it as a statement rather than a question. Chrollo gives you a long, silent look. His gray eyes pick you apart without any subtlety. He parts his lips, preparing to say something, when his attention shifts elsewhere. 
A blur comes flying your way. From reflex alone, you catch it. A first aid kit? Feitan stands at the kitchen doorway where it must’ve been thrown, wearing a black sleeveless shirt. You stop yourself from frowning. You should’ve been able to sense his presence. Any other time, doing so comes as easy as breathing, but your senses are off-kilter. You can only hope that the ease with which you caught the first aid kit covered this blunder. 
Considering the weight of Chrollo’s stare, that might be a far-fetched dream. 
“Fix this,” Feitan nods at the untreated gash on his right arm, courtesy of your earlier attack. Cutting any synovial hinge joint would have proved helpful, especially against a swordsman like Feitan. Seeing the wound up close shows your aim was slightly off. The attack landed too low on his forearm. You can’t remember the last time you made a mistake like this — it must’ve been back when you were a child. If it weren’t for that Manipulator’s ability, you would be in a far better situation right now.
The chair scrapes against the floor when Feitan pulls it out. Not seeing the point in making his mood worse, you wordlessly take the steps to comply with his demand. You go to the kitchen sink, remove your leather gloves, and wash your hands. The cool water running over your skin feels heavenly. However, you notice a damning detail while you dry yourself off. 
Your hands are shaking. 
You don’t stare at the impending problem so as not to draw unwanted attention. Your body's homeostasis is deteriorating faster than you can manage it. Or, to be more accurate, the ability’s strength must be advancing over time. Any half-decent Nen user should be capable of controlling their body temperature, respiratory rate, blood pressure, and heart rate, or else your aura suffers. You’ll have to pick your poison here. If you focus mostly on your hands, you should be able to stop the shaking for a time. Consequently, that’ll leave your fever unchecked. 
You need to get this over with quickly. 
After putting on surgical gloves and a mask, you situate yourself next to Feitan. 
“Planning operation?” He asks, amusement in his voice. 
“This is far from a sterile environment. I’m taking the necessary precautions to prevent an infection,” you soak a gauze pad in saline solution then dab it against his wound. You’re glad the mask is covering half your face, since you’re unable to stop yourself from frowning. Beating yourself up over your past mistakes won’t do any good, yet you can’t help feeling mildly disappointed seeing your botched work up close. Who knows when you’ll get an opportunity like that again? 
You’re about to wrap it in a bandage when Feitan speaks up again. “Need stitches?” 
Your fingers twitch despite yourself. He’s intentionally trying to rile you up. You won’t let him. 
“... No.” 
He snickers, his eyebrows rising, adding to his air of condescension. “Why?”
“It’s too shallow of a cut.”
“Heh.” 
What a bastard. You momentarily consider the merits of stabbing him with one of the needles in the kit. The temporary satisfaction wouldn’t be worth the trouble it’d cause you later on, you decide. You’ve endured several torments from Feitan up until this point without ever acknowledging his efforts. Truthfully, you don’t understand what exactly it is Feitan wants from you. Chrollo is easier to understand in that one aspect. Your (former?) boss wants your relationship to return to what it was before — he said so outright using words sweet enough to make your teeth ache. 
Feitan has been far less forthcoming with his motivations. He barely talks to you aside from scathing remarks, doesn’t sleep in the same room as you and Chrollo, and frequently goes missing for days at a time. All you have to go off of is the conversation he had with Chrollo the night you gave up your Hatsu in return for Ash’s safe passage. He said he was ‘interested’ in you. It was Chrollo he told this, so you know he wouldn’t lie. He couldn’t have been vaguer if he tried. 
Did he mean ‘interested’ sexually? Romantically? It’s no secret that Feitan is a sadist, but he’s never made passes at you. You don’t think he’d be the type to beat around the bush if he wanted something like that. You’ve caught him staring a few times yet always chalked it up to him thinking you’re about to pull a stunt. Then again, you’re entirely ignorant to whatever agreement Chrollo and Feitan have over you. 
Outwardly, it looks the same as it’s always been. Chrollo gives orders and Feitan obeys them. 
So why is it that your instinct whispers there’s far more to the dynamic than Feitan being an uninterested third party? 
You secure a bandage around his forearm then turn away from him and Chrollo. It’d be nice if enduring the humiliation of tending to the subpar wound you inflicted is your entire punishment, but you somehow doubt that. You know your body well and your limits even better, loathe as you are to admit you have any. Exhaustion is nipping at your heels while the night is still young. The thought of lying down, even if it’s just for a few hours, sounds divine. 
“I’m finished,” you tell Feitan, sensing his eyes on your back while you throw the mask and gloves away. “Was there anything else you needed?” 
“Your hands. Show me.”
You stop turning the faucet on to spare him a glance over your shoulder. “May I ask why?” 
“You can. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” 
Your eyes flicker to Chrollo next, who has remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout this interaction. The closed-mouth smile he’s giving you promises nothing good. He knows you’re hiding something — they both know you are. They’re worse than sharks smelling blood in the water. You’ve been delaying the inevitable to the best of your abilities, but this game of cat-and-mouse can’t last forever.
Resigning yourself to your fate, you take a step forward, only for a bout of lightheadedness to come crashing down. You’re forced to grab the kitchen counter to steady yourself, the granite splintering beneath the intensity of your grip, crumbling to the ground in a noisy cascade. You swear you’re seeing double when you stare down at the ground, your heart rate accelerating and breathing turning erratic. Deep breaths are taken in an attempt to steady yourself.
Immediately, there’s a presence by your side, then a delightfully cold touch against your forehead. You try not to lean into it. 
“Burning up,” Feitan remarks. He moves his hand back, and you almost keen at the loss, a factor that is as mortifying as it is perplexing. You tell yourself it’s because your body wants to regain proper equilibrium by cooling itself off. There can be no other explanation. You’re coming down with a fever, you’ll rest, and this will be over. Simple as that. 
Chrollo makes his way over to you like he has all the time in the world, his countenance giving nothing away. “He was telling the truth, then?” 
“Guess so.” 
“What… what are you both talking about?” You inquire, all the while trying and failing to push yourself up. You, a person capable of wielding an ax that weighs 4,000 pounds with ease, can’t even stand up straight. It’s a miracle your legs haven’t given out beneath you yet. 
“Feitan has been interrogating the man in the basement,” Chrollo reaches into his back pocket to grab something, a napkin, by the looks of it. He holds it up at your eye level. You blink, having to strain so that the word scribbled on it can come into focus. The messy handwriting must belong to Feitan. “I wanted to wait and see it for myself before believing him.” 
You almost get sick when the word finally registers. 
Aphrodisiac.
Feitan must’ve scribbled this note down and handed it to Chrollo. You weren’t in a good position to be perceptive of your surroundings, otherwise, you would’ve surely noticed. 
Chrollo reaches out for you, his fingers settling beneath your chin and lifting it. Your eyelids flutter shut, the simple skin-to-skin contact exhilarating, made even better when his thumb brushes over your lower lip. He gives a content hum over your willingness to accept his touch for the first time in several months. It’s a surreal sensation — how your senses can be both heightened and capable of blocking out so much — your brain is unwilling to register anything aside from the men before you. You’re backed against the now broken countertop when Chrollo advances impossibly closer, his chest pressing against yours. 
“You must’ve been suppressing it through sheer willpower all this time. I’m impressed,” he sounds like it too. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, dear, but this won’t be going away on its own.”
Chrollo’s lips caress the shell of your ear, and his hands start creeping down your body while he speaks. “You need only say the word and we’ll satisfy you. Otherwise, it’ll progress to the point it’s unbearable. I don’t exactly enjoy watching you suffer, whether you believe me or not. So be a dear and—” 
However he intended to end that sentence will forever remain a mystery. It stokes something inside you, rekindling the dying embers of your pride. Bloodlust radiates off you in tangible waves, cracking the glass of a nearby window. The miasma surrounding you is thick and potent. Harnessing the remnants of your strength, you press your hands to Chrollo’s chest, shoving him away with all your might. He stumbles back yet quickly steadies himself. 
“Do not touch me,” you seethe, the words more of a growl than anything. 
Aura envelops Feitan, who must be anticipating further resistance. The flow stops as soon as it begins when Chrollo puts a hand up to stop him. Silence loudly resounds in the tight quarters you’re forced to share with them. You feel akin to a cornered cat, hackles raised and teeth bared. There’s nothing practical you can do — it’s maddening to acknowledge that. You’re entirely at their mercy. 
And you know neither of them have any to give. 
Chrollo sighs, straightening the wrinkles on his shirt your outburst caused. “You’re making this needlessly difficult for yourself, [First].” 
“Just… knock me unconscious until it subsides, or something,” you grit out through clenched teeth. The ghosts of Feitan’s touch against your forehead and Chrollo’s fingers upon your lips haunt you. It’s as if all levels of higher thinking ceased the second they came into contact with you. “I can’t… I refuse…!” 
“Stubborn woman. Not normally this stupid,” Feitan clicks his tongue. “It’s Nen. Doesn’t work like that.” 
You grip your head with your hands. It hurts. It’s hot. Lascivious need wraps its tendrils around you and squeezes. Your body is no longer heeding the orders of your mind. You can smell Chrollo’s cologne — sandalwood, amber — as well as the metallic scent of blood clinging to Feitan. You shouldn’t have pushed him away. You should’ve let him touch you, please you, satiate this voracious appetite that won’t go away on its own. It’s been so long, far too long. He said it wouldn’t go away on its own, didn’t he? How much longer can you fight it off? 
More importantly, do you even want to fight anymore? 
You take an unsteady step forward, your head hanging long, allowing for a shadow to fall over your eyes. Your hand reaches for Chrollo’s belt yet never meets its destination. An undignified noise leaves your lips as you’re scooped up, your cheeks burning and eyes shooting wide open. Your instinct is to struggle, but when you feel a hand press beneath your thighs to steady you, your brain turns to mush. The touch isn’t anything special, though your body acts like it is. You can feel an unnatural amount of wetness staining your panties. Consequently, you rub your thighs together, hoping to alleviate some of the desperate need for friction. 
A deep, dark chuckle reverberates in Chrollo’s chest. “She’s precious, isn’t she, Fei?” 
Feitan doesn’t confirm or deny, though you can feel his eyes boring into you. “Not mad at her?” 
“That can wait for later. For now, though…” he trails off, his voice lowering in pitch and volume. “Aren’t you interested in savoring her to the fullest?” 
You don’t remember the trip to the bedroom. 
There’s the faint sound of rushed footsteps, creaky door hinges groaning, shoes being thrown aside, and the rustling of fabric. Your heartbeat rises to a crescendo when you’re placed on the bed, anticipation gnawing at you. The room is dripping with tension and a sick part of yourself relishes in it. You prop yourself up on your elbows only to find yourself getting pushed not so gently back down. 
Feitan is leering at you from above, his eyes like that of a madman. 
Not a word is uttered as you glare back up at him. Without his cowl, you can see every inch of his countenance, the cruel curve of his lips, and the upward incline of his eyebrows. There’s no time to dwell on the negative emotions such a feral stare instills, for you register movement coming from behind. Familiar toned arms wrap around your torso. Chrollo pulls you onto his lap, your back flush against his broad chest. His lips lovingly caress the shell of your ear, grazing the sensitive flesh with his teeth. 
“Are you ashamed, [First]?” He taunts, his voice taking on a husky tinge. “A woman of your status offering herself over so willingly to two depraved men… I can’t fathom how bruised your ego must be.” 
This compromising position must do something for him. You feel his hardened length poking at your ass, betraying his arousal. 
“Neither of you are capable of harming my ego.” 
You exhale sharply when he tugs your head back by your hair. 
“Casuistry is unbecoming of you, dear.” 
“Is that what that was…?” You trail off, trying not to show how good it feels when Chrollo latches his lips to your neck. “Are you so caught up in your own delusions that you fail to recognize this is about satisfying a biological function, not an expression of passion?” 
You’re grateful for your high pain tolerance when Chrollo sinks his teeth into your skin, hard enough to leave a mark for the days that’ll follow. He lavishes his tongue against it afterward, his chest vibrating from a quiet chuckle. 
“Talks too much,” Feitan grumbles. For a moment, you wonder if he's referring to you or Chrollo. “Gag?” 
“Unnecessary. We wouldn’t want to miss out on the sounds she’s going to make, would we?” 
This line of reasoning seems to satisfy Feitan. Unlike Chrollo, who treats undressing you as if it were a form of foreplay itself, Feitan is rough with your clothes. You’d almost think they offended him somehow. You wince at the sound of ripping. The black fabric covering your torso flutters to the side, revealing the swell of your cleavage. Perspiration clings to you in a thin sheen from your body’s meager attempts to cool down. You swear you hear Feitan’s breath shudder when his sallow fingers descend on your chest. 
He’s far from gentle with his exploration of the soft flesh. He kneads and pulls, giving little heed to what you find pleasurable. Then his pointer finger and thumb find your nipple, visible through your nude-colored bra. A special sadistic delight is taken in twisting the nub and observing the subsequent parting of your lips in a high-pitched gasp. 
“... Cute,” he comments. Your fingers twitch, indignation spurring you on to try and strike him, a rebellion Chrollo ends prematurely by holding your dominant arm in place. He uses enough pressure that you wouldn’t be surprised if the skin bruises in the shape of his hand. 
“Now now, there’s no need to resort to violence, is there?” Chrollo’s voice is akin to nails on a chalkboard. The irony of a mass-murdering thief preaching this platitude isn’t lost on you. 
Feitan quirks up an eyebrow when you jut your head to the side, your teeth clenching and cheeks burning. Damn them both. 
“Ego hurt yet?” Feitan croons. 
You recenter yourself to the best of your abilities, considering every cell in your body is screaming for a return to primal instinct. They’re both dead wrong if they think you’re going to roll over and take everything they dish out. Perhaps it’ll spell more trouble for you further down the line, but the logical side of your brain which normally dominates is waning. You wrench yourself forward with enough force that Chrollo has to lessen his grip on your arm, lest he dislocate it. Maybe there is some truth behind his earlier claim that he ‘doesn’t enjoy watching you suffer’, or maybe the lack of bloodlust clues him in that you aren’t up to anything nefarious. 
Whatever the case, this momentum and easing up of your restraints grants the freedom to do what you plan next. Your hands, marred with dark lines along the veins from Corruption’s improper usage many years prior, hold Feitan’s face in place. His shock is evident by the lack of movement on his part when your lips press against his. Your clammy skin derives satisfaction from how unnaturally cold his body is. 
This is the closest thing you’ve gotten to relieving the gnawing need that’s been threatening to devour you from the inside out. 
In the millisecond it takes for him to comprehend what’s happening, he secures back what little power you temporarily held over him. His kiss is rough, demanding, and clearly inexperienced. You’re too far gone to care. You make a show of kissing him with every ounce of languid affection you once bestowed upon the man behind you, your head tilting to the side and back arching to press further into him. Something between a groan and a grunt leaves Feitan when your hand seeks out his clothed length, palming at it until it fully hardens. 
This temporary rebalancing of power mixed with finally feeding the carnal hunger within you is invigorating, sending adrenaline through your veins. Feitan nips at your lower lip and you grant him access to your mouth. His tongue seeks out yours in a dance you never thought you’d willingly participate in. The world is fuzzy, an unintelligible string of blurred shapes and colors you can’t make any sense of. All that registers to you is an all-encompassing desire to succumb to lust’s bittersweet embrace. 
Is this what it’s like to be drunk? Stuck in a pleasant haze where the slightest stimulation feels far better than it should, potential consequences be damned?
When you part for air, a thin trail of saliva connects you. 
“Still wish to gag me?” You goad, unwilling to resist making a jab at his expense. He enjoyed that far too much for you not to sneak in a snide comment.
Feitan smirks. “Not with rag.” 
He then looks to Chrollo, as if silently asking permission for something. Evidently, he must receive it, for the rest of your outfit is torn from your person. What would’ve irritated you in any other circumstance comes as an immense relief now. The heat enveloping you is stupefying. Cognition is overshadowed by a primal need you never could’ve thought yourself capable of. You’ll do anything to offset this unique torture, the likes of which you’ve never been forced to endure.
You’re left in nothing but your sheer black tights and bra, your chest heaving in a desperate bid to get enough oxygen. Sweat trickles down your temple. 
Every inch of your body is so unusually sensitive, as if your nerve endings have multiplied. The science behind whatever the Manipulator’s ability did intrigues you. Did it decrease activity in your prefrontal cortex, making long-term planning near impossible? Excite the endocrine system in a way that encourages sexual arousal? Trick your brain into activating fight or flight if you’re not being stimulated? 
The relationship between science and Nen has always fascinated you. Regrettably, you’re not in the headspace to conduct research. It’s growing increasingly difficult to form so much as a coherent thought.
Behind you, Chrollo undoes the clasp of your bra, revealing your chest in its entirety to both men. If there was ever any doubt that Feitan’s interest in you is lascivious in nature, his current expression dispels it. He looks at you like one would a piece of tantalizing meat. You never would’ve thought Feitan was sexually attracted to you by the indifferent air he normally held. In retrospect, you wonder if that was his way of trying to keep his impulses under control until the timing was right. 
“Lift yourself up for me, dear,” Chrollo uses such gentle words, but his tone tells you this is an order. You do as he requests. From this angle, he’s able to help pull your tights down by the waistband. It’s a slow, tedious process; he acts as if he has all the time in the world, inching the delicate fabric down to reveal your thighs. You shiver when his fingernails scrape at your skin. It takes everything you have to hold back a sinful moan at the teasing contact. 
“I hadn’t realized tights were so sacred to you,” you say. He had no objections when Feitan tore at the rest of your custom-tailored outfit. 
You can hear the smile on his face when he replies, “There’s only this one pair, whereas we have other clothes for you. It’d be a shame to not see you in something that complements your features so well.” 
“How very considerate.” 
Feitan helps pull it off once it gets to your knees, using a degree of care you thought him incapable of. It must be because his boss willed the action. He spreads your legs without any resistance, his eyes fixating on your covered core. Evidence of your arousal seeps through. It’s a sight that causes Feitan to mutter something in his language that you suspect to be an expletive.
A silver streak soars through your vision. You go motionless, allowing Chrollo to slice through your panties with his Ben’s Knife. 
You glare at him from the corner of your eye. “Are you trying to kill me? What strange paraphilias you’ve developed since we’ve last been intimate.” 
“I was confident in your ability to stay still,” Chrollo’s fingers linger right above your clit, refusing to touch the one place you begrudgingly desire him most. “Besides, we both know a little poison wouldn’t put your life in serious danger. Give yourself more credit, sweetheart.” 
The audacity of this man is astounding. 
Chrollo spreads your folds for Feitan’s viewing pleasure. 
“Isn’t she just lovely?” Chrollo practically purrs, his baritone voice causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin, despite the internal heat afflicting you. “You can touch her, Fei. She won’t bite.” 
It’s an invitation he can’t turn down. 
Without warning, two fingers are thrust inside you. You tense at the unexpected intrusion and have to tell your muscles to relax. Fortunately, there’s enough natural lubrication that it doesn’t hurt as bad as it could’ve. You suppose it should come as no surprise that the man with an affinity for torture isn’t tender in bed. He cackles at your visceral reaction, but you have no chance to retaliate, for he pulls his fingers back out and slams them back in. Dull discomfort quickly transitions to a deep, satisfying feeling. Chrollo further enforces it by finally rubbing precise circles just the way you like on your clit. 
You squeeze your eyes shut and lull your head to the side. Digging deep into the recesses of your hazy mind, you try to block out who exactly is touching you like this, wanting to focus on the pleasure and nothing else. 
Chrollo must have a rough idea of what you’re trying to do. He sighs, as if disappointed, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to face downward. 
“Open your eyes, or we’ll stop,” he whispers. You bite down on your lower lip hard enough to almost bleed. “Oh, [First]. I know very well that you aren’t a prude. Come now. Don’t make me ask again.” 
Your eyelashes flutter open like butterfly wings. From the position he’s holding your head, you have nowhere to look but at Feitan’s fingers slipping in and out of you, a lewd sight that makes you whimper. Maybe you’ll berate yourself for your weakness when you’re in a lucid mindset. For now, however, you’re starting to lift your hips to meet his relentless assault. You feel no better than a vacuous animal, yet embarrassment is the furthest thing on your mind. The word has been wiped clean from your lexicon. 
With how sensitive your body is in this state, it doesn’t take long for that knot in your stomach to tighten. You’re panting, your head is thrown back, taking in each wave of overwhelming stimuli. Chrollo’s lips caressing your neck’s pulse, the friction on your clit, and Feitan’s fingers exploring your insides. It’s too much. The air is heady with the scent of sex, Chrollo’s cologne, and the metallic blood splattered on Feitan. 
You’re so close, your walls clenching and the muscles in your thighs going taut— 
—When they both abruptly stop. 
Breathlessly, you murmur ‘wretched sadists’ in your native tongue.
“Him more so than me,” Chrollo replies. In your frustration, you forgot he was making good progress in learning your country’s language. Soon you won’t even have that to keep for yourself. He’ll have invaded every inch of your life and claimed it for himself. 
Feitan brings his slick-covered pointer and middle finger close to your face. He parts them, observing the string of your arousal it forms with an amused expression. 
“Needy thing,” he snickers. 
He takes his fingers into his mouth, then gives a low hum, apparently enjoying your taste. When the digits slide back out, they’re coated in both his saliva and your essence. You grimace when he places them on your closed lips next, your obsession with hygiene temporarily triumphing over the aphrodisiac’s effects. Feitan frequently poked fun at how you wiped away blood and viscera should any have gotten on your person after a kill. You’ve never been partial to uncleanliness, although you could deal with it just fine when necessary. 
Knowing Feitan, he’s likely getting off on your discomfort. 
“Open,” he demands. You do with some reluctance, tasting yourself on your tongue. Your unusual obedience seems to please him. “Good girl.” 
You narrow your eyes into slits then, warmth flooding your face. He’s the last person you’d ever want to give you a compliment like that. Condescension is an area that both Chrollo and Feitan excel in. Chrollo’s is often more subtle, taking a moment’s consideration to fully comprehend, whereas Feitan is cruelly blunt. You can’t decide which is worse. 
The bed dips as Chrollo readjusts himself. Feitan moves to the side, giving Chrollo plenty of room to do whatever he wants with you next. Your former boss unbuttons his shirt and tosses it aside. His hands go to your shoulders, pushing in a silent communication for you to lay back. If it weren’t for the unfair condition you’re currently plagued with, you would’ve had some choice words at the ready. Especially when he strokes your cheekbone with the back of his knuckles, softly, as a lover would. You internally curse at how your traitorous body leans into his touch. 
The distinct sound of Chrollo undoing his belt catches your attention. 
After ridding himself of his remaining clothes, he lifts your left leg over his shoulder, an enigmatic gleam in his gray eyes. You feel his tip rub teasingly over your folds, gathering your abundant wetness. Proving to you just how desperately your body wants this — wants him. He’s trying to make a point. You imagine you must be quite the sight to him, all disheveled like this. Forcefully dragged out from your icy shell of propriety. Your hair which is normally styled in an updo is loose and forming twirls against the bed, your chest is rising and falling erratically, and your aura is a mess. 
In this moment, you’ve essentially been reduced to a civilian. 
You both let out content noises when he enters you. Your walls convulse around him, taking him in with ease, despite how long it’s been since you’ve had sex. It’s as if your body is telling you that it remembers him, no matter how hard you try to forget. In the dark of night, you sometimes wonder if Chrollo knows you better than you know yourself. He’s committed every little nuance about you to memory. Your preferences, likes and dislikes; he’s showcasing his mastery over you by providing the pleasure only he can. 
You shudder when he fully sheathes himself inside you. It makes the aphrodisiac swallowing you whole slightly more bearable, quelling the fire just enough that you no longer feel you’re being burned. 
Feitan lazily jerks himself off at your indecent expressions, breathing heavily as he pumps his reddened cock up and down. 
“You’re a cruel woman, depriving me of this for so long,” Chrollo takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them above you. “I’ve longed for your body terribly, love. It belongs here — underneath me.” 
By the way your face contorts, he must be able to tell that he won’t like whatever your reply will be, so he sets out to steal the air from your lungs. An undignified whimper leaves your lips at the rough pace he establishes from the onset. You’d almost think it was him under the influence of the aphrodisiac and not you. There’s no gradual, sensual buildup, just skin slapping against skin as he fucks you without mercy. You want to grab ahold of something, anything to steady yourself in the unforgiving onslaught of ecstasy, but his grip on you is unrelenting. Your limbs feel like jello, incapable of displaying your usual strength to break free from his hold. 
Sensing your intentions, as he almost always does, he coos, “If you want something, then be a dear and beg.” 
There’s a darkness in his voice that’s never been directed at you before. An underlying desperation. Chrollo craves you, longs for you, and you’ve denied him his greatest desire. He has no right to sigh and brood over your refusal to go back to how things were, before he betrayed your trust. You let him into your world. Granted him access to parts of yourself that have never seen the light of day, tentatively opened your heart bit by bit. 
Only that alone couldn’t satisfy him. He needed more than your heart. Your mind, your soul, your body; your very being. And you weren’t willing to give him that. Not then, not now, not ever. So you purse your lips, glaring up at him with all the defiance you can muster in this weakened state. 
He chuckles at the ferocity in your eyes, though it’s a humorless sound. Bitter, almost. 
“My stubborn girl,” Chrollo whispers in your native tongue. “Try as you might, you’ll never be rid of me. I won’t even let you go in death.” 
“I’ll— mm— have to test that theory.” 
Something passes over his face then. Is it exasperation? Dismay? Hurt? 
“Go ahead then,” he says. You’ve never seen this look in his eyes. “Do your worst.” 
An odd sensation sweeps over you then. You furrow your eyebrows together, trying to place it, all the while Chrollo increases his speed. This is a phenomenon you’ve experienced and recently at that. It’s akin to puzzle pieces fitting together, everything falling back into its proper place. Then it hits you, the realization causing your eyes to widen and your breath to catch in your throat. 
This bastard just returned your Hatsu. 
You try (and fail) to lift your head. You can barely think straight, much less properly harness your mess of an aura. Being condemned to an eternity of hunger and thirst with food and drink receding from your reach would be preferable to this. It’s wicked; it’s Chrollo making good on his surname. His cock twitches inside you at your futile struggle. He hits a spot in you that makes you keen, you ruined orgasm from earlier growing closer and closer. 
“What are you waiting for?” Chrollo challenges in between soft pants. “Have I rendered one of your country’s best fighters incapable of making a single strike? Hm?” 
“That isn’t—” your own mewl cuts you off, “This is… not fair…!"
He shakes the hair covering his eyes so nothing can obstruct his current view. “I can’t be, darling. Not with you.” 
If you didn’t know any better, you might think he sounds apologetic. 
This is quickly disproven when his fingers find your clit and rub it just right. 
When you come, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. Your back arches into him, your lips part in a silent scream, and you manage to exert enough strength to free your hands from Chrollo’s grasp. You scratch your fingernails down his back, leaving angry red streaks in your wake. Chrollo curses under his breath in a rare instance, given his proclivity for formal speech. Your walls squeeze down on him like a vice. 
His hips stutter and his grip on you becomes bruising. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, quietly moaning your name as if you were a deity; and he, your most devout follower. 
Warmth floods your insides not long after, a seemingly endless stream of cum painting your walls white. Chrollo holds you in place, absentmindedly rubbing circles into the skin he just bruised, a satisfied smile on his lips. You feel him go soft inside you, yet he still makes no sign of pulling out. To add insult to injury, your Hatsu slips away like sand between your fingers, back into his wrongful possession.
Then thick ropes spurt across your tits, accompanied by something like a growl from Feitan. Seeing you come undone must’ve pushed him over the edge. He pumps himself to completion while you struggle to make sense of what just happened. What you just did. 
The aphrodisiac is still active in your system, you can feel it clouding your senses and diluting your judgment. However, it’s far less potent than it was earlier. At its peak, it threatened to fray your sanity. What a dreadful ability. You regret killing the one who used it on you. Had he still been breathing, you would’ve flayed him alive for doing this to you. 
Feitan must not be the pillow talk type. He’s quick to redress, slinking out of the room after giving you an additional once over. He smirks and then leaves you to the whims of his boss. 
Chrollo places the back of his hand against your forehead. “Your fever’s gone down.” 
You avert your eyes and he tilts his head. 
“Don’t tell me you’re upset,” he comments, while finally pulling out. You feel his release seeping out in thick globs. “You would’ve been far worse off had we not intervened. Our guest in the basement can attest to that.” 
When you stay stubbornly silent, he sighs your name. “I know your vocal cords are working just fine. Whatever it is you wish to say, say it.” 
Your head snaps back so you can properly stare him in the eye. There’s a trembling of your lower lip that takes him aback, although he smooths his expression to one of indifference almost immediately. You aren’t the crying type. If anything, he’s probably cried more than you have in the time you’ve known him. He goes to wipe at your lash line, but you smack his hand away. The hit barely has any force behind it. Unexpectedly, he stills, his gaze boring down. 
“I can’t believe I actually l—” you cut yourself off with a shake of your head. You’re exhausted, not thinking straight, and you probably won’t be able to move without help. Whatever lapse in judgment that almost caused you to admit an intimately held secret closes as soon as it opens. 
Chrollo studies you. Whatever he feels then is a mystery, though you hope it cut him deep. Through flesh and sinew, down to the bone. 
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he eventually says. “I know you hate feeling dirty.” 
When he lifts you up, careful not to aggravate the bruise on your person, you mull over a single question. 
Did he change the subject for your sake, or for his? 
786 notes · View notes
ataraxiaspainting · 2 months
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pretending to be dead in front of hxh yans. because why the hell not?
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Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, and implied violence.
Word Count: 900. (this was only supposed to be 400 😭)
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Chrollo
Chrollo will know right away. There is no doubt about that. Even if he was in another room and just happened to walk in through the doorway as you flopped on the floor like a fish.
He will probably hit you up with a "Darling, get up or we won't go to the museum tonight" or something like that. He likes using this carrot and stick technique quite a lot, but with his own spin on it using his manipulation tactics. He will lure you in with a reward for behaving yourself or take something away when you are bad.
If you continue this charade despite his threats, he will attempt to entertain you for a bit. Maybe he pokes you with the end of an umbrella or something, or mockingly weeps your supposed death. Eventually this will annoy you so much you will surrender.
His response is directly proportional to why you did this. Did you do it for attention? He will gladly give it to you, with reading to you and handfeeding you your favorite food, still warm from its takeout box, or maybe he even attempted to make it himself (though, if the dish doesn't come out as planned, as his perfectionism is a huge part of him, he will throw it out before you even find out he cooked something in the first place).
Did you do it so he would actually think you are dead so you could sneak off to freedom? Well, expect him to tease you about it from this point forward, but nothing serious happens. Unless you attempt to attack him and actually prevail, usually his punishments are bare to none.
Nobunaga
Nobunaga is many things. Being in touch with reality is definitely not one of them. He already sees you as a fragile little baby, so trying to play dead in front of him will cause him to have a panic attack of sorts.
He believes your entire act, as bad as you were doing it. He cries and caresses you in his arms. His crusty, dry lips, unholy body odor, and his utterly disgusting breath will be the only reasons you will ever reveal your cover.
He reacts to you being alive as horribly as you expect. He will start yelling at you, scolding you like a toddler who snuck into the cookie jar and not a captive trying to get back to society once more. If he was already in a somewhat bad mood, like you rejected his advances for the umpteenth time, and he got annoyed at you playing "hard to get" again, expect to even be sent to bed without dinner or dessert. Horrifying, right?
But, then again, dinner is always raw or burnt. You are sometimes convinced Nobunaga is trying to poison you to further immobile you, so you won't attempt to escape further. Maybe this whole playing dead thing was successful, in its own way? You would rather eat pebbles than the halfway cooked rice Nobunaga puts in your pink plastic plate.
Feitan
Feitan just stares at you, not blinking. He already knows what you are trying to do. He already has a staring problem, observing everything you do, from drawing to looking outside the small, barred window in your room, so his reaction, in all honesty, does not surprise you one bit.
He will just go about his day. Feitan is an expert on the human body, being the Troupe's lead torturer and all, so he knows the difference from when you are faking being sick (or in this case dead) from when you are actually sick (a possibility from both the escape attempts and the fact that Feitan's little cabin in the middle of the woods has no heat or air conditioner. He says he does not need it, so he does not recognize it as a problem).
As always, he says nothing. He only sees this as a little bit of a tantrum you're having, and lets you have your way for once. When you eventually give up or when he has had enough of watching you, he'll leave the room to do something else.
But nothing bad happens to you, shockingly. But there is major emphasis on to you. If you have refused to admit defeat, he'll torture yet another poor unfortunate soul in his basement, their screams much louder than usual, and you will break at one point or another, either asking Feitan to stop or going to your room to put your pillow (which can also be a weapon with how hard it is) over your ears.
Machi
Machi, similar to two of the three assfarts, knows exactly what you are doing. But, like Nobunaga, she still worries, although she does not show it, and she also scolds you.
But, unlike the rest of them, she tries to listen to you after she shakes you into revealing yourself. She wants to know why you did that. If you say to try to escape from her, her heart will be broken once again.
Machi may not be the most emotionally understanding, but she does in fact try, although what she does after this incident is largely the opposite of what you wanted to happen. Even though her intentions are good, in her opinion. She will become more present in your life, bringing home more gifts for you and trying to hug you whenever you ask, although she will never initiate it herself.
She hopes you won't do that again. She'll tell you as such. She was not trying to manipulate you with the increase in gifts and consensual touches, but you will feel so bad you won't attempt such a thing from that point forward.
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