Cosimo Galluzzi

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@flea-markettt
(Princess of Gender Dysphoria) A dream.
Applejack's plea with the manufacturer (God, Hasbro, and me?) Alternatively, an expression of my past relationship trauma.
And a happy pride month to all.
How my creative process works sometimes.
Search your soul. You know it to be true.
I do not know how move away from after watching this episode.
the scene after the credits finally broke my heart ohh
what's up scooby gang
Hiii can you do nsfw hcs (including aftercare) for BEN drowned, laughing jack and, jeff the killer please?
Laughing Jack + Jeff the killer NSFW Headcanons
Laughing Jack, Jeff x Gender Neutral Reader (Separately)
A/N: I do not write nsfw for BEN as I personally headcanon him as being too young, thank you.
Genre: NSFW, Smut
Content/Warnings (Jack): Clown fucker stuff, biting, size difference, comically large penis, bondage sort of? more like general restraint, some soft aftercare
Content/Warnings (Jeff): knife play, blood play, biting, general rough treatment, slapping, Jeffrey being a selfish grade A asshole, degradation, some name calling
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio! And check out my pinned post to see my other works!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
Laughing Jack
Two words first and foremost:
Giggly. Bastard.
He’s not taking it seriously at all
To him, it’s just another way to have fun!
(Even if it leaves you delirious and shaking with pleasure)
The first few times you’ll have to remind him of his own strength, and make sure you watch out for the teeth and claws too
He’s a big guy, but on the inside he’s just a cuddle bug; he doesn’t realize how dangerous and pointy he is!
He’s definitely going to bite no matter what though
It’s more so a playful little gesture than anything else
He actually quite likes the size difference between the two of you, it gives him a lot of control
And of course it doesn’t hurt that you’re cute too
He insists that he isn’t actually big despite the fact that he’s pushing eight feet tall, no no—
He’s not big, you’re just tiny! That has to be it!
“Aww, sweet little thing…You’re just itty bitty, aincha love? Don’t be scared, I can be careful with ya…”
His striped tongue is suuuuuuper long and dexterous (read in depth about that here bc i’m not typing all that out again)
Speaking of stripes—
His dick is striped, and i’m not apologizing
It’s skinny and smooth, but also borderline ridiculously long
He has some minor shapeshifting abilities so it’s likely that he can change the length but it’s always massive
Don’t get your hopes up about fitting it all in, you’ll hurt yourself
But he does love seeing that little bulge in your tummy, especially running his razor sharp claws along it
Just another reminder of how much bigger he is compared to you
When he really gets going, he’ll wrap his long rubberhose arms around you and squeeze you tight until you can’t move like a python
He’ll have you pinned down and completely restrained, arms pressed into your sides, using you like you were a fleshlight
Tongue hanging out, drooling and panting like a dog, crazed laughing between his heavy breaths…
He can’t help it when you squeeze him so well
Don’t worry, he takes great care of you after!
He doesn’t get tired or sore like a human, so as soon as you say you’re done he’s up and at it grabbing you a towel, water, snacks, or whatever you need!
Probably at least a few bandaids for those bite marks
Expect a lot of giggly, half serious apologies for the injuries
Sometimes he even brings you black and white stuffies that seem to be of his own making, although he won’t say where he gets them from
He might rush you a bit though; he wants to get to the cuddling part ASAP!
He likes to wrap his long limbs around you and completely engulf you with his body, almost in a protective manner
He’ll gladly sing you to sleep too if you like
He’s more of a sweetheart than most people would imagine, even if he can be a bit intense when he’s eager for you
Jeff
I know some Jeff fans aren’t gonna like him not being portrayed as a secretly soft hearted anime boy but fuck it we ball
Chances are, he’s in it for the sex and the sex only
Not really even the sex tbh, just for his personal pleasure
Nothing more, nothing less
Because of this he can be kind of reckless and honestly inconsiderate
He likes to manhandle you, push you around a bit and even slap you if you let him
The little squeals you make when you feel the sting of his palm coming down on your face are just exquisite
He’ll find plenty of little ways to inflict pain on you
He likes to bite as well, but it’s not nearly as playful or lighthearted
He’s trying to break skin, and break in hard
He wants you to be nursing that wound for weeks
He wants to tear you apart with his teeth, take a bloody chunk out of you and swallow your still pulsing flesh
Speaking of blood, he’s quite fascinated by yours
Knife play was a given, we should all know this
The cuts he makes are just deep enough for blood to flow out, yet shallow enough that they heal nearly perfectly and give him a fresh canvas to work with when he wants to do it all over again
(PSA: the knife has been sterilized thoroughly. he’s kinky not stupid. infections aren’t sexy. tetanus isn’t sexy.)
He looooves to taste your blood too
Eats it up like the finest wine money could buy
He wants it filling his mouth and gushing down his chin
If you get periods…good luck, he’ll be between your legs the second he can smell it
Although the rough and sadistic fore play is often planned out to a T, he’s sort of uncoordinated when it comes to the actual sex part
He’s usually thrusting wildly with no real regard for rhythm or pace, he’s just trying to find his peak, and to him that’s all that matters
And he’ll do it all while spouting the most disgusting profanities into your ear too
“God, fuck! You little slut, practically begging for it— Shit! Letting me use you like a nasty little whore! I’m gonna make you my personal cum dump, ya got that?!”
If he cums first, there’s really only a 50/50 chance he’ll give enough of a shit to make sure you do too
And aftercare? With Jeff?
HAH
None.
Before you can even blink he’s redressed himself and is probably climbing out of your window
But on the one in a million chance he actually cares about you, he might grab you a water bottle or something, but it’s the bare minimum
After that it’s straight to sleep for him
Sorry if you wanted better, but come on
It’s Jeff for fucks sake
Genre: Smut
Summary: Reader finds an antique Jack-In-The-Box at a yard sale, unaware that by purchasing it they would also be taking home an unwanted guest.
Content/Warnings: Dubcon elements, horror elements, LJ being a stalker creep (so some non con voyeurism), LJ is just fucking weird in this one, clown fucking shenanigans, big stripey clown dick and also long stripey clown tongue, comically large clown penis, LJ eats ass, LJ is massive so big size difference, tummy bulge, that dick should NOT be able to fit in you but it’s my story i can bend the laws of anatomy however i wish, LJ is very mean in this one and doesn’t really care if he hurts you, some degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is kind of a slut boy (same), there’s a lot of build up but please it’s worth it i prommy (but also feel free to skip to the porn that’s totally fair)
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
A/N: Jack is british just fyi so if you’re like me and you read with accents there you go!
The antique jack-in-the-box was certainly an odd find at a garage sale, but there was no denying that it caught your eye the moment you saw it. It was incredibly ornate, clearly hand painted in all black and white and decorated with balloons and candy, not to mention it was preserved wonderfully for a piece that had, presumably, been stored in an attic for who knows how long. You could run your fingers over the edges and feel every detail of the tediously carved borders. You carefully turned the wooden box over in your hands, looking over the large, carefully painted words on the front:
“Laughing Jack In The Box!”, surrounded by all sorts of patterns and shapes.
Your face immediately lit up. Everything about this box screamed one of a kind. You could already see it sitting on your collectors shelf, safe behind the glass for you to keep and observe. You absolutely had to have it.
“Excuse me miss?” You called, looking around for the old woman who was running the garage sale. She got up from her lawn chair and made her way over about as fast as you’d expect from one as antique as some of the items currently being sold.
“Could you tell me about this jack-in-the-box?” You asked, trying to hide your elation.
“Oh, this old thing…” She began, looking at you over her comically oversized glasses. “It belonged to my great, great grandfather, Isaac, and was handmade by his father. It was given to me as a young girl, and I was keeping it in the hopes I could pass it on to my own children.”
You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the comment, but it seems the woman had no qualms about selling it.
“Well, it may please you to know that I’m an antique collector,” You explained in an effort to reassure her. “This is a beautiful piece. If you’ll sell it to me, I can promise you it’ll be safe on my shelf.”
“Oh, I have no worries about that. No one would pick this old thing up unless they knew what they were buying. So, what’s your offer young man?”
You thought for a few moments, weighing the box in your hands. You didn’t want to completely rip her off, but a one of a kind antique like this could go for thousands in the right place, and you weren’t looking to break the bank for this thing. Besides, who else would possibly buy it if you didn’t?
You pulled your wallet out and flipped through it, debating with yourself.
“How about…a clean fifty?”
And with that, a deal was made. Before you knew it you were proudly walking back to your car with the box tucked under your arm. You placed it carefully in the front passenger seat where you could watch over it, glancing back one last time to the now empty place on the table where the box once sat before driving away.
Immediately upon getting home you rushed to your room and swung open your shelf, eyes scanning over every row as you tried to find the best place for your newest treasure. It took a bit of rearranging to keep the shelf organized to your liking, but eventually you were able to place the box neatly right in the middle. You carefully closed the glass door and took a few steps back to admire your work. It was absolute perfection, and you couldn’t stop yourself from happily clapping your hands together. You deserved to applaud yourself a bit, after all.
You flopped down on your bed and grabbed your phone, eager to share your find with anyone who would listen, giddy with excitement. You really couldn’t believe how lucky you were! No one else would ever lay hands on a jack-in-the-box like this one, and now it was all yours.
As the hours of the afternoon dissolved into the night, you found yourself peeking into your room just about every time you walked past. You smiled wide whenever you saw the pristine box sitting on your shelf. It was especially beautiful when the sun hit it just right and made it shine. Your chest was still swelling with pride even as you climbed into bed for the night, able to peacefully fall asleep knowing that you’d filled another spot on your shelf today.
Unbeknownst to you, you had just given up the privilege of peaceful sleep.
That night you had one of the worst, most vivid nightmares you could remember.
You were standing in your room late at night, and everything seemed deathly silent, as if all the birds and insects that would normally be chirping outside had up and died off. A shiver ran down your spine as you looked around in confusion. You tried to turn on your lamp, but it wouldn’t come on. Trying the light switch yielded the same distressing result. You moved to open the door, but the moment you reached out for the knob it disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. When you turned back, your bedroom window was gone too. Both of your escape routes had dissolved into thin air without so much as a sound.
The hair on the back of your neck stood up as your eyes slowly wandered to the jack-in-the-box. It was the only object left on your now open collectors shelf, but it seemed to take up so much more space than before. It had captured your gaze in an iron grip, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t look away. A terrible feeling began to bubble in the pit of your stomach, becoming heavier and heavier until you felt as though you may collapse from the weight, but nothing was happening. Something about the box itself felt so…malicious, so threatening, but it was simply sitting dormant on your shelf.
What were you so scared of?
That was the question replaying in your mind when you woke with a start, nearly falling out of your bed in your disoriented state. You shot straight up as you fought to catch your breath, taking a look around just to make sure your window and door were still there. Fortunately, they were. It really was just a nightmare.
A wave of relief washed over you as you slowly laid back down. You took an extra minute to catch your breath, silently scolding yourself for being so easily scared. You turned your head to look out the window, now noticing the very first little shreds of the dawn coming up over the horizon.
However, you noticed something else as well. Something that set off just a bit of unease in you.
The glass door of your shelf was open.
Not wide open, or broken, just slightly cracked as if it hadn’t been closed all the way and was now just barely ajar. You could’ve sworn you shut it all the way, you could even remember hearing the little click.
But we all make mistakes, don’t we?
That seemed enough of an explanation to calm you as you slipped out of bed to close the shelf once more. This time you double checked, just to be sure. When you were satisfied you went back to bed, finding sleep rather easily and this time without incident.
When you awoke some hours later you couldn’t help but question which parts of the night were a dream and which were reality. The memories of when you had woken up the first time were hazy, not to mention you were still shaken up from the nightmare. You tried to push it out of your mind, though, when you found your shelf securely closed and seemingly untouched. That was really all that mattered.
It seems you had the green light to go about your day as usual.
First thing’s first: you need to change out of your nightclothes. The stained band tee and baggy sweats would not cut it for running errands. You decided on something that would be comfortable for the day, but still made you feel confident and happy with yourself.
As you undressed you couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate yourself in the mirror, standing there in just your boxer briefs. You ran a hand over your sides, turning around halfway as you admired your own figure. It was a silly habit to have, really, but what was it hurting? After all, you were one handsome man. You deserved to be seen.
You weren’t the only one who thought this, and you certainly weren’t the only one who enjoyed admiring you.
Completely hidden out of your view, just how he liked, two achromatic pinwheel eyes spun manically behind the shadows of the jack-in-the-box. He only had to lift the box just slightly, so little that you would never notice, and even if you did you would likely brush it off as your imagination. Jack was skilled like that, able to slowly lure his victims into madness in such a way that they wouldn’t notice until it was too late.
You, though, had caught his attention in a slightly different manner.
You had piqued his interest the moment you picked up his box, handling it with a curious yet careful manner. For generations he had been packed away in dusty attics and grimy basements and long forgotten storage units, completely disgraced by the family line that was supposed to cherish him. But you had plucked him from that miserable cycle, dusted him off, and placed him carefully on your shelf in a secure little spot where you could see each other every day.
This was certainly unusual behavior.
That ache of contempt that he felt for nearly everyone else somehow had yet to creep in. On some level, Jack was just as curious about you has you had been about him, and now he was safe behind the glass to keep and observe you as he saw fit. Human bodies in particular had always been an odd interest of his seeing as they looked so different from his own. Seeing you flaunt yours so proudly with no one else around was honestly a bit amusing.
He watched silently as you slipped on your day clothes, turning around a couple more times in the mirror and adjusting your outfit a bit before finally deciding you were happy. He didn’t slip back down into his box until he heard your car pulling out of the driveway.
He sat there with himself for some few hours while you were gone. He had lost any sense of time at this point, used to spending his days alone in his box. Although, this time, there was one reoccurring theme that all his thoughts seemed to circle back to:
You.
What made exactly you so interesting, hm? He could venture a vague guess, but something was just…different. His affinity for humans had long since waned to nothing nearly two centuries ago, and yet a small part of it was beginning to stir in him once more.
It seemed this would require further observation, which was certainly no issue to him.
You, on the other hand, were blissfully unaware that you were currently sharing your humble abode. There were a few times when the events of the earlier night managed to worm its way back into your mind, but you always managed to push it away. You were simply being silly, that was all. It was a random occurrence with absolutely no significance.
Yeah, sure, that made enough sense.
By the time you were unlocking your front door, you had been lucky enough to truly forget about your nightmare. It seemed that you had finally calmed yourself and managed to stay grounded.
At least you had until you stepped through the door.
The second you had both feet in the doorway, the nightmare came rushing back in vivid flashes. It felt like your grocery bags were filled with cement, your limbs suddenly going weak. Your entire body had gone stiff, paralyzed with an indescribable sense of anxiety, the feeling that something was terribly, deeply wrong in your home.
You swept through the whole house and found not a single thing out of place, though every time you turned a corner you were sure you’d see something you didn’t want to.
No smashed in windows, no kicked in doors, nothing taken or broken, no other sign of an intruder. Nothing that would indicate anything out of the ordinary.
Then why was your stomach churning with the same heavy dread you’d felt in the nightmare?
You wracked your brain as you tried to figure out what could possibly be making you feel so uneasy in your own home, but nothing came to mind. Even as you put away your groceries you were mumbling and muttering to yourself, attempting to fetch any semblance of an explanation.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Jack was more than happy to watch you spin yourself into a tizzy over his little tricks. He giggled to himself when you paced back and forth where he could see you outside the doorway of your room, proud to see he hadn’t lost his mischievous touch.
You felt absolutely exhausted by the time you were trudging your way to your room, the subtle thrum of an oncoming headache already threatening to floor you for the rest of the day. You were so drained, in fact, that you had to do a double take to realize that your collector’s shelf had been completely opened.
Not just creaked open like last time, completely opened. If it had been pushed any farther, the hinges would’ve snapped.
You stared in disbelief, mouth hanging half open. You couldn’t even will yourself to move. It felt someone had just lit a match to the pile of questions that had been accumulating in the back of your mind. As if on autopilot, you walked over numbly and shut the glass door of the shelf. This time, you triple checked that it was shut.
Of course, this time you weren’t satisfied with that.
The first thing you did once you had thrown on sweats and laid down was go to order a lock for the shelf online. You even paid extra to make sure it would be delivered the next day. After all, the last thing you needed was one of your prized possessions falling out and breaking.
Yes, that was the very normal, rational reason why you needed a lock.
You sighed with exhaustion as you struggled to get comfortable in your bed, figuring maybe a nap would help you recharge a bit. By some miracle you actually managed to fall asleep, and by another you slept peacefully for a full hour uninterrupted.
Damn, you needed that. You actually felt better when you woke up, stretching and cracking your back a few times before getting up.
Suddenly your fearful reaction earlier seemed so silly! Why were you so upset anyways? Because of a bad dream and a dingy old shelf? How stupid. Really, you were lucky you lived alone. If anyone had seen you like that they’d think you were crazy, irrational, completely out of your—
The shelf is open again.
The fucking shelf is open again, and the box has moved an entire shelf down on its own.
The box has moved on its own.
You were suddenly feeling light headed.
You sat back down on your bed, your head already beginning to ache once more. You were dizzy, confused, struggling to find your bearings in reality. You held your head in your hands as you tried to take a breather. Part of you hoped that if you simply looked away then back up, maybe the problem would fix itself.
No such luck.
You groaned with frustration, practically stomping over to your shelf. You moved the box back to its original place in a quick and jumpy manner, as if it was burning hot and it would hurt to hold onto it for too long. This time you quadruple checked that it had been closed properly, and even threw a blanket over the shelf to cover it.
It wasn’t a fix, but it could at least give you some semblance of security.
“Stupid broken thing…” You muttered to yourself, speed walking out of your room to head to the kitchen where hopefully a snack could distract you.
Jack was giddy with excitement, unable to stop himself from snickering with smug self-satisfaction. It had been so long since he had someone to play with, and you were so fun to scare it almost felt too easy.
He would have to play his next cards perfectly, though, if he wanted to keep this up.
He didn’t mess with you at all the rest of the day, even when he really, really wanted to. You peaked into your room every time you walked by, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw the shelf was exactly as you’d left it every time.
Maybe, you thought for the umpteenth time, you really were just being irrational. You didn’t even have another nightmare that night, and when you awoke the shelf was still closed with the blanket untouched on top of it.
When the lock came in that day you wondered for a bit if you really needed it, but ultimately decided it was better to be over-prepared than under. You could finally remove the blanket cover on the shelf, feeling much better now that you could properly shut and lock it. You stored the key away in the drawer of your nightstand where you knew it would be safe.
For you, it seemed like everything was finally back to normal again.
For Jack, this was the perfect opportunity to increase his antics tenfold. He was becoming more and more impatient, wanting to badly to properly greet you, and with each scare he only felt himself grow stronger. He was feeding on your anguish, allowing it to fuel him until eventually he would be ready to come out and play.
For the next few weeks, Jack made you sure you found absolutely no peace. He was relentless and cruel, even by his standards. He broke your stupid little lock, and the two others you ordered after that. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d made you shut the glass door to the shelf again. Whenever you tried to cover him with the blanket, he let you know he was particularly upset with you by not only swinging the shelf door wide open, but moving his box right to your bedside table. That way, he got to see your terror up close when you jolted awake, nearly tripping over yourself to get away when you saw the box a mere couple of feet from your face. He made the house creak and jump every time you got a moment of quiet. Hell, he was petty enough to mess with the thermostat when you were out, meaning you got to return home to a freezing cold or blistering heat that was surely running up your bill. Speaking of running up your bills, it wasn’t unusual for Jack to leave the water running either.
The thing that got to you the most, though, was the incessant nightmares.
God, they never stopped.
They were almost all the same:
You’d be trapped somewhere familiar, like your room or a store you’d been at that day. You’d be completely alone and no lights would work, and when you tried to leave all the doors and windows would disappear. And every time, every goddamn time, that jack-in-the-box would be sitting there to greet you when you turned around. That was by far the worst part. Just looking at it would make you weak and nauseous, but you always woke up just before you’d collapse. Whenever you awoke from your nightmares you tried to take comfort in the sunrise beginning to slowly come up over the horizon, but deep down you knew the daylight could no longer save you.
Each day you woke up more exhausted than the last, too tired to go anywhere but not able to stand being in your house with whatever entity was making your life hell.
On the contrary, Jack was merely becoming more and more energetic every day. He hadn’t felt this eager in a long, long time. He was even feeling a bit bold, working up the courage once or twice to open the shelf while you were in the room. That scared you the most, making you jump with fear and scramble out of the room as fast as you could.
He knew you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. You could leave for the day, sure, but sooner or later you’d have to come back home. The stars must’ve aligned for him to find you, the perfect little plaything that could never really escape and gave him endless entertainment. You were certainly a funny one.
Although, there were times he enjoyed simply watching you just as much as tormenting you.
Countless times he’d find himself occupied with quietly observing you as if you were a completely foreign creature. He’d peak out of his box to watch you toss and turn at night, to watch you dress in the morning, and he even got to see you walk back from your showers a few times. You looked so soft, even from this far away, with so many places for him to grab and squeeze and wrap his massive claws around.
It was shameful, really. Or it should’ve been at least. Jack didn’t know the meaning of the word. All he knew was that the urge to reach out and grab you in his claws was growing stronger, and fast. His already minimal patience was beginning to thin, and he knew that soon it would run out completely. Watching you from afar wouldn’t be enough.
But that was okay.
He was finally ready to properly greet you, and he knew exactly how he’d do it.
That night you experienced one of the usual terrors, but this time you couldn’t recognize the room. It looked to be the bedroom of a victorian mansion with tall wooden walls decorated with dusty paintings that seemed to go up forever, closing you in on all sides. A child’s toys were scattered around the room, and the blankets on the bed had been tussled and pushed around. It was clear someone had been living here, but who? And why were you in a room you had never seen before?
And why, God—
Why was that jack-in-the-box still sitting on the shelf? And why was the crank turning on its own, playing the quiet, foreboding tune of “Pop Goes The Weasel?”
The feeling of dread that filled you was nothing new, but what you didn’t expect was to see the box slowly open as the crank continued to turn.
The movement wasn’t sudden, but it was absolutely shocking, so much so that you fell back onto your hands. You tried to scoot backwards, to somehow get away, but you couldn’t move. All you could do was watch as the lid of the box clicked into its open place, and a dark shape began to emerge.
It took a moment for you to figure out what you were looking at. The shape had sharp edges and moved slowly, in a controlled manner. It wrapped around the edge of the box and tapped against it.
It was a hand.
A massive hand with pitch black claws, each nearly as large as your palm, much too big to belong to something that should’ve been able to fit in that box.
A second clawed hand reached up, grabbing onto the opposite side of the box. They looked to be pulling up the rest of the body.
You watched, mouth agape in silent horror as the claws were followed by long striped sleeves, then a head and face covered by long black hair that fell past broad shoulders, until eventually the entire body had dragged itself out of the box. The creature sat there limply with its limbs bent unnaturally as if its own body was too heavy for it to move. There was one thing about it, though, that made your blood run cold:
Above a sharp toothed smile that was stretched impossibly wide were two achromatic pinwheel eyes, spinning manically behind a curtain of dark hair. They pierced your soul with their stare, almost seeming to glow in the dark.
There was a split second where you knew you were about to wake up, but the sight before you when you forced your eyes open was so similar to your nightmare that you weren’t sure it had worked.
That…thing from your dream was hovering over you.
Its visage was completely clear to you now, hair falling around its face and on either side of your head as it peered down at you. A single glance towards its body showed it was even bigger up close, easily twice your size. It resembled some sort of clown, in line with the theme of the jack-in-the-box, but nothing about it seemed comforting or humorous.
Your first instinct was to thrash, but you couldn’t move. The clown had pinned your arms down with its massive claws, not even flinching when you tried to fight it off. It took no effort to hold you down.
Its razor-toothed mouth began to crack open, and for a second you expected it to lunge forward and end it all with one fatal snap of its jaws.
But that didn’t happen.
No, instead…
It laughed.
The laugh itself didn’t even sound malicious or evil. In any other context it could easily be mistaken as an innocent giggle, a sound you might make when you saw something particularly cute.
That was what you were to Jack:
Cute.
But not in the way you’d think.
You were cute in the way a helpless, injured animal is cute.
Cute in the way that something you could hold in the palm of your hand is cute.
Cute in the way that something you knew you had complete control over is cute.
Cute in a pathetic, pitiful way that Jack loved.
He had waited so long to have his fun with you, he was trembling with excitement.
“Oooh, there you are!” Jack spoke in a lighthearted tone, drawing out his words in a playful manner. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to sound like, but it definitely wasn’t that. You couldn’t decide if his oddly happy demeanor and sing-song tone with the cartoonish lilt of his accent was more or less frightening than the classic demonic voice of a supernatural killer.
Suddenly something uncomfortably wet slid from your shoulder to your cheek, and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you realized it was his tongue.
It was impossibly long and had the same striped pattern as his sleeves, moving in a much too articulated manner, as if it was another limb. You watched with wide eyes at it slowly retracted back into his mouth with a sickening wet sound. You could imagine it coiled up in there like a snake; after all, that was the only feasible way it should’ve been able to fit back in his mouth.
“You taste even better than I imagined…” The clown continued, taking no notice of (or at least not caring about) your discomfort. “You’ve been teasing ol’ Jack, haven’t you?”
“J…Jack?” You echoed in a whisper. You could hardly hear your own meek voice.
He only chuckled in response, taking great delight in hearing you say his name.
One of his hands released your arm, though you didn’t dare move either way. It slowly slid its way under your oversized nightshirt, pushing it above your chest and exposing your entire midriff. Both of his hands ran along your sides slowly, two claw-tipped thumbs barely scraping over your skin. Just a bit more pressure could’ve drawn blood, and it wouldn’t even take much effort on Jack’s part.
You tried not to move, to not even breathe, terrified that one wrong move would get you torn to shreds. You could imagine one razor sharp talon digging into your chest and dragging to your stomach, slicing you open in a mess of gore and intestines and oh, God—
You winced when Jack’s tongue unfurled once more, this time running from your navel all the way to your chest. It left a cold trail of saliva that made you shiver. You had to turn your head away, unable to look at Jack any longer, only to yelp in pain when you felt the sharp sting of a bite.
When you looked down again you were greeted with Jack’s smug grin.
“Pay attention to me and I won’t have to do that again.” He ordered, unblinking stare piercing through you. The tone of the demand was almost whiny, like he would throw a tantrum if he didn’t get his way.
“Wh…What the hell do you want?” You choked out.
Jack didn’t answer. It would be more fun to watch you figure it out on your own.
He adjusted you in his hold, allowing him to sit up as he moved to grasp your thighs. It was then you realized you’d neglected to put on any actual pants before bed, your lower half clad only in your boxer briefs which were doing very little to keep you modest, especially as Jack lifted your clothed bulge closer to his eager mouth.
“W-Wait—!”
But your plea came a moment too late, and any other attempt at words died in your throat when you felt Jack’s tongue run over your cock through your boxers.
“Shit—! Jesus Christ…” You huffed, “What the fuck…are you doing…?”
You dug your teeth into your bottom lip and watched helplessly as Jack’s tongue ran over you once more, making you tense as you felt your cock twitch. Damn, that felt good…
You really shouldn’t have been enjoying this. Especially not this much. You expected to be much more disgusted, and yet you weren’t. In fact, there was a little voice in the back of your head that was eager to take much more.
But what choice did you have, really?
Jack certainly had no intention of stopping, and you certainly weren’t going anywhere. Besides, for all you knew you’d wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a shameful wet dream.
You tried to relax a bit in his grip, which proved difficult when he was staring at you like he wanted to eat you alive.
Before you could blink Jack had suddenly flipped you onto your stomach, making quick work of your boxers with one swipe of his claws. The sound of ripping fabric caught you off guard, and everything happened so fast you weren’t sure what had happened until you felt Jack’s tongue run over the bare back of your thighs.
“Oh my God—!” You cried out, barely managing to muffle yourself with a pillow. You held it tight against your face, and even had to bite down on it in an attempt to stop yourself from screaming when Jack slipped his tongue inside of you.
It felt even longer than it looked, squirming inside of you and leaving absolutely no spot untouched. Every time you thought he couldn’t possibly go any deeper, he somehow did, filling you with his tongue until you couldn’t fit anymore. A shame, really; he had lots more to offer, but he couldn’t expect much from such a little human.
His hands were easily large enough to grasp your waist and hold you against his mouth. You had no way of knowing, but Jack was more than aware of his own strength, even taking care to make sure he didn’t pierce you with his nails. You’d be much for fun alive, after all. Although, this didn’t mean he didn’t have a bit of fun scaring you, occasionally giving a rough squeeze just to feel you flinch. He was thoroughly invested in tasting every inch of you, but that didn’t mean he’d stop toying with you at every opportunity.
Despite his hold on you, you couldn’t stop yourself from writhing desperately in his hands. You weren’t trying to fight him, but the sensation of his tongue wriggling around so deep inside of you was certainly an odd one. Your cock was already throbbing between your legs and dripping precum onto your sheets. There was a nagging urge to reach down and give your needy member some much needed attention, but you couldn’t force yourself to release your painful grip on your blanket. It was the only thing providing you any sort of purchase.
Jack was making quite the show of eating you out as well, moaning and slurping in a rather dramatic manner. He certainly wasn’t afraid of being noisy, though he made sure to stay quiet enough to listen to your encouraging noises. You sounded so desperate and needy, he just couldn’t get enough. You became especially loud when he began to slowly move his tongue in and out. He could even feel you squeeze around it, and it made his cock ache as he imagined what it would feel like to finally be inside of you.
You shuddered when Jack finally retracted his tongue, his saliva completely soaking your hole and beginning to run down your legs, leaving you now feeling thoroughly stretched but unpleasantly empty. He only let you rest as long as it took for him to close and wipe his mouth before he was manhandling you once more, this time flipping you into your previous position on your back. It happened so fast that just the impact of your head on the pillow made you dizzy.
When you looked up again Jack had leaned back a bit, looking down at his hands as he unbuckled his suspenders and soon after his pants. You followed his gaze just in time to see his own massive length spring free from his trousers.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
It was bigger than anything you’d ever even imagined, and suddenly you felt embarrassingly inadequate. It too was striped, and shaped in such a way that you could easily tell it was a cock but definitely not a human one. He laid it over your stomach and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer size. It was thick and heavy too, throbbing eagerly against your skin.
“W-Woah, wait, no way—“ You stuttered, attempting to crawl backwards and away from Jack. “That’s fucking giant, holy shit…You can’t— T-That won’t—“
“Shhhhh!” Jack interrupted as he roughly pulled you back to him, “Calm down, you whiny little thing. You’ll be fine.”
You only whimpered in reply, watching with bated breath as he spread your legs wide to make room for his cock. He groaned with delight when his leaking tip brushed against your waiting hole.
“A-At least be careful…!” You pleaded in a last-ditch effort to earn yourself some mercy.
“I make no promises.” Jack replied shortly, as if he was annoyed with your request. Maybe it was a bit cruel to be so careless, but surely you were being dramatic. Humans were meant to stretch, right? Surely you weren’t that fragile.
The noise that struggled out of your mouth when he forced himself into you was downright inhuman, followed by a string of curses and other equally nasty exclamations of the sort that could’ve barred you from getting you into heaven all on their own. Not that you were going either way at this point.
When Jack had finally filled you as much as he could, only about two thirds of his cock had managed to disappear inside of you. That was still rather impressive, all things considered, and it’s not like he could complain. Your tight hole squeezed around him in all the right places.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You repeated under your breath as you tried to adjust to Jack’s size, a borderline impossible task.
“Foul mouthed one, aren’t you?” He scolded, grabbing your chin roughly. “Behave, or I’ll have to wash your mouth out.”
He seemed to find that hilarious, laughing to himself as if he’d never heard a funnier joke in his life.
“You…fuckin’ freak…” You spat back at him half-heartedly. It was hard to sound angry when you were trying to catch your breath after being filled to your limit. Jack feigned a gasp of disbelief at your lackluster insult.
“Naughty, naughty thing you are! Someone simply must teach you to behave!”
He squeezed you in his grip, testing his hold one last time before he began to pull back. You thought he’d stop halfway or at least start slow, but you were left speechless as he pulled out nearly all the way, leaving just the tip still nestled inside of you. You grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to brace yourself for what was sure to be a brutal impact.
“Brutal” was an understatement.
Shit, it felt like he fucking impaled you. You choked on what would’ve been a shriek when he pushed into you again, nails digging into his shoulder so hard it would’ve drawn blood if he had any. You felt unbearably full as his cock bullied its way back inside of you until it was laying heavy in your stomach.
Jack let out a shuddering moan that dissolved into a breathy laugh as he watched you struggle to keep it together. Your mouth hanging open in a silent scream and eyes going wide with panic was exactly what he wanted to see.
“Aww, did that hurt?” He asked, and honestly the condescending tone stung a bit. You only glared in reply.
He pulled back again, slamming into you with even more force than the first time. You could feel the bed swaying beneath you from the sheer strength. You could only hope he didn’t wind up breaking it after he broke you.
Jack was never one to take things slow, and as soon as he had gotten the hang of his thrusts he set a brutal pace. Each movement made your head spin with the impact. You really weren’t built to take something so massive, you shouldn’t have been able to, but you were taking it despite your body’s protests. You didn’t want to look down, unable to even stand the thought of seeing his gigantic cock disappear inside of you.
Desperate, animalistic noises spilled through your gritted teeth and out of your mouth. Each thrust hit deeper than the last and there were times you swore he was literally rearranging your guts. Of course you would eventually adjust to Jack’s size and strength, but that didn’t shake the fear that this encounter could land you in the hospital. This fear would fade as he continued though, the overwhelming fullness and ache soon melting into a pleasure like you’d never felt before. You grasped at anything you could, whether it be your sheets or Jack’s sleeves or hair, hopelessly clawing at anything you could get your shaky hands on.
Jack’s tongue laid limp out of his mouth as he panted, shamelessly rutting into you like a toy. You were nothing but a rag doll in his clutches for him to hold and use to his black heart’s content, and then some. While you couldn’t bring yourself to look down, he was more than happy to watch his cock thrust in and out of you. The wet squelching sounds made by each little movement were like music to his ears.
He knew he must’ve been hitting deep when he noticed the bulge he was making in your stomach.
Oh, you simply had to see this!
He grabbed your hair roughly and forced you to look down.
“Ahah! Do you see that? Do you?” He asked eagerly. He took your choked noise as a ‘yes.’
“You’re so small, ahah…I wonder how deep I can go before you break in two!”
He tugged on your hair once more, this time pulling it back to expose your neck. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he dragged his tongue slowly up your neck before pulling you into a messy kiss. It only took one second of your surprise to allow him to slip his tongue into your mouth, and it quickly found its way down your throat. You were caught off guard and nearly choked, which only made Jack laugh against your lips. You could feel every little twitch or jerk it made as it explored your throat with no regard for your comfort.
Jack didn’t pull away until he could tell you were struggling for air, retracting his tongue incredibly quickly. You were coughing and heaving to catch your breath, which he apparently found very amusing. It seemed to send him into a giggling fit every time he scared you half to death.
Suddenly Jack came to an abrupt stop. You looked up at him in confusion, but he wasn’t looking at you. He was focused on something else. You felt yourself being jostled around as he shifted his position, sitting up on his knees and lifting you from the bed with one hand still around your waist and the other under your back. You were entirely supported by his hands now.
What the hell is he thinking?!
You felt him retracting once more, but this time he wasn’t moving his hips. He was moving you.
He showed no signs of struggle or even the slightest strain as he began to thrust into you again, your weight practically nothing to him. He was using you like a goddamn fleshlight, nothing more than a sleeve for his cock.
And honestly…It wasn’t so bad.
That seemed to be your breaking point, any sense of dignity you had before completely going out the window as you gave into him fully. If he was going to use you like a toy, you could at least put in the effort to be a good one.
“F-Fuck! Ah—! Jack, m-more…!” You begged, and for a moment a look of surprise flashed across his face. The last thing he was expecting was to hear you pleading for him so shamelessly, but it was a welcome surprise. His signature grin returned quickly, stretching from one pointed ear to the other.
“Oh, more he says?!” He replied, “More, more! What happened to ‘wait, Jack!’ and ‘you can’t, Jack!’, huh? Sudden change of heart?”
He was mocking your voice, degrading you so blatantly that he expected you to recoil at his nasty words, but instead you tightened around him.
Oh…you liked that.
He was more than happy to keep going.
“What is it then, hm? Or have you already gone too stupid to answer me? Aha, you really do love this!”
You nodded quickly in response, managing to push out a slurred reply that sounded vaguely like an agreement.
“Fine then,” he conceded, “I can give you more…”
And just when you thought he couldn’t possibly go any faster or shove in any deeper or make you cry out for him even more.
He fucked you like his current life and the next depended on it, each thrust slamming the headboard into the wall so hard it left a mark. Your legs trembled as you began to get lost in the pleasure. It all felt like a blur, a wonderful blur only broken up by the realization that you were much closer to your orgasm than you realized.
“Jack, J-Jack—! I’m close, I…I’m…” You couldn’t even choke out a single sentence of warning. Jack was more than aware of what you were trying to tell him, but he was content to let you pathetically struggle for words.
“Go on, why don’t you? If you need it so bad I won’t stop you.”
His attempt at an impartial tone was greatly hindered by his obvious excitement, a result of how close he was to his own peak and how much he desired to see you cum. He wanted so badly to see you make a mess for him, to feel you spasm around him and know that he was the one who brought you to that.
“Oh, please—!” You whined, “Please, please, please…”
You had no idea what you were begging for. You didn’t have to, though, because it seems like your pleas worked anyways. Every muscle in your body tensed on instinct, your back arching up into Jack and one last high pitched cry managing to leave your throat as you came. The force of your orgasm hit you like a truck, more intense and prolonged than any other you’d had, helpfully hastened by Jack’s increasingly erratic thrusts.
“Ahah, you squeezed so tight!” He gushed, “You feel so, so good…”
Faster, faster, faster, he had to go faster. He was so close, so close. He had to fill you, he had to. He had to see his cum dripping out of you and to know that he’d filled you with all he had and you had to be filled.
He went silent for a split second, and you knew what you were in for when his hips stuttered before going still, but you weren’t ready for the sheer amount of cum he pumped into you. He held you on his cock until he was completely done, continuing to make small ruts with his hips until he’d ridden out his orgasm to the end. There simply wasn’t room for it all inside of you, but even as it flowed out of you and down your legs and onto your sheets he continued to spill into you. You’d gone limp in his hands by the time he was done.
You barely processed the feeling of being laid back down on your bed, but you definitely winced when Jack pulled out of you. Damn, you were already sore. Not to mention your forehead was drenched with a thick layer of sweat and your thighs were soaked with a multitude of bodily fluids that you were trying not to think about right now.
You managed to crack an eye open when you heard Jack snickering.
“Tired already? A shame. I had fun.” He said casually, as if the both of you had just returned from an outing and he hadn’t practically jumped you in your own home. Your only answer was an exhausted sigh.
Jack cocked his head to the side as he stared down at you. Were you really so worn out already? He wasn’t tired at all! Then again, “tired” wasn’t really something he felt…
Humans are so strange.
He laid down beside you and draped an arm over you. When he leaned in you expected him to lick you again, but instead he brought you into a kiss. An actual kiss, the first real gesture of affection he’d given you, even if it was rather brief. He pulled away to nestle his face into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his laughter against your skin.
“You’re a funny one, do you know that? I hope I get to play with you a lot more…”
Oh, fuck.
He wasn’t leaving, was he?
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A Rock and a Hard Place
Hisoka comes across a wayward darling
Hisoka x reader (with tiny bits of Chrollo x reader)
Warnings: gore, blood, graphic depictions of violence, murder, asphyxiation, kidnapping, manipulation, abuse, mentions of captivity, mentions of potential noncon
Word count: 10.8k
Dusk had long since fallen when Hisoka boarded the train alongside a dozen others, some already looking weary as they anticipated a long and boring journey that would take over the next few hours, and others not looking as bothered as their stop wasn't too far away.
Hisoka was among the group that would be on the train for a while; his destination was several hours away across the Saherta border, and as the magician settled down in an open seat, his unhappy mood could be seen by anyone as he leaned his head against the headrest.
Today had been a disappointment.
He thought he'd found an interesting fighter, as whispers of a formidable man within the Irnamur region had reached his ears. A man who was able to manipulate parts of his own body and turn his flesh and bones into blades or claws or whatever he saw fit, in essence turning himself into a living weapon. Someone like that should've been a worthy opponent, one who would give Hisoka that thrill he constantly sought when he found nen users who were exceptional.
It turned out to be a farce.
The instant Hisoka revealed himself the man ran away, and once he had been cornered, the man begged for his life and explained that his power wasn't what it seemed: he couldn't actually manipulate his body into weaponry, the only thing his ability could do was make his victims see what he wanted them to see, and all of it was just a scheme to con non-nen users out of their jenny and to keep them from going to law enforcement when he threatened them. He'd never intended on someone actually proficient in nen to confront him.
The sight of the con artist crying and begging for his life combined with the fact that he had pissed himself from fear had Hisoka's mood hit rock bottom, and he left the man where he was, though not before taking one of his cards and slicing it through the man's eyes for wasting his time. The magician left the pathetic man writhing on the ground as he clutched at his bleeding face.
Hisoka pulled out his phone to scroll through it as he waited for the train to start moving, other passengers walking by and not sparing more than a glance in his direction as they looked for their own places to sit. The type of clothing he usually wore normally turned a lot of heads, but since Hisoka had his hair down without his makeup and was dressed in a casual outfit of hoodie and jeans, he was easily able to blend in with the rest of those on board.
In a few hours, he would have returned to the place he currently called “home”, and from there he could forget about this whole incident. Hopefully the next individual to pique his interest would be someone more worthwhile of his time.
Or perhaps he might see Chrollo again.
At the thought of the illusive leader of the Phantom Troupe, Hisoka opened up his text messages. Machi was usually the one who contacted him when the troupe was meeting up, and though there weren't any new messages from her, he wanted to get a look at the last time she had gotten in touch.
It was a few months ago, he saw, looking at the date next to the message she had sent. It was hard to tell based on that alone when the troupe would reconvene. He could easily receive a message tonight telling him to meet the following week, or it could be several more months before he would hear anything in regards to a new job. While Hisoka could message Machi to ask about any upcoming work, she never responded to any of his texts. And ultimately, it was useless to ask her as the only one who knew for certain what would be coming next was Chrollo.
All Hisoka could do was wait for the next message to be sent.
Placing the phone back in his pocket, he couldn't help but let out a disappointed sigh as he settled into his seat, staring out at the window next to him while a majority of the other passengers were still milling about. He could always see if Illumi was up to anything interesting, he noted to himself.
A few minutes later the train began to move, and as the speed steadily picked up and the moon shown down on the grassy plains outside the window, Hisoka closed his eyes as he decided to rest a little during the journey.
Unfortunately, only a few miles in his rest was interrupted by one of the worst things anyone could encounter on public transport:
A crying toddler.
Though it sounded more like wailing and screaming, and the sound of the child's voice carried throughout the entire train car while the child's parents seemingly did nothing to try and console them. Perhaps they allowed the child to continue as they were just to give everyone else a taste of what they dealt with on a daily basis.
Hisoka was inclined to say that he could tolerate quite a lot and was generally unbothered by such things, but today he didn't feel quite as patient this time, finding himself becoming more than a little irritated at all of the noise. When the child continued to cry for a period of several minutes without any sign of losing breath, Hisoka felt that his limit had been reached. He got out of his seat, grabbed his bag and walked into the aisle as he headed for the car behind him.
Once the door shut and the crying could no longer be heard, Hisoka let out the smallest sigh of relief, happy that the enclosed area between the cars was largely quiet, as was the next car he walked into. The new problem he now faced was that there was no room for him there, with all of the seats being taken up, and so he continued to the next car only to find a similar situation.
When he made his way for a third car was when there was something that was slightly of note: a man standing in the area between the carriages was making a phone call. The brunette with messy shoulder length hair looked over to him when the door opened, then turned away, his voice becoming a bit more hushed while Hisoka took the time to close the door behind him.
“They haven't noticed anything,” Hisoka overheard the man say.
Though the magician was barely paying attention and already halfway towards the next door, having walked by the man on the phone without even a second glance. His focus was on the widow that lead to the next car. That one didn't seem to be as full; hopefully there would be no screaming children in-
“Yes, Chroll – uh, I mean, Mr. Lucilfer.”
The utterance of that name had Hisoka stop in his tracks, and he looked back to the man on the phone who was currently nodding along to whatever was being said to him.
The likelihood of anyone other than the Chrollo he knew being on the other end of that line was less than one percent.
It wasn't as though it was a common name.
Hisoka stepped to the side, pulling out his own phone and acting as though he was also there to make a call so as to avoid arousing suspicion from the other passenger. Putting the phone up to his ear, the magician glanced back again to the man, who was speaking again.
“The train got a little delayed at the last station, but they didn't seem concerned when I last checked on them,” he said, “as long as there aren't anymore delays, we should pull into Merchester at 9:30 – er, 21:30.”
The man's voice was even more hushed when he next asked “you'll have it with you when we get there, right?”
Whatever was being said now, Hisoka couldn't hear. A shame. He really wanted to know what Chrollo was telling him. But with the distance between them, Hisoka heard nothing and watched on as the man was nodding along again.
What exactly did Chrollo want with him?
Hisoka looked away, still acting as though he was waiting for a call to get through while he wondered over what exactly was going on. To his knowledge, Chrollo would on occasion hire random people for jobs, usually ones that he knew he could control by offering them large sums of jenny. The reason the boss did such things tended to be that the tasks were simply too menial to bother the other members of the troupe with, but sometimes there was purpose beyond that.
As he was only able to hear one half of the conversation, it was hard to tell why exactly this man had been chosen by Chrollo. Or why Chrollo was in contact with him to begin with.
Only a few moments later, the man had put away his phone and was heading into the car Hisoka had been heading for. The magician felt the man's gaze in his back as he passed by, though that ended when Hisoka began to speak, acting as though his call had finally gotten through. The man left shortly after that, not saying a word.
Waiting a few moments after the door slid shut, he took a step back and looked into the next car through the window, watching as the man walked down the aisle.
He caught the moment when the man turned his head to look at someone sitting in one of the seats towards the middle of the car. Even from his vantage point, Hisoka was able to note that the man gave that person an encouraging smile before he continued along his way. Despite not knowing exactly what was happening, the magician was intrigued.
If it involved Chrollo, he wanted to know more.
When the man had reached the end of the car and taken his own seat was when Hisoka entered. Now luck was on his side as there were plenty of open seats available. Better yet, the area where the man had paused moments before seemed to be free of people, with the exception of the person the man had looked at, of whom Hisoka could only see the top of their head from where he currently stood.
The disappointment that had weighed him down when he first got onto the train was now forgotten as Hisoka walked forward, curious as to what exactly he had stumbled across.
He continued until he neared the point where the man had stopped, and then he saw you.
Hisoka's first thought was that you were unremarkable.
The second was that you looked tired as you leaned against the window, clutching a backpack you had resting on your lap. There was a slight frown on your face and your eyes seeming distant as you looked out at the landscape that went by. Though you weren't as distracted as you appeared to be as you turned your gaze towards him once you realized he was there, and it was impossible to miss the guarded look in your eye.
Hisoka acted as though he didn't notice while he took a seat in the row opposite you. Your gaze stayed on him for a few moments longer while he set his bag on the seat next to him, and from the corner of his eye, he saw the way your eyebrows furrowed. As if you were trying to remember where you had seen him.
Oddly enough, the magician had a strange feeling as though he had seen you before as well.
Hisoka kept his eyes on the phone that he pulled out once again until he sensed that your gaze had shifted once more, and when he looked back, he found you staring out the window again. Though you didn't seem to be a nen user, you were aware enough to keep an eye on your surroundings, glancing around your general area every now and then, although the glances may not have been as subtle as you thought they were.
Leaning back into his seat, Hisoka mused about you, still uncertain about the whole situation. You were clearly nervous, looking up at everyone who occasionally walked past you and acting guilty just sitting in your seat. Almost as though you were expecting someone would eventually show up and you would need to make a run for it.
“They haven't noticed anything”
The words the man spoke earlier came to mind, and now he wondered: did you even know you were being taken to Chrollo? It was hard to tell based on that alone, but your behavior combined with what he had overheard earlier made it seem like a possibility.
But what for?
Did this have to do with the troupe? Under normal circumstances Hisoka may have thought that was the case, but he had actually showed up to the last meeting and there had been no mention of bringing anyone in. And as far as he knew, there hadn't been any meetings after that one, so he didn't think he had missed anything.
If it wasn't for the troupe, then perhaps it was personal reasons.
But what sort of personal reasons could Chrollo have that involved you?
Hisoka kept an eye on you. And the longer he did so, the more the nagging feeling that he had definitely seen you before grew on him.
Minutes passed by with nothing happening; you didn't move from your seat, the man hadn't checked in on you, and the cogs in Hisoka's mind were still turning as he tried to understand what exactly was going on. Your gaze was still on the view outside, dark circles beneath your eyes while you listlessly watched through the window.
That expression on your face….. He had definitely seen it before.
But where?
The answer to that question continued to elude him.
Then half an hour went by. As much as he wanted to ask you for details on what was going on, he chose to keep quiet for now, waiting to see if your companion would join you at any point and he might learn a bit more about what was going on that way. So Hisoka kept an eye on you while you grew more tired, becoming less alert as time went on. Still, you fought to keep alert, shaking your head every now and then as if to keep the sleepiness out of your brain. Your companion stayed where he was.
After minutes of nothing happening, Hisoka checked his phone for the time. In less than an hour, the train would reach Merchester, your apparent destination where Chrollo was waiting for you.
At that point your companion moved, getting up from his seat with his phone in hand as he walked by where you sat again. While you didn't say anything to him, the two of you made eye contact as he passed by. You gave him a hopeful smile which he returned, and as he walked back to the area between the cars, you seemed a bit less tense, like a wave of relief had washed over you as you leaned further into your seat. In doing so, a bit of your clothing shifted, allowing Hisoka a clear view of your neck. From where he was sitting, Hisoka could clearly see the markings on your skin. The discolored blotches that decorated your neck and went up too high for you to cover completely. Hickeys that had been left in such a way so you couldn't cover them up.
You were very aware of that fact, as only a moment later you sat up straight, your hand going to cover your neck while you nervously glanced over at him. Hisoka once more feigned obliviousness, and while you did relax slightly, you were back to how you had been when he had first entered the car: tense and on guard.
When your hand finally left your neck, you wrapped both of your arms around your backpack while you turned your head downwards, and in that moment, there were two very clear emotions coming through in your body language and the look he could see in your eyes:
Shame and helplessness.
And with that, a memory returned to him.
He was right. He had seen you before.
Back at Heavens Arena.
The elevator on the 200th floor had stopped for him, and much to the magician's surprise, Chrollo had been standing in the car. Two others were there as well: Shizuku, and you. You were standing in the far corner with your head facing down with one broken arm hanging in a sling. Though Hisoka barely noticed either of you when he stepped through the elevator doors as he was much more interested in how he had managed to run into Chrollo so unexpectedly.
The two members of the troupe seemed just as surprised to see him, and while Chrollo had given the magician a polite greeting, Shizuku ended up carrying on what became a conversation regarding Hisoka's history at the tower, which then managed to transition into a discussion about make-up and how well the brand he used lasted in fights. Since there had been no way to get to Chrollo in that moment, Hisoka had obliged, the time during the long ride down being the longest he had ever spoken to her.
All the while Hisoka felt taunted by the fact that Chrollo was right there and he couldn't do anything about it.
He'd noted that something felt a bit off about Chrollo, however. While Shizuku seemed to be acting normal enough, it felt as though something was simmering beneath Chrollo's cool exterior. Something that possibly resembled anger.
You went largely unnoticed by him still, and if he had bothered to think much about you, Hisoka's only assumption would have been that you just happened to get onto the elevator before the other two did.
So it was a surprise when the instant the elevator finally reached the ground floor Chrollo reached back to take the hand of your uninjured arm and led you through the doors. The way he had grabbed you had also been far more forceful than he ever would have expected from the Phantom Troupe leader.
Your eyes met his for a moment when you glanced over as you passed him, and the emotion he saw in them was that of pure misery.
“Who is that?” Hisoka had asked Shizuku as Chrollo led you away.
“Someone boss is invested in,” she replied.
“Is he? He doesn't seem very happy with them.”Shizuku simply shrugged in response.
While he had gotten the sense she was withholding information, he ultimately didn't care about you. Hisoka assumed that you were part of some smaller scheme being carried out by a few select members of the troupe; perhaps a hostage or someone being carted off to Feitan for information. Either way, you weren't important.
Or so he had thought.
Because here you were all this time later, still alive and on your way to Chrollo.
Chrollo, who, as Shizuku had said, was invested in you. And if boss really was the one who had made those marks on your neck, the reasons he wanted you were more personal than he initially realized.
They haven't noticed anything
The man's words from earlier replayed in his head as he put all of the information together and Hisoka smirked to himself as he now understood what was going on:
This was a runaway attempt by an unwilling lover, one in which you had reached out to someone that you thought was outside of Chrollo's sphere of influence. But your trust had clearly been misplaced as the man had sold you out, and now this escape of yours was going to end in tragedy once you stepped off the train and found your kidnapper waiting for you.
If it stayed the current course, that was.
Hisoka collected his bag as he stood back up.
You looked up immediately when he did that, and when Hisoka tossed his bag across the way and sat down in the seat opposite yours, worry overtook you. You sat up straighter still, clutching at your backpack while you looked him over, trying to figure out what was going on.
The look of worry on your face only worsened when he smiled at you.
The two of you stared at each other for a few moments before you finally spoke up.
“Do you need something?” you asked, though you kept your voice down, likely for the sake of not drawing attention to yourself.
“Not especially,” he answered, also keeping his voice low as he continued with “I wanted to sit here.”
“Weren't you already sitting?” you asked, your brow going up as you looked at him suspiciously.
“I decided to move over here. Is that so strange?”
“This late in the journey? Yeah, it is.”
You kept your eyes on him for the most part, though he noticed the quick glances about you, like you thought someone else would come and trap you.
“I thought you could use some company,” Hisoka said, “you seem rather lonely.”
“I'm not,” you answered, “I was actually enjoying being by myself.”
“Ah. I misread the situation, then.”
“Guess so,” you said, “you can go back to your original seat.”
“No.”
Hisoka made a point to sink lower into the seat as he said “I'm comfortable now, so I think I'll stay.”
You didn't look happy when he said that, and you looked toward the aisle, seemingly in the hopes that your companion would come by and help you. Unfortunately for you, the man was nowhere to be seen, and so you stayed where you were for now, your eyes darting back and forth as you tried to figure out what to do in this moment.
Hisoka was in the same boat in that regard, questioning on if he should reveal the scheme you were caught up in now and see your reaction or if he should play with you a little bit longer.
The combative look in your eyes had him choose the latter.
“What has you traveling this late?” Hisoka asked.
You didn't answer.
He ignored that fact as he continued with “you don't look as though you're traveling for leisure. Are you meeting up with someone? Is it family? Friends?”
Once more you didn't reply.
Hisoka's lips curled into a smile as he then asked “boyfriend?”
Although you continued to remain silent, he saw the subtle reaction that word brought out of you. A brief stiffening of your facial features before the slight frown on your lips set in just a bit deeper, your eyes glaring at something invisible in the space in front of you while you clutched at your backpack just a bit tighter.
“Ah, so that's who you're going to see, is it?” Hisoka asked, smiling good naturedly as he added “though it's a bit of a shame for me. I was hoping I might have a chance with you.”
You rolled your eyes while you scoffed, now looking more annoyed.
“That's a pretty rude reaction,” he said.
“It's also pretty rude to keep bugging someone after you learn that there's another person in the picture,” you replied.
“So you're loyal to him? That's very cute.”
That time you glared at him.
Hisoka tilted his head as he feigned confusion, asking “did I say something wrong?”
“I'd really like it if you would go away,” you told him.
“I told you: I'm comfortable here.”
The scowl on your face worsened, but you now seemed determined to ignore him, leaning your elbow on the armrest as you kept your gaze on the outside once again. The frown on your face and your furrowed eyebrows remained, however, and he saw you fighting the urge to glance over in his direction.
Your companion had yet to return, so he was most likely still on the phone. Though probably not with Chrollo. Hisoka doubted that Chrollo would want him away from you for too long, so whoever he was speaking to was most likely someone outside of the situation.
Careless. But at least it worked in the magician's favor.
Hisoka began to speak to you again, asking more questions that were designed to get beneath your skin. But this time there was no response to anything he asked as you were determined to ignore him. After about a minute of getting nothing out of you, he pouted.
“You're being boring,” he said.
“Good. Maybe that'll make you leave me alone,” you said, “feel free to go away.”
“No.”
You shrugged as you said “then I guess you need to sit there and be bored by me.”
“How heartless,” said Hisoka, “and here all I was trying to do was be friendly.”
“Now that's a fucking lie.”
He couldn't help but smirk a little at that response of yours. You were trying to keep it suppressed, but he saw that little bit of fire in you whenever you snapped at him.
He was starting to like you.
And as he looked at those marks on your neck again, he thought of a new way to rile you up.
“Really, though,” he said, bringing your attention back to him as he continued with “what does your boyfriend do to you?”
You snapped your head back in his direction, breathing in harshly as you looked like you wanted to hit him.
But you restrained yourself.
Adjusting the grip on your bag, you made a move to get up and leave – but the area between the seats were small enough and Hisoka's legs were long enough that he was able to stretch one across and block you in. You stopped and looked back to him. While you could probably get over his leg if you really wanted to, you seemed to want to take back some sort of control in this situation and make him get out of your way.
“Move,” you ordered.
“No,” Hisoka answered. He couldn't help smiling when your glare worsened.
“Are you stupid?” you asked, “there's a lot of people around. You really want me to get everyone's attention and expose you for being a creep?”
“It wouldn't be a good idea for you to go that far.”
“And why's that?”Hisoka smiled as he said “because if you make too much of a fuss, it'll only be worse when Chrollo collects you.”
At the sound of that name, you stilled.
Your eyes widened as you looked at him in shock, your mind no doubt racing as you struggled to understand how a random bystander could know anything about you or the person you were running from.
Eventually you forced yourself to reply.
“… I don't know what you're talking about,” you said, though your voice was barely above a whisper.
Hisoka laughed.“If you're going to lie you need to respond faster. The fact that it looks like your soul is ready to leave your body doesn't help, either,” he told you.
You frowned, though the look of shock didn't leave you.
“You're being serious?” you asked.
“I am.”
“…… Is he here?”
“No. But he is waiting for you at the next station,” Hisoka answered.
You fell against the back of your seat, trying to keep your breathing level as you processed this new information.
“Chrollo couldn't know about this,” you said, “Nevin and I…. We were so careful. We made sure we covered our tracks. He can't know.”
“He does,” Hisoka answered.
“How do you know that?"
“I heard your friend talking to him on the phone earlier.”
“What?”
You looked gutted when you asked that.
“You heard me. Your friend is setting you up,” he told you.
A new wave of shock swept over you, though this time it was quickly followed by denial.
“That's a lie,” you said, shaking your head as you added “he wouldn't do that to me. Nevin wants to help me.”
Hisoka shrugged, saying “if that's what you want to believe, then fine. But don't blame me when Chrollo collects you.”
The magician then moved his leg away as he continued with “do as you please.”
You were caught off-guard by that reaction, and you looked to the now unblocked path before looking back to him. It didn't seem as though you knew what to do and you were still uncertain if you could believe him or not.
“Do you have any proof?” you asked a moment later.
“Proof?”
“Do you have anything other than your word?” you reiterated.
“How in the world would I have proof when I only just learned of all this?” Hisoka asked back.
Before you could answer, Hisoka interjected to say “but ask yourself this: who do you think Nevin has been speaking to every time he leaves the car to take a call?”
“….. Chrollo?”
Hisoka nodded.
“Your friend is probably still on the phone with him; if you want to know for certain, go and check,” the magician added.
Once more, you looked to the path that Hisoka now allowed for you, your mind now racing as you went over your options, thinking to yourself on if you could trust the word of a stranger or if you should keep your faith in your friend. While Hisoka had no proof, the fact that he knew of Chrollo and your connection to him should have been enough to give you pause.
It seemed that you made your decision when you stood. And after slinging your backpack on, you stepped past him and into the aisle.
But you didn't go to where Nevin was.
You went in the opposite direction, away from both your friend and Hisoka as you walked down the aisle at a fast pace. The door to the next car slid shut after you, and Hisoka watched through the glass windows as you went further and further towards the end of the train. There wasn't any stop between here and Merchester; you couldn't get off before then. Not without taking a rough landing.
Would your companion notice before then?
As if on queue, the sliding door at the end of the car opened, and Hisoka glanced behind to find that your friend had reentered. He seemed calm as he placed his phone back in his pocket, though it looked as though his mind was on other things as he walked back down towards his seat as there was a distant look in his eyes.
That changed when Nevin reached where you had been previously, and once he saw the empty seat, he stopped.
“Wh-where's-?”
The man stuttering forced Hisoka to look up at him, and Nevin managed to compose himself a bit as he asked “the person who was sitting there – d-do you know where they went?”
Hisoka shrugged.
Nevin seemed annoyed, but he didn't bother saying anything more to the magician as he began walking again, heading to the other end of the car in search of you. He didn't seem worried at the moment – there were innocent explanations for your absence, but no doubt he'd been given strict instructions to keep an eye on you at all times. Whatever payday he was hoping to get from Chrollo wouldn't come if he failed in any part of his task.
When Nevin failed to find you in either of the bathrooms next to the car, Hisoka noticed when he began to seem more nervous. He stepped in for a brief moment to grab his own bag that he had left sitting on his seat and then took off at a hurried pace as he went to hunt for you.
Hisoka checked the time.
Forty five minutes.
Hisoka counted to ten before he got up as well, taking his time as he followed the same path the two of you had taken. You might be gone already, in which case that man would no doubt turn into a wreck as he contemplated trying again to hunt you down or phoning Chrollo to tell him that he had failed. But if you were still here, what would he do once he found you? Talk you into believing him? Or use physical force to keep you on board for over half an hour?
Would you try to get off the train before he made it to you? Or would you confront him? What would you even be able to do if you confronted him?
And what did Hisoka hope to gain from this?
Truthfully, he hadn't even thought on that in the beginning. All he knew was that Chrollo had some involvement and therefore, Hisoka needed to know what was going on. But now that he'd involved himself and alerted you, what would happen from here? Was there any way this could lead to that fight he wanted with Chrollo? It didn't seem as though any of the troupe would be present with him, so it was as good a chance as any.
Although that didn't mean that the station setting would be a good one. While the late hour meant that there would be fewer people at the station when you got off, there would still be people regardless, and if things were too public, law enforcement would end up being called. Should he wait until you and Chrollo were away from the station? But doing that would mean following him, and while Hisoka was good at tailing people, Chrollo was just as skilled at sensing when he was being followed.
Maybe Hisoka should take you before the train reached Merchester, tell your friend where he would be and let the message be passed on to Chrollo. Then all he would do was wait until the leader of the Phantom Troupe arrived for you. If you had value to Chrollo then using you as bait would be easy. And once he had arrived, Hisoka could let you go. Hell, he could let you go after your friend got the message; you weren't needed for anything else.
But how would Chrollo react if you were killed?
The thought suddenly struck him, and Hisoka's mind began to race as he wondered: if he used one of his cards to slice your throat open and let you bleed out, what would the boss do?
If you died right in front of him, would Chrollo be moved in any way?
…. He was getting ahead of himself.
Right now Hisoka needed to focus on the present: that meant finding out where you were.
The answer to that question was revealed when Hisoka found his way to the back of the train. In one of the baggage cars, he found you and Nevin. You were keeping your distance, your hand ready to grab at the handle of the door on the other end while Nevin was speaking to you as he slowly began to close the distance. Nevin looked over when he heard the door open, and when he saw Hisoka walk in, his expression became confused.
“You – why are you here?!” he asked, his tone accusatory.
Hisoka once again shrugged, leaning against the nearby wall as he waited to see what the outcome of this confrontation would be like. The two of you made eye contact when he looked to you, and though you were still wary, his presence seemed to have given you some sense of security.
You got your friend's attention when you said “Nevin, tell me the truth.”
Your friend turned back to you, asking “truth? What are you talking about?”
“Tell me what's really going on,” you demanded.
Nevin froze when you said that, and Hisoka could see the sweat forming on the back of his neck.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
The lie was obvious.
There was anger bubbling in you now, and your tone reflected that as you said “is it true that you set me up? Is Chrollo really waiting for me at the station?”
Nevin seemed shocked, stuttering out “I-I, I don't-”
“Answer the question!” you yelled.
After a few moments of seeming lost, the man's shoulders sank.
It took him a moment to gather himself before he said “please, you need to understand. My mom – her illness came back. I didn't know what to do, and then Mr. Lucilfer said he would give me all the funds I needed to help her.”
He sold you out. Hisoka had told you the truth.
That revelation hit you hard, and you needed to place a hand on the door you were leaning on to keep yourself upright as despair took you over. That was likely the point in using your friend for this: to teach you that no matter who you went to, Chrollo could control them.
Such a discovery would break the spirits of most people, and it seemed to have broken yours.
Excuses and explanations came spilling from your friend's mouth, about how his parents' savings were decimated last time, how they were never good at saving, how the options he had to help them were limited. How you should understand that he couldn't stand by and let his mother suffer. That you should understand that he had no choice. That you would do the same if you were in the position he was.
You weren't responsive to any of what he said; your mind appeared to only be focused on the fact that you'd been tricked and that there had never been any chance of you escaping your captor. As a result, you stared off into nothing, your movements looking robotic as your hand reached inside your backpack to grab at something, meanwhile your companion was repeating the same drivel, desperately trying to get you to empathize with his family's plight. The longer you went without reacting, the more distressed Nevin became.
“Please, think about this logically,” he pleaded, “there's actual good that can come of this: you going back can help save someone's life. That's worth it, right? My mom is worth that, right?”
You didn't respond.
Then he added “besides, Mr. Lucilfer doesn't seem that bad. I get that he's weird, but all he wants to do is love you, right? It's not like things would be that awful for you if you went back to him.”
Nevin clearly didn't believe the things coming from his mouth now, and all of it was part of that effort to make you stay where you were. But your breath hitched when he said that, and at that moment all that could be seen was a dead look in your eyes.
Your friend was still talking, you weren't doing anything, and the time was slowly ticking away.
Hisoka found himself becoming disappointed in you.
After he'd bothered to warn you, were you really going to do nothing? You were really going to fold so easily and go back beneath the watch of your captor? The confirmation that Chrollo really was waiting for you was enough to extinguish any fight in you?
Disappointing was the only word that went through his mind.
Ah, well. At least it made his choice easy. He'd go with what he'd initially thought of and use you as a way to lure Chrollo. He would decide later whether or not to kill you.
Hisoka stood up and began to walk towards the two of you, which brought Nevin's attention back to him.
“Listen,” Nevin began, “I don't know who you are or what you want, but you need to leave us alone.”
Your companion placed a hand on your shoulder as he continued with “the guy we're going to see isn't someone you want-”
You stabbed him in the eye.
Hisoka had seen it coming. He saw the way you had looked at your friend and how fast you had pulled your hand back out from your bag. He'd seen the pen clenched tightly in your fist and how you aimed for the head, piercing through the side of his eye. He'd seen the cold look in your own eyes when you did all of that.
Yet it still managed to catch him off guard, and Hisoka stared at you in awe as you pulled your hand away and stumbled backward, the pen jutting out of your friend's skull while the blood dripped down his cheek.
A certain sense of exhilaration filled him now as he stared at you; it was the same sense he would get whenever he found a worthwhile opponent. Yet it managed to feel even stronger with you, and all he wanted in that moment was to take you for himself.
Though he wasn't allowed much time to take it all in.
Only a second had passed by before Nevin started screaming at the top of his lungs.
Or rather, he had begun to.
The instant Nevin began to scream, Hisoka activated his ability. With one movement he had covered up Nevin's mouth and nose. His cries of pain could still be heard, but they were now muffled through the layer of Bungee Gum that had now cut off his air. Confused and in pain, Nevin attempted to grab at what he only knew as an invisible force around his face, only to get his hands stuck as well, all the while the pen stuck out of his bloody eye.
The next moments were that of a mad panic: still in pain and without being able to even see what was now suffocating him, Nevin stumbled forward as he began to flail about the train car, pulling himself forward to bash against the walls while the noises coming from his blocked mouth began to sound more like screams that were stuck beneath water. All he was doing was hurting himself, but he likely couldn't feel it in that moment, far too panicked from all that was happening.
Nevin lunged at Hisoka, to which the magician sidestepped him and allowed him to tumble to the floor. The Bungee Gum wrapped around his head now kept him stuck to the smooth surface, and he continued his wailing as he tried to use his feet to scramble back up.
Hisoka turned back to you then.
You looked fearful. There was a disturbed look in your eyes as you saw just how much blood had managed to spatter across the walls during Nevin's rampage, and that disturbed look remained when you looked at him in his current state. Your lack of nen meant you couldn't see Hisoka's ability, and therefore you were just as confused as to what was keeping him stuck like that.
And yet, even though he could spot the fear and even pity in your eyes for your former friend, Hisoka felt certain that he saw a part of you that was satisfied.
That man betrayed you. He deserved it.
Hisoka stepped forward and that was when you looked to him once more. Based on the face you made when you saw him, he must not have been doing a good job at hiding how excited he was, and you quickly turned to open the door behind you and make a break for it.
He followed, slamming the door back open with no thought given to the man who continued to writhe against the floor behind him.
Hisoka wasn't going to let you leave.
You had already reached the door to the outside as you fumbled with the handle. It took half a second for Hisoka to calm himself, and as you were about to pull the exit open, he called to you.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
The sound of his voice caused you to stop. Turning to face him, you pressed yourself up against the door as you watched him slowly approach you.
“Well?” Hisoka pressed as he stopped in front of you, asking “where exactly do you think you'll be going from here?”
“….. I don't know,” you answered, “but I can figure out something as long as I leave now.”
Hisoka raised an eyebrow as he asked “and you think that will be enough to get away from Chrollo?”
“He-he doesn't know what's happened, right? And we still have time before we get to Merchester. Enough to give me a head start, at least,” you insisted.
“A head start to where?”
Your mouth opened to answer that question, but then you faltered, remaining silent as your mind struggled to formulate an response.
But what could you even say? What solution could you come up with as the limited amount of time grew smaller and smaller before Chrollo would inevitably confront you and whisk you away once again? Everything about your planned escape had no doubt heavily depended on your friend – what could you do now that you were on your own? Even if you jumped off now and made a run for it, how long would you be able to go on like that before Chrollo found you? And how much worse would it be for you when Chrollo inevitably did find you?
It was hopeless and you knew it.
“Well? What genius plan can you come up with to get away from Chrollo?” Hisoka prodded.
You hung your head in despair as you quietly asked “why are you doing this? Who even are you?”
He laughed.
“I know we didn't speak to one another at Heavens Arena, but with the way you were looking at me earlier I thought you would've remembered me by now.”
“Heavens…..”
Your voice trailed off, and at first, it didn't click for you. Hisoka almost thought he would need to spell it out even further when he saw the realization take over your face, and suddenly you looked even more terrified.
“You're one of them,” you breathed, “you're part of the troupe. Hisoka.”
Hisoka smiled as he said “I'm flattered that you know my name. Did boss tell you?”
“…. I don't understand. Why tell me what was going on and do what you did to Nevin if all you were going to do was hand me off to – oh.”
Your shoulders sank after you cut yourself off and you somehow managed to look even more miserable.
“Oh?” Hisoka repeated.
“This is just you trying to get better standing with Chrollo or something, right? Chrollo never talked about you, but I heard enough from the others to know that not many of them trust you.”
Your expression was bleak again when you said “are you going to tell Chrollo that Nevin was going to betray him and that you stopped in order to earn his trust?”
The bleak look left your face and turned into confusion when Hisoka chuckled.
“That's an interesting thought, but no,” he told you.
“What do you want, then?” you asked.
“What I want, hm?”
The magician stared down at you, and you in turn looked up at him nervously.
“At first I thought I wanted to fight Chrollo,” Hisoka began, “and that I would use you to get to him.”
The way he said he would use you only made you more distressed, but you stayed still where you were, and there was some sense that you knew you wouldn't be able to run from him even if you tried.
You must have learned that the hard way with Chrollo.
And as he thought of the boss, Hisoka's eyes went back to the marks on your neck.
The marks that Chrollo made.
Hisoka wondered what it had been like when Chrollo made those marks on you. Had you fought back and forced him to restrain you as he did what he wanted, or did you lie down and let it happen, having learned that there was no point in struggling against him? How long had you taken whatever he did to you, and what had been your breaking point that forced you to attempt escape?
What made Chrollo choose to do any of this?
For someone as strange as Hisoka admittedly was, he couldn't help but be curious as Chrollo was even more of an enigma of a human being. Things that the troupe stole generally ended up being sold some months after, with Chrollo rarely if ever becoming attached enough to keep anything, only holding onto the items stolen from their heists long enough to appreciate whatever qualities of beauty or value they had. The only thing that seemed to have any true value to him was the troupe itself; anything or anyone outside of that group could and would be easily discarded.
Yet the man wanted to keep you, enough so that he allowed you out for the sole purpose of teaching you the lesson that escaping him was impossible.
What was it about you that he liked? Was it purely a physical attraction or did he like your personality? Maybe it was a combination of the two? How had you come to meet him? Had he taken you forcibly like almost everything else that ended up in his possession? Or had you been tricked with sweet words and the veil lifted once you weren't in a position where you could get away as easily?
What was he going to do to you if he caught up with you?
Hisoka then smirked to himself. That last part didn't matter.
Hisoka saw something in you that he liked, and for that reason, Chrollo wouldn't have you again.
He placed his hands on either side of you while he leaned in, and in that way he kept you caged against the door. As much as you tried to back away into the glass of the window behind you, you had no way of putting any distance between you two. You were stuck with the magician leering down at you.
“But now that I've thought it over,” Hisoka then continued, “I've decided that I'm going to keep you for myself.”
Your expression went from nervous to terrified and you stood there, staring at him in silence.
Hisoka smiled.
“Scared?” he asked.
You nodded slowly.
“You shouldn't be,” he said, moving his hand so he could stroke your cheek. The action made you shudder while he continued.
“I like you, so I'll keep you safe.”
Hearing that did little to please you.
“…. I'd rather you didn't like me,” you whispered.
“Oh? So you want to end up like that one?” Hisoka asked, nodding with his head towards the other car.
You shook your head.
“I just want people like you to leave me alone.”
He smirked as he repeated “people like me?”
“You and Chrollo,” you said, “both of you hurt others for the sake of your own wants and you don't care about the lives you ruin in the process. Just as long as you get what you want, nothing else matters.”
“Ah, is that how you see it?”
“Are you saying I'm wrong?”
Hisoka conceded with a shrug of his shoulders as he replied “no, I can't find any reason to disagree.”
“But I can't find any reason to care, either,” he added, saying “feel free to think whatever you like of me, but it's like you said: as long as I get what I want, I don't care about anything else.”
His hand slid from down your cheek and to your neck, his sharp nails brushing against your skin as he focused on the marks left on your skin, already thinking about the way he would cover them up with his own.
You looked defeated as you asked “it doesn't matter if I try and fight you, does it?”
“It would be a useless endeavor,” Hisoka confirmed, “but if you truly can't stand the thought of being mine, I'll let you go. Though my question from earlier still stands.”
That was a lie. He wouldn't let you go no matter what you chose.
But pushing you to pick him was fun in it's own way.
You remained quiet, and Hisoka prodded you again as he said “it's your choice: you can try to escape on your own and inevitably end up back with Chrollo, or you do as I say, and I'll see to it that you have an easier time.”
You began to tremble as you stared at nothing in front of you.
Then Hisoka watched as your hand went to grasp at your arm. The same arm he'd seen in the sling that first time he'd met you. Tears were welling up in your eyes as you were no doubt remembering something unpleasant.
“He broke your arm, didn't he?” Hisoka asked, “when I saw you that time in the elevator, you were being led away for a further punishment, weren't you? After going through that, what do you think he'll do once he has his hands on you again?”
The way you bit your lip had him believing that he was right.
Then you shook your head.
“He didn't break it,” you answered softly.
“Oh? Who did?”
“The…. The black haired one, with glasses. Shizuku.”
Hisoka hummed as he asked “and what exactly happened that resulted in her breaking your arm?”
“….. The window was open and I….. I tried to push her out of it.”
The grip on your arm became tighter when you added “I was too slow and she grabbed me too hard.”
“What did she do to you?” Hisoka asked.
“Nothing. She hadn't even spoken to me. But…..”
He raised an eyebrow, silently encouraging you to continue.
“….. It's not easy to hurt Chrollo,” you began, “he doesn't care if I destroy his things, and he's too strong for me to do anything to him physically. Even if I tell him every day that I hate him and that I actively wish for someone will tear him limb from limb, it doesn't phase him.”
“But he cares about the troupe. He cares about their well-being, and even if he tries to hide it, you can tell that he's upset whenever something happens to one of them,” you continued, “on that day, when I saw her standing next to the window on a floor that high up…… All I saw was my chance to hurt him. That I could make him finally regret all he'd done to me once he saw her splattered on the ground.”
The memory was replaying itself in your head. And as Hisoka gazed into your eyes that currently had a far-off look to them while you relived that memory, he caught a glimpse of bloodlust within them, one that was similar to the look in your eyes when you had stabbed Nevin only minutes ago. An urge to kill that he was intimately familiar with but was still so new to you as that feeling didn't last long within you. Your brows furrowed and your gaze became more pained while you kept your grip on your arm.
Despite all that had been done to you, you still felt guilt for trying to kill someone, even if it was someone who had hurt you.
But the fact that you'd been driven to such lengths was impressive to him.
He wished he could've been there, present in that room and able to watch for the moment where you caught sight of Shizuku innocently standing by the window and your morals were tossed to the side. He wondered if the expression on your face when you decided that you wanted to end her life was similar to what he had seen earlier: cold and unfeeling. Or had your expression been one of rage? Of the quiet individual who had been pushed too far for too long? Or were you panicking when you rushed towards her, looking ready to cry as you tried to commit an act that at the time was unthinkable for you?
“Tell me,” he said then, “what did Chrollo do to you after that?”
“…… It was a long time before I got to see sunlight again,” you mumbled. You didn't offer any more information than that.
“The fact that Chrollo let you live after you tried to kill one of the troupe is a miracle in of itself,” Hisoka told you, “he must truly love you to keep you even after that.”
“…. I don't want him to love me.”
“Well, you don't have much choice in that, do you?”
There wasn't any response you could give to that, and you bit your lip in frustration. You were crying now while your hand continued to squeeze at your arm. Whatever would happen once you were back with Chrollo would be bad. That you had continued to defy him by running after the punishment you received for the stunt with Shizuku meant that Chrollo's methods weren't effective enough. Hisoka idly wondered if Chrollo had wanted to give you the opportunity to get into contact with your friend as a way to test you, or if you managing to make contact was an oversight on his part.
Though just like before, it didn't matter.
Hisoka hadn't checked his phone in some time, but a considerable amount of time had passed since he had last looked. There could only be thirty minutes left until the train reached Merchester at most. Either you were going to agree to go with him or he would knock you out and take you.
It seemed as though you sensed the time limit as well as you finally spoke up to ask one last question.
“You won't hurt me?”
Your voice sounded far weaker than he'd ever heard it, and you wavered halfway through the question while tears continued to run down your cheeks.
He reached up to wipe them away with his thumb.
“I can't promise no pain,” he began, “but I can assure you that I will never hurt you on purpose.”
You were frowning at that, but the way you averted your eyes as you turned your head down seemed to indicate that you knew even that was better than going back to your previous captor.
He grinned when you made your choice.
“Okay.”
Hisoka grabbed you by the hand and pulled you away from the door, opening it without any hesitation. The noise from the wind and the wheels on the tracks were overwhelming as the two of you stepped out onto the small platform at the back, and despite your apprehension in regards to him, you clutched at the hand that held yours anyway as you looked out at the tracks beneath you and the darkened night beyond.
You were so desperate to get away from Chrollo that you would do anything and turn to anyone to achieve that goal. Even if it meant turning to someone like Hisoka for help. Even if it meant committing heinous acts yourself. As much as you wanted to admonish Hisoka and Chrollo for the way their actions, you must have realized that you were beginning to imitate them in that sense. That you were determined to get what you wanted even if it meant hurting other people.
Perhaps some of your misery came in realizing that fact.
The magician then remembered one last thing he needed to do before the two of you left, and he let go of your hand in favor of patting you on the cheek as he told you to wait for him. The noise outside made it hard to hear, but you seemed to understand him.
He was pleased when he went back inside the train and saw that you did as you were told.
The disappointment he had felt from earlier in the day was long-since forgotten, and now Hisoka counted himself lucky that he had stumbled onto you, and all of it was because of random chance that had him in the right place at the right time to hear the exact information he needed in order to make you his.
Chrollo stared out at the tracks, his eyes following along the long metal lines until they became impossible to see. A fog had fallen since the train had pulled into the station, and the flashing lights of the police cars behind him illuminated it, switching the gray of the night into blue and red in rapid succession.
Beyond the fog and the tracks was darkness.
And beyond that, somewhere, was you.
Chrollo began to walk towards the tracks, away from the crime scene you had left behind. He had seen it already. After the train staff had called for help but before the police had arrived, Chrollo had no issue getting on board and using one of his abilities to keep the staff out of his way as he looked over the body that had been discovered in the baggage compartment.
He wasn't truly surprised at the scene, and yet he did need to admit that it was bloodier than he had anticipated. The struggle that had occurred there had left bloodstains strewn about the walls and the floor, and all of it led to the body at the center of the car. Nevin's body was instantly recognizable, as was the pen that had been sticking out of his eye socket, one that Chrollo recognized as being in your possession.
As expected, once he saw that your friend was dead, there was no sign of you anywhere. Upon entering the very last car, Chrollo's gaze had gone to the door that led to the outside, and it was easy to imagine you climbing over the railing at the back and jumping off before you disappeared into the night.
When the police sirens were close enough to be heard in the distance, Chrollo left, though not before collecting the cellphone Nevin had used to frequently contact him from before.
But it had been then that he saw something that made him pause.
Chrollo continued to walk as he thought on it: one of Nevin's hands was more damaged than the other, to the point that the skin at the tips of his fingers and a few of his fingernails were missing. They'd been torn off, to be exact, as Chrollo noticed them soon after on the other side of Nevin's head. Imprints of his bloody fingers could be seen not far from where he had been laying, as though he'd been trying to pull himself up. The dark marks left on the floor from his shoes also indicated as such.
How had you killed him for that to be the end result?
Had you even killed him?
Chrollo had seen first hand that you could be driven to unexpected lengths when you were pushed far enough, and the pen that had been left behind was definitely yours.
But something about the scene didn't feel right. The torn flesh of the fingers didn't make sense, and neither did the fact that there was little if any blood in the last train car. If you had killed Nevin in a violent struggle, there would have been signs of your escape in the form of a bloody shoe print or perhaps some injuries of your own. That there was nothing back there made no sense.
What had happened there?
While the theories on potential scenarios ran through his mind, it was impossible to tell with such little information.
And so the bad feeling stuck with him.
The bad feeling would grow shortly after, when he would discover that even his furthest reaching abilities couldn't locate you. And even later when some of the troupe would lend their assistance in locating you, the belief being that you couldn't have gone far – you had left the jenny in your friend's wallet behind and you didn't know the area. Yet there was no sign of you.
The bad feeling would become worse later on still when Chrollo would learn the results of Nevin's autopsy report and find that the man had died from asphyxiation, and he would be forced to again wonder what exactly had gone on in that car between the two of you. There was nothing found within the car that had been used as the murder weapon, and even if there had been, it still didn't explain the torn skin of his fingers.
More possibilities came to mind, more thoughts on who or what had killed your friend as he felt more and more certain that you hadn't been behind that.
Which meant that another, unknown party had inexplicably become involved. And the grim days would continue to pass for Chrollo as he searched for you, who seemed to have been plucked off the face of the earth.
But for now, in the middle of that foggy night while he walked along the tracks, the bad feeling remained relatively minor within him.
As he continued along his way, he looked out into the distance beyond the fog as he frowned to himself.
“Love,” Chrollo said aloud, “just what have you gotten yourself into now?”
they're up to no good



