Hey! I have a HxH requests cuz I'm desperate for that content. Do you have some headcanons for Chrollo if he had an S/O that was in the Troupe?
I rlly like ur writing❤
ᴄʜʀᴏʟʟᴏ ᴡ/ ᴀ ᴛʀᴏᴜᴘᴇ s/ᴏ
thank you so much for the request and the compliment! it’s short but i hope you enjoy:) i’m not sure if you wanted yan!chrollo, so i didn’t make it super dark haha
-it would probably be pretty unlikely that chrollo’s darling would be a fellow troupe member- he sees the spiders as his family, and if you were one as well, you would be a part of that. your best bet of becoming his s/o would either be a civilian or someone with a useful nen ability (think neon). but, if you were part of the troupe, you would most likely not be one of the original six. depending on how obsessive you want your chrollo to be, he may have forced you to join.
-while you’re in the troupe, don’t expect to be a very proactive member. chrollo wants you where he can see you, so any mission that requires your absence for more than a week is a big no. the only time he’d let you out of his sight would be if certain members he deemed worthy of protection were accompanying you. the rest of the troupe knows of his game of picking favorites, but it’s never mentioned.
-to chrollo, you aren’t even truly a person. yes, you’re your own body with thoughts and feelings, but he ultimately knows what is best for you, and what’s best is for you to be safe at his side. your best life with him would be little more than a pretty doll that he loves and cherishes with his whole being.
-after uvogin’s death, whatever freedom you had would be gone. chrollo already lost one leg, he couldn’t stand to lose another- especially you. you are a rare treasure in his bleak world, and the thought of losing you is too much. all of his spiders are equal in the troupe hierarchy, but to him personally, he couldn’t live with himself if you died.
-you are his and his alone, and he’d do anything to keep you.
Synopsis: You go to the eye doctor with your kidnapper.
Word count: 1000ish
notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, reader is worried about eye damage or going blind, reader has medical issues, written on my phone because the computer screen still hurts like heck with my eyes dilated, have mercy.
“I’m surprised you’re letting me do this,” you say, and where there might normally be sarcastic venom there is only a bit of shakiness making your words feel hollow. Hollow, maybe, but far too loud. And the door is open just a crack.
Chrollo shoots you a look. The look. The this-is-not-the-time-or-the-place look. And you drop your eyes and clasp your hands together, because as much as you don’t want to be here, sitting in the optometrist's chair, you also know that you need to be here.
Chrollo doesn’t exactly take you to regular doctor’s appointments. He does procure, somehow, your medication… he buys a home blood pressure cuff that you use once a week, and he doesn’t mind helping you stick your fingers to test your blood sugar.
But there are some things you can’t do at home, like check your eyes to make sure that something isn’t detaching or degrading or otherwise going terribly terribly wrong.
He rests his chin in his hand, elbows on the arm rest of the chair pushed up against the wall. The assistant had given both of you a look when he insisted on coming into the exam with you.
“My girlfriend gets nervous,” he’d said, smoothly, and she’d smiled and told him sweetly: How thoughtful you are!
Thoughtful. Right.
Chrollo hums, and while you can’t see him very well, you can guess the expression on his face. He’s thinking about something.
But all you can actually see is a great big blur. Your glasses are off, held in a case that Chrollo has tucked into his pocket, and your eyes have already been dilated and the test has been administered, the scans and lights and follow-my-fingers, and you’re waiting for them to come back and give you the news.
Good news or bad news. It’s terrifying, really, not to know. Because it’s not something you could tell, right? Not something easily testable like your blood pressure or heart rate or blood sugar. Maybe all this time you’ve been looking at the last books you’ll read with your eyes, the last paintings you’ll see in massive coffee table tomes Chrollo drops on your lap at your request, the last bits of winter frost on the windows of hotel rooms…
Your fingers curl, and you pinch the skin of your wrist hard. Please. Please. Please.
CHrist, what would you do, if they came in and said that something was wrong? That you were going to have vision loss? That you were going to be blind, eventually, down the road?
The thought makes your stomach flip, makes your heart thud.
"Um, Chrollo?” You ask, and your voice cracks and you hate it and you hate yourself.
“Yes?” His tone is warm and you know exactly why that assistant didn’t think twice about his explanation of why he had to come into the examination room with you.
“What… what if something’s wrong?” You pause. “With my eyes?”
You hear the shift of his clothing before you register that he’s moving, standing up, coming to stand near the black examination chair.
Normally you would shrink away or get up and move to the opposite side of the room.
His hand rests on your shoulder, rubbing it softly.
Normally you would slap his fingers, hiss something.
He leans down, and murmurs quietly, warmly, in a way that presses a hot comfort into your chest.
“There’s nothing wrong with your eyes. And if there were, by some slim chance, I would take care of you.”
You feel your lips tremble before they pout, before tears sting your eyes. Your curled fingers act of their own accord--that’s what you tell yourself later, to feel better--and reach up to grasp his hand. To take his fingers and mingle them with your own, wanting to feel the firmness, the reality, of him right there.
You squeeze, and he squeezes back.
The moment ticks on.
… If you did lose your vision, would it be gradual? Would things start getting dimmer, day by day? Or would you just wake up one day to realize it was gone? Would things be blurry, or would you not see them at all? How long would it take, when would happen, what if--
“I’m really scared.” Your words are so soft and quick that you wonder, at first, if he heard you.
But he kneels down, so you instinctively look at him--though it kind of hurts, and you blink too much. But you can make out some of his features, the firmness of his gaze, the set press of his lips.
“I’m right here,” he says, as if this should dispel all of your fears in one fell swoop. As if his presence in your life is something to make you feel good, something to comfort you, and not a sign that he’s the devil who stole you away.
His fingers rub over yours. His breathing is steady. You glance at him, vision blurry, chest tight. Your eyes are watery from the dilation solution and your own gnawing, awful worries.
“I won’t let anything happen,” he says. “You know that, don’t you?”
He’d get you through this. Yes. He could lift a car with his bare hands, he could control a group of people like puppets with a flip of a page in his book. So he could get you through this. Right?
Maybe… maybe for right now, as you’re sitting in this chair waiting to hear whether or not your vision is going, he can be that comfort.
Steady. Strong. There for you, no matter what.
You lean sideways, until your head rests against his cheek. Nuzzling, in the way he sometimes does to you. Except now his arm isn’t around your waist, keeping you pinned, and you’re not trying to squirm away on the couch.
Instead, you’re thinking: If he sits back down right now, I’m going to cry.
“You promise?” You mumble, heart still feeling sick and sore and anxious.
He hums. You feel the fingers of his hand pull away from yours, then return--but just the pinky. He winds it around yours with ease and presses a kiss to your cheek.
Synopsis: You and Phinks have a conversation on the way home.
Warning: pre-established relationship, mentions of stalking, not proofread at all lol
700~ words… a short blurb while I work on longer things :3
“You were laughing.”
“I can’t not laugh, he was just a customer. It wasn’t like I seriously thought he was funny.”
“You didn’t need to laugh so much.”
“Phinks, I need tips. I need to be friendly with customers. I’d lose my job if I was rude to customers.”
You sit stiffly in the passenger seat while Phinks drives you home. It was kind of sweet at first when he offered to pick you up from work, now it was bordering on invasive. He was gripping the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. Phinks goes quiet for a bit, not wanting to say something he’ll end up regretting. Eventually you both hit a bit of traffic, and the conversation starts up again.
“Why don’t you just quit your job?”
“What?” You wonder if you even heard him right. You look away from the traffic out the passenger window and to him, who is still looking straight ahead.
“Quit your job, I can take care of you and all that shit.” He says it with conviction, like he really means it. It puts you off, you aren’t interested in moving in with him, especially not being financially dependent on the man. You’ve only been dating Phinks for three months; you two were clearly on different timelines for this relationship. Phinks notices your lack of reply and glances at you, as if willing you to say something.
“No, it’s too soon for that.” Phinks scoffs at that, rolling his eyes. In the back of his mind, he’s reminded that you’ve only known him for three, almost four months. He’s known you for nine. You follow up your statement, trying to soften to the blow. “I do like you, really, but I think we should wait before taking that step.”
Phinks grits his teeth. He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, but it’s late, and it’s already tense between you two. “If you really don’t like your job, then you shouldn’t work there. I don’t see what the problem is.” He says, and you swear you think he’s accusing you of something. You frown, irritated that he’s throwing your own complaints about waitressing back at you. “It shouldn’t be a problem if you came to live with me.” Phinks adds, knowing good and well he needs to do some extra cleaning and cover up the holes in the walls before he even thinks of inviting you over.
The argument that’s thinly veiled as a conversation continues all the way to your home, even after you leave the car and Phinks follows you up to your doorstep. He’s leaning against the doorframe, intent on coming inside with you whether you drop the topic (that he brought up) or not. You don’t budge, standing firm on not quitting your job or moving in with him. “Maybe we should just break up if this is such an issue, maybe we aren’t that compatible.” You huff, only half serious. Maybe 80% serious. It’s enough to scare him into standing up straight. “You don’t mean that-“
“Goodnight, Phinks.” You cut him off, slamming the door in his face, locking it after. For some reason, you don’t feel as remorseful as you would have if he was anyone else. Perhaps this was a long time coming. It’s as if in that moment, all you can think of is all of the negatives of his relationship. Between his overbearing nature and his paranoia about you interacting with anyone of the opposite sex (which was beginning to extend to your female friends), maybe breaking up wouldn’t be so bad. It’d be like a weight lifted off your shoulder.
Phinks, on the other side of the door, is stunned; flabbergasted, even. Who the hell did you think you were? He’s in enough shock to not immediately force your door open to continue the conversation, trying to pick apart your words and why you would do that to him. Did he mess up? Did he throw away almost a year's worth of work, over your stupid waitressing job? He isn’t sure who to blame more, him for escalating the argument or you for not listening to him and threatening to leave him like that. Phinks takes in a deep breath, then another, willing himself to not break down your door. He can’t fucking believe you.
It seems like you wanted to do things the hard way.
soo i’ve been having this same thought with armin that i needdd to get out!
armin is definition of rich spoiled brat! he has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t get what he wants he would throw a huge fit until he got it.
his parents were sweetheart who didn’t find anything wrong with his behavior, like everyone else! but when armin stressed to them how he wanted — no needed, this girl he saw working in a coffee shop, who were they to deny their sweet boy.
it was whole plan constructed of getting her fired and telling her she could be armin’s personal maid for a large amount of money! she took the offer with a huge smile already feeling stress free
as she began to work, ‘’everything she tried to do for armin he would push off and ask her if she needed anything, he’d make her sit down for the entirety of her shift while he catered to all of her needs
and when i say all, i do mean all
you wanted a cold drink? armins got it! foot massage? armins your guy! needing help relieving the ache between your legs? ARMIN
you weren’t sure how it happened, but one minute you were begging him to allow you to do your job, and next your hands gripped his headboard in his large apartment size room, body bouncing on him while his licked your nipples bringing out an even more pleasurable experience
“ugh fuck minnn” he would smirk his blue eyes sparkling, while he held your chin to look in them. his mouth would just start saying things making your mind go hasty from the good sex and mushy feeling
“i l-love you y/n! my beautiful girl, m-ms.alert, mine. mine. mine” and gosh who would have known that was the moment that started armins crazy, no good, obsession
Synopsis: You’ve broken up with Uvogin. It was not the most well-thought out idea you’ve ever had. Commissioned piece.
Word count: 1000ish
notes: abusive relationship, violence, torture, descriptions of death/dying (not reader)
The sound of your boyfriend’s leg breaking was sickening. The unmistakable snap, the crackling sound of bone being splintered.
But it was his scream, hoarse and raw and pained, that made acidic bile rise in your throat. You didn’t throw up, because you had nothing left in you. You’d already thrown up when Uvogin had begun breaking his fingers, one by one, grinning thinly with satisfaction as he did so.
“Did you touch her with these fingers?” Uvo had asked.
And he had, and so Uvo broke those familiar fingers. Slowly. Methodically. Before moving on to other parts to hurt. Other parts to break and bend.
And you watched, frozen to the sofa. You weren’t tied up. Uvo didn’t bother. His presence was strong enough to keep you rooted to the spot. A glance at your trembling legs was enough to make you swear off trying to run.
Your boyfriend’s screams from his broken leg trailed off into terrible moans, into incoherent pleas for mercy, and you pulled your arms tight across your chest.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all.
Sweat dripped from the inkling’s forehead down onto the stage floor, her and her partner both trying to catch their breath amongst the cheers from the crowd. The music had fallen silent, but only for a moment. As the dark skinned woman looked over to Pearl, she could tell she was enjoying herself; she always did when they performed, it was her passion- No, their passion. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight and let out a soft giggle, continuing to watch as Pearl worked her magic to get the audience going again.
“Awriiiight!!” The rapper yelled out to the crowd, and grabbed the hem of her hoodie to wipe the sweat from her face. “Y’all better be feelin’ fresh out there! I hate to break it to ya, but this next number’s gonna be our last!” Hearing a myriad of ‘boo’s and ‘awww’s from the crowd got a chuckle out of Pearl as she shrugged her shoulders.
“I know I know I’m sorry! But y’all know how it is! We got things to do, places to be! You guys are our last stop on this tour, and it’s been a REAL blast. ‘Rina, you ready for this one??”
Marina responded with a nod, though she did have to wipe a tear from her eye. She knew what song was coming up next, and she knew it never failed to make her emotional. “Of course I am, Pearlie!” She laughed out, while Pearl gave a chuckle paired with a nod in response.
Five notes played, only for the crowd to immediately recognize the tune and roaring with excitement and cheers as the duo began to perform their hit, ‘Into the Light’. Both Pearl and Marina could see the folks in the crowd shed a few tears, the song seemed to be an emotional ride for just about everyone. As the first chorus started, they managed to get everyone to start a wave to the beat.
Every once in a while the two would make eye contact, and would simply smile in response. Just checking in on each other. Pearl could tell Marina was starting to let a few tears fall, but she knew she would be alright. Hell, it was taking everything in her not to join.
As the final chorus came around, Marina felt something around her waist and looked down. It was Pearl’s arm, while her other was extended with the microphone to their audience. She felt her cheeks heat up and practically glow her signature teal, before she was swayed from side to side. Pearl had started the wave with everyone again, but this time had a hold on Marina so she could sway with her. She felt her hearts racing in her chest.
As the song finally came to an end, both the rapper and the DJ were a mess of both giggles and tears. Pearl, still with her arm wrapped around the other, took a bow; Marina following suit. “Thank you all so much for coming out to see us tonight, it was lovely seeing everyone’s fresh faces!!” The octoling waved out to the crowd, before she felt Pearl every so slightly squeeze her a little closer. It was as if she was trying to fuse them at the hip. Marina’s blush only grew brighter.
“Yeahhhh, y’all are a great bunch!! Don’t worry, this ain’t our first tour and certainly it won’t be our last. Right, Marina?”
“Oh of course! We’ll be back, everyone, promise!” She giggled and wanted to turn so they could both walk offstage as the concert started to end, but Pearl only held her close. Was she always this strong? “One more thing, folks. Hey, I know y’all paparazzi people are out there, so get your cameras ready!” Pearl exclaimed with a rather proud smirk on her face. Marina immediately began to worry, what was she going to do?
She suddenly felt the shorter woman’s hand cupping her cheek, and was yanked down into a soft, deep kiss. Marina was so confused and startled at first. The two had been together for a while, but did their best to keep things hidden from the public eye. After all, the news and the tabloids can be cruel. But in this moment, Marina didn’t care. She draped an arm over Pearl’s back and tilted her head to kiss her even deeper. The crowd at this point were roaring with cheers for the two.
After what felt like forever, Pearl had to pull away to breathe and let out a few bursts of laughter. “Y’all better have taken a photo so it can last longer! This is MY woman, and I love her with all my hearts! Say what ya want, I don’t care!” She laughed and hugged Marina, who stood there with her mouth slightly agape. Pearl could hear her purring lowly, and did the same in response.
Suddenly, Marina grabbed Pearl up with ease, holding her by her thighs while she rested her head on the octoling’s shoulder. “C’mon, Pearlie~ Let’s go home! Bye everyone, and remember!”
“Don’t get cooked, stay Off the Hook!” The two yelled out in unison. Marina then turned to carry Pearl off, with Pearl waving goodbye to the crowd with a few giggles. This was all the two could ever ask for, to not feel a single ounce of regret for the choices they’ve made about their relationship, and to know that they are both truly loved and supported.
Later that evening, when the two finally got back to the tour van that they managed to park just out of range of any big public places, Marina flopped down in the bed with her beloved. She had carried her the whole way there. Pearl snuggled up on top of her, making sure to nuzzle her head right up under her chin.
“Mm… I think that was our best gig yet, ‘Rina..” Pearl purred out, practically on the verge of passing out then and there. Marina wouldn’t mind it if she did. She would run her hand down into Pearl’s oversized hoodie to rub her back. “Mmm… Me too, Pearlie~..” She couldn’t help but purr back through her words, before she closed her eyes and gave Pearl a squeeze.
