#hunterxhunterheadcannons

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hunter x Hunter||Illumi Zoldyck X Reader||Underworld Strings

I find Illumi to be such a fascinating character to dive into... This picture of him is my favourite; he looks like a porcelain doll, and he is considered beautiful in an unnerving way.

You couldn't really forget that day, it was embedded in your mind like a burr that refused to budge, your heart was in a standstill, nothing but the feeling of being in a vast ocean but just on the surface, for there was no place for you to sink in below that, simply the ocean depths did not exist, that's what you could describe Illumi's eyes like it was obsidan, but obsidan eye colours were funny shades of black that you could play around, mix to match the thoughts in your head and there was nothing in his. That day in the Hunter exam he approached you still, his aura was absent with the usual bloodlust as he handed you his badge, your every move was being analysed, Illumi had memorized the way you touched him to the way you were holding the badge, his badge was worth three points.

That wasn't the end of that strange feeling, an mail from an unknown sender but you didn't have to think twice that unerving aura, tinted with danger and something peculiar was Illumi's an assassination service. That was his act of love.

Whenever you kissed his soft skin, soft no blemishes you could see, it could come down to his diet everything was made sure he could be functioning at his maximum efficiency and he made sure to take care of you the same, coffee cakes had to much sugar, and caffeine seemed an unnecessary want in your diet he would quietly observe you across the table his hand on yours because you said you liked it, an elegant finger took the fork laying ideally on the table and slowly took a bite of the cake. For a moment you just paused, "The Caffeine will cause an energy burst before draining you again, it can interfere with your 9 hours of rest it's inefficient" he said clinically as usual but the slightest almost like a lilt that you never heard was present.

The cheek kisses was something Illumi never understood, any physical touch meant caution, training from his father, an act of violence he needed to act but what was the purpose of such an illogical act?

"This is for your safe return, 'lumi" you said, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, "This is for my pleasure" you would say, these were foreign concepts to him he understood negotiations, rules, constraints, nen not cheek kisses but he waited.

Illumi's hair was soft, silky on your hands just like a doll's you would brush it, and he let you do it it didn't serve as a data point anymore, the way he combed through your hair getting through tangles in a way you ever forgot they were tangled, it felt like you were the safest girl, the troupe wouldn' touch you because it meant meddling with the Zoldyck family, their connections stretched further in the underworld, the troupe had business with them to they would not jeprodize that.

The bed was always warm, to optimize comfort, to give your body the support it needs it was utterly bizzare in the arms of an elite assassin who found such things outside his theoretical knowledge recontextualized this was no longer what he saw, heard, classified now that it was happening to him again, he waited for that cheek kiss, that absurd demand for a coffee cake high sugar and all, the cheek kisses now didnt need to have a reason they just were.

Illumi is a broken man, it was like grains of time had aldready slipped by somewhere in the underworld his identity was wrapped there but not close enough to find nothing tangible to work on.

But, nowadays in Illumi's standstill heart his aura flickered once at night as your eyes almost widened in that imperceptible shift then a few more, It was out of Illumi' control, it was an uncalled variable maybe you had reached him if only a little.

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hunter X Hunter||Chrollo Lucilfer X Reader||Potion Drops Of Boredom

I've always wanted to have a nen ability with potions...

"It seems my initial appraisal was wrong the auction goods were sent through a proxy channel someone who operates outside of Shalnark's usual database," Chrollo mumbled thoughtfully, his voice carrying through the dark base with no more than a touch of detached curiosity simply to hear how a note would break or if the user had an ability worth stealing. "But, boss the notice was way too short even if our location had been leaked and Uvo managed to kill everyone through a big bang impact, and the informant was lying, Feitan used his torture skills." Shalnark tried only to be silenced when Chrollo raised his hand putting an abrupt end to the meeting

That was the last time that particular meeting was held regarding the stolen auction goods it was like a lapse in Chrollo's usual monotonous attention that targeted someone until their secrets spilled like jars of liquid until every single drop had been drainned, it was like their usually stoic, instatibaly curious leader just decided to finish the book midway the spiders all dispersed to their own rooms the meeting taking the backseat.

》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》

It was a long day at the base, the room smelt Freshly of harvested herbs a scent of aura fresh like grass, with the smell of petrichor in a bottle it was accompanied by mint but, with the hum of aura Chrollo knew your bottles carried, he stood by the door side watching you work with a glint of fascination he didn't use Gyo yet, in the risk he might miss your deft fingers moving across the herbs with a practiced ease, herbs being sizzled, the blade using to crush the juice.

He touched your arm just a whisper before he picked up a leaf bringing it to his nose he inhaled the strong scent something herbal, maybe for tea, "It helps you sleep, wards away nightmares and catches dreams."

"Dreams... ofcourse the conciousness conjures images some of them are more vivid quite like your potions." He mumbled examining another vial.

"It's quite a long process though I don't recommend it, the vials can't withstand so much heat, and it seems they are getting annoyed by the minute."

Day after day, winter was colder than ever the snow was collected by the pavements, the herbs needed to be stored in temperature controlled rooms, needed to be sealed to prevent the fog from getting collected up, whenever you thought about such a peculiar nen ability you had to wonder what was the purpose of having a wish granting potion, where the rules itself was a complex study? The more you read the more you uncovered, your sketches now took on strange Motifs, you wanted to draw, but, by the time the mechanical pencil would touch the blank sheet everything got converted to a blanket of dust, until you finally decided you'd stick to watching an urban documentary, documentaries were great.

The wash days were great with Chrollo to, these days you had no access to any sort of technology, TV channels, all of them were in tapes, or saved up Pen drives there had been to many digital leaks until all of them got cleaned, and the auction mania was settled this was your new boredom.

The scent of citrus coated the bathroom, as your feet glided through wet marble tiles a jute basket carried shampoo, Conditioner and the cream for a bit of indulgence and to pass some time, Chrollo's hands across your scalp felt like a lover's trail barely their but, unmistakable it was a sensory overload, and it wasn't only boredom, the pressure was just right when he cleaned your scalp, your back was washed with a reverence that bordered on being religious.

Then it was the long walks around the perimeter of the safe house his tailored blazer around your shoulder, as you spoke about everything under the sun to him.

The reading sessions were longer than ever from dawn to dusk, there was to much to read, to little time in a way.

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hunter X Hunter||Dating Illumi Zoldyck||Illumi X Reader

There is no ending, no beginning, you've seen the end of the abyss yet put one foot in it.

The dark colour pallete for him...

It was one of those days in the mansion the more lonelier days where the smell of petrichor lingered just a little more longer, the rain padding just a little heavier drowning the cries of your own mind into an almost melancholic reminder, the walls in the beautiful estate seem to be just a little more closer each footstep amplified like echos in the Zoldyck mansion. The mountain was completely cut off from the outside, communication was picked up by fast-moving, elegant butlers who hardly spoke more than required, and said more than needed. They were almost like dolls fiercely loyal to the Zoldyck family, keeping their underground secrets with their life.

Illumi Zolydyck used highly versatile nen embedded needles into his targets, which granted him the freedom to either enslave them for their entire life, render them useless or get rid of them. You slowly cast a look towards your boyfriend of all sorts. Illumi sat his posture straight, mechanical but easy and slow in his own way. It was something only Illumi would do. He looked at his needle, then set it down neatly, picking up another one. To examine it. This is what he did during the evenings when he had no missions.

You had never seen him sleep, or even rest during those longer nights you had woken up to reach for a glass of water, nearly dropping it half in exasperation, well used to your boyfriend's odd behaviour and half-shocked when his obsidian eyes blinked at you like he just remembered he needed to blink. "I noticed you were fidgeting in your sleep, so I changed your pillow, and the pillow cover. This one is softer. You had moved three times than usual after I changed it, and you stopped moving." A steady, almost imperceptible breath left your nostrils, your heartbeat slowly calming down." What..?" The word left you before you could stop it but Illumi looked at you like it was the most natural thing in the world. Before repeating his claim, as if it were the most logical thing to do. "Thank..you, Illumi, that..was really thoughtful of you" That wasn't the word you would've used on any other day, but this was Illumi we were talking about.

Sometimes, in the dead of the night, you would see Illumi pacing around the roof. He wanted to have you closer, close enough to watch you in his mind. He was simply keeping you close, watching over you, protecting you. u, Illumi, were sure because if he really loved you, he had to keep you close. You were his after all.

Illumi didn't believe in friendships, or bonds you knew that the moment you were with him, his almost curious fascination with th3 subject itself, like he was simply a curious observer watching from afar cataloging the details in a log, then storing the information away from later when he saw you knees tucked in cold winter nights a cardigan wrapping around your shoulders flipping pages engrossed in the book which seemed to take you miles away into an unknown world, he would notice the soft breathy sigh you would release when the chapter hit romantic undertones, or the tightening od your fingers when your favorite character would be meeting his timely death it was all stored away in his mind but what would he do with such pieces of information for once that wasn't mentioned in what he studied as an assassin, it wasn't there from what he learnt from his father Silva Zoldyck he wondered what would happen if he would go and ask his father if he had an answer to the strange feelings he would erupt these inefficient feelings he had towards you.

Illumi Zoldyck wasn't impulsive in the slightest sense, quite the opposite he was rational, he was patient in his art. He didn't believe in recklessly pursuing rewards, beautiful things meant nothing to him if he had nothing to gain from it all this time his path as an Elite assassin meant he would observe his prey so carefully it was so unnerving to the target they almsot always succumbed to the pressure itself, they had long lost the will to survive then his nen needles did the work perfectly...like it was another Tuesday.

However, you were a variable Illumi Zoldyck who lived his life accounting for every risk, filing away information, because he couldn't place you in one single category, cause you would always find a way to make him unsettled. You were living in your own bubble, tucked away from the shadows. Yorknew City would loom over you, and the scent of auctions would not disturb you, as if this sanctuary you built for yourself was something people needed permission to enter.

And Illumi Zoldyck wanted to know what it was that made him want to peel you back piece by piece. What did you tuck away when no one was watching?

Illumi no longer felt like just someone on the outside looking in, no longer felt he was just storing information because what he was after wasn't a fleeting moment he had not much morality to begin with.

Would someone like you try to fix his twisted senses, that had long been wrapped by darkness and art, art that he had perfected for years now, or would it consume him as much as it was consuming you?

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hunter X Hunter||Chrollo Lucilfer X Reader||Dating Him Is Sin in Silk

When you were warned villains won't give you happy endings, but the warning never reached you...

The Cathedral was just a whisper of Nen coating the halls like a persistent burr; the residual in this place was always trapped, like this was all it knew and a few candles were the only source of light in the moon was pale, Chrollo had a half-restored journal open on his lap, the hexagon showing the six Nen types was indefinitely flawed if compared to the research now if this particular technique would be applied the backlash would increase like a drunk person's antics, insensible but, the sheer idiocy of such a theory and the tragedy was a twisted melody he could appreciate a broken Nen ability connected so deep with the user's aura it was a double edged sword which defied some of the most rigid rules of Nen the last time he saw something like this was with the Nostrad girl it seemed, Chrollo did not dwell on that thought to much he had other matters to attend to with an easy elegance he set the journal book down it's unassuming purple tint a stark contrast to the grim finality of the book.

The December air had its own candour of snowy patterns in the city; city people were never bothered by the snowflake games that could be played, rooms would be lit with firewood, heaters, the warmth seemed ever present even in a city like Yorknew, but he would be leaving the city. Another city would feel the aftereffects of the chaos the Troupe had brought, including ruined auctions and a massacre. Chrollo held out a single piece of what looked like a typical grocery store receipt, almost reverently folded and tucked at the underside of his dark blue coat, before making his way to the location.

Every two days, usually at Tuesdays, Thursdays and occasionally on the Sundays Chrollo stopped by a cultural looking Jazz bar, the melancholic air was fresh like a time capsule but with a bizzare twist it might as well belong well into the 80's or if blended right into the early nostalgic 2000 's, his eyes found the woman with surety, tucked at the furthest corner from the usual dance where patrons moved about their days her dress was elegant, he found himself adding it to a curation that's what it felt like. A dance with a stranger who moved through the world half traveller when he boarded a train, there almost seemed to be like a destination or at least an illusion of one before he was back to being a wanderer. "Good evening, Miss. Have you eaten?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his obsidian eyes finding the woman, her features illuminated under the lights of the jazz bar. It was perfectly polite, just like the stranger was.

"I was just about to" " she answered, her fingers paused on the page, the noise around the cafe, the buzz of the familiar city charm seemed almost laughably irrelevant, Chrollo's smile gentlemanly and utterly maddening at the familiar routine.

They dinned as usual on these days, the handsome stranger would cut out slices of the fishes separating the bones with an almost ritualistic grace before picking it up with his chopsticks to her plate the wine was a familiar but the berries seemed to be grinded just a bit deeper it just was, it was painfully obvious, "Would you like dessert? The Tiramisu I believe is made with a sort of finality to it, the taste changes when one chooses to indulge in it" he explained no more than that. The woman's curiosity was piqued, "How would you know that, Mister?" she asked, taking the offered fish, the spices never overwhelming, which was washed easily down the crimson wine.

"What makes you think I'd be having a late-night coffee craving?" The man chuckled, his voice soft with amusement, how wonderfully he played the role, the woman thought as she took another bite. "You wouldn't want to miss such a delight before we check in", he said, sipping the wine himself.

The tiramisu was exactly how the man guessed it would be; it was perfectly balanced; the cream was fresh like a late-night indulgence slightly skewed towards Chrollo.

It happened as the weeks would pass by, this handsome stranger who seemed to have a ledger of secrets, and a private indulgent library of works, works from fictitious grievances to mock the irony, to Nen diagrams old and new to find the in between lines to create a blend of victory, it was his life.

The young nights dipped across the enclosure. Each inn was a perfect curation by Chrollo, the temperature just cools enough to make each slip of his hand across your skin tingle half with anticipation, and drunkenness which had nothing to do with the earlier wine she had, her eyes would find his, which seemed to hold hers. Those eyes alone had so much to say, but said nothing at once. She could only feel his hands mapping out the frame of her body like an orchestrator who was writing his beloved masterpiece, but just hadn't decided the ending yet. Maybe it could be an ongoing story? He found himself unable to decide.

Each kiss pressed to the pulse over your neck seemed to whisper like a ghost that would follow her, and she would wonder if she'd meet this Stranger again. He spoke about ancient cities like he was the architect of it all, and he just happened to share a few of his musings with her along the way until she stopped by the cafe to find the man in their usual place, engrossed in another book in a language she could not make out.

Her hand would tangle across his strands; they fell between her fingers like ink, impossibly soft. He would look at her as if daring her to meet his lips first, but it had these strings, a musical note he was composing just for these nights.

His tone was almost conversational, picking on the strangest things. The woman found herself leaning in to hear him, "Miss, tell me, is there anything you desire I can bring to you?" he asked, pressing her to the luxurious mattress. The leader of the troupe truly felt like he was unravelling.

It was just one conversation for her when that man, had been watching her for weeks of course he was, the familiar scent of jasmine she carried, moving through her day with this slowness which felt alien to him.

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hunter X Hunter||Chrollo Lucilfer X Reader ||Auction Nights

Suggestive themes hinted, skip if not comfortable.

The rain had been beating down relentlessly against the Yorknew pavements in a never ending drawl, however, even the fresh downpour couldn't wash away the scent of greed and lust which seemed to be the everyday mood of Yorknew now that the auctions were fast approaching rumours spiralled endlessly, civilians hung in thick crowds trying to decipher every line in the daily newspaper as if every line held a code, that could mean the slight difference in life and death. Parents warned their children about monsters lurking around every street corner, the nights grew heavier with more secrets than ever, some people stayed as far as they could, and some wouldn't indulge over them like whiskey on a sad night.

As the nights hung over loosely, maybe the secrets had already been spilt, maybe an assassination attempt, a first one or a second one, it was hard to keep track, or no one really bothered. It was the same story every year on repeat.

Your missions dragged longer, more tenacious as every pebble seemed to echo in the lonely night, the comforting hum of the headphones no longer drowned the noise the world seemed to offer in interest. So, maybe this was the best you had just a small distraction a few moments that's all just till you feel like yourself again, now as you sat hunched over the dimly lit bar, it didnt even have neon lights, the bar seats was usually empty and a soft jazz played not the type people would prefer for escapism but, it somehow drowned the endless orders, the silence a litte at the, counter your legs tucked your heels scruffing the tile now and then.

"It's leaking again...it got all jammed again, the water got ice cold, there was no way to restart it either, and it's like the old landlady just can't bear to see me, despite the mostly rent she is spreading rumours a lot more than usual. I swear if the ceiling dusts on me one more time I might as well pack up and leave."

Chrollo heard your complaints not with a meaningless chatter, or a mindless company, his whiskey sat in front of him like a prop, it almost looked like it belonged to him. It was the kind of stillness Chrollo offered that made you feel heard, and truly, almost studied; he didn't try to fill in the empty silence with comforting words. Still, his presence, magnetic with undertones of danger, offered you the strangest comfort. It was like a fleeting moment of your day, you would vent for an hour or two, telling him the most mundane problems, and there was something about talking to a total stranger who had been with you for no more than a few hours, and you found yourself leaking all your secrets to him.

Then night after night, it was almost like a dream, a ghost of his touch near your collarbones, his lips met your pulse points more than your lips, the lust that should've defined these moments was almost like a sinful Altar that existed for this moment alone, like this was always supposed to happen.

Seconds would turn to minutes by the quiet motel room, the only sounds would be the ruffling of bedsheets as the cool air would kiss your warm body underneath him, time was fickle as these moments every morning like a phantom he would disappear but a single note a poetic verse would be written that reminded you it wasn't a dream.

"It happened all over again, I wonder when you confess all your secrets to me, do you regret it, sweetheart?"

"You shouldn't be reminding me of a book I long forgotten"

It was like with Chrollo, everything was a pre-written verse that had just been waiting to peel open. Time was fickle; once you got tangled with the spider, the walls seemed to really close in on you.

You shouldn't be doing this, but maybe Whiskey would've been the safer choice for you chrollo didn't burn your Throat he made you willingly hand over your journal and thank him for it, his touches on your skin felt like peeling back an old book page by page with the storyline already known and written. You were his, you just didn't know it yet.

A spider shouldn't feel attachment, but now he does, and he weaves the spider's web around you, you just don't know you're a butterfly caught, and Chrollo doesn't let go of beautiful things.