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Why? Pt.1
Hisoka x reader
Angst, hurt, a sprinkle of fluff. Hisoka tells you that he no longer loves you…
Your pov
Why? That’s the question I keep asking myself. Why did he go? What did I do? That night replays in my head like a broken record. It drains me and it makes me ill. He made so many promises to me. Promises I knew he wouldn’t keep, but I thought maybe I’d be different. Maybe I could be the one he could love. I have so much, but got nothing in return. Now he’s gone. Probably off with someone else saying the same things he said to me. Hisoka is a liar and a true heartbreaker. But I truly cannot see myself not loving him. It’s been three months since I’ve seen him or even heard anything from him. But what do I care? He’s the one that left. I can’t keep crying into my pillow at night wishing he was there. He’s never coming back and it’s time to move on. 
Truth is, moving on isn’t as easy as I wanted it to be. I’m currently working at the bakery I’ve worked at for years. Serving customers as I normally would. Putting on my pretty fake smile and voice so that no one can see my raging pain. He “loved” me more than anyone I had ever been with before. He showed me things that I would’ve never seen if it weren’t for him. My chest feels like a open would that will never heal no matter what I try. My boss, Kyo, is starting to notice how I drift off into my own thoughts. She never says anything, but I know she’s worried. She’s always been so caring. Kyo was the first person I went to after Hisoka left. I never told her what happened and she never asked. I appreciate that from her because I wish I didn’t have to constantly remember that night…
Three months ago…
I waited for him like I always did. Hisoka never stayed for more than a week at a time. Always saying he had work to do and how important it was. I never questioned him about it because I understood the importance of my own job.
I suddenly heard the front door open. Sitting up from the couch I greeted him with the same sweet smile I always gave him. Despite his absence, I still loved him. And I always had hope that once his job was done, we could go back to how we were before.
This time was different, he didn’t smile back. In fact he looked at me like I was a total stranger. He stood there with the door still open staring at me not saying a word. It’s was strange and I swear I got a chill down my spine from the intensity. My throat got dry and my anxiety was high. I knew something was wrong, but I never could imagine the words that wold come out of his mouth…
“I have no need for you any longer. You are far too weak for someone like me. You no longer interest me. Look at you. You’re a mess. You look like you’ve aged since I’ve been gone. Thankfully after tonight I will never have to lay a single eye on your pathetic self.” Hisoka said with laced with venom.
I froze. I couldn’t move. All those years of “I love you’s.” All those years of him saying I didn’t need to be strong that my love was strong enough. How beautiful I was to him. How he told me he cared for me. Now, all gone with a single paragraph of hurtful words.
“Why?” I whispered
“Like I said I have no use for you any longer.” Hisoka spoke
My heart shattered with his words. He meant it. He was telling the truth. This was as serious as I’ve ever heard him. My eyes poured and my body felt hot. Hisoka just stood there watching. Staring at my broken figure. Finally, after a few minutes, he turned around and walked out of my life forever…
Back to present…
Back out of my daze I finally noticed a customer staring at me with an uncomfortable expression on their face. I quickly apologized and received their order. As much as I want to move on and know I should. I still cannot get over him. But I will try because that’s all I can do. He’s gone and he’s never coming back. He never loved me, he only used me until he got bored of me. Never again will I allow anyone to treat me with such heartbreak.
But I still ask myself… “Why?”
*Third person pov*
What you didn’t know, was Hisoka was there. He was dressed in average street clothing. His hair was down and his makeup removed to show his rather pale but handsome complexion. He was peaking through the bakery window. Enough to see you, but not enough for you to see him. Watching you with a melancholy expression. He had been coming to that same spot every day since he broke your heart. He broke your heart because he was threatened and he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to fight alone. No one knew the two of you were together, but it was only a matter of time. Hisoka regrets what he did. And if time allows and the threat is gone… he vowed to do everything to win back your heart and fix the shattered pieces. He never understood how you made him love you. All he can think of is your love and your passion and a single word that constantly swims in his mind… “Why?”
Thank you for reading ❤️
Part 1/ Part 2
*I do NOT own any characters except y/n*
Please feel feee to request, comment, and reblog
Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.
-L.W.L
Can you guys imagine the potential of a trauma dump candy salad with the HxH characters like it's the only thing on my mind 😭
Gon: Hey it's Gon and my father left me when I was just a baby so I took up the same field as him so I could understand how he could abandon his newborn son.
Gon: And I brought the jelly beans!
Killua: What's up I'm Killua and since I was young my family trained me to be an assassin and when I finally escaped by stabbing my mother and assaulting my brother I was dragged away from my few moments of freedom by my over-controlling brother who stuck needles in my head.
Killua: And I brought some chocolate robots!
Alluka: It's Alluka! And I was closed off from my family because they feared my abilities/wanted to control me and was continually dehumanized and misgendered by them and for a good portion of my life I was separated from the only person who saw me as a person.
Alluka: And I brought some mentos!
Kurapika: Hello, I'm Kurapika and all my friends and family were slaughtered by a notorious gang who stole their eyes and sold them on the black market, now I'm empty and angry at the same time and will dedicate my life to revenge at the cost of my life.
Kurapika: And I brought sunflower seeds!
Leorio: Heyyy it's Leorio and my motivation to become a doctor comes from the fact that my childhood friend died because of a preventable disease all because he didn't have the money to afford healthcare.
Leorio: And I brought Warheads!
Kite: It's Kite and I met Ging
Everyone: We're so sorry man that's tough (╥﹏╥)
Hisoka: I wasn't invited but I came anyway~
Hisoka: I like kids :)
Everyone: *sideyes*
Hisoka: I brought my restraining order 🥹
Someone wrote this whole thing and I respect them for it-
hisoka cute comic relief moments that make u almost forget he is a psychopathic mass murderer
The Swan.
Yan Feitan x F Reader.
Synopsis: You can’t believe your eyes. He came back for you, or you at least think that is him, from the silhouette of the shadow coming down the stairs.
Warnings: Yandere themes, violence/some gore, kidnapping, a mention or two of Chr*llo, implied body transformation (not on the reader), implied cannibalism, minor character death, and manipulation.
Word Count: 2.6k.
Ten Songs Like This Piece:
Psycho by Mia Rodriguez
Enjoy the Silence - 2006 Remaster by Depeche Mode
First Love/Late Spring by Mitski
Twisted by MISSIO
Oblivion by Grimes
Chasing It Down by Mother Mother
Killshot by Magdalena Bay
Bernadette by IAMX
Bad Things by Cults
Mastermind by Mindless Self Indulgence
“The healthy man does not torture others.” – Carl Jung
*~*~*~*
The machete in your hands, underneath the cold running water of the sink’s faucet, looked like an amalgamation of silver coins or chains glued together and attached to a metal pole. You would have thought as much too, if the man looking over your shoulder was not there, if your glasses hadn't been shattered on the ground by his boot. He would make you clean the mess up later most likely, with a dustpan and broom you could hardly see regardless of whether it was night or day. He always made you clean up around here in some way, this moment you somewhat expected because of that, but you hadn’t because there was blood on it.
Even though it was so dark, because it was nighttime and your captor hadn’t bothered buying any sort of lamp or another possible source of light, you could still clearly see the crimson combining with the clear water and soon fading away into the drain. He made you touch it too, so you could clean it properly.
The blood was so much stickier and thicker than the water, so much warmer, with a smell that lingered in the air, and little droplets of it clinging to the very walls of the sink, desperate to not dissolve.
Feitan didn’t kill whatever poor unfortunate soul was locked in the basement in front of you. You suppose that was somewhat a mercy on his part. But the blood on the machete was still fresh and not dried up, as was the blood on his jacket. The sight of him coming up the stairs, the large blade behind him thumping with every step and staining the rotting wood, is a sight you will never forget.
“Make sure it is fully clean.”
The way he spoke made you jump a bit, leaving something akin to a snicker leaving his covered mouth. He never talked really to you, only communicating with a hmph here and a swift pull of your ear there. If you were disobedient he would usually break a finger or slam your head against the wall until there were bruises all over your face. Him breaking your glasses, though, was something that you did not expect. Perhaps you were sort of asking for it because no successful escape results from trying to poison a captor with a lethal amount of sedatives when it was clear the captor in question was beyond anything human.
The mug of watery black coffee was still in the back of the so-called kitchen, cracked open from Feitan throwing it onto the table in a fit of absolute rage.
Maybe you should have thought first as to whether or not he would have noticed that his medical cabinet was broken into because you didn’t lock it back up.
He hurled insults at you, deeming you foolish, before striding towards you with haste.
In a swift motion, he snatched your spectacles from your face and forcefully discarded them onto the ground. He then proceeded to ruthlessly trample upon them. In countless ways, you were his complete antithesis. Spontaneous, driven by emotions... utterly vulnerable. On most days, you obediently abide by instructions, rarely daring to challenge them. Or, at least, you have learned not to, the lesson of absolute submission was drilled into you faster than any hammer or screwdriver would.
You inquire with a tone of utmost innocence, or at least with the greatest semblance of innocence that you can summon.
You still hold onto hope that Robert will come back for you, with police or weapons or at least a concrete escape plan. Even if Feitan’s movements and behavior were far from any ordinary human, surely a bullet to the head would still be enough to kill him or be enough to restrain him.
It's hard to decide which is more disheartening: the ceaseless anticipation and longing for even the slightest indication of Robert's return to save you, despite the passing months, or Feitan's relentless assurance that nobody will come to your aid.
There is still a cuff on your ankle, a reminder of the chain in the basement from many moons ago. It took a lot of work, but you finally got out of there after earning yourself a stool to sit on, warm microwaved dinners instead of frozen ones, and once even a book. Stephen King's Misery, the irony not lost to you, the pages slightly wet when it was first given to you, as well as the signature on the front of the cover.
Anastasia Tayegg, it said, though the ink was bleeding out and making the white as snow page a burnt silver. The book, the air, everything, is thick with the stench of decay and sewage, it lingers in your nose and clings to your throat. The foul odor is acrid, sharp, and overpowering, overwhelming all other senses. It creates a thick atmosphere in the air, something that is almost tangible in its potency. It is a sickening smell that clings to the nostrils and coats the throat in a foul film. The smell is rancid and vile, something that causes an instant reaction of disgust and revulsion.
*~*~*~*
It is dark and dingy, with only the faintest gleam of light that seeps in through the tiny little cracks of the shattered glass lantern attached to the ceiling. The walls are thick and damp, and the stone that composes them is cold and damp to the touch. The room is filled with a musty scent of mold and rot, a combination of dampness and decay. The air is stagnant and the place feels very claustrophobic. The air seems to shimmer from the moisture that hands in it and it seems like a very quiet and very dead place.
At least it would have been very quiet and very dead, if not for the rotting corpses in the chairs, the blood that stained the walls and floor, and your quickened, panicked breaths, cries, and talks you have with yourself. The talks are about anything; your former life, Robert, water… you would talk about anything if it meant you weren’t alone with your thoughts and your mind.
The once shiny links of the chains on your wrists have now lost their brilliance and luster and are coated with a thick layer of rust which has seeped through between the metal links, causing them to grow stiff and rigid. They no longer move freely across the flesh that holds them captive, and they dig into the flesh, causing the pain to radiate deep into the body. The chains are heavy and the rust acts like sandpaper and chafes at your wrists.
Your hands have been bound and have been trapped for what feels like ages and the skin around the wrists has turned red and inflamed. The air is damp and heavy, a thick layer of stagnant moisture that has settled around you; your throat is dry, and your stomach is hollow. You haven’t had anything to eat or drink in what feels like forever. You are alone and in pain, your hands bound and the cold metal cuffs digging into your wrists, and you can’t do anything but stare blankly into the dark around you and just hope and pray that Robert will come back for you.
As you stare blankly into the dark, a single tear slides down your cheek. You can’t help but let the fear and desperation flow through you. With every passing second, you grow more and more afraid for yourself and for Robert, desperately wishing he would come back for you.
As the moments stretch to hours, you begin to fret over the idea that something may have happened to Robert, desperately praying that he returns, and soon. He is the only thing keeping your spirits alive and the reason for you to keep going. It is hard to stay hopeful, but you don’t give up on Robert, his strength and bravery are what keep you going. Despite your leg being infected and all the pain you are going through, you are praying and hoping he returns and comes to save you.
You know that he will do anything and everything he can to get you out of this place, out of this hell.
You trust him, you know that he can and will do it. You just need to hold on a little while longer, just a little bit more patience, and he will come for you. The only reason he didn’t bring you with him is just because of your leg, right?
You hear someone coming down the stairs, slowly, growing louder with each step. They seem impossibly loud and echoey in the cold damp air, and the rustling sound of clothing scraping along the walls seems to amplify the sound tenfold.
It seems like the footsteps are taking forever, and that they are just getting louder and closer, as if whoever or whatever is coming is dragging their feet with every step, making it that much more intense. But you know who is coming down, the only one you ever see alive anymore, down here, in the dark. You are not scared of being alone, not anymore, you are scared of having unwanted company.
The man who locked you and Robert down here, after you two begged him for shelter from the rain, without even really using his strength.
The man has a face reminiscent of a demon’s. His wide grin is filled with malice and cruelty, with sharp teeth that seem more like fangs. His narrow eyes are cold and predatory, always analyzing and always scanning his surroundings, you most of all, for your horrified facial expressions. He moves with a natural grace and an easy, casual manner, but under that exterior is a terrifying presence and a ruthless personality that is not afraid to kill or hurt someone without a second’s hesitation. The cuts and bruises all over your body are concrete proof of the latter.
“Perhaps there is still some use for you.” He steps closer, on the cracks of the floor below. “I don’t mind having an assistant.”
*~*~*~*
Ever since Feitan claimed you as his “assistant,” he imparted numerous teachings upon you. Among them, you discovered that the human body possesses an astonishing resilience, enduring unimaginable pain without succumbing to death. Even those who are deprived of limbs, eyes, and tongues persist, their existence marked by incessant torment, their pleas for respite falling on deaf ears. Regrettably, mercy is simply not within his repertoire. But something you have learned more than anything is that Feitan has made you a murderer.
Sometimes you were the one that did the finishing blow, with blood-soaked, shivering hands. Feitan seemed happy then, patting you on the head as a reward for a job well done. An act of fondness. Sometimes you told yourself it was for the better good, because to disobey Feitan meant a fate akin to a death sentence. Sometimes you told yourself that you had no choice and that your body may as well be a puppet on a string.
Both things you told yourself were bad enough and simply brought worse things in you. You are just like him at the end of it all.
You almost like killing them. You almost like killing them because for the first time in months or years or however long you have been held captive in that basement, you feel the presence of power.
You are both repulsed by the reality of it and also thrilled by the sense of control it gives you. The feeling of power and control is intoxicating, an adrenaline rush that you never expected, and yet it seems to call to you all the same. It is a thrill to you like you have never known, akin to nothing you have ever experienced before. It is a twisted sense of pleasure and satisfaction you get by taking the life of someone else, and yet you cannot help but feel guilt for that same pleasure.
What would Robert think?
…
The dinner table is set up with the most care you think Feitan could ever show to an inanimate object that was not his knives or swords. Not that it was ever used in the first place, as you usually ate alone in your bare-bones room, the only place where you sometimes had any privacy. There were a few napkins and a water bottle in front of you, with Feitan’s side having the same. The difference was while you had plastic utensils, your captor had real, metal ones. If you didn’t know better by now, you would have been tempted to take his knife and stab it into his jugular. But you do know better now, so you don’t try to do such a foolish thing anymore. You would not get far anyway. In the end, maybe you would be the one who gets hurt. That is what usually happens anyway, whenever you act out of line.
“Well? Does it look okay?” Feitan asks, his eyes gesturing towards something in the center of the table, something that looks like a larger rotisserie chicken in a bed of plastic and aluminum foil. Steam comes out of it along with the smell of cooked poultry. You wonder where Feitan got it from because he certainly does not know how to cook if the microwave dinners and chips you are always given mean anything. Not that you would say anything about it. You would rather not get on your captor’s bad side, his temper was already as explosive as it was. You were just happy to finally be eating something new for once.
“Yeah.”
“Which part do you want?” At his seemingly normal question, you point to the breast. You always liked that type of meat over thighs and drumsticks because they have much less fat. Much more delicious, in your opinion. “Hmm. Why?”
Of course, you have to explain yourself. There is never a moment when you don’t have to. Whether that would be what your favorite vegetable is to why you dislike bugs. He once put a centipede on your forehead as you slept and you screamed as loud as the people Feitan tortured in the cellar.
“Less fat and less likely to fall apart completely.”
Seemingly pleased with your answer, he grabs his knife and starts cutting, soon placing a large piece on your paper plate. He hated doing dishes, and so you always were forced to do them. As much as Feitan loves getting his hands dirty with organs and blood, soaked bread crumbs were too much for him. You kind of found it funny. Not that you would ever tell him, you don’t want to be hit in the head and called stupid again.
“Enjoy your food.” It sounded sort of like a threat, like an order to enjoy this moment as much as you can. You would prefer anything to microwaved pudding mixed with dethawed that was reminiscent of a forbidden fifth state of matter, more unholy than plasma.
So, you do.
“How is it?” Feitan is simply poking at his plate, it was ironic since whenever you refused to eat he called you ungrateful and threw you in the basement for an hour or two.
“Good.” You don’t know if his smile widening was a good or bad thing.
“I got it from a friend.”
“That’s… nice.”
“He helped me hunt him down himself.”
He?
You accidentally drop your fork onto the floor, the sound making you jump slightly. You bend down to pick it up, as you do not want Feitan to throw your plate out for making a mess again.
…It is best not to think about it too much.
Yo have you herd the news, there’s been actually proof that hunter x hunter may be coming back and it looks legit 😄🥳🥰
Yes! I did hear and I'm very excited! Not gonna get my hopes up that it'll be any time soon since creating manga is time consuming as hell, but hopefully it'll come out before the time I'm 50😂
I'm hoping to see more of Hanzo, if he dies istg I will throw my drink at the nearest person. He's my favorite character and I don't wanna see Hanzo my husbando die.😅
While I love the manga and we get to see more of the characters, I would still like to see the succession arc in anime format since it just looks so nice and I want to hear Hanzo's voice more😂
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
╭ ┈ 🩸🩹 ⺌ ʬʬ. 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞!! %% ___ ! ! ╮
hello kurapika fans
hello kurapika fans
happy september 1st to the best hxh arc !!!!
Happy Yorknew day my fellow hunters!
Enjoy a iPhone wallpaper I made 😊
(Feel free to use it, I’d be flattered😳)
Oh! A playful Alluka has appeared!
Here’s my drawing for the Alluka expression game being hosted by the @hxhbigbang24 team! This was super fun to draw and I’m really happy with how it turned out. 😁
Speed paint below the cut👇
Happy b-day to my fav boi!
Let’s be real, the best present he could receive is a solid 8 hours of sleep and inner peace. He deserves it 🥺
Now this is a VOGUE issue I’d purchase 👀
Here’s my piece for @hxhbigbang24’s outfit swap meme featuring Kurapika! He’s wearing one of Killua’s 1999 outfits (the og fit is under the cut).
Here’s the original outfit:
So, who wants to raid the Zoldyck closets with me? 👉👈
I swear no one in that family has a bad outfit.
I decided to become a human printer 😂😭
And no I did not trace these in case anyone was curious 👀
oh how I’ve missed you- Uvogin Oneshot
——-
Short smut fanfic!
——-
It’s been exactly 3 weeks 2 days and 6 hours since youd last since Uvogin. But who’s counting? You definitely were. You’re aware of the life he leads, facing hunters and being a wanted criminal, but it never stopped you from missing him when he was away for so so long. The way he laughed so loud and boastfully as he threw his head back. Or how he’d bring you close to him and cuddle with you whenever he felt like it. It was feeling like an eternity without him.
You cuddle up into the pillows, his pillow, smelling it longing for him. Longing for his intamacy, and smell once again. Eventually your thoughts get dirtier and dirtier about him.. Taking off your shorts and underwear swiftly, you spit on your fingers and rub that swollen clit to the thought of Uvo and how good he feels whenever your with him.
Feeling so horny you began to hump his pillow just to feel something close to him...
“Mhm I miss you so much uvogin.” You moan with tears in your eyes as you continue riding and touching yourself.
“Well is that so?” A voice calls out. Your eyes dart to the figure in the doorframe, one you hadn’t even known was there. Frantically you bolt off the pillow and cover up with a blanket.
“Uvo! Your home” you say shyly.
“Well don’t stop just for me. Don’t be shy now.” He grins menacingly. “Say, you should ride my face just like that. Matter of fact you’re going to.”
Uvogin swiftly comes to the bed picking you up with ease and placing you on his face. “You know y/n it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, and I’m really, really hungry.”
“Uvo! D-don’t talk with your mouth full!” You retort as a tease. He’d make you eat those words, and cry out for him just as you did earlier.
his tongue lapped quickly at your folds, with such haste as you bounced on his face trying to escape. It was no use as his hands held you down with ease. “Uvo!” You cry out from the pleasure. “Mhmm.”
He groans into your warmth, sending a vibration throughout your body. The final straw to make you orgasm.
Uvogun feels your body go a bit limp from the pleasure, gently setting you down on the bed. “We’re not done just yet baby.” “Mhm.” You say with tears in your eyes. He spreads your legs, slightly kneeling on them to postion himself perfectly.
The giant man rubs up and down your wet cunt wanting you to beg for it. “I can’t take anymore Uvo! I need your cock inside me already.” Finally he hears the words he loves.
“My pleasure Y/n”
Dipping himself into you slowly, trying his best not to hurt you while he bottoms out. Only being able to take about 7 inches still made you feel so full.
“That’s my good girl.” He leans down to whisper into your ears as he pulls all the way out. Suddenly feeling empty you cry out. “Uv-“
Uvogin slams himself back into you beginning to stroke your wet cunt. He can’t help but relish in the fact that your a teary eyed mess full with his cock. “Who do you belong to Y/N” “Y-You uvo! I’m all yours.” Uvogin couldn’t help but ask again. “Who’s my little cock slut?”
“I-I am!” You cry back in response as a fuzzy feeling grows in your stomach. “You’re such a good girl, so wet and tight all for me.”
He practically howled still slamming into you with such speed. “Uvo I’m close!” You call out to him, feeling your orgasm arise. His fingers get quick to rubbing your swollen wet clit to speed up the process.
“Cum for me.” He whispers into your ear. “Uvogin~”
Hearing his full name called out as you clenched around him made him crack, releasing his warm cum into your pussy. “Mhm~” coming down from your high, little whimpers and Mewls escape your lips.. You can’t help but smile with pleasure and anticipation. It was going to be a LONG night.
He wanted to absolutely destroy you, break you into pieces shattering under him. Tonight, was the first night it a while he had you all to himself, staking his claim into your pussy once more. Putting your legs over his shoulders and positioning himself into you, he whispered once more.
“Oh how I’ve missed you.”