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#shalnark
marosii · 3 days
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Discord shenanigans culminating in the headcanon that Uvo uses speech to text like a boomer and shalnark takes over when he gets upset
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hypnoswrites · 7 months
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Bad Taste
A commission I was allowed to post! I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you all enjoy reading it :D
WARNINGS: Yandere! Chrollo, PT member! reader, female! reader, explicit nsfw, casual sex, mentions of explicit violence, mentions of murder, mentions of character death, reader is kinda immoral but that comes with the pt territory, dubious consent
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"You have bad taste, you know that?" You said, lying on your side, tired eyes slowly moving over every choice that had gone into the design of the bedroom. At first glance, you would've called the excess of gold and silver gaudy, but then there was that minimalist abstract painting in the corner, or the classical bedside table made out of gray marble, and you decided even that descriptor wasn't fully applicable. The maximalism of a rich hoarder, was the only term that felt somewhat correct. "None of these pieces work together."
Chrollo smiled as he looked up from his book, participating in your critique of his interior design skills. "I'd call it the curse of having many interests. If you ask me, committing to a single style or type of art when there is so much variety in the world is as much a sign of bad taste as you consider this to be."
"The art nouveau brutalist bathroom is an abomination, Chrollo."
"Or so you continue to remind me. Would you rather I hang the Klimt with the byzantine sculptures?"
"No. I'd rather you throw those away. Or sell them." You sat upright and pulled the sheets off your body, sitting on the edge of the bed so you could stretch properly, your fingers tapping against the side of the mattress while you thought of what you were going to do next. Shower or get dressed and leave?. "Such a waste letting them get water damage."
"Stop suggesting we have sex in the bathtub then."
"No." Something about the clumsiness of sex in bathrooms had always appealed to you, and if you liked seeing Chrollo with his hair wet while he was bent over you, who’d judge you? "I don't think I will."
"I figured."
You stretched your arms over your head, feeling a delightful pull on your sore muscles. You’d slept badly, you always slept too lightly when other people were around, but the calm and laziness of the morning made the slight exhaustion lingering on your body feel less bothersome. There was nothing on the agenda today, so you could truly just go your own way. Perhaps you’d train a bit later in the evening, or visit a botanical garden if the weather was nice. Visiting gardens was always your go-to activity on lazy days, since you always felt truly at ease feeling your nen curl around so many different specimens, all responding to your commands. Controlling flora was a tricky ability, especially in less habitable areas like the dusty deserts surrounding Yorknew, so to be in a location where nothing would ever be able to truly harm you was comforting. You didn’t know whether that comfort came from the security or the control. 
At the thought of your ability, you wondered when you’d use it next. The last time had ended a bit anticlimactically. You’d wrapped nettles around a man’s throat, only for him to suffocate and die in mere minutes, apparently allergic to the plant. You’d gotten in a bit of trouble, since he’d been meant to give information, but luckily his colleague knew enough to save your hide. When you’d started to master your own ability, you’d never considered allergies being relevant so often. 
You lowered your arms and rolled your shoulders, looking back at Chrollo who was smiling ever so slightly. “So when’s the next heist? Or are you leaving to find new members first?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You are under the impression that killing Hisoka has no priority?”
Ah. You should’ve figured.
“Didn’t want to assume. Aren’t you supposed to be quite strict with the ‘no leg matters, just the spider’ philosophy?” You suppressed a smile at the mention of Hisoka, knowing any sign of affection, as small as it was, wouldn’t be appreciated. You didn’t particularly care about Shalnark and Kortopi, only having worked with them in passing for a few years, so it wasn’t like you felt betrayed by the magicians actions. If anything, you’d found Chrollo’s continual leniency on the magician’s schemes to be surprising, and retrospectively quite an obvious mistake. “Well. With eight or so members it’ll surely work out fine.” 
It would. You’d only seen a handful of them in combat, but if they managed to corner Hisoka, he was dead, an opinion that was supported by the fact that Hisoka was already supposed to be dead, having lost to Chrollo in the arena. 
You’d watched the show on television, a bit disappointed when it had stopped being broadcast due to the deaths of most of the camera staff. Either that, or the producers had chosen not to show such a massacre, as exciting as it had been. Even with gyo constantly activated, you had barely been able to keep up with the quick movements and techniques displayed, which had definitely increased your respect for Chrollo, the trust and belief the rest of the spider had in him definitely not unfounded.
You’d asked Hisoka in private shortly after his quasi-death and expulsion of the spider how he intended to fight them all off, certainly in close quarters, but he’d just kept it vague and acted indignified at your lack of belief in his capabilities. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe him to be capable of somehow pulling off something most would deem impossible, but rather that you really wished to know how he was planning to do so. A mystery is only as compelling as the explanation that is served, and you were left only with curiosity and impatience. 
Still, you’d decided a while ago that you would bet on Hisoka. The odds were high that he intended to kill you along with the rest of the spiders if he ever got the chance, but you doubted he’d chase after you if you made yourself scarce before anything big could happen. The parts of the plan he’d clued you in on were compelling enough to bet on, since even if Hisoka failed miserably, you still had enough time to work out a second plan of your own. 
"Just to sate my curiosity on the matter." Chrollo asked, looking over the edge of his book as you grabbed a short satin dress you’d worn yesterday night that had been discarded next to the bed. Pulling it over your head, you were relieved to not fully be naked anymore, not out of a sense of decency or prudishness, but because Chrollo’s stare tended to be a bit too appreciative for your liking. "Are you two close?"
You didn’t need to ask for clarification.
Truly, you liked Hisoka. He was an interesting figure and so upfront with his betrayals that you wondered how he still managed to fool anyone into trusting him. His style, his humor, his fighting style. It was all so uniquely him and yet at the same time so inhumanly distant that you had trouble seeing him as an actual person. Instead, he felt more like a character you could enjoy watching, and you would be lying if it hadn’t flattered you that he’d enjoyed watching you too. 
"We're not intimate, if that's what you're asking." This was edging a bit too close to a discussion on your relationship with him for your liking. Chrollo, ever the achiever, didn't bore you with such things usually. Instead, he'd either lure you into some quasi-intellectual debate or just leave you be. Your favorite ending to one of these meetings had been when he'd expressed interest in some blockbuster that was airing, and you'd surprised yourself into inviting him to come and watch it with you. The movie theater experience, complete with popcorn and a soda, had been fun in a domestic way you'd not experienced in a while. Ranting about the bad quality of the film was also a fond memory, though you were not the type to grow attached to domestic activities. "Didn't think you were the jealous type."
"I wouldn't call it jealousy." He said earnestly, chuckling when he saw the disbelieving tilt of your head. "If anything, I'm trying to see whether you've betrayed the spider too."
You forced your eyebrows to lift in surprise. "Oh. I'd never. How little faith do you have in me?"
Whatever playful tone you’d placed in your words, it seemed to be the wrong choice, as you were pulled back into bed by your hair. The casual atmosphere had ended, and the pretense of this just being a chat was broken. His fingers curled around locks of your hair, pulling at your scalp, and the book was discarded somewhere on the bed. 
You let it happen, finding the sting of his grip on your hair more comfortable than this conversation, especially since it ended up with your barely covered upper body sprawled over his lap. He looked down at you, and if he spotted your gratitude at this turn of events, he did not show it. Instead, he actually seemed angry, his entire face frozen on a blank slate. If he could not even find the state of mind to force a neutral expression, you’d definitely crossed a line. 
Luckily, he acknowledged his own anger too, which saved you from having to navigate what exactly he was taking offense to. 
"You've chosen a bit of an unfortunate moment to joke with me. Safe to say, I wouldn't call myself completely stable at the moment." It was at times like this that you truly appreciated his features, his face and body made to be cast in marble. Bloodlust only enhanced the image, washing off the false domestic and normal air that he clothed himself in to blend in. "It'll pass, but for now I'd urge you to give me a serious response."
That made sense in retrospect. Last night he’d been quite a bit more rough than he usually was. His hand had found your throat on many occasions, and while you did not mind being manhandled a bit, the force with which he sucked hickeys into your neck and the pressure of his arms around your waist had proven a bit intense at times. You’d just explained it away as a mood, but this made quite a bit more sense. 
"How about this, I’ll give you a quick rundown of everything I know: I haven't spoken with him ever since that entire mess with Shal and Kortopi," His hand tightened around your hair, and you figured he didn’t like you minimizing the events that had occurred, but to be fair, he would’ve been more suspicious had you acted all respectful to his dead friends. "But he did tell me something beforehand which I think you might find interesting."
His expression did not change, but Chrollo did seem a bit irritated that you were playing coy. "Well?"
"The boat led by the Kakin Empire heading towards the dark continent. Apparently there will be some kind of contest held on board during the trip, and Hisoka seemed quite interested in it. If I had to guess, he's going to be there, trying his best to make the entire affair about twenty percent more complicated." 
If you felt any regret having spoken those words, you didn’t feel it yet, though you kept the possibility open that you’d feel a bit bad about it later. If only, if only.
The seed had been planted. Chrollo probably had an inkling that you telling him this was intended by Hisoka, but that didn’t really matter. Hisoka wanted a fight, so it’d be out of character for him to suggest a fighting stage and not show up. The spiders would crawl on board, head toward the dark continent, a place so dangerous every expedition you’d heard of had stellar mortality rates, and hopefully they’d never return. 
On the day of the departure, you’d stay behind. You liked excitement and part of you wanted to explore the dark continent and its mysteries as much as any other, but it’d be certain death for you if you went. There were too many things left to experience on this planet, and dying at the hands of either Chrollo or Hisoka left a bad taste in your mouth. 
They were both dear to you, but you really hoped they’d kill each other and sink the boat. 
"A hobby you two seem to share."
"As if you don't." You lightly admonished, smiling as his fingers were still pulling at strands of your hair, his eyes murderously intense as he stared down at you. "Well, are you going to kill me or am I free to go?"
"You seem to be misunderstanding something." He grabbed your face and made you face the wall, a multitude of painted faces in varying degrees of realism staring back at you. "Whatever I don't get rid of, I collect. And since I am quite fond of you, even if I deem your betrayal to go too far, I won't kill you. Instead, I'll pin you to these walls like those paintings you seem to hate so much and enjoy the sight of you until I feel ready to throw you away. Act with that in mind."
You suppressed a sigh and realized you'd been right in your assessment of where this was headed. A shame, even if it was way too late for you to take back your countermeasures anyway.  "Chrollo, do you hear yourself speak right now?"
"I do. I know what I sound like." He sighed and let go of your face. When you slowly remade eye contact with him, he was looking quite pensive before he bent forward, closing the gap between you and him. For a second you hoped that he'd kiss you, just to cut this conversation short. You knew what was at the end of that road, while this was inching further and further into uncomfortable territory. “Don’t act like this is coming out of nowhere. I think you’re quite aware of the effect you have on me. I myself find it quite interesting at times, and in all honesty, it would be much easier to see exactly what you’re made of if I keep you a bit incapacitated.”
"That sounds quite scary." You said, less sarcastically than you'd intended, the sincerity of his words sending a shiver down your spine. The slight quirk of his lips, the complete nonchalance with which he'd admitted to his plans for you if you betrayed him, all made you believe that he was not kidding in the slightest. You'd always known it was a bit risky sleeping with the head of the spiders, but that danger had been part of the enjoyment. What fun was there in hooking up if there wasn't a risk of death involved? "I wasn't aware you felt about me like that."
"You have your moments."
"I see."
Being proven right was a bitter victory in this case, as much as you wanted to pretend it didn’t bother you in the slightest. You and Chrollo had spent many a night like this, and a few months ago, you had been quite pleased with the set-up, your post-heist adrenaline and bloodlust always being channeled in the best way possible, but in that same period you’d felt something start to change. 
During heists he rarely deployed you, something that was even beginning to be noticed even by other spiders. Your abilities were being questioned, and you’d even heard that little black-haired shit wonder whether you always slept your way to the top. Three members had to remind you of the rule not to fight other spiders, because otherwise you would’ve gouged out his eyeballs and thrown his guts to the dogs.
It was insulting, and the mere idea that Chrollo was in love with you was even worse.
It made you uncomfortable to see a man you had so much respect for debase himself in chasing you. He never did anything outwardly romantic, but he stared, and you could tell that any time you spent with him was intriguing him. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. He was supposed to be better than that. You couldn’t stand it when he sighed after kissing you or left books on the dinner table for you to take when you left. 
He couldn’t betray the spider, not in such an awfully human way. 
And so you’d decided one morning while waking up in his arms, his heartbeat thumping underneath your ear, that you’d prefer it if he died. Death would freeze the image you had of him, of the ruthless and constantly shifting leader of the Phantom Troupe. Death would freeze all of them, since after Uvogin and Pakunoda’s deaths you’d noticed more and more cracks in what used to be a perfect formula. 
Feitan and Phinks, who used to go off on their own in between heists, now seemed bound to the hip, their cruelty and ruthlessness a mere façade for what even a blind person could see. Franklin called Shizuku every few hours, checking in on her location and how she was doing. Nobunaga had completely lost it, even if everyone pretended to not see it, and you weren’t someone who generally empathized with unknown faces, but the civilian woman he’d fixated on after the death of Uvo was clearly having to deal with a lot of delusional bullshit.
The changes spread gradually, but the spider was not what it used to be. Most of the members had grown up together and preferred not losing one another, the recent deaths of those close to them proving they were not as okay with being replaceable as they’d pretended to be all this time. None of them would ever utter such a thing, but you noticed it regardless. 
Being annihilated on the way to the dark continent, or at their destination, would be the best way for the spider. All in order to hold onto its principles. In some way, you felt like you were saving the man whose death you were planning, whose body had been pressed against yours so often. You’d never been the sentimental type, but the idea that you were saving a legacy from dying out painfully was beautiful to you. Chrollo wouldn’t ruin himself in your name. The others wouldn’t slip away into insanity and sentimentality. 
Hisoka was the only one who knew how you felt, and had even agreed with your views, meaning he was the sole ally you had in this perspective. You’d spent years with the Troupe, and in some distant way, you loved the spider. Vaguely, you realized you’d accept it if Chrollo killed you now. Maybe he’d prove you wrong. Maybe he would get rid of your traitorous self, kill Hisoka and purge the spider of all that had desecrated it. 
You would accept it gratefully. 
Chrollo let go of your hair and his thumb traced a line across your forehead. 
“Fine.” He breathed out. 
“We’re leaving it at that?” You asked, cursing yourself for even responding, and even more for the desperation you felt at the loss of his aggression. Chrollo immediately moved, languidly shifting your body and his so you were below him once more, your legs on either side of his hips. He pushed his hair back and rubbed his eyes a bit before taking another good look at you. You couldn’t decipher his expression fully, but decided a mix of exhaustion and exasperation came closest.  
“We’re not.” A hand moved under your waist and lifted up your lower body, slotting you against him. He bent forward over you and out of the corner of your eyes you saw him slowly wrap a hand around his cock and pump himself a few times. When he was sufficiently hard, he moved the hand with which he’d touched himself up to your mouth, two fingers patiently waiting on your lips to be licked. Knowing this song and dance, you opened your mouth, your tongue searching and finding his fingers instantly. Whilst you were sufficiently coating his fingers in spit, his dark eyes moved over your body. “We’ll be done once I say we’re done.”
The authoritative comment did little to turn you on, his possessive and romantically laced comments from earlier still making you feel weird. Still, when he pulled his fingers from your mouth and lowered them to your pussy to lubricate your entrance, the few flicks he performed against your clit did make your chest rise from the mattress a bit. 
Pressing his forehead to yours, he quickly grabbed his cock and pushed it inside you, a satisfied sound leaving his throat as he successfully entered you. The pace he set was slow, gentle in a way that made you want to cry.
“Don’t betray me.” He said, and you felt your stomach turn at the pleading tone accompanying it. It was hard to enjoy the way he rolled his hips against yours, pushing his cock further into you, when your mind was miles away. How could you be present when all you wanted was to leave and forget he’d ever disappointed you like this. “I’ll do much worse than kill you if you do.”
That wasn’t a lie. He’d probably lock you up, steal your ability and hurt you until you didn’t have the strength to fight him anymore. Maybe he’d cut your legs off, maybe he’d bind you to a bed until malnutrition and muscle decay did the work for him. That part didn’t scare you, it was what he’d do after that that terrified you. He’d keep you with him, sleep next to you, and trace your injuries. He’d insist you read with him, watch movies with him, make love to him instead of the distant sex you preferred. He’d love you, earnestly and in his own way, and you’d rather die than experience it, since it would mean the man you loved was utterly gone.
“You know, don’t you?” He asked. “Please tell me you know.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, desperate for him to shut up.
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bwabys-scenarios · 8 months
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Imagine being the sweetheart of the Phantom Troupe. They all just ADORE you!!
You were recruited by Chrollo to be a physician after he sees you caring for the meteor city kids out of the kindness of your heart.
Most of your earnings go towards housing and clothing meteor kids. When you’re not on a mission you’re rolling up your sleeves and doing the work to better the community. Chrollo LOVES that.
You have such a caring heart. Feitan is your target for affection 9/10 because he’s such a grumpy puss.
First time you pat his head the others think you’re gonna die 😭🙏 Phinks is literally like “and there goes another cute girl”
but no he just pushes your hand away and runs off!!
the look of shock on everyone’s faces 😭😭🙏
For the first few months Feitan is absolutely SPRINTING away when he sees you. Makes you a lil sad, so he gets scolded by shalnarks and Phinks a lot :(
One day Phinks sits next to him after a job, watching you doctor up Uvogin with your cute Sanrio themed bandaids.
“Why the hell do you keep running away from her, she’s the only person that has even tried being nice to you, outside of the troupe.”
Feitan starts to run again but Phinks stops him.
“That’s problem. Too nice. Don’t understand.”
Feitan can be seen staring at you from behind corners and in shadows, and more often than not if you’re on a mission he’s close behind.
“Feitan, you don’t have to hide, come here so I can fix you up.”
He just stares at you from the doorway, suspicious but also hesitant, not because he’s scared of you but because… he hurt his chest and he KNOWS how your nen works.
Eventually he decides to enter, sitting in front of you as you check him over. Once you’ve assessed him, you pull up his shirt.
“Okay, this is gonna need a level two. Close your eyes if you need to!”
You lean forward and place a kiss on the gash, and it immediately starts to heal. You pull away and for the first time you’re able to really see his face, and he is BLUSHING!!
When he noticed you saw he is fucking GONE!!
Shalnark is your most frequent patient, always having injuries in… suspicious places. One day he walks in with a pretty bad cut on his lips.
“(Name)~ I need a kiss~”
You roll your eyes and place a finger to his lips, the cut slowly mending itself. “You’ll have to try harder than that, sweetheart. But…”
You place the finger that touched his lips on yours. “Good try.”
He swoons!!!
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tinfairies · 5 months
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Getting passed around by the phantom troupe like a blunt on rotation is the fucking dream.
Dripping cum from every hole, covered in cum, overstimulated, crying, begging. Just all of it.
Some are so so sweet and others are mean and treat you like a whore
The aftercare is fucking phenomenal though
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snow-bees · 6 months
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Yorknew city living (shitpost)
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tiucotheus · 1 year
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SORRY FOR THE REUPLOAD SPAM, this is a lot of work ok!  Anyway, another silly set! Enjoy! 
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nokomento · 1 year
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Here are some more brush tests
some more Spiders
My pet peeve is the 2011 remake changed their colors yellllllll
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paladinights · 1 year
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Phantom Troupe | HUNTERXHUNTER Special Nen PV
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dyingroses · 7 months
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Hunter x Hunter + text posts and stuff
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shrimpoe · 2 months
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old hxh art dump :p ('22-'23)
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strangemonochromes · 1 month
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Hunter x Hunter // Yoshihiro Togashi
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shalscumbunny · 4 months
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THIS IS SO SHALNARK
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hypnoswrites · 9 months
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Quality Time
A gift fic for @depravitycentral ! It’s a soulmate Shalnark fic :DDD Apologies for the delay, I always underestimate the time needed to complete fics lol. also death to my internet provider for causing a blackout right when i wanted to post
edit: lee has been a gift to the world and made an uvo fic!!!!! read it here!!!
WARNINGS: yandere shalnark, nsfw, non-con, female reader, emotional and physical abuse, imprisonment, soulmate au, fear of death, mention of hypothetical car crash, delusion, 6k words
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Standing in front of all the different kinds of tea, you used your finger to keep track of which row you'd already scanned, the search for your favorite brand a little bit tricky. The fluorescent lighting in the store was flickering, and even if it hadn't been so badly lit, you still would've had trouble. Too many kinds, and your eyesight was severely limited by the plastic mere inches from your eyes.
Another flavor wouldn’t do, your favorite having a very nostalgic and calming effect on you. One cup and you’d be sleeping peacefully within the hour, even the worst bouts of insomnia no match against the warm delight.
Once you found it, you grabbed three boxes, knowing it'd probably be a few weeks before there would be another shopping trip, and you enjoyed a post-dinner cup of tea too much to ration.
So, what else did you need? You looked over your shoulder to try and find Shalnark, knowing he had brought a list with him. Vaguely you could remember a few items that had been written on it, but you didn't know what he'd already grabbed, and you needed to put down the boxes of tea in the cart anyway. He wasn't in the same aisle, making you sigh. You looked ridiculous like this, but at least when he was around people didn't find it too strange. 
Now you were a lone woman, grasping a lot of boxes of tea, wearing a clown mask and standing alone in an aisle.
A little girl rounded the corner you were looking at, took one glance at you, gasped, and immediately ran the other way again.
If this stupid mask made a child cry, you'd burn the thing and never wear anything like it again.
You sighed and slowly walked to the end of the aisle, hoping you would spot Shalnark quickly.
A short announcement over the intercom interrupted the cheerful and overplayed music that had been serving as the background track, asking for another staff member to go up to the registers. It was hard to fully understand what was said, the noise of carts squeaking on the floor, footsteps mingling through the aisles, scanning devices beeping and people talking creating a familiar but loud white noise. It was pretty busy, people passing you by both ways as you made your way to an overhead sign, hoping to get a better view at the edge of the rows of products.
Luckily, you quickly spotted him when you reached the end of the busy lane, enduring quite a lot of weird looks and mumbled comments in the process. You swiftly joined his side, deciding not to stray anymore. You threw the boxes inside the cart and held out your hand for the list, wanting to know what was still left.
"I got the rest." Shalnark said, leaning over the handle of the cart, seeming a bit too happy for your tastes. The very least he could do was act apologetic he was making you look like a fool. You looked inside the cart, which seemed sufficiently full at the very least. "They didn't have those candies you like, so I got chewing gum instead."
A part of you wanted to go double check, since chewing gum was the worst downgrade you could imagine when candy was on the line, but at the same time you just wanted to get out of here. A scoff behind you coming from a woman could’ve been aimed towards anyone, but you had a feeling it was aimed at you. The silicone straps linking the mask securely on your face felt all the tighter for it.
"Fine. We good to go then?" You said, checking the contents of the cart to see if he had once again decided to skimp on everything except coffee. While the brand he'd chosen for his daily ten cups was outrageously expensive, as usual, the rest looked fine. "Oh, did I put shampoo on the list? I ran out yesterday."
Shalnark placed a finger on his lips and shushed you. "You could've texted me that. Don't you see how busy it is here?"
Really?
Really?
Fine.
You quickly grabbed your phone, went to your messaging app, and typed out 'shampoo, yes or no', showing him the text immediately after. He dug through the cart and grabbed out a bottle, showing it to you before placing it back and pushing the cart through the aisle. It was the brand you usually used, so you couldn’t even bitch about that. "Sure did. And yeah, we can go. We can get some coffee on the way back, if you want."
"Sure." You said, a private grin underneath the mask, liking how he immediately snapped his head back towards you with a disappointed frown.
While the entire trip had already been highly embarrassing, you'd forgotten the forced face-to-face contact you'd need to have at the register, just knowing the odds of the employee remarking on the mask were pretty high.
It would have even weirder if they didn’t say anything in regard to it, but maybe it’d been a long shift, and little surprised them anymore. From your own retail experience, you could vaguely remember days like that. Days where every crazy-looking customer started to look just as dull as the products themselves.
Sadly, you weren’t lucky.
"Bit early for... Halloween?" The cashier, a young-looking woman with brown hair, said, looking a bit nervous, probably since you looked so suspicious with a clown mask of all things. You could see her eyes shoot to Shalnark, who just smiled. She visibly calmed down after that, probably deciding that since Shalnark seemed so friendly and actually showed his face, this wasn't a dangerous or weird situation. "Most people don't start dressing up till October."
"She likes the holiday." Shalnark said with delightful exasperation, like even he thought it was weird, but he'd simply given up on convincing you. The cashier’s eyes flew to you for confirmation, her hands continuing to scan items. “And what can you do? If my soulmate wants to dress up, she can dress up.”
Shalnark sent a blinding smile your way while he dug out his wallet, while you felt mortification wash over you.
Ignoring that it was considered a bit weird to announce soulmate status so publicly, his comment caused the cashier to immediately look between the two of you, resulting in a bit of side-eye, probably wondering how on earth you could’ve ended up as the soulmate to someone so attractive and noticeably social as Shalnark. You couldn’t very well explain the actual situation, and Shalnark knew it. Did he find it fun to continually put you down in public or something?
“That’s nice.” The cashier said, a bit too late for it to count as an immediate reaction.
"It is pretty fun." You mumbled, feeling awkward not having said anything. There were more things you could add to keep the conversation from being too embarrassing on your end, but you held your tongue, seeing Shalnark already slightly tense at your response. It was so annoying. Why'd he have to be so weird about this? “Though it is a bit stuffy to breathe in.”
“I can imagine. With this heat as well.”
The cashier finished scanning the items and returned to the usual script, asking the both of you whether you were a member, and at the negative answer, whether a store card was something either of you wanted, even quoting a special discount for soulmates who got the card together. The cashier smiled at you when she said this, and you might’ve just been on edge, but it felt like she was insulting you without saying anything. Another negative answer from Shalnark, and then he went on and paid, quickly grabbing the bags of groceries and leading the way outside.
You were already waiting for it, but you still had to take a deep breath once Shalnark, now outside the store, immediately turned around with an unmeant smile. "Was that really necessary?"
And there it was.
"For fucks' sake. I don't want to get into this with you right now." You walked ahead of him toward the car, luckily not parked too far away. "I'm wearing the stupid mask and I barely said anything. I'm already being way too forgiving with your stupid demands."
He called out your name, but once you reached the car you just stood outside the passenger side, waiting for him to unlock the doors. When you looked back toward him to see how long this would take, Shalnark had the car keys in his hands but didn't yet click for the car to unlock. Only when he reached the driver’s side door did he open it, placing all the groceries in the back first.
The poignant silence that enveloped the both of you while he loaded the car was frustrating to say the least, the tension in the air just waiting to be snapped by either of you continuing the argument that had been started.
Aggravated at the inevitability of another fight, you took a very deep breath, looked up at the bright blue sky and pulled the mask over your head. You threw the plastic abomination on the ground, getting in seconds later.
Shalnark repeated your name with a slightly admonishing tone when he noticed you'd thrown the  mask away, before sighing and getting in as well, the clank of both doors shutting equal to the sound of a gun marking the start of a contest. You crossed your arms and looked pointedly outside, hoping he'd just apologize and drop the entire matter, lest the way home would be spent screaming at each other. To be fair, you’d be the one doing the screaming, and he’d roll his eyes and crack mean-spirited jokes until one of them ended up making you giggle.  
Getting angry at Shalnark was easy, staying angry was an entirely different matter. If he didn't say sorry right now, he'd just do something nice later and make those stupid jokes until you were in too good of a mood to continue arguing, and then the cycle would repeat once you’d forgotten what exactly even you’d gotten mad about in the first place. It was kind of scary how quickly you forgot about things you never would have forgiven anyone else for.
You needed to persist. Demand an apology. Make him grovel for your forgiveness, and then you'd never have to wear those stupid masks again. He hadn't driven away yet, and you could see a few pedestrians pass in front of your car, glancing inside before moving away. You knew it'd annoy him to have others see you, but it was about time he dropped that entire continuous tantrum.
"I don't know why I even said yes to this." You mumbled before sitting up straight and making eye contact. He wasn't saying anything, despite the moment to talk clearly having arrived, so it was about time you gave him something to respond to. "I'm not going to do this ever again, so either you drop this weird issue you have-"
You didn't finish your sentence, feeling unable to say what you'd been planning to say.
He frowned, placing his hands on top of the steering wheel with a sigh. A bit too overtly emotional for him, you realized, so he was probably just messing with you. The childish whine in his voice once he spoke proved your point. "You'd wanna break up with me over this? Isn’t that kind of against the entire idea of soulmates?"
"That's not what I said."
"But it's what you implied."
"I don't wanna break up." You said, looking outside again, vaguely looking at a girl walking about three dogs simultaneously on the other side of the parking lot. "I love you, but going out with you is plain embarrassing like this. And it also kind of makes me feel like you think you can't trust me. That I'll jump on the first guy that looks at me or something. I'm not going to wear stupid masks for the rest of my life at every fuckin' outside activity."
You took a deep breath and finally felt the words you’d been rehearsing for days roll over your tongue. "And that includes just plain white masks and any other type of face coverage. I'm not ever gonna wear one of those during meetings with friends just because you have a problem with my face."
“I don’t have any problem with your face.” He said, sighing wistfully. “You’re beautiful.”
It was difficult, but you kept yourself from smiling. “Shalnark. I mean it. I’m not going to wear masks in public again.”
He whistled, leaning back against the leather seat. “Wow, full naming me. Guess you’re really pissed.”
“C’mon.” You begged, trying to get your desperation to work this out like adults across. “I’d really appreciate if you tried to take this a bit seriously.”
See? You were being considerate, even during a fight like this. If he could just say that he was sorry and that he'd work on it, you could just forgive him and move on. You'd already forgiven so much, what was one thing more? As long as he promised to change, there was little under the sun you wouldn't take, you realized with a hint of bitterness.
You'd always thought being soulmates meant being perfect for each other. For you, it seemed that being soulmates meant you were utterly unable to respect yourself when it regarded the other person. Shalnark was a walking collection of red flags and despite it all, you let him do anything he wanted, as long as he stayed with you.
Your body felt incapable of distancing itself from him, and he could do the vilest things imaginable, and your mind would immediately conjure fifteen excuses and rationalize endlessly until it made sense to love him. It was so easy to love him, but you did realize it shouldn’t be, considering the person he was.
Shortly put, he was exactly the kind of guy you’d tell anyone else to break up with.
He didn't take you seriously, didn't regard your time to be of equal importance, made empty promises, was very selfish with sex, had weird things with intimacy, lacked any sort of respect for your online privacy and he'd even killed someone in front of you while laughing about it. 
That last one, you know, should've been the final straw, the moment you finally left, but instead of leaving, you'd agreed immediately when he said it wouldn't happen again and decided that he’d probably had good reasons. When he later admitted to being part of the Phantom Troupe, you realized his interpretation of a good reason probably didn’t coincide with your definition of the term.
It wasn't even rose-tinted glasses. You knew this was bad, that he was probably a psychopath in the clinical sense of the word, and yet your body and mind wouldn't listen to you. He was your soulmate, something you’d known from the second you’d first locked eyes while you were paying the bill in a cheap pizza place, and no matter what he did, you'd look at him like he was the sun.
The fact that you felt this way had to mean he felt the same at least in some way, but the things he did to you, you would never be able to do to him.
The soulmate bond had been sold to you as the most romantic thing ever, fate interrupting the normal day-to-day life and saying that 'no matter what, these two people belong together'.
Every moment in each other’s presence was meant to feel safe and loving, and even the closest friendship or the most erotic romance in the world would be nothing in comparison. You'd been told before, often accompanied with small chuckles and a hand on your shoulder, that media tended to exaggerate, but even so, you'd seen the loving glances, the immediate understanding, and the unending support. You'd wanted it, so when you met Shalnark, you'd been eager to feel what had been promised.
It'd been beautiful at first, sure. Every touch made your body light up, and when he smiled you felt your entire chest contract in affection. Yet as time passed and his true nature came to light, the very same constant love your body produced for him felt much more conflicted. He made you cry, he did awful things, was a horrible person, and still? Still? What did those feelings, this entire bond, say about you as a person? Were you really okay with loving someone who admitted his curiosity toward the soulmate bond was the sole reason he hadn't killed you initially?
Instead of the beautiful and eternal partnership you'd expected, this felt like a mutual prison, fate saying that 'no matter how much they hurt each other, these people must stay together'.
Though you doubted you could really hurt Shalnark.
Mostly, you reckoned, you annoyed him. He’d sigh, flick your forehead, and on vary rare occasions, swear. Usually, it was in regards to you starting fights, crying at weird times and being sensitive to small things, though you guessed that most of what you did that could be considered mean or annoying was quite nearly always reactionary. You didn’t truly wish to hurt him, always feeling bad when you thought you’d gone too far, even the most minor frown on his face making you internally wince.
Shalnark, on the other hand, had no issue with saying and doing the meanest things he could imagine.
"And of course, you don’t have to wear a mask when meeting with friends." He said, sounding rather flippant. "Though I wonder which exact friends you mean. Last I checked, you didn’t have a lot left."
The second those words were processed; your fingers sought the handle to the door. You pulled it, but at the lack of weight behind it, you figured he'd locked the car. Without the option to just walk away, you turned to him with glazed eyes, tears close to spilling. "You're such a fucking asshole. Why would you say that?"
"C'mon." He drawled cutesy, the crinkle of his eyes making you livid, a feeling that wasn't mutually exclusive with the affection you felt at his expression of joy. He looked so good smiling. All you really wanted to do, instead of this stupid fighting, was lean forward and press your lips on his and for those hands of his cup your cheeks and hold you tight. "It isn't my fault you're not very popular."
Focus.
You could scream into your pillow later.
"It is, and you know it." You bit out, trying to push away all nice and warm thoughts and feelings his smile continued to barrage you with. You needed to be angry now. You were angry now. Your body couldn't continually betray you like this. "Every single one of them quoted you as the reason they wanted to go no-contact."
You couldn’t really remember what had been the turning point for any of them, but you’d reread the text messages endlessly, and knew that whatever Shalnark had done, it’d been bad. Bad enough to alienate you from everyone you’d once considered to be a good friend.
His smile widened, and he reached forward to pet your hair, and once again you had to force through an entire wave of soulmate bullshit feelings to get your hand to move and push away his belittling affection. Luckily, at least you were still crying. That was a proud moment since you could remember a similar incident a week ago where you'd stopped crying the second he'd held your hand, immediately forgetting whatever you'd been so forlorn about. You were going to be stronger today.
Shalnark looked at his hand with mild surprise, clearly not having expected you to push him away.
Now. 
You needed to do this now.
"Even outside of the entire mask-thing; you clearly don't respect me at all and think you can get me to forgive anything with some sweet nothings," The words were hard to get out of your throat, the back of your mind constantly giving suggestions on how to fix the situation and regain a happy and comfortable atmosphere with him. Surely he'd change this time. He loved you. He had to. Wasn't the sight of your discomfort horrifying to him? "but I mean this very seriously. If you don't want to pay attention, feel free, but I need to say this out loud, just to see if I can."
You were doing it. You were really doing it. This was happening. It seemed even Shalnark couldn't believe it, his eyebrows raised, and the smile wiped off his face for once. Who would've thought that a supermarket parking lot would be the place where you would finally find the determination and strength to say what you really felt, underneath all that biological and forced affection?
Whether or not people could hear the two of you, you didn’t care. They could film the entire fight. You were on a roll and had to ride this out. The odds of this kind of courage resurfacing any time soon were slim. The cacophony of feelings mainly resulted in a weird form of stress, your palms sweaty and your eyes wide. Your tongue felt heavy, and you knew the volume with which you were talking was steadily rising, passion key in breaking through whatever hesitation the soulmate bond would throw your way.
You pushed the remaining words out, struggling through the blockage. "Breaking up with you might make me utterly miserable, but I prefer it to whatever this is. This soulmate bond... You don't love me. Not really, I know it. And I think I don't even really love-"
Shalnark’s hand covered your mouth in an instant and your head recoiled at the speed with which he'd moved. 
For a second your sight grew dim, the force with which your head was grasped making your brain shake inside your skull. The back of your head had luckily not been smacked against the glass, but there was little else to be grateful about in this situation.
He'd been surprised when you’d flicked away his hand, but now his entire expression had frozen completely. You realized you'd never ever seen him angry. Not if this was what he looked like angry. He didn’t frown necessarily, his entire face just a blank slate, his usual boyish charm replaced with the cold eyes of the psychopath you accused him of being.
It was silent for a few seconds before he very forcefully lifted the edges of his mouth. Like this, he looked like a person that had never truly learned to smile, executing the basics just to please others. "Don't say that." The fingers clasped around your face were starting to hurt, fingernails digging into your skin. "Do you even realize how cruel that would be?"
It was hot intside the car, and the air conditioning was firmly off, but suddenly it felt like a draft had been let in, bringing a cold that you were definitely not dressed for. Every muscle in your body that had not been tense yet, contracted painfully. The world outside the car did not exist anymore, the few square feet within the tin contraption the only space that mattered. You wanted to cover up, to curl into yourself, to cry more audibly than the silent tears you felt rolling down your cheeks.
He let go of your face, but that didn’t really matter. Whether his hand blocked your mouth or not, you couldn’t talk either way. You’d never felt atmospheric pressure like this, gravity feeling ten times heavier than normal, your lungs compressing like they could burst at any minute. There was no need to search around for the source of this feeling, as Shalnark was clearly the danger in this situation, the bloodlust surging off him in waves.
The only time you’d even felt something similar had been when Shalnark had killed someone right in front of you.
It was already months ago, and you preferred it being lost to time, but this tension made it feel like it was just yesterday.
The two of you had been walking back to your apartment, having gone on a walk to get some ice cream in the middle of the night for some reason you couldn’t remember, and someone strange had been trailing behind you for quite some time, or at least, that’s what Shalnark had later explained. You hadn’t noticed anyone, so from your perspective, all was good, and you were just in playful conversation, and then while you were mid-sentence in another pun, Shalnark had turned around, leaped forward toward someone at least twenty feet behind you, and crushed a stranger’s skull against the pavement.
The man, whose face was utterly unrecognizable due to the impact, had died immediately. Shalnark, however, continued punching his head into the stone, coating his fists in gore that would eventually drip onto your carpet. Soap and lemon juice had gotten most out, but you’d been tempted to bleach the entire patch, just to get rid of any remaining blood.
Later he admitted that he’d kept attacking because dental records were the easiest way to figure out someone’s identity, and he wanted to stall whatever investigation would come following this stranger’s death by completely crushing the teeth. Shalnark, after finishing up doing this, had kicked the remains into the ditch beside the road and had turned back to you, skipping cheerfully to where you were. He’d even finished the pun you’d been intending to make. You’d been utterly frozen the entire twenty seconds it took for all of this to happen and hadn’t been able to fully process the situation, your dropped ice cream somehow feeling more real than whatever that had been.
But the exact second where Shalnark had turned around and attacked the stranger. That moment felt similar. The same pressure, the same instant ignition of your nerves, your body tensing up like it was expecting danger to come from any angle. Panic was a powerful emotion, and the suffocating grip it had on you made you want to run out and go home.
For once since realizing who he really was, you weren’t conflicted about what you wanted to do.
Sadly, the car was still locked and even if it hadn’t been, Shalnark had, in your opinion and experience, supernatural speed and strength. He could stop you the second your body found the necessary push to move. If he could lift the entire fridge to grab his keys that had fallen underneath and kill a man twenty feet away in mere seconds, he could stop you from getting out of this car.
"You did manage to surprise me today. You're normally so easy to control. I like that about you, but I guess even someone like you has a breaking point." Your entire body felt discomfort at his harsh words, the voice in the back of your head that had been trying to appease him to get out of this fight no longer whispering, but screaming. He couldn't kill you, right? Instinctively, it very much felt like he could.
Shalnark continued, his green eyes without light as he stared unblinkingly at you. "Why is it the mask? I did much worse than this. Why this? I saw you look up the Phantom Troupe, so I know you know what I've done. Why the mask? Why could you accept everything but that?"
You looked down at your thighs before looking up slowly through your eyelashes, feeling too afraid to completely look away from him.
“Is it because you can ignore the suffering of others, but the embarrassment of people laughing at you in a supermarket is too much?” As if he wasn’t in the midst of tearing you down, he suddenly fell silent and relaxed completely. He started the car, backing out of the parking lot and driving toward the road, even holding up his hand to a different driver that gave him the right of way. When the two of you were out of the parking lot, he spoke up again, sounding way too cheerful for the topic of conversation. “That makes you a pretty bad person, don’t you think? Or at least not a very empathetic one.”
‘You’re one to talk’ would’ve probably been the reply if your tongue did not feel like cotton in your mouth. 
In some way, he had a point. He was right that you hadn’t gotten this fired up even when witnessing active crimes. He was probably right in saying that it was because you could ignore the suffering of others, especially when they didn’t have names and faces in your mind, but it wasn’t fair to you considering you both knew how this worked. Of course, you could ignore hypothetical people suffering when the amount of delusion this soulmate bond forced on you even made you question things happening right in front of you, things that were real for you in one moment, and merely a vague memory the next.
It was harder to completely forget suffering when it was your own, when you’d seen and felt every glance and giggle thrown your way, followed by the disappointment of Shalnark not seeming to think your state of mind held any importance compared to what he preferred. His cruel remark regarding your friends had resurfaced some more bad memories, so in some way it made sense that today you finally held enough of a grip on the hurt he’d given you. It had to be your suffering, and there had to be a lot of it. Otherwise, you’d just forget.
Whether or not that made you a bad person didn’t really matter. It was out of your control.
“Well since you’ve got all this figured out,” God, did he sound bitter. The car was on the main road now, and even as he seemed focused on the traffic, you knew he was very much taking note of the way your fingers were still tentatively feeling the handle of the car. “Can you warrant a guess what will happen now?”
Swallowing, you took a deep breath and looked down. “I don’t know.”
“I didn’t ask whether or not you know what’ll happen. I asked you to guess.”
“I don’t know.”
“Killjoy.” His fingers fumbled with the radio, and the unwelcome noise of music added a background track for the fight. It didn’t fit well, but you weren’t suicidal enough to turn it down, or even ask for such a favor. “Well for starters, you are right to say that there is little choice here involved. That in itself makes this relationship we have really easy, since no matter what either of us will do, we’ll still want to be together. In my opinion, it is genuine love, especially since other types of love are often just as codependent and reliant on biology. If anything, the soulmate connection is much more stable than something reliant on behavior and aesthetics, since that leaves open a lot of uncertainty the second either of us changes.” You pressed your thighs together as he spoke, trying to limit your movement as much as possible, still fearing an attack if you acted rashly. “So, you do love me, and despite what you might think, I love you.” 
The admission of love made you look up for a second, instinctive relief at the affection, but the second he started speaking again, you winced and returned to trying to make yourself as small as possible.
“Still, we’re in a bit of a situation now, since you’ve gone and threatened to leave me, all because of what? I made you wear a silly mask and you got embarrassed? Seems rather over the top, doesn’t it?”
He took an exit left, and you felt a lot of relief realizing he was going the right way home. You didn’t exactly know why you feared him going elsewhere, but home, even if it was like this, felt like a safe place to go. There was a small spot between your bed and the wall. You could hide there.
In a whim you’d hidden a knife underneath the bed, unknowing at the moment why you’d want to have a weapon in arms reach. It seemed that even though your body and mind were at odds with what they felt for Shalnark, unconsciously you’d felt the danger he presented.
Shalnark reached over and squeezed your thigh, and when you looked up instantly, surprised at the sudden touch, he smiled. It would’ve been a lovely sight if the atmosphere wasn’t still so sinister. “What do you think will happen if I just up the ante for a few weeks? You should be able to tell me.”
“…In what way?”
He removed his hand and shrugged, placing his hands back on the wheel. His smile became wider at your reply. Ignoring your apprehension, he started explaining. “It’ll be great, don’t you worry. I’ll bring you breakfast in bed, cuddle a little bit, and then fuck you until you can’t think anymore. I’ll get you your favorite coffee, we’ll watch a little movie, and then we repeat it the next day, provided I’m not busy with more important things.”
If there was even a small part of you that wasn’t frozen yet, Shalnark’s nonchalant presentation of his idea did the job. Your fingers fruitlessly clenched on the handle to the door, despite the fact that you’d probably get injured if you jumped out of a fast moving car. 
“Of course, all of this from the safety of the basement.” Shalnark laughed loudly, a bit too amused with his own self-imagined fantasy. “Can you even imagine what the soulmate bond does to someone who doesn’t interact with others? When I am not only the only source of love, but of food, water and safety? You think you love me now, but you haven’t seen yourself like that. I promise you, after a few weeks, you’ll truly and utterly love me.”
There was something weird about what he was suggesting, outside of the obvious reasons. You frowned and looked down, trying to think, though you didn’t need to think long on your immediate response, words barely above a whisper. “Shal, that’s...really creepy. You’re scaring me.”
Your head hurt, a weird pressure adding onto the stress you were already feeling. Why would he lock you up? What could you do here? Pretending to be sorry about this entire fight to appease him, like you couldn’t stop imagining, wouldn’t work. Lies didn’t really work when you could already hear the desperation in your voice. 
‘Don’t make this harder on me’ You wanted to beg, ‘I really want to love you.’
Still, something about this was really bothering you, like a song you didn’t remember the name of anymore. It was on the tip of your tongue. What had he said? 
The basement. You’d not been there in years, if at all. That was weird. There were boxes in the living room that hadn’t been moved there yet, though the idea to move them down there by yourself had never occurred to you. Had the light been broken? No, not that you could remember.
The part you where hung up on, primarily, was how easily you understood exactly what he wanted to do, what he was planning. Maybe you just knew him that well, but as you looked to the side to your grinning soulmate and only found a cruel stranger, you realized that could never be the case. You knew him, but you didn’t understand him at all.
Despite that, you could envision it vividly, and for a second you wondered if your imagination didn’t seem too realistic for it to be a mere fantasy. Had this happened before? No, you would’ve remembered something like that. You would’ve. Still, you could see him, standing at the top of the stairs, holding a metal tray that you had once taken with you from work, filled to the brim with food and a steaming cup of tea. 
The light from the hallway made his blonde hair light up like a halo, and since the rest of the basement would be dark, everything would be focused on him. The smell of freshly baked eggs would spread through the stuffy room, an add-on to the thick scent of dust and sweat that was already there. It didn’t mix well.
Wait. A metal tray from work? When had you last had a shift at work?
“Well, it isn’t the first time I’ve been called a creep.” If anything, Shalnark seemed to take it as a compliment. You were close to home now, the house not even five minutes away. “But you’ll call me nicer things soon.”
It had to be a memory.
“You’ve done this before.” You accused, not yet completely sure of it, but your lucidity toward your own lack of knowledge became obvious now that you could clearly see everything you couldn’t remember anymore. Had you even been employed before meeting him? You could vaguely recall the scent of salt, the smell that lingered on your uniform after a long day. “What- How did I forget?”
The basement was the key. The panic attack you were currently experiencing at this massive revelation was horrid, your mind frantically trying to find things you did remember. The metal tray. The staircase. What did he do to you there?
Slowly, you could piece together a small image, one of you lying on the bed that was in the midst of the room, the sole piece of furniture in the entire space. You were sweaty, your fingers grasping white bedsheets with your eyes searching for a clock that wasn’t there. How long had you been there?
He was there, in the memory, slotted between your legs, a purple bat stuck in his own neck. Soulless eyes were following you while his hips mechanically thrust into you, your pussy bruised from how many times he’d already cum inside you. ‘It’s easier like this,’ he’d promised before pushing the pin inside his own skin ‘If I fuck you consciously all the time, I might end up going easy on you.’
There was barely any light down there, but he always seemed to be cascaded in soft yellow rays. You could recall the ecstasy when he was there, the passionate touches, the sweet nothings and the rapture you felt when you passed out from the utter abuse he inflicted on your body. 
You could also recall the madness when he left, when it was dark and hours ticked by without anything happening, the hunger and thirst when hours turned into days. Something like that, even though at this point it was just a vague feeling, made you suspect there would be nothing left of you at the end.
“Shal, I’m serious.” You begged desperately, barely feeling like yourself anymore. “Who am I?”
Shalnark didn’t answer your question, and he didn’t need to anymore.
The house came in sight.
“If anything, I’m kind of glad.” Shalnark sighed wistfully as he drove into the driveway. “We’ve been in need of some quality time.”
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bwabys-scenarios · 6 months
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Imagine Shalnark eating your pussy but he keeps getting distracted by his phone so now he’s watching tiktoks while tongue fucking you… the way I would smack his blonde head and revoke pussy privileges so fast… and he’s like “but I like to watch videos while I eat :(“ SIR??
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tinfairies · 5 months
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hello! could you please do nsfw headcanons for hxh chrollo, feitan, shal, and phinks, where their favourite place to cum is? inside or on their s/o?? please and thank you!!!
Paint It White
Chrollo, Feitan, Shalnark and Phinks x AFAB!Reader
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Chrollo Lucilfer
He's prefer to cum in your pussy, but understands if you don't want that.
Instead he'll cum on it, and all over your thighs. Then he'll take great care to get between your legs to lick you clean.
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Feitan Portor
He prefers to cum in your mouth or on your chest.
Fei makes it as messy as possible and always makes you swallow his jizz. Don't expect him to clean you up if it's on your chest though.
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Phinks Magcub
Loves to cum all over your ass and back, smacking your thigh and then rubbing the jizz into your skin.
He's so nasty, he'll collect it on his fingers and have you suck it off sometimes.
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Shalnark
Begs to cum in your pussy, he gets pouty about it and will find reasons to make sure his cum gets up inside you.
Even if he cums on your pussy, he'll just finger it up into, hoping it takes and that you'll get pregnant. (baby trapping mother fucker)
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sullenhighstar · 9 days
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Got ur hair lol
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