St4rG1rl

I have a love/hate relationship with writing. I love it but my brain hates it. Too many words. I love yapping too and world building and headcanons. I enjoy angst and fluff. Especially fluff!!

Here are some things I would write:

-fluff

-angst

-yandere

-headcanons

-smut (maybe)

-poly relationships

-male/female/gender neutral reader

I don’t write:

-pregnancy

-incest

-r@pe

-abuse

When you first opened your small antique shop in York New, you knew you’d get some—well, let’s call them interesting—customers. It was to be expected in the shady, auction-filled underground of York New.

Most of the individuals coming into your shop got a tight-lipped smile and clenched teeth from you. Daring them to touch the antiques one more time, but only if they didn’t want to keep living.

And while you didn’t have too many customers, you had three or four regulars. You enjoyed their company, most times, and sometimes you really wanted to bash their heads in with a rock or better yet the Holy Grail. Professionally, of course. However, you still loved all of your customers dearly.

But your favorite regular, by far, had to be the daughter of the Nostrade Family. Neon Nostrade.

You simply adored that girl. With her brightly colored hair, pretty dresses and child-like attitude. And yeah sure she was a brat, but a sweet brat. Like a younger sister.

You really enjoyed her curiosity about your macabre items and of course her company. She cared about your treasures, when everyone else called them trash, curse these uneducated fools.

To the surprise of literally anyone that didn’t know Neon, she was always the first person at your shop whenever you got anything new. Wondering where and how you got them, a question you usually dodged whenever asked. Maybe the tattoo on your chest would be a good start? Good times.

Neon’s visits were frequent, unannounced and totally made your day.

So when Neon slammed the door of your shop open, walking in like she owned the place—your newest arrival, a small but beautiful diamond ring, distracting her—you just had to smile. Your mouth twitched and the tiniest of smiles formed on your lips.

“Hello to you too Neon”, you chuckled and she rolled her eyes.

“I said hello! Well, maybe not. Who cares? What’s this?”

She pointed to the ring, looking at you expectantly.

“This? It’s a diamond ring that is said to have belonged to the first king of the Kakin Empire.”

Neon’s eyes lit up and she grinned at the treasure.

“It’s very pretty! And it looks almost like the one I saw on one of the Ten Dons yesterday!”

You smiled, lips a little tighter pressed together. You were aware that it looked exactly like one of the Dons’ rings. Because it was his. Or well, used to be his.

“What a coincidence,” despite people telling you you were wrong, sarcasm was actually your native language.

“Yeah- can I have it? I need this ring!”

Neon looked at you with her usual give-this-to-me-I-really-need-it eyes and you cracked a smile, a real one.

“Can you promise me not to show it to any of the Dons?”

The smaller girl nodded enthusiastically, probably not even listening to you anyway.

“Of course!”

“Then sure, you can have it.”

Neon really was your favorite customer. And her smile? The reason you didn’t have a mental breakdown yet.

As a world-star actress you were especially good at two things.

One was lying, hiding your true self behind a mask so thick, no one could tell who you really were.

The second thing was something you liked to keep hidden. Manipulation. Or rather convincing, deceiving and, as you liked to call it, guiding others. Guiding them towards helping you.

It’s not that you were a bad person. But you wouldn’t call yourself a good one either. You wouldn’t have ever made a name for yourself in the industry, if you were.

And maybe, just maybe, these two things were to blame for Tserriednich’s infatuation with you.

————

You don’t remember when you met the fourth prince for the first time, but you do remember his apathetic gaze, the cold atmosphere of polite smiles and backstab-plotting and how your instincts screamed at you to get away from him.

But maybe you’re a bit of a masochist or maybe you simply love a good challenge. Whatever it was, somehow you ended up being… intrigued, maybe you’d even call it enchanted by Prince Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou.

So when someone offered you that he’d directly introduce you to the prince, you were ecstatic.

But you weren’t the only one. There was a reason why Tserriednich instructed someone to introduce you two. Was it morbid curiosity? Obsession? Definitely obsession. Not only were you a cultured person of the arts, you were truly fascinating to him too.

He watched as you fooled others with your mask, never truly showing who you are. It was fascinating how your mask never seemed to slip. And truly he had to admit you fooled him at first. He only truly realized you were wearing a mask when it slipped.

An accident, someone spilling a drink in your beautiful dress, a teeny tiny micro expression, was all it took to realize you had fooled him.

And if Tserriednich hated one thing it was people lying to him. But he didn’t hate you no, no, not even a tiny bit. How could he when you performed an act so beautifully? And maybe he wished that in your core, you were exactly like him. So of course he just had to meet you.

And meeting you he did. He smiled at you, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. And it seemed wrong? on him, as if reality itself was telling you something was terribly wrong. But you didn’t mind, or at least didn’t show that you minded.

“You wear masks better than any royal I’ve met. Tell me… which version of yourself am I currently looking at?”

His tone was cold. Flat. His underlying accusation not lost on you. But despite that you smiled. Sickly sweet, just like your voice.

“Which version do you want me to be?” His smile turned into something far more sinister. Something dangerous. And yet, your face didn’t give away any emotion, anything that could tell him what you were thinking.

He was obsessed. Delighted even. He needed you. Not as a lover, why would he when he can’t even feel love? No he needed to posses you. Own you. Use you to his own advantage before anyone could use you against him. It would be a shame to waste your talent after all.

He wanted to take you apart piece by piece. Strip everything away from you, until the only thing left was the real you. Then he’d break you. And rebuild you again, until all you could ever think about was him. You wouldn’t even get the chance to betray him.

“If you can fool the world, you must belong only to someone who truly sees you,” his words made you believe he might love you like you loved him. You really wanted to. So much, that you even silenced the voice in the back of your mind, screaming at you to get away from him. Was it pride? Loneliness? A desire to finally be acknowledged for who you really are?

Poor little you. This time you really bit more than you can chew. Did you really think someone like him could love you? Care for you?

It had to be some kind of masochism. Why else would you willingly walk into the lions den?

Or maybe this was a mistake on your end. After all, it hadn’t really been a choice for you in the first place.

Meruem didn’t know how you were still alive.

You were delicate—so painfully human, and even your own body seemed to betray you at every turn.

You had once told him, in a quiet voice and with tired eyes, that you struggled with migraines. He’d only nodded, brow creased, thinking it was just another human quirk he didn’t understand.

But then he started noticing.

How often you seemed drained.

How you winced at light, complaining that it was too bright, too sharp.

How nausea would strike you suddenly, leaving you pale and trembling.

At first, he’d been… irritated.

You were unpredictable—fragile, moody, overly sensitive. He hated the feeling of walking on eggshells around you. And yet—he found himself doing it anyway.

But what shifted him was the expression you wore when you thought no one was watching. The way your face crumpled into quiet pain. How your shoulders curled inward, trying to shrink away from the world. How your normally warm voice dulled when the pain overtook you.

He hated it.

He hated seeing that pain—etched into your body, your posture, your spirit.

You had learned to hide it well. Years of practice had made you graceful even in agony. But there were days when the mask slipped.

Today was one of those days.

Everything was too loud.

Too bright.

Too much.

Your head was splitting. Your eyes burned with every flicker of light.

It hurt.

You hadn’t asked for this kind of life.

You’d curled up in a dark corner of Meruem’s castle, the way you often did when your chronic pain flared. Tucked into yourself like a wounded bird.

You had already taken painkillers. They didn’t help.

Tears blurred your vision, not from sadness—but from sheer, stubborn, gnawing pain.

Pitou had come to find you earlier, hoping to share something. You’d snapped. You hadn’t meant to—you were just overwhelmed, raw. They’d left silently. Even they didn’t push.

Then Meruem came.

You didn’t need to see him to know it was him. His aura was unmistakable.

Still, you didn’t speak. You didn’t have the strength.

He didn’t press.

Instead, he sat beside you, silent and still, his gaze on your curled frame.

For the first time in his existence, he felt powerless. There was nothing he could fight. Nothing he knew how to fix.

He could see your pain—feel the weight of it.

But he had no idea how to ease it.

And then—he reached out.

His hand, which was usually firm and commanding, now trembled slightly as he gently stroked your head.

You flinched at the touch, then looked up at him from your cocoon—lashes damp, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy.

“It usually helps me when you do this…” he said, his voice low, definitely embarrassed. “I thought… maybe it might help you too.”

He looked away, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

And for the first time today you smiled. A small, real smile.

No, it didn’t fix the pain.

But the fact that he cared—that he tried—was enough.

You shifted, soft and slow, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head gently in his lap.

He paused only for a second before continuing the motion—fingers threading gently through your hair.

The thought of you being in constant pain broke something inside him. How could someone as sweet as you be tormented like this.

He wouldn’t let you hurt alone anymore. He swore that to himself.

The migraine didn’t magically vanish.

There were few people Meruem trusted. Even fewer people he actually let close. Not that anyone would ever dare getting close to the Chimera Ant King anyways.

Well, that wasn’t completely true.

There was one person that dared getting close to him. And it was this very same person, sitting across from him, smiling at the king.

Meruem stared at your smaller form. You were so weak, so fragile, nothing compared to his own perfection and yet… you were the only thing that made him feel like an actual person.

And he would burn cities, conquer kingdoms—he’d even destroy the world to see you looking at him like that. Like he wasn’t a monster. Like you cared.

His gaze softened and his lips turned the slightest bit upward. You were truly a fascinating creature. Capturing the king’s attention so easily and living to tell the tale. How curious…

Meruem stared at you, lost in his own thoughts. He didn’t even notice you changing your position.

Neither did he notice how mischievously you grinned at him

“Boop”

Meruem was taken aback.

His eyes wide as he stared at your finger, planted directly on his nose.

Was this some kind of attack? Or some weird human custom? Should he be insulted? Why were his cheeks heating up? Did you use some kind of nen on him?

The Chimera’s head filled with a dozen questions. Mind racing at your surprise attack.

“What… was that about?” Meruem tried to keep his voice monotone as usual—devoid of any emotion.

And he failed miserably.

His voice cracked halfway through the sentence. Eyes darting across your face. His cheeks completely red.

“I booped your nose!”

You grinned. Meruem blinked. His face completely blank.

You what? Booped his nose?

What was that supposed to mean? And why did he want you to do it again?

You laughed at his bewildered expression. “Don’t worry it’s nothing bad I promise,” you pressed out between laughter and wiping away a small tear.

Meruem scoffed.

He didn’t like you laughing at him. So he did what seemed an acceptable response and booped you back.

His finger pressed down on your nose, smug grin on his face.

You slapped his hand away and pouted.

“You didn’t need to go full Hulk-smash on my face. That actually hurts, you know?”

“Hulk- what?”

“Nothing.”

There were few people Meruem trusted. Even fewer people he actually let close.

“Are you done with that book?”

Chrollo’s deep, smooth voice cut through the silence.

You looked up from the page you had just read, blinking as your head tried to process his words.

You’d promised to help him research a specific artifact and hours had passed. Now letters danced in your vision and nothing made sense.

Did he say something about a book? Or… a look?

You sighed, eyes heavy, the urge to sleep pulling you in like a tide. Maybe… just one more page.

“What… what did you say again?”

Chrollo chuckled, the sound warm and dangerous. His eyes sparkled with mischief—a look you learned to fear.

“You’re staring, sweetheart. Stop giving me that look.”

He brushed his thumb along your lips, gaze fixed on your lips.

You blinked slowly, sleep trying to drag you under.

Then, just as quickly—he was across the room, sitting in his chair.

“Well? Are you finished with the book?”

You swore you were going insane.

Just a second ago, Chrollo had been right next to you, thumb brushing your lips and now he was seated across the room, calmly reading?

“Huh…? What were you talking about again?”

His words sounded slurred—or maybe it was your brain slurring them. Everything felt foggy, like wading through water in a dream. You were so tired. Your mind drifted, barely tethered to reality.

“Darling? Are you still listening?”

His voice reached you again, softer this time, like a lullaby you barely caught.

You cracked one eye open. Chrollo was leaning in now, smirking, his breath warm against your cheek.

Then—

Snap.

The sharp sound of a book closing made you jolt, nearly falling off your seat. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your vision.

Chrollo sat across from you again, a closed book resting on his lap. No trace of the smirk or the gentle touch. Just that unreadable expression he wore so well.

“You should go to bed. It’s late,” he said. His voice was firmer now—more real.

So unlike the version you had imagined.

He stood without waiting for your response and turned to leave, but at the doorway, he paused. Then, cast a glance over his shoulder.

And winked.

Your heart fluttered, or maybe it was the sleep deprivation messing with your brain.

You really needed sleep.

At this rate, you’d start imagining Chrollo proposing to you next.

…Which, honestly, didn’t sound too bad.

[Hunter x Hunter]

➳Chrollo Lucilfer

➳Dream me a smile

➳Meruem

➳Boop for the king

➳Painkiller

➳ Tserriednich Hui Gou Rou

➳Mask

➳ Neon Nostrade

➳ Bankruptcy: To be expected

➳My hxh!various x fem!reader: [Mythical]

[Heaven Official’s Blessing]

➳ Xie Lian

➳ Humming in the night, you’re my only light

➳Hua Cheng

➳ The softest hair

Soft, silky, smooth.

Sometimes you really asked yourself how he was doing it.

Staring at the man slumped over the throne in Paradise Hall, you shook your head.

You had asked if you could give him a new hairstyle, since his hair was getting long and it seemed fun.

But you got lost in how soft his hair was.

His hair wasn’t even supposed to feel real and yet somehow, he had the softest hair you’ve ever felt.

It was almost frustrating how perfect Hua Cheng’s hair seemed to be.

His eyes were closed, humming contently as your fingers combed through his hair.

You twirled a strand of it around your finger, mesmerized.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Your lips were pressed tight, eyes squinted.

Why did his hair have to be so perfect?

Hua Cheng’s laugh filled Paradise Hall. He adjusted his position, cracking his eye open and looking at you.

“Whatever do you mean my sweet?” His voice was deep, soft and a serious threat to your ability to breathe.

You could feel your cheeks burning up and he hadn’t even said anything… bad!

You hated how much he affected you. A smirk. A few soft words. And every time it caused your brain to just stop…

Your infatuation with this man was going to kill you one day, you were sure of it.

“Your hair. It’s so soft! And silky!” You averted your eyes from the long-haired man. The ground suddenly so much more interesting than before.

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. His smirk made you forget what you were asking him before anyways.

Hua Cheng leaned into your touch again, eyes closed and enjoying your warm touch.

“Is that why you’ve been combing through my hair for the last two hours?”

Your cheeks burned as you slapped his shoulder lightly.

He really was the worst.

The sun had long since set. Only the stars lit the kingdom of Xianle.

Not a single person or creature seemed to be awake. The kingdom was quiet. Peaceful. Asleep.

If it hadn’t been as dark, someone would have been able to see the small figure sitting on top of a roof.

But no one seemed to notice the dark, humanoid shadow. Sitting. Swinging their legs. Waiting.

After what felt like hours of sitting in the cold another dark silhouette emerged from the castle.

Xie Lian’s eyes scanned every inch of the surroundings he could see, searching frantically for something or rather someone.

“(Y/N)?!” He didn’t quite shout, nor did he whisper.

The wind carried his voice up the roof and his not-quite-question was answered with childish laughter.

Xie Lian’s eyes shot up the castle walls, until he met the eyes of a younger teenager, sitting on the roof.

“Oh. There you are!”

A few swift footsteps later, Xie Lian too was sitting on the castle’s roof.

The two young teenagers sat in silence, gazing at the starlit kingdom.

Only a soft hum broke the silence.

The castle was quiet, as was the kingdom.

Everything seemed to be asleep.

Only two young souls remained awake.

Was this a scene from a fairytale?

No. It was simply two youngsters in-love, who couldn’t meet in sunlight.

“I have brought something for you” the humming silhouette finally broke the silence.

Xie Lian turned to his lover—ah no, best friend—of course, eyes wide.

“Really?”

“Really. Here take it.”

The smaller person pushed a small hairpin into his hands.

The young prince stared at the metal in his hand, a finger tracing its design.

“A hairpin?” He raised an eyebrow—not that his friend would have noticed in the dark.

“Yes. Keep it and you’ll always have a piece of me with you”

Xie Lian didn’t respond to their statement.

They both didn’t say anything after this small exchange.

But if it had been a little less dark, someone would have been able to see the prince clutching the hairpin tighter. Just a little bit, of course.

But it was dark and so no one saw them.