‼️‼️ART IN THE BEGINNING IS NOT MINE‼️‼️
Your chest was raging with tense pains and short breaths, your vision was clouded by pure sweat and mist, you supposed your eyes were radiating a scarlet loom. But you didn't dare even think about stopping- not even hiding, You understood how capable these people where, and that if you didn't find a neighboring village soon, your people- your real family, your true friends, everything that you had ever loved would nadir extinction.
You jerked at the sound of a light footstep, but this tread wasn't a mistake; no member of the phantom troupe could make such easy failure. You felt uneasy and your foot couldn't bear the pain of another step despite your mind telling it to move. All of the sudden, a petite, intimidating, woman revealed herself to you, in such an embarrassing moment of what you presumed weakness, right in front of you, right in front of you to be witnessed, -- or witness you herself? "Stop running, they've all been killed, you're too late."
You felt your only motivation shrink to the size your pride this second, You where overcome with such grief, your eyes returned to its normal shade, parting with its scarlet alter ego. Your mind was so shaken it had started to shut down on you, and any sort of determination you had accumulated during this past half hour succumbed. She smirked a bit. She had just partaken in genocide, your people, they were killed-- because there eyes?? Why, why would she, how could she? You screamed, in a fit of rage at her, "TAKE MINE!! TAKE MY EYES!! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?? PLEASE!! TAKE THEM FROM ME!" Your voice cracking a bit, your vocal chords followed after your brain, they shut down, gave up. There was truly nothing you could do.
Your eyes filled with the same cloudy vision from before, except this circumstance was much different. Tears swelled in your eyes, you couldn't help but start to hyperventilate. It was so painful, every sharp inhale you took in felt like the same pain you experienced just shortly before, watching your brethren be decapitated, and their eyes plunged out of their soon decaying skulls. Crimson took power of your entire being, it was something beyond your control. You still couldn't move and you had no idea why, you attempted to try to break free, as you felt your determination for anything start to pry free of your judgement. You heard a very soothing, androgynous voice, you knew who that voice belonged to. A man, who held a tattooed cross on the center of his forehead, approach just behind you. "Is this the last one, Machi?" He was the leader of this all, you knew it, if you could kill him right this second you would, in a heartbeat, you would if it killed you, in a second. The only thing was, you couldn't move, you were trapped, and you were tired. Too tired to get up, too tired to think, too tired to function. "I'm sure of it." Machi cut in "Ah I see, how old is she?" The man presumed "I wouldn't guess anything over 12, it doesn't look like she can't see my nen or control her eye pigmentation, should I kill her?"
You listened intuitively, anything you heard could be your cue to run away, if you could support yourself up first, of course. You looked down, staring at your hands, covered in your own mother's blood, staring at the grass which showed a dark beautiful green, indicating springs peak, soon, as Kurta tradition, you would celebrate it, if they had miraculously survived. That the cruelty of the world, isn't it? "Nen? What the hell is nen?!" You thought. So suddenly, you felt eyes looking down at you, "No, I have a better idea." The priestlike-man expressed. You looked up to feel your jaw being jerked forcefully, pulling you up, pain filled your legs, they were so exhausted that not even a force artificially moving them was ignorant to pain, however you refused to let out a wince in a last efforts attempt to die pridefully. After you had been brought to your feet, your face still being squeezed by the pressure of his hands trying to observe you. "I'm sparing you, you could potentially be useful to us in the future, try anything and the last thing you will experience is my own fingers prying out those scarlet eyes of yours-- they're pretty expensive, you know? So by me letting you live, I'm being graceful, appreciate that." His words where so aggressive, but his tone was no more than neutral, monotoned. Your eyes widened with pure trepidation and fury, "how could he-, how did he have the nerve? Why me?"
You refused to answer, earlier, you had felt your pride somehow slip between your fingers like the cool water you had run your hands through right before you came back to the treachery of the current Kurta village, scattered in ruins, your kin screaming, but now, you would never let this man-- whoever he was-- whoever he thought he was, let him see you defenseless. You looked away immediately once his grip slipped a bit while talking, You just couldn't bear the physical sight of his retched face anymore. The girl who you now knew was Machi commented, "You're going to want to listen to Chrollo, kid, just nod and tell him you understand. It's for your own good, alright?" Her voice sounded stern, but if you listened closely, it almost sounded like empathetic begging, was she telling you this because she wanted your survival? Even after just offering to kill you?? You had felt a cloud of poisoned fog cover your mind, you had nodded even though you had no control of your own body anymore. It was beyond your grasp, it had slipped, you always felt like everything you held dearly would just.. Slip
It's funny, even to this day, 5 years later, how you wonder what would've happened if you hadn't let whatever was possessing your body that day in your state of helplessness take control of you and nodded in understanding for you, or if you had just re-gained your own autonomy for just a few seconds again to run a bit, that's all it was, just the tinniest bit faster, would you have saved everyone?? Would you haven't been caught, and led a life of being undetected by the troupe?? Slipping from their grasp instead of everything else slipping from your own.. There has been thousands of alternatives playing in your head of that day, and it has been since. You looked down at your hands again, and sometimes all you can see is your compassionate mothers dark clotted blood dripping down your guilty hands. Does she forgive me? You thought.
You peered over to the corner of your stomach to see your bandages, wrapped around you delicately, almost like they were there just to heal an injury. It covered your mid drift, but also your entire body that was visible to the prospectors naked eye. Your mind wondered even father, passed that subject, to think that on your body, a permanent mark left, irreversible, was a spider tattoo, that was what your bandages where covering, that was the sin it was hiding, not healing.
A/n- hey!! I hoped you all like it a bit more, re-reading it after I archived it I realized how truly terrible it was, I spent some time revising and editing it, and I desire that it's fit to your liking! I will edit the other 2 chapters I had posted previously before changing this one, then after that I will start writing some more for anyone who is interested! Sorry this was so long, I wanted to make sure you guys, the delightful reader, understood the future plot leading from your personal backstory. Thank you!!
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"Your bandages, what are they for?" | Kurapika x Female Reader
FanfictionYou are the stand-alone survivor of the Kurta Clan massacre caused by the brutal hands of the Phantom Troupe, or so you thought... Being taken captive at only age 11 to become a useful member among the spiders, over the five year period you are see...