sunkissedndhoney
Seek Love
102 posts
20s| black | she/her |
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sunkissedndhoney · 15 hours ago
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sunkissedndhoney · 2 days ago
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The way this frame hit me in chapter 11.
In the first episode, we have the same scene, but from Momo's perspective. To Momo, Okarun is nobody. Just a boy she sees in trouble and whom she decides to help. His eyes are not reflected until he attacks her in the hallway and she screams at him.
It seems like he's just surprised or distracted. But in 11…
Oh, fuck!
He is shocked and can't look away from her. He can't believe that someone stepped in, helped him, and cared about him.
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sunkissedndhoney · 4 days ago
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short comic strip on them :)
he carried around a lighter for her, though he’d never admit it to himself or anyone else ^^;
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sunkissedndhoney · 4 days ago
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leech parents in their eel forms 🦈🐬
ok i know papa leech is always looking different each time im drawing him, im figuring it out 🙇🏻‍♀️
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sunkissedndhoney · 4 days ago
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short comic strip on them :)
he carried around a lighter for her, though he’d never admit it to himself or anyone else ^^;
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sunkissedndhoney · 7 days ago
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at age seven, isagi learns two things. one, universal truths are always in the present tense (his teacher told him so), and two, you kiss the people you love (his mom told him so). knowing these, he kisses you under the slide in the playground, because he loves you, at least as he understands it at his age.
at age sixteen, isagi decides two things. one, he will become the best striker in the world, and two, he still loves you, albeit a little more than his seven year old self previously thought. but instead of kissing you, he hugs you tightly before he boards the bus to blue lock, and he takes in all the details of you. he thinks of the smell of your shampoo and the melody of your laugh while he's there, but he never tells anyone that.
at age twenty eight, isagi achieves two things. one, he wins the world cup, and two, he gives you his last name. the kiss you share at the altar is wetter and saltier than the one you shared under the slide, thanks to your tears, but his feelings engrave themselves into your memory all the same. he kisses you again for good measure, much to everyone's amusement, and wonders how his love for you is meant to stay in the present tense when it exists in all past, present, and future tenses.
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sunkissedndhoney · 8 days ago
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OMG can you draw momo with maka clothes (form. Soul eater if you know the name?) I LOVE THE COLOR
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I ended up mixing everything a bit 🙂‍↕️
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sunkissedndhoney · 10 days ago
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doodles abt my unrealistic au where the troupe live together in a house and have a group chat. and they have to deal with hisoka.
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sunkissedndhoney · 10 days ago
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sunkissedndhoney · 23 days ago
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sunkissedndhoney · 25 days ago
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Burgeon - 3
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>Yan! Chrollo x Fem! Reader (Soulmate au)
>Warnings: blood, needles, stitches, Chrollo being a smart arse
>Word count: 4.8k
Part 1 I Part 2
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Lately, Chrollo has been getting numerous reminders of how the both of you are worlds apart. There are a considerable amount of differences between the two of you, and he could even claim to be opposites in some things. The situation he is in now is just an added proof.
Chrollo helps you swallow the painkillers with water, your previous sobs having died down into hiccups. Just as an added precautionary measure, he grabs one of the syringes filled with local anaesthesia that he keeps in the first aid box but is stopped by your fearful expression directed to the now unveiled needle.
“I understand that I’m not a medical professional, but I assure you that I know what I’m doing.”
Your eyes dart to the blood that still remains on the kitchen counter behind him before settling at the syringe in his hand, all the while gripping the edge of the bar stool tighter. In all honesty, Chrollo doesn’t understand why you’re hesitating. He’s helping you, cleaning and patching up your wound. Why are you so frightened?
When he grabs your trembling injured hand, you’re quick to stop him. Fresh, hot tears flow down your cheeks and Chrollo frowns at the sight. It took him so much to calm you down but it didn’t seem to last long.
“Wait, Chrollo…”
“What’s wrong?”
Your eyes are fixed on the needle, but you don’t respond.
“[Name]. I need to clean your wound. I’m aware that it hurts and it’s extremely unpleasant, but please. Let me help you.”
“I… I don’t…”
“What is it?”
More tears run down your cheeks as you open your mouth, eyes not at all budging from the object of their attention. “I don’t like needles.”
Ah. That’s… certainly not what he was expecting. He glances between your still bleeding palm and to your eyes, settling on the latter and smiles. Chrollo knows that sighing or such would upset you further since you might take it as him being annoyed with you.
“Close your eyes,” he requests. “It won’t hurt. The most you might feel is a little pinch.”
You still look hesitant. If his hands weren’t stained with your blood, he would’ve held your face. Nevertheless, he tries again. “It’ll be quick, and you won’t even feel it. This is local anaesthesia.”
A few more tears escape your eyes when you look at him. Sniffling, you close your eyes and hold onto his shirt with your other hand. Chrollo immediately seizes the opportunity to administer the dose, not aware of your increased panic.
When he asks you to open your eyes, he’s quick to give you a smile. “That’s all there was.”
Next, he asks you to hold his phone over the cut, the flashlight feature on it turned on. He had to tell you the code to be able to access his phone, but it’s not a problem. He’ll simply change it again.
Before diving into the cut with tweezers, he once again asks you to close your eyes. Chrollo may be ruthless, but it doesn’t mean he won’t commiserate with his soulmate.
The larger shard stuck in your flesh is his first victim. It is promptly pulled out and placed on the counter behind him with the rest of the broken glass. Then, Chrollo quickly gets rid of any other shards that shine under the light. Your faint hiccups catch his attention now and then, but he makes it a point to be quick.
Once the wound is cleaned, he lets go of your hand and reaches into the first aid box on his lap. Your horrified expression greets him when he holds up the thread and needle, puffy eyes ready to start weeping again at a moment’s notice.
“The wound is deep,” Chrollo states. “I need to stitch it closed or else it won’t heal.”
“Can it not heal on its own? Please? I… I don’t want any more needles.”
“...Are you that afraid of needles?”
Shyly, you nod your head and Chrollo almost chuckles at the preciousness.
“You don’t need to worry, darling. You trust me, don’t you? I promise to be gentle.”
Any protest that you may have is shushed by him, a smooth chuckle giving way to another request from him. “I’d like it if you closed your eyes again. It might be too much to watch.”
“Are you sure you can do this?”
“Of course. This isn’t my first time.”
As expected, you comply and close your eyes as Chrollo starts closing the wound. Every single time the needle goes through your flesh, a chill goes down Chrollo’s spine and tingles the tips of his fingers and toes. It’s illogical and a tad bit annoying, but he doesn’t let the feeling deter him.
When halfway through, a bit of blood starts oozing out of the cut again. It pools in your palm and Chrollo’s chest constricts at the sight. Simply stitching an insignificant wound like this is making him uncomfortable. This never occurred before…
He shakes his head. Once the stitches are complete, he cleans your hand again before wrapping it in bandages. Every single action makes him uncomfortable - chills down his spine, teeth clenched, nervous gulps and throat constricting - and he has no concrete reason for it. 
Chrollo tries his hardest to ignore your flushed face and puffy features and simply gets to tidying up the numerous glass shards on the counter. In all honesty, he’s absolutely dumbfounded on how you could have caused this. You had gone into the kitchen to get a glass of water while he was messaging a troupe member and the next thing he knew, you started screaming.
Perhaps he should place a new, temporary rule. One that would set the kitchen off-limits. However, all that should come after he interrogates and scolds your clumsiness. Do you not realise how careless you are? Does it not bother you that seeing you crying and quite obviously in pain hurts him as well?
Wait…
So those feelings were that of hurt?
The conclusion makes sense. Chrollo had realised halfway through the stitch that piercing a needle through the skin of your soulmate doesn’t allow any sort of indifference to remain in yourself. It pains you just as much as it may pain them.
He sighs. His index finger and thumb touches the drops of blood on the counter. Unlike the warm red that oozed from your hand, this is cold. The blood on your palm… oh dear. The injury is bound to leave a scar, isn’t it? The texture he loved is a tad bit ruined, but he supposes that he’ll cherish it either way.
When chrollo is done throwing away the glass, he begrudgingly washes his hands and cleans the counter. In the beginning, Chrollo was afraid that the initial passion that drew him to court you - ahem, after he took you away - would fade, like how Kierkegaard states, but for Chrollo, it simply grew. 
He blames it on the connection you two share.
Even now, as you look out the window, hand cradled near your chest, Chrollo can’t help but feel… conflicted. On one hand, he craves to go to you and hold you close in a protective grip, but at the same time he wishes to scold you over your carelessness like he would any of his troupe members.
In the end, he settles for a mix of both.
The first thing he does when he settles next to you on the carpet is slowly exhale over you scooting away. After your bold display of talent with glass, Chrollo fails to understand why you would just scoot away like that. Didn’t he just comfort you and bandage your wound? Sure, you initially asked for a hospital, the ER more specifically, but he is more than capable of giving you first aid, so he did.
He calms himself down. Losing his composure is unlike him. Try again, Chrollo. 
He moves closer to you himself, and the little race continues until your side hits the glass and he has free reign to throw an arm over your shoulder. Finally successful in trapping you, he notes that you’re still trembling, so Chrollo soothes you by running his fingers over your hair.
“Your scolding comes later,” he warns. Chrollo pushes your head to rest on his shoulder, noting how you don’t resist him this time. 
Besides, you called him out on his attempts to subtly condition your mind. Of course you’ve been rejecting his advances harshly. When he first came to see your bleeding hand, he thought that perhaps he should have you apologise for your recent rudeness, but immediately decided against it.
Some silly pride can never compare to his soulmate. If nothing else, it would simply be daft of him to be smug when you’re obviously crying out in pain.
“Hey, Chrollo…?”
Your voice is a welcomed melody in his ears. Chrollo notices that you’re not looking at him, eyes still fixed at the view of the city and hand still cradled to your chest.
“What is it, dear?”
“How… how long will this take to heal?”
Before he could even think, a reply was already out of his mouth. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.”
With your pursed lips and furrowed brows, Chrollo concludes that you aren’t convinced. Well, he doesn’t blame you. When it comes to you, not even he can trust himself. So, he decides to lie like he always does.
"It won't take long. Just try not to use that hand for a few days. No flexing, no moving and no doing anything with it." He spins another lie, another false promise, and watches you relax from the corner of his eye. "I'll take care of you. I promise there are no games or tricks involved. This is serious to me, so you needn't worry."
A sniffle from you and Chrollo finds himself chuckling. You're too adorable sometimes. A slight overdose of painkillers, local anaesthesia and Chrollo's promise to take good care of you don't suffice to put you at ease. He almost feels too out of touch with your emotions when he recalls the last time he had to get stitches.
Pakunoda started the procedure straight after disinfection. No painkillers, no anaesthesia, nothing. Chrollo hadn't even bat an eye to it, yet when he saw you crying and panicking, his first instinct was to eradicate the pain.
And still you're bothered. Just how fragile are you? And why is such a fragile being bound to him?
Well, it doesn't matter. Taking care of you doesn't inconvenience him, and Chrollo could even claim that it brings him a certain feeling of contentment. That may just be the reason why he never questioned his decision to take you away.
However, he does sometimes find himself wondering about your Nen ability.  
You're quite docile at times, even obsequious, but the rest of the time you push him away, keep him at arm's length and demand he stay there. Rarely is he able to tiptoe closer, and even then you catch his attempts and place him back a few steps. It's frankly annoying, but Chrollo finds the reward of being in close proximity fulfilling.
You let him reward himself with sometimes being close to you, then later become distant and repeat the cycle. This facet of your being doesn't resonate with what your Nen ability is - or was - so Chrollo wonders if it has something to do with other facets of yourself.
The fact that you keep yourself so emotionally guarded is aggravating. He has you all to himself, yet he still can't pick your brain apart and understand you better. Why?
One day you allow him to speak to you, converse with you on something he recently read to get your opinion and you give it to him. But the next day you stop conversation altogether, only answering in short sentences and only when asked.
It's frankly quite maddening at times and the only thing keeping Chrollo from using Skill Hunter or psychological tactics is the fact that first of all, you caught on to his little Pavlov-ing scheme and second, he wants to thoroughly pick you apart.
However, seeing the situation on hand - pun intended - he may have gotten a chance to pry more into you. Perhaps this is a little push from fate itself.
"Have you ever gotten stitches before?"
The innocence with which you voiced your question is adorable. Are you really trying to get to know him better? How cute.
"I have actually," Chrollo replies. "But it was nothing like the stitches I did on you. My friend had disinfected the wound and dove straight in with the needle and thread."
You're still not looking at him. "Didn't that hurt?"
"It wasn't too bad."
Your lips press into a thin line. Slowly, you raise your head, moving Chrollo's hand with it and slump into his hold. "How can you say that? I saw the needle and I thought I was going to die."
The admittal makes him chuckle, and he almost forgets that you're injured and he was supposed to be scolding your carelessness. "That kind of thought never crossed my mind. Have I ever told you how cute you are?"
"Many times actually."
"Well," Chrollo drawls, "I hope to tell you that many times more."
You groan and Chrollo finds his heartbeat picking up the pace. It's illogical for it to do so in this situation, but he brushes off the oddity, blaming it on the events that just transpired. In retrospect, he should take full advantage of the situation and the fact that at this very moment you are allowing Chrollo to come closer.
So, he takes the opportunity and tiptoes closer. Quietly and hastily, he gets as close as he can.
"Have you ever gotten stitches before? Before this I mean."
You remain indifferent to his question, but mumble something he didn't quite catch before you answer. "Only once when I was a little kid."
"What happened?" 
"I tripped and fell on a rocky area. I don't remember where we were, just that the rocks were all blood. It was pretty long ago. I was a toddler, so I don't remember. Not even the scars on my knee remain."
Chrollo slowly snakes his hand around your waist, smiling when you don't point it out. "That must have been scary for you."
"Yeah," you breathe out. "My mom was terrified because I couldn't stop crying and the bleeding didn't stop."
"How were you as a child?" His hand gently rests on your hip. Warm and heavy, it makes you relax into him more as your injured hand falls to your lap. Chrollo eyes what he can see of your face even if it's not much. "I can imagine that you would have been a cute little kid."
You think for a few moments before answering him. "I've only seen pictures of myself, so I can't really say much because I don't remember most of my childhood. I guess you could say cute? As cute as an average toddler or kid is."
"Were you outspoken?"
"I don't remember, but my mom did say I was."
Your repeated confession of not remembering your childhood nags at Chrollo's brain, but he pushes the thought to the side for now, keeping it away for further contemplation for later. He recalls the pictures of you he found in your phone gallery. The child version he saw of you was something he thought about a lot. The wide smile and innocent eyes had changed into something else as you grew up.
It's almost unbelievable that the same child has later gone to kill someone. Alas, Chrollo has no right to call it unbelievable. Circumstances change and who knows how you were brought up.
"What were you like as a kid, Chrollo?"
"Nothing special," he replies. "I want to hear more about you. Why don't you remember anything about your childhood?"
For the first time in very long, you willingly look up at him while he has his hands on you. Chrollo's palm slightly moves against the fabric of your shirt as your body slightly shifts, the action making him painfully aware of the curve of your hip under his palm. The eyes that meet his suffice to halt his breathing for a few seconds, but Chrollo finds himself enjoying that feeling.
The most rewarding of all, however, is the sight of your lips moving to allow you to form words.
"I don't know." Your voice is hushed, breathy. It's almost as though you've already tired yourself of this thought countless times before and wish not to do the same again. "And I'm not lying. I really don't know. Isn't it normal? I mean, as children we don't remember everything. Isn't it normal to not remember anything at all?"
Chrollo thinks over your question. He personally remembers the majority of his childhood and so do the other troupe members. The only explanations he can think of is either memory loss or suppressed memories due to traumatising events. For some reason, he wishes that it's the former.
"It's not normal."
You sigh. "I guess so."
Eye contact breaks and once again you slump in his hold. The warmth of your body envelopes Chrollo's side as you snuggle into him, and he grabs the opportunity with the desperation of a starving man. Palm previously on your waist, it travels upwards to briefly rest and then travels downwards. Chrollo repeats the up and down motion till you relax even further.
Silence ensues, but it's short lived. Chrollo's hand is removed from your hip by you but immediately put around your shoulders as you move impossibly closer to him. Almost instinctively he lets his hand wander to your hair, fingertips lightly massaging your scalp as you sigh.
The both of you remain like that in silence until Chrollo hears your breathing grow slower and feels your body go completely lax. With the simple skin to skin contact he just had with you, Chrollo thinks his itch for physical touch has been assuaged. Unfortunately for you, he feels another kind of need growing.
-
It takes a lot for Chrollo to tuck you into bed.
He was so occupied by the fact that you had finally allowed him to touch you so carelessly, even going as far as to snuggle up to him, that he absolutely did not want to part with your warmth. Alas, life is cruel and he had to put you to bed.
Now sitting in the darkness of the living room, Chrollo again goes through your phone's gallery. He stops at the pictures of you as a child and just stares. He doesn't understand why he's doing this, but he is.
He can't take his eyes off of the picture.
So much has changed, but why? What happened in your upbringing that led to your moral compass being so odd? Yes, you've committed murder even if you repeatedly call if self defence, but you don't seem too particularly bothered about it. Chrollo would have brushed that contradiction off if it wasn't for what you said earlier.
'Isn't it normal to not remember anything at all?'
Maybe that's how you had coped with the gap in your memories. But, he shakes his head, that is not what he needs to do.
Skill Hunter is conjured into Chrollo's right hand, and he stares at the cover in the darkness. He hadn't used your ability after he took it so there's a few questions he wants answered. He just isn't sure whether using the ability will answer anything.
Regardless, pages flip and a page containing your picture opens up. His sight instantaneously changes into something more overwhelming, something brighter and sharper.
Chrollo can see every single ray of light peeking through the curtains while any and every white light is now consisting of rainbows. 
The darkness turns into normal lighting for him, and he raises a brow at how even the curtains look like they're illuminated.
After a few more moments of staring at the changes in his sight, Chrollo looks at his left arm. He imagines the Ben's knife he usually uses and before he knows it, it's conjured into his hand with no effort at all.
The sight of the white, translucent knife in his hand makes him recall your dishevelment from conjuring your dead friend’s head.
If something like this happens to an ordinary civilian who has no knowledge of Nen then it’s practically guaranteed to chip away at their sanity until they isolate themselves. However, you actively attempted to understand it better. The books you had picked out at the library are proof.
Chrollo even thinks he figured out how you may have killed that man.
Deep in thought, Chrollo subconsciously starts twirling the Ben’s knife in his hands. It feels exactly the same as the one he owns and even the sharpness is the same but the colour is, well, different. Considering that conjuring something so easily like this is possible, he figures the ability is more handy than he thinks.
The sound of a door’s hinges silently creaking registers in Chrollo’s mind, but before he reacts to the sound, footsteps rush from one corner of the living room to another. Skill Hunter is instinctively closed, his aura flaring in defence as he gets up and faces the source of the loud croak.
Chrollo sees you standing in front of the now open window. Panting heavily, terror is painted across your countenance as you attempt to guard the open window with your body. His eyes briefly flicker to your injured hand hanging by your side before they rest on your face.
When his aura dies down, you relax a little bit, but Chrollo doesn’t miss the way you’re looking at Skill Hunter.
“[Name],” he says, “I got startled. Why are you up at this hour?”
Voice shaking, you hardly get words out. “You… put away that book… please…”
“Book?” Chrollo glances at his right hand for a moment. “Do you mean Skill Hunter?”
“Put it away!”
Wordlessly, Chrollo does as told. You immediately relax when the book disappears, but the guarded exterior hasn’t mellowed down. The room starts getting warmer due to the open window and Chrollo has to fight back the urge to go and close it himself. There’s a reason people use the AC in summers.
However, as soon as he takes one step, your breathing stops for a moment. He stops in his tracks and in the overwhelming silence of the apartment, Chrollo thinks he can almost hear your wildly pounding heart. You’re still guarding the window with your body which serves to further confuse him.
“You should close the window.” He sighs when you don’t respond. “The AC is on.”
You raise your bandaged hand to your chest, eyes intently watching him. “You won’t summon the book again, right?”
“Why would I do that?”
You bite your lip, seemingly hesitant to trust him, but step away from the window regardless. Dull footsteps accompany your little run to the bedroom, leaving Chrollo standing there confused. What was that?
After closing the window, he decides to gingerly approach the bedroom, opening the door as gently as he can. Contrary to what he thought, you’re currently curled into yourself under the cover. The only proof of your presence underneath it is the big bump.
Chrollo sits himself on the edge of the bed and waits for any reaction from you.
There is none.
Thus, he does what comes to mind: pull off the cover.
Your surprised face greets his smiling one as you sputter out your words, usual confidence and indifference having not yet returned.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Checking on you,” he smiles. “You were acting odd earlier. What was that about?”
Your expression morphs into one of indignance, body halfway sitting up but still somewhat lying on your side. “That’s not important.”
“It is to me. You were clearly upset over something and frazzled.”
“I woke up and saw your book. Of course I was upset.”
“You’re not telling me everything.” Chrollo leans towards you, smile widening when he sees you shrink into yourself closer to the headboard. You’re being intimidated and cornered. That’s good.
“You… you don’t need to know everything.” With that, you grab the cover and pull it towards you to cover yourself, but he stops you short of the action. Chrollo’s grip is stronger, so you end up pleadingly looking at him in hope he’d let go.
He does not.
“You’re my soulmate,” Chrollo states, slowly scooting closer. “I’m obligated to protect and cherish you. That includes taking care of you which in turn includes knowing why you are upset with things so that I can deal with them.”
“I thought you said you only wanted to do whatever you wanted.”
He tilts his head playfully. “I placed that obligation on myself.”
Again, you try to pull the cover toward you only to shriek when a strong pull from Chrollo causes both it and you to land closer to him. The harsh tug almost makes your injured hand hit the mattress but you manage to save it. The glare you send him is enough proof of your added displeasure.
“Sorry.” Letting go, he scoots even closer to you and gently grabs the bandaged hand, placing it in his lap. If your open mouth and widened eyes are anything, you’re probably surprised at the bold action.
Patient as ever, Chrollo gives another try to his pursuit of figuring out the cause behind your unexplained distress. “What’s wrong? You’re not telling me everything.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I am your destined other half.”
“How romantic.”
“And now you’re dodging the question.”
You groan and Chrollo finds himself chuckling at that.
“It’s nothing,” you mumble, quite obviously not in favour of telling him anything. “That book creeps me out. That’s all.”
The admittance frankly amuses him. “It creeps you out? That’s a surprise. It’s just a book.”
“Don’t forget what you made me witness.” All emotion drains from your face. Eyes distant, you look at Chrollo with what he can only describe as condemnation. “Just because a few months have passed doesn’t mean I forgot.”
Ah. You must be referring to Indoor Fish. Chrollo admits he went too far with that one, yet he didn’t think you would hold it against him. How cute.
“I thought you would’ve forgotten about it.”
You scoff. “Well that’s a stretch.”
Chrollo narrows his eyes. You’ve been oddly chatty ever since your injury. Is there something up your sleeve or are you indulging him because you have no other choice? Maybe he’s reading too much into it, but there is always room for surprises when it comes to you. Despite how enervated you may seem at times Chrollo knows you’re observing and making note of everything.
Unfortunately for you, so is he.
“You ran to the window right when the door opened. I didn’t notice it at first, but I did.” His hand gently holds your injured one’s wrist. A silent threat, one that he wouldn’t dare go ahead with but a threat nonetheless. “Considering normal human reaction times and the fact that you just woke up, you shouldn’t have been able to so quickly see Skill Hunter in my hand and act accordingly in the same second that you opened the bedroom door.”
You still. Whether it’s from his grip on your wrist or his blatant statement of your actions not adding up he can’t tell. After a few seconds of silently staring at each other, you capitulate while biting your lip. 
“I was… well… I was going to get some water, but I stopped when I opened the door just a crack. My hand was throbbing and I was debating having to talk to you. That’s when I saw you through the little gap and something white in your hand.” You nervously look away, hand fidgeting with the bedsheet under your palm. “I saw the book and panicked.”
“So you were watching me?” Maybe he shouldn’t have been so absent minded, but it’s not like you have the power to do anything. 
“I wasn’t watching you. Heck, I didn’t even ‘watch’. I saw the book and went primal. That’s it”
“Hm.”
Chrollo bends to look at your face. When your eyes meet, you’re quick to move back but his grip on your wrist stops you. The fact that he’s grabbing your injured hand so close to the stitches must have unnerved you because you immediately relax yet you’re still wary.
Despite all that, Chrollo lets you go with a smile and stands, eyeing how confused you look at him.
“You said you wanted water, right?”
“Well… um yes?”
He takes a step back, turning around to leave the room. “I’ll get you some. Stay here.”
Your injury may have led to you being a little too uncharacteristically honest and chatty, but it’s all in his favour. When it comes to you, fate hasn’t done Chrollo wrong yet, and he decides to uphold that.
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sunkissedndhoney · 25 days ago
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Burgeon - 2
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>Yan! Chrollo x Fem! Reader (Soulmate au)
Warnings: Chrollo being as starved as a mediaeval man who has never seen ankles, manipulation (specifically Pavlov-ing), idioms with a little gore
Word count: 4.3k
Part 1 I Part 3
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The midnight breeze is something that Chrollo has been appreciating more and more recently. It plays the role of a refresher, something that eases his mind and relaxes any agitation he may have been accumulating. If anything, it makes him more… 'tame' for you.
Had he not had the chance to let the wind blow through his hair, he would've snapped at you to head back inside even with the blanket you're currently wrapped up in. But for now, Chrollo figures that you've earned this, even if you had been sick just a few days ago.
Chrollo can feel the way you eye how he rests his body completely against the railing with no regard for his safety. He can even declare with confidence that you're imagining him accidentally falling off, despite his back being turned to you. It's the way he can feel you tense up when he leans against it further that gives it away.
Such an interesting person. You had told him just two days ago during your sickness that you wished for him to die, yet now you're worried about him falling. The mind is more honest during sickness and sleep, so both reactions and claims are correct. Which one are you more inclined to, he wonders.
When you finally decide to take the step that brings you to the terrace instead of keeping you on the noncommittal line between it and the bedroom, he finds himself still staring at the city below him. A thought suddenly popped into his mind as it has remained idle for the past few minutes.
Were you not in deep sleep when he left the bed?
You were so soundly asleep that Chrollo found it rude to even think while laying next to you, the possibility of you waking up because of his possibly troubled thoughts was something he did not want to come true. That is why he, insomnia at its peak, had left for the balcony. To seek the refreshing cool air of approaching autumn.
And to, of course, not wake you up by accident.
However it seemed it backfired, for you've carefully taken a few steps towards him but stopped because you started shivering. Ah, such a fragile little thing. Don't you know that vulnerability is a predator's favourite?
Chrollo allows you to watch him in silence. Even with his back being turned to you, he is perfectly capable of feeling your eyes on him, and right now they're staring at his back in hesitance and perturbation.
"Can't sleep?"
Your question has no purpose being voiced, for you're well aware of how little sleep he usually gets. He goes to bed with you but falls asleep after you and wakes up before you. Even if that wasn't Chrollo's normal sleep cycle, he would've changed it to be so because having the luxury of being able to watch over you during one of your most unguarded, most vulnerable and most tempting moments is something he would never pass up on.
"Are you worried?" He tilts his head to face you who are now right by his side albeit a few steps away. "My, how thoughtful of you."
"Please stop smiling like that. It's creepy."
He chuckles, mirth evident in the crinkles around his eyes. "Why don't you teach me how to smile in a not so creepy way? Yours is beautiful, effulgent even. I'm sure I can learn a few things from you."
Such bashfulness you show. With the way your jaw tenses and you avert your eyes, Chrollo almost loses the sensation of the cool breeze in favour of soaking in the adorable expression on your face.
When you give no response, he goes back to the scenery in front of him. Chrollo's body once again relaxes against the railing, and his mind travels over to how any regular citizen would be in deep sleep at this very moment. They would be resting, oblivious to the crimes taking place at this hour. That sort of obliviousness is something he finds intriguing.
Chrollo's body melts into the balcony railing, his face being held up by his hands. You, however, seem a bit horrified at the position.
"Hey! Um… be careful. You might fall."
The railing is by no means short, so your paranoia most likely stems from the fall to the ground. Well, you're concerned and about him no less. He's flattered.
"I'm being serious, you idiot. You're going to fall."
He smiles, eyes still fixed on the city, "An interesting proposition."
"Well then," you scoff, "if you do fall, it'll just do me a favour by killing you."
"I suppose you're right. Love and infatuation are both poisons in their own way."
"..."
"You don't like my philosophy?"
Grey eyes stare into yours awaiting an answer. The demeanour is almost puppy-like, cute even.
"You know, you're the antidote to this poison," he states. "A ludicrous fact, but a fact nonetheless."
"Chrollo, I swear if you are trying to be Mr. Darcy at this very moment, I am obliged to remind you that you sound as creepy as an old man giving candy to a little girl."
"And what's so wrong with giving candy to little children?"
"Exactly!"
You back away a few steps, intently watching if he does more than just turn around to look at you. The way his hair dances in the light breeze makes you pause for a moment before you regain your voice. "I hope you do fall, off the railing that is."
As you waddle inside with the blanket still wrapped tightly around your figure, Chrollo suppresses a smile. Perhaps this is why destiny had given you to him. When you're not sulking or rebelling against him on every breath he takes, you make for quite amusing company even if it is out of capitulation.
Chrollo ought to wait out here until you're asleep. That way, he'll be able to kiss you goodnight without any protests.
-
The device in Chrollo's hands taunts and ridicules him. Though switched off, merely looking at it is a daunting task, for he is well aware of what he will find. Carefully, Chrollo switches it on, smiling at the wallpaper of the street cat you had mentioned before he took you.
The gallery icon on your phone's home screen calls to him like a siren's song, but Chrollo practises self restraint and instead lets all the notifications pile up before putting the device on aeroplane mode. He had initially removed anything that could allow GPS tracking of the device but hadn't bothered to check if anyone was worried about you.
Well, you did make it on the news. He wouldn't be surprised if there was a search operation for you as well, but what does he know? He took you and left the city after a week. How they dealt with you supposedly going missing is their problem, not his.
Chrollo checks your social media accounts one by one, going through the chats and messages. One particular male's chat history is specially ticking him off, the absurd confidence he exudes for someone of such low calibre and his attempts at subtly flirting with you are almost pitiful.
Thankfully, you don't seem interested by how your responses are worded. Another point to himself. Not a single contact in your phone except for your parents is important. Speaking of parents, Chrollo wonders if he could have gotten along with them well.
Well, to get along with them would mean having to risk you running away since forming a relationship with them requires you to be free. Nevermind then. He'll remain as is.
Though your chat history with your mother wasn’t on the top, a message from her had caught his eye immediately. ‘I miss you,’ it read. It’s possible she sent it to your contact in order to seek closure. It doesn’t matter. You were destined for him and with him you shall be.
The sound of the bathroom door opening doesn't affect Chrollo's work. He continues in his pursuit, all the while eyeing you, hair wet and nape completely exposed, as you quietly go inside the bedroom. Amazing. You missed his presence on the sofa. How adorably oblivious.
Chrollo finally heeds and opens the gallery app on your phone, leg bouncing up and down in anticipation of what you may have there. In all honesty, the thought of raiding your phone hadn't crossed his mind before. He had originally kept it, although switched off, to keep an eye on who might be messaging you during your disappearance.
The chat you had with him is something he also went through. Chrollo found it to be a bittersweet reminder of how pitiful inexperience can make a man.
He scrolls down, immediately looking away when he finally finds pictures of you. The pictures are… too much for his taste. He's afraid that the smile you have in those pictures might cause a little 'problem' to rise or perhaps a blush, and he would rather not have you see him like that yet, especially if the pictures aren’t even anything scandalous.
Nevertheless, he scrolls down further, making a mental note to come back to those specific ones later when you're busy or asleep. More pictures of you appear, some with only you and some with your parents or friends. Chrollo scans over each and every single one, telling himself he will get back to those later and then questioning why he's continuing if he will return eventually.
Sifting through more photos, he finds a few that catch his immediate interest.
Baby photos. And… is that you as a toddler? How precious. Seems like your radiant smile has been a constant in your life. Ah, even as a child you were so full of life. Chrollo wonders what happened while growing up to create someone capable of murder, not that he can judge.
"What're you smiling like a creep for?"
A hand reaches to touch his lips, and he feels that they are in fact curled into a smile. So your smile is contagious even with photos? As expected of his soulmate.
"No really. You look creepy. Knock it off. Plus, having a phone in hand seems out of character for you."
Chrollo hums to himself, pleased that you don’t recognise the device in his palm. "You seem to be in a good mood. What might be the occasion?"
Having you initiate conversation with him all on your own is a sign that you don't feel any malice towards him for the time being. Emphasis on 'for the time being'.
Eyes follow the trail of a stray drop of water as it travels down your neck, over the curve of your collarbone and disappears into your shirt. It takes a lot of willpower for him to not comment on it because any sliver of bare skin is absolutely irresistible.
"None," you reply. "Unlike you, I'm not a pretentious prick all the time."
Pocketing the phone, he crosses his legs. However, Chrollo immediately changes his mind, the image of your infectious smile still fresh in his brain, and gets up. Your eyes carefully observe his movements, body language loud on how you're ready to slip inside the bedroom if he does anything you disapprove of.
Calloused hands reach for your face, and despite your initial hesitance, you allow him to do as he pleases. The memory of the action's previous occurrences may have resurfaced to have caused your sudden compliance. As his palms make contact with your cheeks, he notices a slight flinch from you but favours to ignore it.
"[Name]."
"Y-yeah?"
His thumbs brush your cheeks tenderly, and he notices you eyeing his tattoo. "Do you have any idea of how precious you are?"
"Do you have any idea of how annoying you are?"
He tuts. "Here I am trying to appreciate you and ask you for a date, but you keep insulting me. How rude."
"Date? I'm not up for listening to you talk smack about a dead poet again."
"By date, I mean date. I'm planning to take you somewhere, but I'm yet to decide where that is."
He can feel the eagerness in your actions when you grab his wrists, eyes wide with disbelief. Perhaps he shouldn't tell such a cruel lie, but it's all in good intentions.
"Really? You're not lying to me?"
Thumbs brush your lips and your hold on his wrists tightens.
"Again, I am planning. You’re yet to earn my favour, dear."
The seed has been planted, and now Chrollo must only await it to germinate. If he throws in the idea that he will allow you to leave and explore the city with him if you behave, it might create more happenings where you happily converse and interact with him.
"What do I do?"
Amazing. Eager already.
Chrollo stares at you for a moment. The first time he held your face in his hands, he had done it to convince you of his feelings, to show that he does care for you unlike what you had claimed. After that, he had done it to express his biases towards you wearing his clothes or something he picks, all the while complimenting you, a perfect recreation of a scene in one of your favourite novels.
Perhaps that had brought something into your mind because the next time he had repeated the action, you expectantly looked at him and being his soft spot, Chrollo yielded to your charms and ended up allowing you to watch the evening news like you requested.
Maybe… if he keeps this up, you might be more responsive and willing towards his affection. If he fulfils one desire each time he holds you this way, he might trick your brain into seeking out his touch even if it is for your own selfish gain.
"What you must do," he says, "is, for starters, stay still."
"What do you-"
He leans in, but even with his initial aim of your lips, suddenly goes to kiss your forehead. The affectionate gesture makes you freeze, and Chrollo smiles to himself while kissing each cheek as well.
He knows what you're thinking. If you want to see the city, feel the fresh air and finally get out of his presence for even a short while, you must let him do as he pleases. You're an open book to Chrollo but the opposite for the other way around.
With how easy you are to read, it's quite easy to rile you up. Nonetheless, if he keeps this up for longer, he may very well have you seek him out.
And there is nothing he covets right now more than for you to approach him yourself.
-
Chrollo sometimes wonders how you can sleep so carelessly next to him. There must be something fundamentally and deeply wrong with your brain to have fallen asleep like any other regular night even after witnessing a man being eaten alive by indoor fish, let alone in the same bed as the man who had admitted his crimes to you and also said that he does not regret any of them.
Will you continue to sleep so soundly after finding out about the troupe? Will you push him away? Go for the couch? Or will you remain unaffected?
He does harbour great curiosity about your upbringing and why you remain desensitised to such matters in the long run. An initial reaction to the act is perfectly normal and so is restlessness and a lack of peace of mind later, but you don’t seem to experience the latter other than the nightmares you had about the murder you committed. Ironically, even those had ceased after a few weeks.
While taking your Nen ability, he had come across a kind of darkness in your soul that had originally come from your mind. Did you witness violence while growing up? It was the kind of apathetic that a killer would usually nurture, but you seem to have empathy for everyone as well. It could be subjective. That would explain why you had chosen to claim that the man you killed was guilty of your late friend’s death when you had awoken from a nightmare you had after he took you in.
What’s worse is that the more time he spends with you, the less he has to think about his reactions. The most recent example is when the other day you had come to the balcony after him at night. Chuckling and smiling had come to him without a second thought when he jokingly asked you to teach him how to smile. It’s peculiar because he usually has to think over what reaction he should have in a scenario before displaying it.
Perhaps that is simply what it means to be with your soulmate. Chrollo is well aware that most of his expressions are fake and shallow but his sentiments are not. He was right in the beginning. You may just hold the key to him understanding himself better.
A groan and you stir in your sleep, eliciting Chrollo’s attention to your sleeping form once more. It did feel rather odd to share a bed with you at first, but he quickly grew accustomed. Another one of your many mysteries is why you didn’t bother refusing him when you started waking up to see him next to you in bed. It slowly developed into going under the covers together, another development you didn’t comment on, but you never allowed him to hold you at this time.
It could be that you don’t trust him, but despite all the crimes he has committed, he would never disrespect you in such a way. Consent is important to Chrollo, but he doesn’t bother with whether it is given wholeheartedly or under pressure.
As his finger lightly traces your collarbones, he adjusts his position and sits up. He could condition your mind into experiencing positive emotions after him touching you. It would be the same as how he has held your face in his hands and said something to make you happy. That way, you would associate the feeling of his skin to an influx of dopamine and actively seek out the addictive rush of hormones, consequently seeking him out.
A simple task in theory, but not near such in practice. You’re smart and you may catch on, especially when he considers that in highschool, an institution you have attended, students are made familiar with the scientist whose work he’s trying to recreate. Well, it’s not a hindrance. Challenges are fun, even more so when you are involved.
-
An idea that Chrollo had while waking you up in the morning is repeatedly nagging him mentally. It’s simple and easy to execute, but that isn’t what’s holding him back. How you may react is the problem.
During your fever, you were extremely explicit and straightforward in expressing your displeasure and animosity towards him. It had taken a few days even after your recovery to completely calm down, or at least to the extent that he could breathe without you having to complain about it.
Thinking about it now… you were kind of feisty during that period. Hm. Maybe even more… ‘desirable’.
No. Chrollo, you’re getting sidetracked.
There will be plenty of time to ponder over ways to tame you when you’re being rebellious and how to thoroughly enjoy it. For now, focus. How can you be riled up to the degree of spouting profanities but without any extreme anger? Would insulting your taste in books do it? No, you would probably bite back by calling him pretentious and be done with it.
Think.
What is one thing he can use to distress you and then subsequently use to de-escalate and soothe you? Your parents? Your friends? Who more do you have a close relationship with?
Ah…
That’s right.
“[Name]?”
You merely grace him with a questioning hum, face buried in the book he finished reading last night. Seriously. When will you get over trying to make fun of his tastes?
Chrollo rests his cheek on his fist, legs crossed on the sofa. You’ve hoarded the single seater one in hope that he wouldn’t seat himself next to you. How petty.
“Can you pause your reading? I have something I’d like to ask you”
“Done scheming?” You peek over the edge of the book before closing it and setting it aside. “Fine. Let’s hear what diabolical plan you’ve cooked this time.”
Chrollo raises a brow. “Diabolical plan? That’s a hefty accusation.”
“I’m not wrong though.”
“I suppose. Well, I was actually thinking over whether or not I should ask you this, but I settled on doing it. The conversation might just make our relationship less rocky.”
The explanation seems to have succeeded in capturing your attention, so Chrollo continues.
“Do you recall when you said that you wouldn’t be opposed to being with me? I was just wondering where that enthusiasm went. Do you not like me anymore?”
You narrow your eyes at him accusingly. “Why ask me now?”
“It’s been weighing on my mind for quite some time now. I suppose I just couldn’t help myself at the moment.”
“Well,” you drawl, “I didn’t realise back then that you were hiding so much from me. That too, important information. Had I known that you’re a criminal, I would’ve gone the other way.”
“Criminal? Darling, you’ve also killed a man.”
Suddenly, all your confidence is gone and you start sputtering out your words. “T-that was self-defence. Plus, he was the reason why she died. I-if it wasn’t for him-”
“Initially, you excused your crime by calling it self-defence, but now you claim it to be some sort of score settle since he led to your friend’s death? All I see here are excuses to escape the guilt, but we’re getting off topic. You are no better than I am, so why did your standing change?”
Chrollo’s argument seems to have dumbfounded you because all you do is stare at him with wide eyes. The curve of your nose, the tremble of your lower lip, the lashes framing those beautiful glossy eyes and the accentuation of your collarbone when you lean forward. During the time your brain wracked for a response, he did a once over of all those features, feeling particularly strong about how your eyebrows frame your overall expression.
As fulgent as you are, even during your lowest moments Chrollo will have to fight the urge to ruin whatever radiance may remain underneath your skin. Perhaps that is why he finds himself pitiful and mad when it comes to you. Just what is it about you that makes him claw your name off of his skin? What is the matter with those eyes that peer into his being, ripping off skin and flesh and settling between his bones, that makes him want to simply tattoo over his name on your back so that the entire world can see it?
Destiny is an awful thing, but Chrollo is equally as awful.
“Even if you reject me,” he says, slowly moving towards you, “you would never escape. Fate has handed you to me on a silver platter, and I would have to be dead to let you go.”
Chrollo has been proven wrong. You are in no way the key to understanding himself better. Instead, you are the means. If the changes you have brought to him in the short amount of time you have been with him are so significant, then it must only mean that he’s done something right. The fact that his heart beats faster in your close proximity rather than only during heists is just one of the many proofs.
“This isn’t how soulmates should be.”
“It isn’t? Enlighten me then,” he challenges. With both his hands on either armrest, he cages you to the seat, leaning in just a few inches away from your unnerved expression. “You are supposed to love me and I am supposed to love you. Simple enough.”
“No… this love… isn’t right.”
You’re cracking. Wonderful. This agitated look is simply enchanting with your intoxicating features. If he wasn’t aiming to recreate another gesture from one of your romance novels, he would have certainly taken advantage of your almost petrified state.
“Why not? Soulmates are supposed to live for the other person. What’s so wrong about staying with each other?”
Perhaps any sort of conviction you had has melted away, for all you’re doing is continuing to stare at him attentively. Is he too close? That would explain how guarded your body language is, but the way he’s leaning into you is supposed to fluster you. Hm, the conversation topic might have not been a good match. Oh well.
Chrollo retreats and decides that it’s time to put his theory to the test. Maybe he did get carried away and induce fear instead of anger but either two are negative emotions so it really shouldn’t matter. As he crouches down in front of you, he notices how you tense up. Gently, he holds your face in his hands again and waits for every fraction of a second for a reaction.
When you subconsciously relax under his touch, Chrollo is forced to suppress a grin.
“You’re safe with me, [Name]. No harm will ever come to you.”
The rollercoaster of emotions you just experienced must have given you whiplash because even now you don’t respond. However, Chrollo can feel how you physically relax. When he brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, you almost melt into his hands, but judging from your expression, you must be confused about the sudden security and contentment you feel.
Fate really must have a personal grudge with you for tying you to a man like Chrollo. To him, you’re a knife lodged inside his chest, but despite how much he may bleed, he will twist it further inside until it absolutely demolishes his heart. And even then, he will smile.
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sunkissedndhoney · 25 days ago
Text
Burgeon
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A chance encounter that barely lasted seconds plants curiosity into Chrollo's mind. After searching for you, Chrollo decides to keep himself entertained, but being called to a blood splattered scene causes his initial plan to derail.
>Yan! Chrollo x Fem! Reader
Soulmate au where either person experiences the other's emotions prior to their name appearing on their body. Only Nen users are able to see those names.
>Warnings: blood, murder, someone being eaten alive, mentions of domestic abuse and suicide, premarital hand holding, Chrollo being a creep
>Word count: 10.5k (kind of a slow burn)
Part 2 I Part 3
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Fear was not a familiar emotion to Chrollo. If anything, the closest he's acquainted with is excitement, thrill. It was the excitement in thievery that he looked forward to the most, that he relished the most.
Not even three skilled Nen users could make him bat an eye. One pen was all it took to end them, no Nen at all. So why was it that when you both locked eyes through the smoke he felt fear?
The way his heart pounded was a foreign feeling. You were just a passerby, someone who had to stop for cover because a car had exploded seemingly out of nowhere. The culprit, Chrollo, stood on the other side of the wreck as his spiders fled.
Clutching his heart, he imprinted the feeling in his memory, from the way his heart was beating out of his chest to how he was seemingly frozen in place. It was when your eyes widened in horror that he broke out of the trance and moved again.
The next time you blinked, he was gone.
As if the timing couldn't be more convenient, Chrollo couldn't sleep that night.
His troupe members had passed out after getting heavily intoxicated, and he was left alone with his thoughts. Another heist was successful, yet he felt incomplete. Is this another facet of himself he has to discover? To figure out?
No. It was the encounter he had. It was something about those eyes that deeply disturbed him. Could you be a Nen user? It's possible, but if you were, he would've known. You looked… normal.
Either way, it was just eye contact. He will never see you again, so there's no point in overthinking it. As Chrollo calms his mind to slip into slumber, the feeling from before returns. Dread and fear seeps into his being like water does a sponge. A few hours later, his mind finally allows him to rest.
-
Chrollo was wrong. He was so unmistakably, so horribly wrong.
It has been hardly three days since the heist, and he's already come across you again. Curse this. If you recognise him, it might prove to be a problem. Killing this many people in the library would be a hassle as the authorities would come to realise that the Phantom Troupe is still in the city.
No matter. He'll continue what he was doing. If you do have the gall to approach him, he'll quietly deal with you.
As he mindlessly grabs a book from the shelf, he concentrates on your presence. You seem to be somewhere in the science section. Perhaps you're a student? That would explain why you're diligently looking all over. It must be something particular.
Chrollo stays out of sight and seats himself in a corner. The table fortunately has only one chair and from there, he can see the rest of the floor. If anything, his appearance reassures him. His hair is down, a cloth wrapped on his forehead and his clothing is just as normal as anyone else's.
Okay maybe it doesn't entirely fit the description of an average citizen. It leans towards the more 'pretentious' side as Phinks had once said. However, it doesn't stand out so nothing to worry about.
Why are you coming this way?!
Oh wait. Your belongings are on that table over there to the right. Great. Just great. You're sitting on the table to his right and facing him. Ah, at least you're looking into that book you have. Wait, what is he reading? Did he even bother to check what he grabbed?
It was in the literature section, so it ought to be something interesting. No matter. He'll just multitask. If he feels your eyes on him, it'll be likely that you recognise him. In case that does come to pass, he shall immediately exit the premises.
Chrollo immerses himself in the book. He didn't bother to read the title, satisfied at seeing Friedrich Nietzsche as the author, and started going through the words. The priority at the moment is to keep an eye on you, and keeping an eye on you he is because his book is now forgotten as he side eyes you at the disruption of aura.
Grey eyes carefully consider how you channel the flow of aura in your body. It's practised and genius how easily you've manipulated it to flow and concentrate under your palms. However, before Chrollo has a chance to even think about what sort of Nen user you may be, you abruptly stand up.
Grabbing the books and your bag in a hurry, you head for the librarian to check them out. Chrollo slowly keeps pace, hiding behind a bookshelf when you're waiting for the librarian to do her job.
He can see the way apprehension oozes out of you, and he feels more drawn into you. Akin to an unlike magnetic pole, he follows after you, attracted, getting closer and closer each time only to snap out of it when he's a few feet behind you on the sidewalk.
Your bag is now swung over your shoulder, books hugged closely to your chest and eyes constantly darting around like you're looking for something. When you move to cross the road, Chrollo doesn't follow.
There has to be something wrong. This must be some sort of joke. All that stuff was just a fairytale, not reality. So why? Why did he feel overwhelming anxiety and apprehension when he was standing behind you? Why did your tapping foot settle down at that same time?
Why is there now a name written on his forearm?
Hopelessly trying to scrub it off while showering, he realises that it's there to stay. The realisation does little to assist in comforting him. All the evidence points to what he had deduced to be a simple folktale to be reality.
It's alright. Chrollo is a thief after all. The most business he has is to steal whatever Nen ability you have, if it proves useful that is.
-
There it is again. Anxiety.
Just being within eight feet of you brings about that feeling, but considering how your posture just relaxed, Chrollo finds that being within a certain radius of your 'soulmate' causes both parties to feel what the other feels, which in your case is anxiousness.
So he wasn't feeling fear that day after all. He was feeling what you were.
Regardless, Chrollo puts on a smile and casually takes a seat opposite to you in the coffee shop. It has been a real hassle locating you, so he isn't going to throw in the towel anytime soon.
The sound of a chair being dragged against the floor causes you to flinch, but you don't bother glancing up from what you're reading. Perhaps you're not very outgoing and would like to keep to yourself. He doesn't find any problem with that, for he can quite easily make conversation for two.
Chrollo clears his throat once, carefully eyeing you for a reaction and simultaneously calming his beating heart. Over the somewhat quiet atmosphere of the shop and his calm demeanour being transitioned over to you, you would have easily heard him. He tries again, but you give no response.
He tries a third time, and leans forward as he starts conversation. "I can't help but notice that you've been reading about the quantum properties of light. Are you a physics student?"
Slowly, like how the most grand and most precious merchandise is unveiled at an auction, you raise your head to meet his eyes. In an instant, he feels his heart wildly pound against his chest before his usual calmness is back.
"I'm… not a physics student," you reply, voice meek.
"Ah, someone interested in the topic maybe?"
The most Chrollo is rewarded with is a nod, and you immediately bury your face back into the book. That reaction was more than what he was hoping for, thus he won't complain.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, he decides to take his chances, using his gentlemanly exterior to smooth things over.
"Would you mind if I joined you this evening?" He smiles when you peer over the edge of your book. "I believe the book you're reading is of my interest. Do you want to talk about it over coffee?"
"Why?"
Playing hard, aren't you?
"Well, it would be nice to make friends in the city. Especially if they're like minded, right?"
Smile Chrollo. She might lower her guard.
You put down your book, watching him in consideration. Then, you call over a waiter and give your order, gesturing to Chrollo to do the same. A smile stretches on his face. Oddly enough, he hasn't felt any apprehension again, only mild nervousness at best.
Voice gentle, he starts conversing.
"Are you a college student?"
With narrowed eyes, you watch him carefully. "No. Far from it actually. What about you?"
Chrollo rests his chin on his hands, elbows on the table. "I'm just here for business. I keep an eye on auctions and merchandise. My job is to keep tabs on such matters."
"Alright… then why are you interested in what I'm reading?"
"Science is fascinating, isn't it?"
"You're lying."
Silence.
Chrollo cannot say if the calmness he feels is from you or him. What he can say for sure is that you're not as innocent as you seem. The cold gaze you have is proof of it.
With the grace of a swan, he sits up straight, smile still present on his face as he tries conversing again.
"Why do you think that I'm lying?"
"It's obvious," you reply.
Shaking his head, he keeps his voice soft. "Well, I couldn't just let a beautiful girl like you sit alone like this. Why not converse if we have mutual interest?"
"You're lying again, sir."
Somehow, being called sir makes Chrollo feel… alienated but still good nonetheless.
"My name is Chrollo. What about you?"
You consider him for a moment before you close the book in front of you. "I'm [Name]."
It takes all the composure he has to not let his eyes widen. That's the same name that appeared on his forearm. Perhaps choosing to encounter you was the right decision. You may be able to aid him in one way or the other.
"Well, [Name], truth be told, I felt oddly drawn to you, and I don't say this to be flattering. I really did feel drawn. That's why I approached you."
The waiter returns with the drinks, and he closely watches how you thank him with a smile. An odd feeling stirs in his chest, but Chrollo brushes it off as your emotion.
"Alright," you interrupt. "I have to say… you're pretty weird."
"I do hear that a lot," he chuckles.
"Hm." You lean forward, eyeing him closely. Chrollo sits unbothered at your peculiar behaviour. If anything, he's amused. He's finally found an interesting person with Nen no less. He could even claim that he's ecstatic.
"Is there something on my face?"
You shake your head and return to your seat. The both of you start drinking your drink in silence. However, you keep eyeing him closely and it's rather bothersome. Suddenly, like how a water balloon bursts when too heavy, you speak.
"I was just messing with you earlier, Chrollo. No hard feelings?"
He smiles, "None at all."
Silence once again persists, but is quickly replaced with conversation when most of Chrollo's coffee is gone. He starts with asking about your hobbies and slowly manoeuvres the conversation to hunters. Disinterest is palpably written on your face at the topic, but he pushes through.
"I've heard that hunters are very odd people. It's almost as though they're a completely different breed."
Bored, you trace random patterns on the table with your finger. "Yeah. They're all a little crazy in the head if you ask me. The exam is even worse from what I've heard."
"Are you interested in taking the exam?"
For a split second, Chrollo sees your aura change, but it quickly disappears.
"No," you deadpan.
You're tracing something on the table again, but why has your aura disappeared? Taking advantage of the pause in conversation, he uses Gyo to see if you may have used In. The technique is used for hardly a second, just long enough to know that you did use In, but judging from your disinterested gaze on him, you may have caught him.
"You can do that?"
Chrollo blinks, attempting to act coy. "Do what?"
"Don't act dumb, Chrollo. I saw that."
Amazing. You weren't even looking at him when he did. Has he found a formidable Nen user? Hm. He wonders what your Nen ability is.
With a flirtatious smile, he leans in. "You're quite talented if you found me out so easily."
"Are you a hunter?"
"Not at all."
An expression of deep thought is present on your face, eyes boring into the empty cup that sits in front of you. Chrollo lets you stay under the assumption that you have the power in this conversation. He lets you think and consider your next words carefully, feeling almost giddy at seeing this encounter through to the end.
"Do you know… what Nen is?"
Bingo. Chrollo has finally found an opening and the world be damned if he doesn't use it to his advantage.
"Of course I do," he replies, voice smooth and gentle to lull into a sense of security. "I've actually taught people about it before."
For some reason, you raise a brow at that and he laughs.
"No really. I have taught people before. Mostly my friends. Are you looking to understand it better?"
Cautiously but almost desperately, you give in. "Yes! I don't know what this weird thing is. I thought I was going crazy."
"Well, you've met the right person."
"Somehow I doubt that."
"Really?"
Your expression contorts into one of slight disgust mixed with overflowing annoyance. At the sight, Chrollo keeps his composure in case you may have recognised him or worse, seen through him. However, all panic goes down the drain when you bang your hand on the table.
"You look like you work a corporate nine to five! How are you supposed to be an expert?"
Relieved but still very, very confused, Chrollo slightly tilts his head, eyebrow raised under the bandana. "Are you… insulting me?"
"I'm stating the obvious." You settle down, slumping into your seat. "You better not be lying to me, Chrollo. Trust me, a lot of people already have."
"I promise. I will help you understand your ability better, and that's final."
For some reason, the way your eyes had lit up at that was kind of cute.
-
Chrollo is absolutely itching to confirm whether you're aware of the existence of his name on your body or not. It might be in some inconspicuous place like behind your knee that you don't look often, but the 'emotional exchange' should have been concerning if not completely odd.
Nonetheless, Chrollo marches on towards your apartment. Naive as you are, you had allowed him to come to your apartment just after a few days of being acquaintances. The credulous mentality you harbour is simply aiding him. Once he knows what your Nen ability is, he will steal it and be on his merry way, any soulmate talk be damned.
Before his finger could even meet the bell halfway, you've swung open the door. Chrollo stands there blinking at your haphazardness, and is immediately pulled inside by the wrist. You stand there in pitch black darkness, the main door stuck to your back like glue as all the curtains continue their purpose of blocking any light from the street.
Had this not been his first time here, he would have been able to navigate the place properly. Pushing aside his desire to eliminate the darkness a little bit, he calls out your name. Chrollo doesn't miss the way you flinch or the way your breathing gets worse.
"What's going on?"
His question further rattles you. Fisting your hair, you drop to your knees crying. What he can see of the sight makes Chrollo feel odd. Why aren't the emotions transferring back and forth between you both?
Being as frazzled as you are, wouldn't it be advantageous if your emotions were transferred to him instead? So why aren't they? Is there some sort of condition he isn't privy to?
You choke on your own wails, and out of something Chrollo brushes off as pity - totally ignoring the pang in his chest - he squats down and holds you. As though soothing a child, he keeps comforting you till your sobs turn into quiet weeping.
Half an hour later, the curtains are still drawn, a few of the lights have been turned on and freshly brewed cups of coffee are present in both your and Chrollo's hands. You make it a point to not look at him, obviously embarrassed at the earlier situation.
So, like always, Chrollo takes the lead and asks what happened.
"I did something," you reply. "I… I don't know how but it just did and then…and then all the light became too much."
This piques his interest. Could it be that you found your Nen ability after just hearing about the basic techniques from him?
"What do you mean by 'did something'?"
You wordlessly stand up and seat yourself on the floor right in front of the centre table. Palm flat on the table, you slowly raise it up, and Chrollo sees something forming beneath it.
Using Gyo is useless, for what you've conjured up is made of hardly any aura at all. It baffles him to see a little rabbit, white but almost translucent, sit there. It blinks up at you, puffy eyes looking back at it with what one can only describe as repugnance.
Slowly, the bunny hops towards you. Its translucent body and solely white colour scheme makes it seem eerily unnatural as it clings to you, climbing up your body and into the crook of your neck.
You pet the animal, but when Chrollo tries to do so while reaching forward, his hand goes through it and touches your neck instead. Oddly enough, when the rabbit bumps its head against his hand, he feels the impact.
"I think only I can touch this thing," you state.
This ability may mean that you're a conjurer, but then why is it not made of aura? Chrollo can't seem to see any even with Gyo, so what is that? When you clench your fist, the animal disappears into thin air.
As frivolous as this seems, if used correctly, it could be a deadly ability.
"Is that what scared you, [Name]?"
Perhaps you took his words to be infantilising, for you look away and furrow your brows. Not even now can Chrollo feel your emotions like he did before. Therefore, he's left to guess like he always does.
"It scared me because it's the light."
The light?
He leans forward. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that light is what's making these things."
Light? So your ability consists of shaping light to your will? It is in a sense just energy.
"How can you be sure," he challenges.
Your stare is cold, merciless and oozing with disdain when you reply. "Because I know it is."
Wow. That's a lot of confidence for someone who was previously overwhelmed. Resting his face on his hands, Chrollo studies the flow of aura in your body. There's no need for him to give away all Nen related information if you're doing this well without it, so maybe he should just withhold it and watch how this plays out.
Had he felt generous, he would've done the water divination test with you, but he's not here to teach. He's here to give a slight push, steal and leave. That's it.
"I created a dead person's head."
Chrollo blinks up at you. That's certainly… something interesting to conjure up.
"Whose head was it?"
This time, your expression is sad when you answer. "My old neighbour. She died recently."
Ah, perhaps it was an unconscious thing. As you put away the cups, Chrollo keeps a close eye on your movements. The reason why your aura has been awakened may stem from this person's death. They might have been close to you considering that you did unconsciously create a copy of their head.
Maybe he needs to do some digging.
-
As Chrollo lets the midnight breeze blow through his hair, he thinks over the earlier events and information. An abusive husband, a docile wife. You were good friends with the lady, and tried to gather evidence to report the man.
Unfortunately for you, evidence was hard to gather. Whenever you tried, it would backfire and the now dead wife would suffer instead. Thus, when she took her own life, you used the police investigation to your advantage and revealed everything. The man was jailed, but the wounds of your dead friend never healed.
It is highly likely that this event triggered your aura nodes. Extreme emotional turmoil, though rare, is a possible trigger in your situation.
Eyes scanning the view in front of him, he thinks over possible uses of your ability. It's better than what a conjurer can do because you've already proven its versatility with the two extremely distinct things you created.
Maybe he should wait it out, let it develop more. He did, after all, tell you to practise with different things. If in case a new facet of your ability is unveiled, he wouldn't be the first to experiment with it.
-
The sounds of the bustling city make up for the lack of conversation. Behind you, a mother scolds her son for fighting with his younger sister. Next to them, a group of friends who have supposedly not seen each other for a while drink in the afternoon sun of the park.
You look tired.
And Chrollo has the urge to bring up the topic of soulmates.
Have you really not found a name on your body yet? It's hard to believe. He goes to sleep every single night after staring at that thing on his forearm with as much scorn as he is able to muster. He is a thief. And thieves do not indulge in daft affairs such as romance… or maybe most of them do not.
Contrasting his urges, Chrollo does not know what he would do if you have actually seen his name on your body. Should he use it to gain more of your trust? Or act innocent and pretend he doesn’t know? Would it be appropriate to indulge? Why does he want to indulge? What is so charming about your smile that he is rendered frozen and unable to look away?
Chrollo figures that Shopenhauer was perhaps partly correct in his analysis of love. Infatuation can blind even the most intelligent of men.
Your lips finally part to speak and Chrollo's world momentarily goes silent, the only sound being your voice and his beating heart.
"He's out of jail."
A vivid image of a grinning man comes to his mind, and he entertains it as the silhouette sports a hammer in his hand.
"He's out and he's looking for me."
The desperation in your tone suffices to rouse curiosity in him. Though a restraining order is paltry in this situation, he still suggests it just to be turned down. When you explain that a measly piece of paper saying that he isn't allowed to be near you is useless, Chrollo is unable to hold back a chuckle.
"Then why don't you just deal with him yourself," he proposes. "You're strong, [Name]. An ordinary man like him will go running as soon as he sees your Nen."
Now that the seed has been planted, Chrollo sits back and watches it grow.
-
Blood has never looked this good on any human being than it does on you. Oh if only he was able to witness it. The dead body of the man lies mangled in the living room, limbs separated, but your eyes seem to be more lifeless.
Intentionally feeding the enraged man information about your whereabouts was supposed to lead to a conflict where you flee home and purposely seek out Chrollo. During the panic, he would take advantage of your trust and steal your ability, take care of the man and be on his merry way.
Cleanup duty was not what he had expected. Well, neither was the possibility of you killing him considering how cowardly and timid you are. You must truly be his soulmate if you've done this.
Chrollo ushers you to your bedroom and asks you to stay inside till he comes for you himself. Summoning Bandit's Secret, he gets to work and once the mess is cleaned, he finds you seated on your bed in the same spot he had left you in an hour ago.
It's almost as though he's looking at a corpse.
Unmoving. He can't even be certain if you're breathing.
Calling your name does not elicit a reaction, so he simply sits next to you, mattress dipping under his weight. Judging from how messy it was, a fight must've transpired before. However, no furniture was broken or even scratched which means it was a clean strike. Not even your hands are dirty, only a few splatters on your face.
Which only boils down to you conjuring up or creating some sort of weapon with the 'light energy' that you manipulate. Whether it's conjuration or manipulation, Chrollo isn't sure. What he is sure of is that you are absolutely devastated.
So, being the gentleman that he is, he comforts his fated other half and bids goodbye after you're sound asleep. It was a completely one sided conversation again, but it doesn't matter.
He wants to break you more.
-
"Say, Chrollo?"
The man in question looks up from his book, the warm atmosphere of the library putting him at temporary ease. With a tilt of his head, he urges you to continue.
"Why do you always cover your forehead?"
He smiles, amused, and rests his chin on top of his hands. "Why do you wear clothes?"
"Huh?" Incredulous, you lean forward as well. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"We wear clothes to hide our body, yes? Some people choose to cover most of it, and some choose to cover less. I don't see anything wrong or socially unacceptable about covering my forehead. It's just another part of my body I wear clothing over."
Chrollo smiles smugly. The way your mouth is left open at the answer is quite delightful. It's hard to believe that just a week ago you murdered someone.
"You're hiding something!"
"Am I," he challenges. "If I recall correctly, I'm not the one with skeletons in my closet, dear."
Lately, he's been getting more bold with the pet names. It's amusing to see you grow flustered over his nonchalance.
"It was self defence. I… I didn't mean to do anything."
Sure you didn't, but neither of you talk about that night. It’s an unspoken rule you set when you acted as though nothing out of the ordinary took place the day after the incident. Ironically, Chrollo is bemused at why you’re not afraid that the police might come after you if he decides to not stay quiet.
"Why did you help me?"
Now that is an interesting question from you. Why did he help you? Was it some feeling of obligation that led to his cooperation? Or did he feel pity? Pity that he will soon leave you after taking away an imperative part of yourself.
But he's never felt pity on his victims before. Why now? Is it because you're his supposed soulmate? The full name is the same, and he is quite curious to see if you are to play a key role in understanding himself.
Perhaps it's time to tip over the cup and let the tea spill. As composed as you outwardly were when asking, he could laugh at how obviously you're panicking, afraid that he might get bored and tell the police. That is one thing he silently holds over you.
However, once the tea spills and stains, it never washes out.
"Have you ever heard about soulmates?"
The question seems to baffle you, for your inner panic morphs into plain dumbfoundedness. Thus, Chrollo takes the liberty to explain.
"There's this folktale that two people have each other's names somewhere on their body that can only be seen by Nen users. These two people are destined to be romantic partners. I thought it was a silly story at first, but it seems to be true. To be frank, I hadn't believed anyone's reporting of it, but seeing it for myself has proven me wrong."
You close your book, eyeing Chrollo closely. "What're you trying to say?"
As ballsy as he is, Chrollo pulls up his sleeve and shows you your name written on it. Mercilessly, he explains how he felt your emotions prior to fully accepting that you are, in fact, his destined 'other half'. Chrollo's tongue holds no remorse to the horrified look on your face as he continues explaining his reservations for befriending you and how he got over them.
Conversely, he stays quiet after the unloading of information and lets it all sink in, allowing you to process what you heard. You look scared and vulnerable, yet Chrollo can't figure out why. Is it because he is your soulmate? Or is it because you're just stuped over something as silly as this?
Whichever it is, you clearly did not know about it which means that you haven't seen his name on your body yet.
"And that's why you helped me…?"
"Frankly," he says, "that's why I approached you in the first place. I felt your emotions in this library and when I put two and two together, I figured it out."
A pause and you speak again. "But… I haven't seen any name on my arm."
"It can appear anywhere on your body. It's usually triggered by the other person being in your vicinity."
Silence.
Was stealing your ability and leaving the right way to go? Why are you looking at him like that? With such hope and friskiness?
Why are you reaching for his hand?
Once intertwined, you make it a point to look at your and Chrollo's hands held together. He eyes the connected hands with childlike curiosity at the uncalled gesture but lets you have your way. Once your giddiness has settled down, he's quick to put on a smile.
"Premarital hand holding? Why, that's a bold move."
The comment causes you to immediately let go of his hand as though touching a hot surface. What part of his little slip had bothered you is beyond Chrollo. However, he continues smiling and tries again at conversation.
"I hope you're not disappointed over who fate has chosen for you, [Name]."
"I'm not." The sudden proclamation perhaps made you nervous because you keep touching your hair. "It was just so sudden."
Chrollo decides to poke a little, just for fun. "So you have no qualms about me being your romantic partner? Is that what you're implying," he chuckles.
Somehow, this kind of flustered look on you is even more precious. Stammering over your words, you take a few moments before you can give a comprehensive reply.
"That's not… w-what I was saying. What I meant was… was…"
"Was?"
Taking a deep breath, you gather all your courage to speak which, by the way, is a lot more than what you used to kill that man. "I meant that I wouldn't… be opposed… to the idea."
Wow. If Chrollo thought he had seen the peak of your bashfulness, he was absolutely wrong. He could almost pinch your cheeks.
"Well, I'm glad you didn't outright reject me. That would have hurt quite a lot."
"What if I reject you later?"
"Hm." Faking contemplation, Chrollo holds his chin between his index finger and thumb. "I would simply kidnap you. I can't let someone as adorable as you escape, now can I?"
"Haha. Very funny, Chrollo."
Very funny indeed.
-
It was around two in the morning when you texted Chrollo. The second he saw your contact name on his screen, he felt victorious. You noticed, didn't you?
He had been keeping an eye on your schedule. During the hours you were not at home, he would enter your apartment and do a little… redecorating. An example is how this time, he left your kitchen knife over an empty piece of paper with a single red cross on it.
Simple and not bloody at all, but he knows you. Subtle signs are what scare you the most.
Wide open wardrobe doors, an unlocked main door, balcony door slid open with the curtain blowing outside because of the wind, kitchen drawers and cabinets left open, sofa cushions piled into a corner of the living room and so on.
Returning home to things being changed inside your house or waking up to those changes has certainly scared you a lot. Despite being as agitated as you are, this is the first time you contacted him. Did the knife outshine the other things?
No matter. It's not like he plans on replying. It's just a simple message asking him if he's awake. Chrollo doesn't even open the message, dismissing it from the notifications bar and heads to bed.
-
Perhaps he went too far with the scares.
As dire as the situation was in the beginning, he had thought that you grew accustomed to the changes in your surroundings but he seems to have been proven wrong. There are apparent signs of your weariness and agitation, and the sight almost makes Chrollo frown.
Your eyes cautiously dart around as you grab the cup of steaming hot coffee and bring it to your lips. Chrollo watches closely how you determinedly blow on the drink to cool it down, eyes fixated on the way your lips shape into a pout to do so.
He wonders how it would feel to touch them… among other things.
During your pursuit, you fail to acknowledge Chrollo's attentive stare and how he suddenly crossed his legs after clearing his throat. Begrudgingly averting his gaze elsewhere, Chrollo picks up his own cup and lets the silence between the two of you settle.
Was it not appropriate to tell you about the mark on his forearm? Are you somehow now vying to turn whatever this relationship is into a romantic one?
For the first question, Chrollo thinks he chose the right course of action. Knowing that he is your soulmate will make winning your trust easier, not that he doesn't have it already. For the second question, he can't be sure. There haven't been any such hints from you yet.
The fact that neither of you address the elephant in the room is also maddening. You had admitted to not being against having a romantic relationship with him, but the conversation hadn’t gone further. Should he take the initiative himself? It would certainly be more charming that way, but what if you didn’t bring up the topic again because you’re not ready for the commitment?
Ah, maybe he should go through the romance books you read. There ought to be a few quirks and personality traits of the male lead that could help him woo you.
His thoughts are interrupted by you calling his name. Putting down his cup, he watches you do the same, already missing the little pout on your lips from earlier.
"Chrollo, I think…I think I'm seeing things because of my ability."
Hm. An interesting deduction. You're wrong, but you don't need to know that.
"Do you suspect the happenings in your apartment to be hallucinations?"
You freeze at his question, but manage to muster a reply. "I don't know. It's probably my ability. It is related to light and conjuring stuff up, right? It has to be the ability!"
"Or maybe a vengeful spirit."
"No! No… he's dead. I know he is."
Erratic behaviour and irrational thinking. You're reacting accordingly. Now, to just give a little oxygen to the spark…
"If you're sure it's your ability," Chrollo drawls, "then maybe you should just get rid of it."
Surprise is clearly written on your face, and Chrollo almost smiles at the endearing wide eyes you sport.
"I can get rid of my Nen ability?"
"Of course." He takes a sip of his coffee and continues. "It's possible."
You bang your hands on the table, cup clinking against the surface. "How?!"
Chrollo simply smiles bastardly at that. If you suppose he will give away important information so easily, you're naive. However… your reaction to the matter was adorable if not an absolute deal-breaker.
Maybe he should give a little push before he claims his prize. It's been a fun ride, so why cut it short?
"If you want to know, dear, meet me here again next Friday at this same time. I need to do some research beforehand."
A change of plan is considered, and Chrollo needs time to think it over. Nevertheless, seeing how desperately you agreed, he thinks he might just change his plan after all.
-
Chrollo isn't certain whether this idea is wise to act on or not. As he makes way to your apartment, he recalls all the other times he's watched you for hours on end daily. There wasn't any noteworthy information he could gather other than your questionable nonchalance at continuing daily life despite everything.
Maybe he's put this off for too long. He should just get the job done and get on with it. Well, not after messing around with you a little more that is. You're his soulmate. The least he could do, if not indulge you romantically, is be a little playful, not that he isn’t going to indulge you, far from it actually.
Chrollo easily picks the lock in your apartment door. Turning on the lights, he sits himself on the sofa, pulling out a book to read while he waits for your usual time to come home. As he goes through the latest romance book you read, an hour passes, and when he can sense your presence in the vicinity of the building, Chrollo feels absolutely elated.
It's dark when you walk in. Closing the door behind you, you kick off your shoes, groaning. Leaving your bag near the shoe rack, you slowly walk in, wincing when the lights are turned on. However, the living room lights aren't the ones that are turned on. It's the kitchen.
"Good evening, [Name]. I hope today didn't tire you."
Squinting, you look at the dark haired intruder casually leaning backwards on the kitchen counter. His appearance is a mystery to you because you do not remember giving him a key.
"And what brings you here, Chrollo?"
"Is it taboo to want to see my destined other half?"
You scoff, "Quite the smooth talker. Seriously, why are you here? You scared the bejeebers out of me."
You carefully eye his posture. If he turns out to be a threat, you could just use your Nen. Maybe make a sword or some other weapon or just make a run for it. No, you trust him. The door was probably unlocked.
"I simply wanted to see you. I'm leaving in a while after all."
This seems to capture your interest. "Leaving? When? We were supposed to meet next week."
"Soon."
"Okay…"
"Very soon."
"How did you get in?"
Ah. There it is.
Before you could even blink, Chrollo had disappeared. Unfortunately for you, by the time your brain even registered the fact that he had supposedly vanished, a blade is pressed to your neck while an arm holds you steady against a chest.
He's behind you.
And he's put a knife to your throat.
"It's been fun. I could even say that the time I've spent here with you was quite enjoyable, my dear [Name]. However," he presses it closer to your neck, a sign that you should stop struggling. "All good things must come to an end."
"What-"
"I've told the police about what you did."
That's a lie, but what do you know?
Chrollo feels you struggle more, and even though he had no need to hold you like this, he finds satisfaction in feeling you writhe against him. It's nice to see you cower in fear.
"I can give you two options, dearest, and you have to choose whichever poison you prefer."
"Chrollo let me go-"
"If I move this blade even a millimetre, it will pierce your skin. It's also poisoned, so I can't guarantee that you will experience anything pleasant."
Another lie, but it easily makes you settle down.
Chrollo continues, "You can choose to either come with me quietly or stay here and let the authorities deal with you. Considering that you used Nen, I believe that the Hunter Association will come after you as well."
He releases you, and goes back to leaning on the kitchen counter like before, casually sauntering there.
"Will you choose me or certain death?"
"Who the hell are you?"
With a smile, Chrollo summons Bandit's Secret and holds it up for your view. The sight makes your insides twist in fear. For the ethically ambiguous man, your reaction is simply amusing.
"Do you not know, dear? I'm your soulmate."
You scoff again, fists balled. "How much did you lie to me?"
"I didn't lie," he states, matter of fact. "I simply withheld information."
The look you give him is one of pure rage. Ah, what bliss. Being on the receiving end of such an expression just makes you more precious in his eyes.
"You wouldn't regret coming with me." Releasing the book in his hand, he relaxes his posture. "We can have a good time together. I don't bite."
"Yeah, but do you stab?"
Chrollo shrugs, a smug smile making the action all the more infuriating. Holding the knife up to your view, you make out its intricate design and all the detailing. It's probably one used by assassins and the like. What should you do?
Before he says something, you cut him off. "Honestly, I'd prefer you bite. That thing doesn't seem to be a pleasant thing to be stabbed with."
"I assure you that biting would come one way or the other. How else am I supposed to mark you? Show my love for you?"
"Are you serious," you deadpan.
"Why? Do you want me to bite you right now? First, premarital hand holding, now this? My, how forward of you, [Name]."
Infuriating. Absolutely infuriating.
"Setting the jokes aside," he says, "I'm primarily here to rid you of your Nen. You asked me, remember?"
As Chrollo slowly steps towards you, your eyes - widened and glossy - stay fixated on Bandit's Secret. When Chrollo stops just a step away, he opens an empty page, watching how apprehension and dread oozes from your being.
Cupping your face with his free hand, he takes the opportunity to rub his thumb on your cheek as he consoles you. He could even almost lick his lips at how innocently you hold eye contact with your glossy, frightened eyes.
"I'll be gentle, so don't worry."
-
The first thing he did after he drove you here was give you a long list of rules to follow. What you had deduced from them was that you're now powerless and what he says, goes. He even took your Nen. At least now you know what his ability is, and it's in no way pleasant.
The hotel room is oddly fancy, but for someone like him, it's a perfect fit. He didn't tell you much on the way here, only absolutely necessary information like the fact that you are no match for him in combat or any other way and that you’ll have to stay with him for a while if you don’t want the police on your tail.
Your phone is confiscated, the telephone in the room has its connection cut and he's glued you to himself by trapping you between his body and the armrest of the sofa.
If anything, the arm Chrollo has slithered around your waist is just proof that he did hold some sort of affection for you from the beginning.
"If you keep drilling holes into the floor like that, you'll get wrinkles very early from the frowning, dear."
He hears you scoff and despite the book from earlier in his hand, smiles to himself at the reaction.
"I would prefer growing old and wrinkly early than endure this."
"How unfortunate then."
"..."
Chrollo turns a page, eyes going through the words. He feels you deflate, the action prompting him to pull you closer. On your end, it goes unappreciated, for you glare at him from his side.
Hesitantly, Chrollo turns his head to look at you. "Are you mad at me?"
"Nope. Not at all." Sarcasm oozes from your tone, but it only riles him up further.
"Would you like to be?"
Perhaps his smile is what's ticking you off, but it's amusing and he isn't someone to pass up on that.
"No. I'd rather take the wrinkles."
"Wise choice."
Is he really this unbothered after essentially ruining you? For what reason did he inform the police and then proceed to hide you? Why is he acting as though the two of you have been in a relationship for months? How is he so casual?
Before more questions can flood your panicked mind, Chrollo closes his book and announces that it's time. For what? You have no idea.
-
Chrollo's idea of a first date was to bring you to a mafia hideout with nothing but the clothes on your person. It was mainly a way for him to showcase just how powerful he is and just how much disparity exists between the two of you in strength. If he earns your compliance and submission on the first night together, you wouldn't dare to ever leave him.
You did say you weren't opposed to the idea of a romantic relationship with him, so it should be easy earning your acquiescence and cooperation, correct?
No. You're absolutely horrified at the dead bodies. Chrollo thinks he may have earned your fear instead of submission. But aren't the two things the same in essence? Maybe Shopenhauer is rubbing off on him a little bit.
As Chrollo removes a pen from the dead man's skull, he eyes how you're supposedly holding in a scream. There was hardly any blood involved in the kill, so maybe your terror stems from the act and not the sight. No matter. The man he was targeting is near. It'll be over soon.
An arm slung around your shoulder, his eyes don't miss the way you flinch. Chrollo smiles at you reassuringly, sending you an implicit message that you can take it and you will take it quietly. You're his soulmate. Stomaching this is the least you can do.
Maybe he'll reward you with giving you some privileges for the time being. Perhaps some information and clarity? He didn’t tell you much, so any information he gives you will be appreciated. Well, it's not as though your reaction to hearing that you will now live with him will be a positive one.
Chrollo indifferently saunters through the corridor filled with dead bodies as though walking through a park. You hesitantly follow behind him, staying close as per his instructions. Having arrived at the target's office, Chrollo once again asks you to stay close.
It's precious how you cling to him like your life depends on it.
And it does. It absolutely does depend on him.
The door opens with a creak and the man inside clearly looks like he's seen a ghost. Trembling in fear, all he manages to do is whimper. Chrollo simply closes the door behind him, and wordlessly summons Bandit's Secret, smug at how your eyes widened at the sight of the book.
The idiot crawling on the ground knows what's coming, and he's unarmed so there's no threat to you both. Chrollo supposes that arrogant men like him are easier to take care of since they're too prideful to even keep a knife on their person.
Nonetheless, Chrollo browses through the collection of abilities thinking over what to use. You're standing right next to him, throat dry and possibly even feverish from the fear. The latter is evident from how your face looks flushed and pale.
Using an ability that would swap air with water inside his lungs wouldn't be fun since it would do a quick job. Piercing his body with multiple Nen blades and then burning his skin off would be too terrifying for your poor eyes. Killing him without Nen would be pointless because he wants you to see the possibilities of what he can do.
Hm. What to use. What to use. Maybe…
"Indoor fish."
Your eyes widen at the two fish like creatures that appear in the room, floating. Without removing his eyes from the man, Chrollo gives you a warning. "If you don't want to be eaten alive, you will need to be in physical contact with me, dear."
A lie, but he wants to see your reaction.
Despite you desperately grabbing his free hand, you immediately close your eyes shut out of trepidation. The action will make you miss the point of what he's doing, so Chrollo frees his hand and pulls you in front of him by the shoulder.
Book open in one hand and the other gripping your shoulder, he calmly tells you to watch carefully, not allowing you to close your eyes for even a second. He forces you to watch the man be eaten alive by the fish, his terrified screams echoing in your mind.
Is this feeling a good one? Chrollo wonders if he's feeling victorious over his target dying or over you learning to fear his capabilities.
Ah, he was right earlier. You are feverish. He pulled you to him, back touching his chest and when he cupped your cheek, he felt wetness along with the increased temperature of your body. This night may have been too much for you, but it'll be worth it.
When the fish have eaten everything except for the man's head and half his torso, Chrollo closes Bandit's Secret and watches as his body collapses into a sad pile of flesh. You stifle a scream at the sight, and Chrollo briefly wonders if you felt this when you killed a man yourself.
His curiosity won’t be sated for a while. You've collapsed as well, so he can't ask you now. Well, off to the hotel you go. If you wake up soon, he’ll simply act as though nothing of importance transpired in the past few hours. It should throw you off into lowering your guard.
Seems like your legs had given out, not your consciousness. Chrollo’s thought process goes on auto-pilot and before he realises, he’s on his knees as well. The absolutely terror-stricken look on your face stirs something within him; however, an urge to remove you from this death filled environment is trampled by the urge to ruin you further, the latter winning solely because he let it.
He had squashed the will to soothe you like an insignificant insect and failed to dig up any remorse for the action. Even now as you frantically try to regain your bearings, the only thing on Chrollo’s mind is that this outing has ensured that you will never step up to him, and it is absolutely imperative that you do not. The reason is something Chrollo adamantly refuses to acknowledge.
Thus, like he always has, he will steal everything from you. Even if you are his soulmate, his destined other half. From you, he will steal your future and entwine it with his own no matter how.
-
The domesticity of waking up your beloved as sunlight falls on their face. Ah, such bliss. The curtains aren’t completely drawn, so some rays of sunlight peak through the gaps and fall onto your face. It's a sight that Chrollo would have ingrained into his mind if he wasn't confident that he'd be seeing it again often.
It may be that his arrogance will be his downfall but why not uphold it for the time being?
If it does not aid in anything else, it certainly makes the moment you flutter your eyes open all the more rewarding.
It’s not like he woke you up. You roused from sleep all on your own, and now you’re staring at him in confusion. Like you’re still dreaming. A switch flips inside you and you recoil backwards, putting some distance.
You’re simply being dramatic. On your insistence he had to sleep on the sofa, yet now you have the gall to react this way? Preposterous!
“Good morning to you too, dear.”
Chrollo’s greeting is accompanied with a smug smile, and you seem to have to hold yourself back from spitting something unsavoury.
“You…!”
“Contrary to what you may be assuming, I assure you that I woke up on the sofa. I merely came here to wake you up, that’s all.”
You squint your eyes at him in assessment. “Did you?”
“Yes. I did.”
“Alright.” You settle down and sit yourself at the side opposite to which you woke up since it’s currently occupied by the man who’s become your captor. A question pops into your mind, and you voice it before you forget. “Chrollo, why do the pillows smell like my perfume?”
“...”
“It’s a little cree-”
“I forgot to get them washed.”
Sure he did.
In one smooth motion, Chrollo is on his feet and out of the room. However, he backtracks to the doorframe, giving you a sly look before he pulls out his trump card with the smirk of a man who knows he's won.
In your somewhat vulnerable state from having just woken up, your eyes slightly widen at how he leans against the doorframe, arm raised above his head and resting on the doorframe as well. When your eyes land on his halfway unbuttoned shirt and bare forehead beautifully accentuated with loose hair, you immediately look away, eyes still as wide as saucers.
Intrigued at the reaction, Chrollo makes a mental note to go through the list of quirks and actions he made while reading those books you like. Maybe the time wasn't wasted after all.
-
It’s past noon now, and the dark haired man who holds a book in his hand while leisurely manspreading on the sofa refuses to give you any information. Well, you did learn something new. Chrollo covered his forehead because of a tattoo. What that tattoo is, you don’t know because all that he gave you for an answer was a smile.
His original aim at seating himself so disorderly was to force physical contact between you both. After last night’s date, you had avoided speaking to him and graced him with yelling when he attempted to share the bed with you. He understands why you would want to build up a level of trust to sleep together, but why avoid confrontation?
It’s absurd. Even forcing you to sit on the other end was a hassle. He even went through the trouble of packing some of your belongings and bringing them over late into the night so that you would be more comfortable in the morning after having to sleep in the same clothes you had worn for an entire day.
Chrollo has an idea about the questions that are brewing in your mind, but figured that his considerate gesture would act as a breaking point that would lead to you giving in and talking.
However, observing how you blankly stare at the wall, Chrollo closes his book and takes matters into his own hands. He remains extra careful to keep his voice gentle to soothe you into a feeling of security, to make you believe that you are safe and that he will take care of you despite what he had demonstrated the previous night .
“Did I pack everything of importance?"
You don't bother moving a muscle when you reply. "Yeah."
Grey eyes narrow at your disinterested body language, deciding to poke and prod a little. "Alright. If I missed anything, tell me and I’ll get it by tonight.”
“If the police are looking for me, then why do you keep going back there?”
Bait taken.
Now, reel it in, Chrollo.
“Mm. Maybe,” he rests his cheek on his fist, back leaned on the armrest, “it’s because no one’s looking for you.”
Something snaps inside you, and Chrollo can’t decipher what emotion it is that you’re displaying with that expression. Breath caught in your throat, he can see your eyes start to accumulate tears, brows furrow in what he recognises as confusion, and teeth clench as a sign of rage. Is it fury that you are experiencing? Your eyes show sadness and brows confusion, so which is it?
“What… do you mean?”
Chrollo decides to answer your question, faking a pensive expression. “Well, I never informed the police of anything to begin with, so I’m certain that no one is looking for you.”
“No one?!” You’re closer now, right in front of him in fact. “Not even my family? My parents?”
“It’s hardly been a day.”
“Then why…”
He braces for your yelling, so he’s obviously surprised when your question comes out as a whisper instead.
“Then why did you do all that?”
Yes. Why did he? Why did he go through the trouble of cleaning up your mess and then lie to you about reporting it? Why did he choose this path when a relationship was inevitable considering your subtle yet clear interest in him?
Well, it’s quite simple actually.
“I wanted you all to myself.” Chrollo leans forward and closer to you before he continues. “Your existence is key to understanding myself. You still have nightmares about killing that man, don’t you? I can’t even remember the face of whoever’s life I’ve taken.”
His hand cups your cheek, and the action feels akin to a searing hot piece of iron being placed on your skin. It’s a detestable gesture at the moment but you let him do as he pleases.
“Such a fragile being is bound to me by fate. So fragile, in fact, that she has to justify her sin by calling the man guilty so as to not let her own guilt take over.”
You flinch at the mention of the murder, but Chrollo’s grip is merciless and he keeps you under his hand. As he keeps staring into your petrified eyes, he moves closer, and closer until all you can see are his eyes.
“Tell me, darling. How did he scream? Was it desperate or spiteful? Was the smell of blood intoxicating or revolting?”
“Stop it-”
“What went through your head as you watched him die? How did it feel to see his limbs fly away from his body?”
“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”
The first few tears that manage to escape are promptly wiped away by his other hand. Before he resumes his verbal onslaught, he makes it a point to grab your face with both hands and force you to look him in the eye.
“You’re no better than I am. You continued on with life as though nothing had happened. I can’t say I’m unimpressed.”
His half-hearted compliment causes you to do a complete 360 degree turn, and Chrollo realises that he has found a little foible that he can exploit. You’re too emotional if provoked even the slightest bit and always ready to declare what you’re feeling.
“If I never met you, then all that would never have happened!”
However, sometimes those declared feelings can sting worse than even the deepest cuts with lemon squeezed on top of it.
“So I am responsible for you deciding to kill someone?”
“You were the one to put those destructive uses of my Nen into my head. You… you orchestrated all this!”
Chrollo finally lets go of your face but doesn’t avert his eyes. If anything, he looks at you more attentively now.
“Pointing fingers usually is seen as an act of denying responsibility for your actions, but in this case your finger points to the real culprit. You've caught me. How many years must I now serve, judge [Name]?”
His comment infuriates you further. Clenching your fists, you gather all your malice and concentrate it in your glare, malice oozing from your very eye sockets.
“Chrollo Lucilfer,” you say, “I wish I died before ever having the misfortune of meeting you!”
“Unfortunately for you- wait.”
As much as the admittal hurts, Chrollo’s mind focuses on another pressing matter. He never told you his full name which can only mean…
“[Name], I’m afraid I'm cutting your little tantrum short and as much as I wanted to refrain from anything premarital, I hope you understand when I ask you this. Show me where my name is on your body.”
Like a little child, you protectively wrap your arms around your body, shaking your head profusely in rebellion. “No way!”
“Is it somewhere you don’t want me to see?”
“No!” You stop shaking but your arms are still the same. “It’s not there anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I haven’t seen it ever since I got here.”
Ah. That’s because you no longer have Nen. Unlike you, he can use it perfectly fine.
“Where,” Chrollo demands.
Begrudgingly, you turn around, arms now hanging at your sides and legs crossed. “It’s… on my lower back. You can have a look but only this once.”
Hesitantly, Chrollo lifts the fabric of your shirt, unsure of what he may see despite knowing exactly what he will. His eyes widen at the sight. His name, Chrollo Lucilfer, is right there on the small of your back. As though in disbelief, he traces each letter with his index finger, ignoring the way you shiver at the touch.
“Hey, Chrollo?” Voice meek, you don’t turn your head to look at him, speaking sitting as you are. “Why did you lie to me about the police?”
His eyes don’t budge from the sight of his name. “To be frank, I wanted to see your reaction.”
“If your little prank is over, can I go home? I’m sure my parents are worried.”
Somehow, the mention of your family causes an ugly feeling to bloom in Chrollo’s chest. He covers you with your shirt, eyes still fixed on your lower back. Chrollo will try again, and this time he will be clear.
“I’m afraid that you’ll be living with me from now on.”
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sunkissedndhoney · 25 days ago
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Devil's Advocate
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>Yan! Chrollo x Fem! Reader
>Word count: 2.4k
>Warnings: anxiety, bastardly smug Chrollo
>a/n: I actually had to Google what a telephone looks like lol
An unattended telephone and overflowing temptation. Is that lady luck smiling down on you or the man who holds the key to your peace and freedom?
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The quiet rumbling of the moving car makes up for the lack of conversation. On the driver's seat sits Chrollo, hands on the steering wheel, while you try your best to not succumb to the midnight silence's lullaby. Your head once again falls against the window, and you flinch awake, sitting upright.
Chrollo briefly glances at you, eyes once again on the road in front of him. When your eyes close for the umpteenth time and head slowly falls onto the window, Chrollo smiles to himself. This time, you don't flinch awake and continue sleeping.
However, a few minutes later, your eyes snap open and you readjust yourself in your seat. A chuckle manages to escape the man next to you, so you direct your sleepy glare to him. The half-hearted glower is acknowledged when he stops at a red light in spite of the empty road and faces you.
The playful smile on his face and your sleep-filled anger makes the situation seem almost ludicrous. Had it not been for Chrollo finding your hostility cute, you would've succeeded long ago in making him listen to you.
"You should get some rest," he requests, amused smile turning into a softer one. "There's still a bit of a ride to the hotel, so there's ample time to take a nap."
"How very thoughtful of you."
He shrugs. "I'm simply asking you to let yourself rest."
The traffic light turns green and the car starts moving again. You, on the other hand, get comfortable by resting your head in the position that is least probable to let your poor skull bang against the glass window. Had there not been loud static on the radio, you would've put on some music to fill the silence instead of having to listen to Chrollo quietly hum to himself with a smile.
The low rumbling of the moving car and quiet hums from the driver seat's occupant slowly soothe your mind into slumber. Your breathing relaxes, body going lax, and Chrollo finds himself slowing the car to be able to turn and look at you every few minutes. On the next red traffic light, he fixes your poor posture with a sigh, mind already replaying your complaints of neck pain.
-
As if a switch has been flipped, you, much to Chrollo's misfortune, wake up right at the moment the car is parked in the hotel's parking lot. The unfortunate man's lips press into a thin line as he watches you rub your eyes and stretch in the space you have available. He finds his luck to be absolutely unbelievable to have such a travesty occur.
You, on the other hand, find your situation to be bothersome rather than unfortunate. Your neck hurts and your entire body is more fatigued than it was before the sleep. Thankfully, Chrollo doesn't find the circumstance fit for conversation and wordlessly exits the car, opening the door for you before you even put your hand on the handle.
A pleased smile is on his face when you get out. The expression remains as he guides you towards the entrance, but the curve of his lips widens when you ask about the luggage.
"I'll get it later. You, my dear, desperately need a bed."
With that, he easily whisks you away to a room on a floor whose number you didn't bother to look at, only satisfied with finally laying on a bed. Hardly minutes after he oh so lovingly tucked you in after gently manoeuvring you to a side so that you don't make him end up sleeping on the couch by starfishing, you see the beginnings of sunlight filter through the curtains.
It's day already. Just how long did the car ride take? Wasn't it dark when you were heading to the lobby?
It doesn't matter. You're here now, on a bed no less. If you could just…
Wait.
The phone.
The hotel room has a telephone!
And Chrollo… he left immediately after tucking you in. Plus, he's gone for the luggage. That ought to take at least ten minutes right?
Slowly, you creep out of bed. If the telephone in here works as it rightfully should, you may be able to contact the authorities! As soon as your feet touch the carpeted floor, your thought process ceases function, body completely running on autopilot as any trace of sleep vanishes.
Adrenaline rushes through your blood, heart beating against your chest as you gingerly tiptoe and exit the bedroom. All the curtains in the main room are drawn, and your eyes utilise the scarce light filtering through the curtains to start the search for the telephone.
A deafening silence hangs in the air, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that you’re too suspiciously lucky.
One step forward.
The carpet under your feet overwhelms your senses, the friction from it doing a lot more than to just ground you. Your eyes spot what looks like a telephone underneath the mirror on the wall. It temptingly sits on a table in the corner of the main room. Like a siren’s song, it calls to you and you hesitantly heed, taking another step forward.
Under your feet, the carpet brushes against your soles. Another step, and your heart starts thumping in your ears.
Fingers twitch when you’re a few feet away from the device. Eyes locked onto it like predator and prey, you take another daunting step forward.
An unsettled and shaky exhale leaves your lips when you pause in your pursuit. This is too good to be true. The telephone is hardly three feet away from you, and its wires are all intact. The green light signalling that it works is blinking at you while you blink back, but you’re frozen, utterly in disbelief at your luck.
Tilting your head, you crane your neck to see if Chrollo’s shoes are by the door but they aren’t. He really isn’t here yet. Now’s your chance!
Swiftly your feet pad over to the table. You don’t bother so much as to glance at your reflection, already aware of how your tired face will stare back at you. Grabbing the phone, you start recalling emergency services’ numbers.
They’re different for every region right? But some places share the same codes. Nevermind. You’ll just have to try every single one that you know.
Shakily, your finger aims for the dial pad while the phone stays pressed against your ear. As though reaching for an open flame, your finger warily presses 1. Your head whips to look behind you, then to the left and then right but no one's there other than the sound of your own breathing.
An imaginary timer suddenly starts ticking in your head, and you immediately go with pressing the other two digits. The phone slowly starts dialling and you press the phone closer to your ear.
An automated message plays, informing you of the incorrect number. Hastily, you try a different code, pressing the phone to your ear just to hear the same message again.
The timer in your head ticks faster, and you find your heart beating impossibly fast. Tenacity pushes you forward to try again only to fail a third time.
A different code pops into your mind and you scramble to dial it. Pressing the phone to your ear, you breathe a sigh of relief when it dials for longer than it did before.
One buzz.
Then two.
A bead of sweat rolls down your temple, a third buzz making you realise just how time has slowed down for you.
A fourth buzz and you find yourself holding your breath.
By the time you exhale, the phone goes silent. Did no one pick up? But if no one did, a sound signifying the unsuccessful call would have played, so why is it beeping?
When you reach for the dial pad again, you freeze when you see a finger pressing down on the red button.
Body acting against your will, your eyes follow the finger to the hand and consequently to the man standing a step behind you. The sunlight that manages to peek through the gaps hits his back, giving his body an ominous glow.
The expression on his face is nowhere near decipherable, but you know very well that your own is one of absolute horror.
When his finger retreats, you start counting your regrets.
A heavy silence settles between you two. Neither party says anything, the only conversation being between your wildly beating heart and mind screaming at you to start apologising.
His head turns to you, but your mind fails to register any expression on it. You're face to face with a blank canvas, but your mind soon clears up enough to make out his expression.
Blank.
There's no disappointment in his eyes, no anger, no annoyance, nothing. You remain unable to make out any emotion on his face despite the assiduity you practise. He remains standing there as still as a statue, watching you, observing you.
If his gaze held physical weight, you would have been crushed under its sheer intensity.
Minutes pass and you remain frozen standing there, subject to his all consuming eyes. The phone slowly slips from your hand and falls to the floor with a dull clink but your hand remains suspended mid air. When the sound echoes in your mind, you feel that your chest is violently heaving for air.
He continues to stare at you unblinking, and you remain rendered unable to look away.
A firm grip on your hand and he finally moves, breaking the overwhelming eye contact but bringing you with him as you scramble behind him to follow. The door to the bedroom closes quietly after he gently moves you to sit on the edge of the bed.
It's when the lock clicks into place that dread seeps into your being, deep inside your bones. Chrollo sits opposite to you on a chair, face resting on his hands as he continues to stare at you.
You feel like an outsider in your body. No matter how much you may scream at yourself to just say something, repudiate your betrayal or at least move, you don't. You're frozen. Each and every single muscle in your body is on high alert, fight or flight response active.
Chrollo's grey eyes bore into yours, but unlike in the main room, his face is completely visible thanks to it now being day on the other side of the curtains. As your mind clears up, you assiduously go over every feature of his.
The tattoo on his forehead is on full display, but the hair near his face seems a little damp. He's even changed into different clothes - his usual sleepwear. You're still unable to identify any emotion on his face, but you do understand this.
He's observing you, watching your anxiety and how you deal with it.
Seconds pass and your mind clears up with every single one. You gain more and more clarity and you eventually conclude that he's waiting for you to break the silence.
His eyebrows briefly raise when a look of understanding flashes across your face. Despite your transgression, you refuse to let him win. You're aware that either way you will be punished, and now that your anxiety has settled down a bit, you're willing to embrace whatever it is because there is no way out.
Chrollo holds the key to your peace and freedom but still prefers to bring the complete opposite in your life.
Honestly, seeing how you're wide awake, you can't believe that you've hardly slept a few hours in the last 24.
The staring continues but you stay firm in your stance. You attentively watch how Chrollo's lashes delicately flutter against his under eyes when he blinks, grey eyes playing the role of bottomless pits.
His lips part to speak, but he stops himself before a sound can be made. Next, his brows slightly furrow, eyes not breaking away from yours, and he tries again.
"Before we discuss your actions, I want to make this clear. Any sort of capitulation or imploring from your side will only make this situation worse for you. Choose carefully how you respond to me."
That had sufficed to cause you to start nervously fidgeting with your hands.
"What was going on in your head when you rose from bed and headed for the telephone?"
The way he's looking at you is giving you goosebumps. There's no hint of affection in his demeanour anymore. It's almost foreign.
"Well?"
Swallowing nervously, you gather the courage to reply. "I'm not sure. I just wanted to-"
"Concrete answers." Chrollo crosses his arms as an indifferent look stares at you. "I know you, [Name]. You're not a stupid girl. Give me concrete answers. I am not in the mood for your prevarication."
Alright… well he's mad. That's not good.
"I… I thought I would be able to contact the authorities."
He scoffs, an uncharacteristic reaction. "And then? I thought you were smarter. You've had a glimpse of Skill Hunter, yet you still believe measly policemen are of help."
"..."
"Your mind rationalised that normal people with guns or a little authoritative power can compete with a Nen user? Do you perhaps need a refresher?"
"No! No. Please. I'm… I was dumb. I admit my stupidity."
Chrollo leans forward, eyeing you as though studying a painting. His eyes travel across your entire body, and his hand settles on holding your face. If you hadn't known Chrollo, you would miss the way his grip on you seems to be strained as though he's holding himself back.
"You're absolutely foolish," he says. "This is exactly why you need me. You're too naive, too unsophisticated. Your simple-mindedness will be your downfall and of those you care for."
Wait-
"You're very fortunate, [Name]. I was planning on taking you to see the sunset the day after tomorrow, so I'm willing to forgive and forget if you grant me a favour."
You immediately grab his wrist, pleading eyes submitting to him. When his other hand also cups your cheek, he cradles your face in his hands. Thumb caressing your cheekbones, you continue looking at him imploringly, silently telling him that you're ready to appease him so long as he doesn't elaborate on the downfall of those you care about.
A smile stretches on Chrollo's lips at your silent begging. "Quid pro quo, darling. I sincerely hope you remember that you are responsible for the situation you are about to be in."
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sunkissedndhoney · 25 days ago
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Exasperation Under The Covers
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>Yan! Chrollo x Fem! Reader
Word count: 1.2k
a/n: first time writing him. I tried making him as bastardly annoying as possible 🙏
Warning: touchy Chrollo
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You have always been in awe at how such little things can lead to such drastic outcomes. The butterfly effect, as it’s called, is something you had first found ridiculous but soon found in many places. You suppose your first encounter with it was that one singular comment from a middle school classmate which later led to more.
It’s been years, so the memory doesn’t resurface and bother you anymore, yet you remember how it tore you to shreds during your highschool years. With your parents belonging to humble backgrounds, you didn’t want to burden them more so you kept it to yourself.
Years passed, and you grew out of it. The urban city life had whisked you away and waltzed with you along the rhythm of the city folk, your parents also busy in their lives as you’ve grown up. Despite being in the same city, you did not see them frequently.
With how your job had always kept you busy, you went weeks without seeing them. What seemed like a time management issue has metamorphosed into a lifelong regret. Oftentimes, you wonder if you just fixed your timetable a bit and made the decision to exit the subway at a different stop, you wouldn’t have forgotten their faces.
That day… if you had just gotten off the damned train, you wouldn’t be scrounging up memories to complete the image of those who birthed and raised you. Perhaps you wouldn’t even be stuck like glue to his side like you are now.
One step. That is all it would have taken you. One step and you wouldn’t have been regretting it this much now.
“I thought we agreed on your full attention, [Name].”
The interruption doesn’t elicit any kind of physical reaction from you. If anything, you simply sigh and start to fidget with your hands under the cover. He takes the silence as an invitation to let his hand roam. An arm slithered around your torso, it moves from your hip and rests on your bare thigh. You can see the bump it makes in the blanket.
“You got lost. Mind telling me where?”
His question is accompanied with his fingers tapping your thigh before they settle down with a gentle squeeze. The action causes your insides to recoil. Because of how overwhelming Chrollo's touch is, you have to take a few deep breaths before you can muster up a reply.
“Nowhere,” you state. “I was simply zoning out.”
You can hear him close his book, the sound echoing in your mind. Like always, he returns your question with something that demands further explanation from you.
“Zoning out to where?”
“I was thinking that maybe I should’ve accepted wearing your shirt after all.”
Infuriatingly enough, you don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smiling.
“Oh? I thought you would do anything rather than wear what I own. You had said it yourself, dear, that you would fall sick if you smelled like me.”
“This is worse than that,” you deadpan. “Sickness is nothing when compared to irreparable emotional and psychological damage.”
“I don’t believe I dress you up that horribly.”
Horribly? This is absolutely outrageous! A single button down shirt of his would cover more skin than what this measly excuse of a dress does. Having to deal with the lingering smell of his cologne would have been nothing compared to this.
All this mental suffering just to deny one damn kiss.
“Though the idea of seeing you in my clothes instead is enticing, I’m afraid I must call out your lie first. Tell me what you were really thinking about.”
You scoff, “I was fantasising about you choking on dinner.”
“Fun, but sadly impossible. Last chance [Name].”
Another squeeze to your thigh and you almost shoot him a glare. However, you decide to not grace him with your eyes and instead keep your gaze fixed on where your hands should be under the cover. Head slowly falling back and hitting the headboard, you try your best to keep a neutral face. Chrollo is, after all, blatantly staring at you.
“I was just thinking about my parents.”
“Ah.” His ogling comes to a halt. With his other hand, he gently nudges your head to rest on his shoulder. You begrudgingly let him. Any sort of comfort is welcome for the time being.
“What brought about the reminiscence?”
You can feel his eyes on you now. Chrollo watches like a hawk, waiting for any sort of reaction to his comforting gesture. Unfortunately for him, you don’t give him any and instead answer his question.
“Tomorrow is their wedding anniversary.”
He hums. “Perhaps I should send them a gift. Their mingling did result in you after all.”
“That was a horrible joke.”
“I’ve been called the same.”
Did he just…? Nevermind. His existence is somewhat a joke in poor taste. Wait. He isn’t serious about the gift part, is he?
“You aren’t serious about that, are you?”
He rests his head on top of yours, and you internally gag.
“I’m afraid not,” he replies. “I’ve always had the feeling that my mother would have laughed after she found out she was pregnant with me.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Another squeeze and his hand travels further upwards. Goosebumps erupt on your skin as his thumb traces his initials on the inside of your thigh.
“Really? What do you mean then?”
Your heartbeat accelerates when his entire hand starts travelling up and down, the callouses on it creating uncomfortable friction. Fists clenched, all words die in your throat when he slips his hand under your thigh and lifts your leg up. With more skin accessible, his hand slithers under the hem of your dress, but you push yourself away from him immediately.
With how he easily let you go, you’re certain that he was testing your limits. Heart pounding in your ears, you scoot to the other end of the bed, pouting when you catch him staring at you again. Attempting to cover yourself to the shoulders with the blanket is unsuccessful, for he pulls the entire thing away.
“We agreed on your full attention, so you mustn't back away,” he smiles.
Ah. He’s not giving up on that, is he? But… he promised he'll return your pyjamas if you go along. He didn't say anything about your clothes as suspicious as it is. Nevertheless, a comfortable sleep is what you're after for the time being, so you must behave.
Hesitantly, you scoot back to him albeit with some distance between you both. Who knew stepping backwards when he was about to peck your cheek would lead to a silly bet like this?
Aaaand his hand is back again.
"Chrollo Lucilfer, do you not have any sort of self restraint or shame?"
He smiles, smugly tilting his head to look at you like he just won some sort of game. "A fine work of art should be admired to the fullest."
"No. You need to meditate in the forest or something. Now get your hand off me."
The smile remains and he doesn't move. Sighing, you grab his hand and remove it yourself. Before you could put it away from your person, he flicks his wrist and grabs your hand instead.
"You should know, [Name], that I typically revel in my spoils to my heart's extent. Whatever you do won't bother me. I'm a thief after all, and I always get what I want."
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sunkissedndhoney · 25 days ago
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sunkissedndhoney · 25 days ago
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