tw: yandere, stalking, kidnapping, death, adult scenes/implied, violence, flashback scenes (a lot but that just happens), angst
an: this took me so long to edit omg.
Chapter one
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THEN
Chrollo stands with his friends, his comrades in this endeavor for a safer Meteor City. The first one to arrive at the meeting is Uvogin, of course, then Phinks. Phinks combs his hair and yawns. “What’d ya plan this time, boss?”
He’s decided to create a plan to steal a map. It’s going to be dangerous. However, he knows they can handle it. They are thieves and take what they please, especially if he commands it. Besides, they owe him. He hasn’t forgotten their stupid plan all those years ago and how innocent blood is splattered on everyone’s hands. Well, except for Phinks, he assumes.
Even if all of these people argue with him about it, nothing can take away his satisfaction. Yesterday, he had the time of his life. Finally, after years of adoring and pining, he’s claimed you. Not as a friend whose heart already knew who it belonged to, but as a man and your boss. He’ll never forget it. He read so much on how to please and did it just for you.
It meant everything to get you to join and for you to submit to him. He, Chrollo Lucilfer, tamed you. Without violence or black mail. Just pure delight and passion. He’s taken your virginity that you so willingly gave to him in the house of mirrors, and greedily took all he could afford. Seeing your tears from your orgasms, how you tried to cling onto everything you could as he ravaged you, how amazing you felt, is something he’ll never forget. Such sweet cries and moans left you so tired.
And God, how you taste is more addicting than any wine. More satisfying than any substance imagined. You will never deny him of that. Of all of this. He’s mapped you out and is determined to feel you clench around him again. How could he not? You were his the moment he met you. Everyone knew it except for you. He took you under his wing and protected you. Catered to your every whim and was patient beyond belief.
Now, he’s proven himself to you as a man. One that can hit the deepest part of you and make you shake and have your eyes roll. As your boss, one that you submit to, and only him. No worries, he’ll always treat you like a treasure that a dragon would cherish. After all this time he has wanted you. He has always been completely besotted with you. There is not a power or ant in the world to make him let you go.
You took him wonderfully and made him see heaven. A place he didn’t think he’d step foot in. Maybe you’re the way there. Every look you give, noise you make, your touch, the dreams you have, and your glorious taste, lets him know it's true.
He takes a deep breath to calm himself down at the memory of last night. The remaining bits of the Phantom Troupe come into the broken-down building. Some sit on debris, the others stand with their arms crossed. Recently, a new recruit has entered the fray, number eight. It’s a man of average height, thick wavy hair, and pure green eyes. He decided he was done with not fitting in with the world and joined.
Chrollo doesn’t know his nen ability. From the looks of things, he might be an emitter. He’ll give him one thing: number eight is smart by not telling him what his nen ability is.
Chrollo hears the crunching and ruffling of a bag. He looks towards the noise and sees you come in. He can’t help but feel a smidge of pride when he sees your slight limp. No one knows what transpired between the two of you. So, maybe your dignity will be spared.
He can see their disappointment at your arrival. He shoots it down quickly. "Enough, she's part of the Spider now." His eyes never leave you. Machi asks how you're useful. You stick out your tongue and refuse to share your chips. Phinks groans at that and crosses his arms.
“She’s the fourth leg.” He declares, clearing away the disappointment they have, especially when it's revealed that you're an exorcist. You look up at him with such pretty eyes. Do you know how beautiful you are? How cute you look right now, crunching on a bag of chips? Not to mention, you sat down next to him without complaint. You just automatically did it. Finally, you’ve realized you belong to him. His thoughts are interrupted by number eight.
“Very nice.” Chrollo’s eyes flick over to him. The bastard’s head is cocked to the side and his fingers are on his chin, like he’s appraising you. Pakunoda nudges him and tells him to stop. The damage is already done. Chrollo will not tolerate this.
In due time, he’ll make an example of him. Not in front of you, of course. Chrollo would hate to scare you. So, he’ll wait. He has always been patient.
________________
A few years later, Chrollo has once again come up with a plan. It all started with Sheila telling one of the members about the Kurta. As he is told, they are responsible for Sarasa’s death. Not only that, but they hold scarlet eyes which are one of the wonders of the world. You only heard the last part. You completely skipped over their alleged part of everyone’s dear friend’s demise.
Her name still causes soreness. Especially with you. Although you understand and have accepted that she is gone, it still hurts you. It was unexpected for Sarasa to end up the way she did.
Now is not the time to think about that. Especially when he welcomed you into his place after planning on making your favorites. Once, he had read that a date could be something simple, like cooking together. That was the plan. Dinner and a movie maybe trade the movie in with him reading to you. You always loved to hear him read.
The two of you get your stomach full of mediocre food. The plainness of the dish was mainly because of Chrollo, he’d say. He’s studied up on cooking before and watched all of those channels but still cannot hold a candle to you. The two of you settled on a couch he stole a while back. You had sat on it one day and demanded to have it. Of course, he did as you wished. However, he put it in his house as an excuse for you to come over more often. It worked, surprisingly.
After getting cleaned up and a few more kisses, he tells you only a little about his gift. “Our next heist is going to give you something beautiful. Something you will really love. Are you excited?”
You sleepily nod. He leans back, letting you snuggle to his chest. He wraps his arms around you like a lover would. No, he is your lover as you are his. Lately, the two of you have been doing things together a lot more. Just like a couple would.
He rubs your back and speaks in a soft voice, “In order for it to succeed, I need your absolute cooperation, understand?” You nod. He can’t help but give you kisses wherever he can. He swears he hears you purr when you hug him back. He’s so happy.
The next day, the Spider leaves to find the Kurta. Everyone thinks it is the Scarlet Eyes he’s looking for, and while that is partially true, what he really wants is the Dark Sonata that the clan holds. It’s cursed, so you’ll need to purify it. Your gift will be beautiful and done masterfully. While Feitan’s beloved fancies odd gifts like flesh or appreciates whatever he finds, Chrollo doesn’t think you would like a random toe for a gift.
To perform the most legendary music for you…the smile you’d have would be picture worthy. Something to belong in only the highest museum.
He’d have the Troupe play it since everyone has been told to take up an instrument. He told them that it’d help with their nen. In reality, they’ll play it for you. Your very own orchestra. Besides, they owe him. Forever, and always. He loves them dearly. They are his friends.
The elder meets him at the center of their settlement. The Kurta stands around, encircling them. Most are close to their homes, tents with blue fabric with Kurta clan symbols on it or the few buildings around with the same fabric draped on the stone.
They look nervously at the thirteen guests.
Chrollo gives him a dazzling smile and kind eyes. He speaks to the elder calmly. The Kurta’s eyes widen with horror etched onto their faces. Chrollo knows you can’t hear what is being said since you are a bit farther away. You can’t tell that he is demanding their eyes and next will be something magnificent. The Head leans in and whispers to the elder, “Where is the Dark Sonata?”
“I’ll never say.” The elder shakily, and stubbornly, states. Chrollo hums and decides to perform. He loudly asks, “And why did you commit such a sin against Meteor City?”
The members of the Troupe subtly look relieved. Had he been anyone else, it wouldn’t have been caught. Alas, he is a connoisseur of observing people. He loves to study them. Plus, he is familiar with his friends.
“Boss, you really want those eyes, huh?” Nobunaga asks. Chrollo smiles. “Hm, among other things. Let us revel in their glory. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?”
“Chrollie…what are you talking about?” Your nervous and sweet voice, asks. “This is the job, darling. You have your role, and you’ll get to play. As long as the eyes shine bright.”
You gasp in horror, your beautiful eyes round. “This is insane! Stop this right now!” Right when he thinks you’ve learned your place you retreat back into that attitude of yours. He takes a deep breath. “Enough! Just do your job.”
The elder looks at you. Chrollo hates it. He cannot stand the compassion, the care, you have for this nobody. Why are your pretty eyes looking at this worm like that? He’s doing this for you. Getting the eyes for you to see and for the city to benefit from. Digging for the Dark Sonata for you to hear safely.
The elder is about to speak when Chrollo interrupts. “Uvo.”
Suddenly, Uvogin strikes one of the Kurta’s legs and reveals a woman’s red eyes from across them. She doesn’t hesitate to go to the fallen woman who cries for her missing legs. Right then, Uvogin gouges the Scarlet Eyes out. Number eight uses his nen to preserve them and places them in a jar. With a flick of his wrist, the rest of the members go on the attack. He turns his head slightly only to see you horrified and disgusted. You run to him, pulling on his arm, demanding him to stop this. Him, the Head, your boss, your lover.
He jerks his arm out of your pleading hold. “Do as you are told.”
“You-thi-this is wrong! They haven’t done anything to us!” You see Machi begin to use her nen. “No!” You call out to her. You tug on him again and again. “Tell them to stop! This is evil, disgusting!”
Irritation continues to grow heavier by the second.
“Go and do your fucking job.” He points to a small group that is being guarded by two scared adults. The few children behind them don’t go unnoticed. “Don’t be this way, Chrollie. You're my friend. You can’t be this way.”
Friend. Friend? After everything he’s done for you. Provided, protected, cared, loved? You let him make love to you and fuck your brains out when needed. You had him lavish you with everything you wished for. Reading to you in the dead of night when you couldn’t sleep. You let him vent with his head on your lap and listen to his ideas, just like he listens to yours.
He gave himself to you. And he’s your friend? After the sin he committed and can’t forgive himself for, and done it for you?
Darkness clouds his mind. He pushes you off of him. You land harshly on the dirt ground. He points to the exit of their little village. “Go and catch stragglers. Miss one, and you won’t get a head start.”
You gasp and run. He remembers being this angry only twice. When you wanted to leave, and when Sarasa died. The only bright thing of that day was that number eight died and Chrollo let it happen. He couldn’t do it himself since the rule he placed for you. Members are not allowed to fight each other.
The Phantom Troupe watched as number eight begged for help from a Kurta warrior, knowing better than to help him.
He admits that he began to get callous. Numb to the pain and had lessened his caring hold of you. He pinned a lot of responsibility on you now. Everyone was surprised at this new behavior. You took it in stride, though. Even as the two of you withdrew from each other, he wouldn’t let you get far. Him doing this was to discipline you. To let you have a taste of what he does for you. For you to once again trust him like you are supposed to.
Not long after, the two of you came across Silva Zoldyck. He knew you weren’t equipped to handle someone of this caliber, but he pushed anyway. He thought you trusted him enough to rely on him, to let him be the offense and you the defense. Then, the unthinkable happened. Stupidly, you ran right to Silva and attacked.
Chrollo held your dying form in his arms. He cried apologies and prayed every prayer in the good book. Nothing was working. He expected something to snap or crush. He has read that his heart should break and it to be literally felt. He expected a part of him to go with you. Instead, he started to feel whole. And he hates it. He feels the true burden of himself, something he assumes he split with you. There is no heated desire for vengeance or even death.
He feels…lost. There is no plan or even an identity, he thinks. Did it die with you? Did the compass of himself leave with you? The name you gave him, did you take it with you. That’s fine with him. His name is yours; he is yours.
He kisses you with tears streaming down his face, some landing on his lips and blending with yours.
I love you, I love you. It was real, my love. No book in the world could ever describe it. Is this what it’s like for a soul to leave a body? To be a hollow shell for anything to fill in it, even the darkest of monsters. Or could this be what I was the whole time?
Who gives a damn about the monsters even if they share his face? None of that matters now that you’re gone…you’re gone. You died.
He squeezes you tighter, closer to him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck while your chest is pressed against his. If he was insane, he'd swear he could still feel your heartbeat.
The members rushed to him and were shocked at your departure. He thought he’d hear their cheers or see smiles. Never would he have thought they would actually be saddened to a degree. Some more so than others.
Like a strike of lightning, a giant bright light brings its force. It’s a smaller version of what took you, he sees. It comes down and in a moment of reflex, Franklin yanks him away from your body. There is a rumble underneath their feet. Dust flies up and around the strike that makes a perfect, deep circle. It was aimed directly at the Troupe. Chrollo had looked at it and your body was gone.
He couldn’t even bury you.
It was this event that completely changed Chrollo. Rather than the group staying together, they go their separate ways until he calls them, disappearing completely. Little do they know, he would frequent the places you loved most. That cottage that you and Chrollo would spend calm days, the meadow, Meteor City's library, and the church that the both of you grew up in. They are sacred places that he isn’t worthy of going to. They are practically holy, a place to cleanse a sinner such as himself.
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PRESENT
Here you are, sleeping like you didn’t run away from him. Your toes twitch and curl. You stretch your legs and yawn, slowly blinking awake. Chrollo sat in front of you, studying intently. After your betrayal, he’ll never admit to how you look like a cute cat. No, that’d only lead you to believe that you have a hold on him. And that, you will never have again.
The more he studies your face, the more he tries not to laugh at the situation. The whole thing is absurd. To think, he only discovered that you were alive is because of that Zoldyck kid. The little menace was teasing them about letting a spider slip. No one could figure out what he meant until Chrollo was abducted. He didn't have a plan and didn't inform the rest of them why they were rampaging that quaint village. He was just focused on the truth and the possibility of your existence.
Your eyes flutter open and focus on him. “C-Chrollo?”
It only takes a few seconds for you to understand the situation. His intentions, beliefs, and your place. You were right before. Number four is taken. As well as eight. Now, the other numbers of the members lost are filled as well. Have you figured out that there is no room for you? That this cushy bed is temporary?
Do you remember the hours before you fainted? He does. That and all of the memories he has of you.
You take a few deep breaths. “What’s going to happen to me?” He stands and looks down at you. Your eyes remain on the ground. He hates that. Worst of all, he hates that
------
THEN
He walks in the church with another basket of flowers. He hears Father Rizole talk to a nun around the corner. Before he can even make out what they’re saying, he sees a little girl stand next to the priest. Fists balled, eyes red, and surprisingly, in decent clothes. You can’t be from here. Not when you have name brand shoes that fit perfectly, and a hair that looks properly taken care of. Plus, you have a healthy structure.
With you in front of the window, the sun shines behind you, creating a halo. He can’t help but stare. Is this how the outside looks? Like angels? You have to be a little younger than him. But is it possible that someone young can be a wrathful angel? There’s no way you’re not one. Not with how fires burn in your eyes and the glow of your skin looking heavenly.
Unable to stop, Chrollo walks towards you with sweaty palms. His basket suddenly feels heavier the closer he gets. He gulps as he stands right in front of you. Your eyes remain low, like you don’t even register him.
“My name is Chrollo. What’s yours?” His voice is shaky. You don’t answer much to his dislike. Father Rizole speaks. “This is (Y/n) (L/n), a new resident. (Y/n) has only been here for a few days. I haven’t gotten around to giving a tour. Actually, Chrollo, will you watch (Y/n) for a moment? Maybe look around the church.”
Chrollo’s eyes light up at the proposition even though he wonders if the priest is lying about something. “I’d love to! Leave it to me!” Father Rizole presses his hand on your upper back and gives you a slight push to Chrollo. “Here, look around. Meet some friends. You know what? I bet you can use a snack. How about that?”
“I’ll take (Y/n) to the kitchen!” He’s excited. Not only can he hang out with you but you can share a snack. “Sarasa made some cookies with Sister Mary. Find her and have fun!”
Father Rizole asks to speak to the nun in private. She hurries away with one last slightly scared look at you. They leave you to Chrollo’s charge. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, okay? I’ll show you everything.” He tries to grab your hand but you yank it away. He doesn’t like that at all. His eye twitches a little. Especially since you still won’t look at him.
The two of you still haven’t found Sarasa with the cookies. Truly, Chrollo is starting to feel a little embarrassed. Here he is saying you can have cookies and he can’t provide them. “H-hey, I’ll show you one of my favorite spots. It’s safe so don’t worry.”
He guides you to a meadow of the same wild flowers he carries in his basket. Your eyes are still to the ground, not taking in its beauty. He’s twitching again.
“Why won’t you look? Can you not see?” His voice raises when he doesn’t mean too. Before he can say anything else, you plop to the ground. He gasps and tends to you. “Are you okay?”
There’s a heaviness in the pit of his stomach and a fear of you being hurt. “I-I’ll get a grown up!”
You sniffle. He waits to see what you’ll do next. Again, you sniffle and start to shake. “Y-you’re crying…are you okay?”
“I’m not crying! I don’t cry!” You yell as you shed tears. You finally look at him. “I don’t cry. I don’t care! I’m not…not…” You struggle to speak. Your eyes widen in surprise when you touch your face. You throw yourself on Chrollo, with your head on his chest. He instinctively wraps his arms around you as you wail. “I-I don’t know!”
You struggle with articulating your feelings, opting to scream, cry, and smack his chest instead. He knows you aren’t meaning to hurt him which is why they don’t.
He pets your hair that is decorated with barrettes. You smell and feel nice. “It’ll be okay. I’ll protect you. We’ll have lots of fun too.” He pats your back. After a bit, you calm down and are back to sniffling and heavy breaths. He takes some flowers and puts them in the hair between the barrettes.
“Am I pretty?” You touch the flowers in your hair gently. The look on your face is so innocent and vulnerable. He wants to cradle and protect it forever. He gives you a warm smile and with pure honesty, he confesses, “The mostest. Nothing compares.”
Sarasa appears with a plate of cookies. “Father Rizole said you were looking for me?”
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PRESENT
“Get that fake look off your face.” He cuts through with a tongue as sharp as a knife. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Reluctantly, you do. “Do you understand your place?”
You close your eyes for a second. “Not in the Spider. It’s filled.” He hums in affirmation. “So, where do you go?”
“The grave?” You sound too hopeful for his liking. He gets up from the chair and grabs your face. His eye twitches slightly, a dead giveaway of his anger. “That’s too sweet, isn’t it? Too poetic.”
“Chrollo, please let me go. It’s time, Chrollo.” He is a master at masking his emotions. Someone who had lost himself enough to fit any puzzle piece needed for a mission. For Neon, he just needed a mask that barely required effort. It was a person who he created for someone as naive as Neon. Over time, he has been able to handle so many personalities. He’s trained to keep emotions inside. Ha, leave it to you to rip that away.
He starts to shake in anger at the audacity of not only you and your question, but his reaction. His heart had hurt at the thought of you leaving again. Images of the day he lost you do nothing but run wild. The day he met you to the last, to the present, all rush before him.
When your body disappeared, he thought of where he’d put your memory. It didn’t take long to think of the meadow. Where he put flowers in your hair, calmed you down, the place where you first hugged him and cried into his chest and was unable to fully articulate your emotions about your asshole parent. He went to the meadow and created a small shrine in your honor, right where you first hugged him.
It was the right thing to do. The perfect place, one that no one has visited in a while. He regretted that immensely.
He lets your face go. With a low voice he declared, “Darling, you will never leave me again.”
You begin to sink at his words, fists balling against the bare mattress.
-------
THEN
“Chrollo, I have to go sometime.” He doesn’t like this. Lately, you’ve grown into that phase of wanting to explore. Talking of how life is outside, away from the city. You remember some of it and long for its familiarity. Years ago, Chrollo had been fascinated by it. It was one of the reasons he was so drawn to you.
“Not alone.” He says with finality. His words cause you to glare at him. “You don’t tell me what to do. I’ll go as I please. I’m practically an adult!”
You're fourteen, the same age he was when he created the Spider. He clenches his fist. “You’re fourteen! That’s a child.”
“Oh, look at you! You murdered countless people since you were eleven and created your little clique when you were fourteen. All I want is to go home!”
He slams his fist down on the table. Clearly, you force yourself not to jump. “That’s different! And this is your home!”
He can tell you didn’t like that one bit. You point around the area. “I am not from this God forsaken place. This is not my home or my people.”
“This is your home. You are staying!” He shouts. He’s never raised his voice at you before. Your eyes widen for a split second then fill with determination.
“No, I’m not. You can’t tell me what to do. You're making it seem like a bad thing. Whi le I just want to go home, you and your posse run havoc and ruin everything! What’s so wrong with me going home?”
The Phantom Troupe is his sensitive spot, and you know it. Yet you deliberately push it every single time just to hurt him. Chrollo is weak for you, he admits it and everyone knows it. Despite his love, there is an anger that brews inside him wanting to lash out. Degrading the spider is not allowed, you leaving is definitely off the table. Finally, he lets a tiny bit of that venom out for you to feel.
He leans in close to you, not breaking eye contact.
“Do you expect them to just open their arms to you? That doesn’t happen! You’ll die out there. And you think you’re ready for them, ha! You look for validation and throw a tantrum when it’s not given. How far do you think that will get you, huh? No one will care.”
He’s breathing heavy, panicking at the image of your back turned, leaving the city limits. He sees you live a life of poverty again or worse, a life without him. Marrying someone, having children, a cat and dog, and living in a house. He doesn’t see himself in these scenarios. It’s driving him mad with rage.
Look at him. Look at him! Stop looking down!
Your body starts to shake. Your head hasn’t lifted to face him since he spoke. When it does, he immediately regrets his wish.
Filled with hurt, you strike back. “At least I know what things are without having to read about it! Experience them without stalking people! I know who I am and don’t depend on a book to find the answer,” You rub your eyes. “But I have a name! I’m not staying here and wasting it anymore.”
You run away from Chrollo who stands stiff. He didn’t mean to make you cry. He was just mad that you thought of leaving. Your words hurt a lot, but nothing compared to the knowledge that he made you cry.
Much to his dismay, you don’t talk to him. In fact, you avoid him all together.
At least that thought of you leaving left your mind.
Over the course of a few years, you avoided him and didn’t talk to him. He had to watch you from the sidelines, growing and learning. He wanted to help you read and do math. Proving him wrong every time you did it. Chrollo, thankfully, got a nen ability that allowed him to be invisible. He’d watch you closely, seeing how much you followed Father Rizole and his studies.
You even took up various weaponry since you still had pent up aggression. Father Rizole was hesitant at first lest you aim at someone who annoyed you. Chrollo supported your hobby wholly. He went directly to Father Rizole and encouraged the priest to allow it. Chrollo even provided the equipment, unbeknownst to you.
The old priest wondered how he knew but Chrollo managed to convince him that he had heard through the grapevine and that people marveled at your talent. Upon hearing this, the caring priest caved. Despite everything, the children of Meteor city were like his own, including the Troupe and you.
After your training and studies, you go to your room and throw yourself on the bed. Chrollo managed to sneak in just in time. Suddenly, the most shocking thing happened.
You’re touching yourself. Your hands slip under your shirt. He sees your hands move and massage your chest. By the expression on your face, something soft and curious, you’re beginning to like it. Who did this to you? A rageful red is all he can see now.
Right before you can explore further, you gasp at the knock at the door.
The same day, he heads to the books, trying to calm himself down. Remaining on the sidelines and respecting your space was not the right move. Or perhaps it was, and he just let it go on for too long. Not when someone is latching on to you, making you feel things you shouldn't. As angry as that thought makes him, he couldn't just go up and demand for you to return to him. So, he figured it was best to look in a book for some kind of answer.
The book had an excellent plot with a sweet side of romance. He studies it closely. He’s seen it in movies and plays, but books just explain it better. None of the characters share similarities with you. He can become and act like any of these people. You, however, are an immovable force of nature. They do not compare to you.
Book after book after book, shows nothing that you’d accept. What’s he going to do? After looking at the sky, Chrollo remembers what you had said.
“At least I know what things are without having to read about it! Experience them without stalking people! I know who I am and don’t depend on a book to find the answer,”
That’s right. He can’t go to a book for this. Getting you can’t be written unless in the stars. However, he’s experienced this before. Knowing who you are and what love is. He perks his head up. The meadow. How he put flowers in your hair after comforting you. He closes whatever book that was and puts it with the twenty others he was reading to study.
He asks Father Rizole your whereabouts. “Last I know, she was talking to Ray.”
Is that the one who made you desperate? On your bed, touching places you wished were caressed by someone else? Schooled in controlling his expressions, Father Rizole doesn’t know any different. Chrollo excuses himself and gives a lame excuse of why he asked.
Once he leaves, he sets out to find Ray. From what he remembers, Ray was an average looking boy who, in Chrollo’s opinion, was annoying. He chewed and slurped too loud, his laugh was obnoxious and for some reason, felt the need to always be right even when wrong. Chrollo distinctly remembers how Ray talked to you when you were younger. He was always flirtatious and tried to get close to you. So, in a dubbing performance when Chrollo played a villain, he looked directly at Ray through it all. Apparently, Chrollo was terrifying at that moment.
By luck, he spots Ray blushing. The boy doesn’t notice the predator yet. The one who's eying every move Ray makes, waiting to strike.
“Chrollo? Is that you?”
He smiles and walks towards Ray, whose eyes are big. The Troupe has a reputation that has reached many ears. No doubt that is the reason for Ray’s nervous behavior.
“How have you been?” The boy nervously laughs. “Uh, good. Y-you? Y’know, besides the killing and stuff.”
“I’ve been fine. Actually, I need your help.”
Ray squeaks and backs away. “No, Ray. Not like that. It’s for more personal matters. Man to man.”
He visibly starts to relax around Chrollo the more the latter talks. “So, do you think white flowers will do?”
“Hm, I like red better.” Chrollo nods his head, taking in this information. “And your beloved?”
“I-I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ray’s cheeks are red. Chrollo chuckles, “Come on, I’ve heard some things. Tell me about it. It’ll make me feel more comfortable making my move.”
“Oh, well, I haven’t asked (Y/n) out yet.” Chrollo pats Ray on the back a little too harshly. “Why don’t you? I mean, she’s here, right?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know…”
“Go for it. You helped me a lot.”
“Alright, I will! If she says yes…where would I even take her? It’s not like Meteor City has a lot to offer.” Chrollo has his arm around Ray’s shoulders.
“Where else? There’s a meadow not too far from here. There are lots of flowers there. Just tell her you’ll meet her there. She’ll love it.”
“Thanks, Chrollo!” He practically skips away, heading to you.
“Tell me how it goes!” Chrollo calls out and gives him a thumbs up. Now, all he has to do is wait. Chrollo leans against the wall with his arms crossed. No one is around in the halls. He cracks his neck and sighs, taking in the few rays of the sun that peek through the windows. Ray soon runs back to him with a wide smile on his face.
“She said yes! She’ll be there this afternoon. I couldn’t have done it without you, Chrollo.”
“No, no. You did this yourself. Just needed a little push. Hey, do you know where the meadow is exactly?”
“Um, it’s-”
“Towards the forest. Just go west, a few feet in. It’ll be paradise.”
This scene feels so familiar.
Chrollo sits in the meadow, taking in the scent of the wildflowers. He hears footsteps and already knows who it is. He calms his heartbeat and looks to the source of the noise. You say nothing. Even though it eats at him, he takes you acknowledging his existence as a win.
Play it cool, play it cool.
“Hi, (Y/n).” His voice gives a slight crack. Dear God, he must sound lame.
“Hello, Lucilfer.” Your voice is as sweet as honey though your tone is slightly bitter. Your use of his last name stings a little but is softened when he remembers that you’re the one who gave him that name years ago.
“How have you been?” His legs lay long and unbothered, and he rests on his hands. He hopes he looks calm, maybe even suave. He’s matured in these few years despite his voice cracking a few seconds ago.
“You can’t be here. I have a date.” You continue to stare down at him with indifference.
“A date? With whom?” Your face remains the same. “With Ray. Leave.” Chrollo in the nick of time, stops his facade of nonchalance from cracking. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll leave.”
Your eyebrows raise at his willingness.
The moon has come out and the sun is gone. There are no stars above, just clouds. Lightning bugs float around to make up for those lost twinkles in the sky. Chrollo then makes his move. “How’d it go?”
“Shut up, Lucilfer.”
“Damn…that badly? What happened? Did he do something?” Chrollo’s voice raises in concern despite the fact he knew good and damn well nothing happened.
You mumble something incoherent. “What?” Chrollo walks a little closer. When you fall to your knees, he’s next to you in an instant. “No! What’s wro-”
“He didn’t show up!” You yell with tears running down your face, illuminated by the moonlight. “So, there! Laugh it up! You were right.”
Chrollo’s is now confused and worried. He doesn’t like you crying. He hates to see you sad.
“You said no one would care and you were right. So, laugh! I know you want to!” He’s genuinely taken back. He didn’t remember saying that at all. His shoulders drop. So, this is what’s wrong...
“I care about you. I want you. He might not see you, but I do. Do you understand? I want you.” Your lip wobbles just before you throw yourself on him, cuddling to his chest, just like the first time. This time, he feels more capable.
He lets you cry it out. He decides to apologize. “I’m sorry for saying that. I’m just a big dummy.”
You cry for several minutes. Finally, you settle for sniffles. “Here, these will make you happy.” Chrollo puts wildflowers in your hair. He doesn’t go near the red ones.
You gently touch them, tears drying on your face. “Does it look good?”
“Gorgeous.” You’re not leaving him again.
----
PRESENT
Much to your reluctance, he drags you out of the room. Your bare feet skid along the wooden floor, trying to resist his pull. This only makes him tug harder. You wince and lessen your fight.
Chrollo sees you look around, taking it all in. He has a more modern taste that is complete with an extensive library. You were always one to throw in some kind of weird decoration for it to not look so ‘bland’. That’s what you wanted. He preferred to have simplicity and elegance.
You say nothing as he continues to lead you out of a bedroom and land in the foyer. “Where are we going?”
“Down memory lane.” He opens a green portal from his book. It rotates like a flipping coin.
“Do you remember this?” He’s holding your hand, guiding you through the carnival. It looks the same as it did last time. Even the night sky looks similar. The stars still shine and twinkle as they did before. The cotton candy vendor is different, but it’s made the same way. The elephant ears are still bigger than a human’s head. Laughing families are still joyous and oblivious to the monster with a book.
“What about this?” He brings you to that damn roller coaster. He notices how your legs rub together ever so slightly. You probably don't even realize that you did it. “I’ve seen better.”
He clutches your hand tighter. “How about here? Have you seen better?” He guides you into the house of mirrors. The place where you lost your virginity. The blue striped building still looks the same and is still barely used. Back then, he made sure to make the experience special for you even if it happened in the heat of the moment. Not just because of the pact that was cemented, but because it was you.
His tone is bitter after the memory of your legs wrapped around him and the understanding he had. At the time, he could feel the promise of him being your only. Until he found out that you gave yourself to another. Like it all meant nothing. As if you giving him a name meant nothing. As if he meant nothing.
You gave him his last name. Before that, he didn’t have one. Here you came into his bleak life and lightened it up with an identity. A compass on the open ocean and a light in the darkest of tunnels. Apparently to you none of it matters.
Chrollo wears a smile. “I haven’t been here in years. You?”
“I haven’t either, Lucilfer.” Although you named him, it stung that you don’t address him properly. A nickname he never wanted to stop hearing.
“You sure? You didn’t fuck anyone else in here?” You gasp a little. “No. Even if I did, it’s none of your business.”
He clutches your hand tighter. “Let us reminisce then, dearest.”
The two of you waltz in the house of mirrors. The glass is confusing, and the lighting gives an eerie feel. It’s brighter than last time. “What’re we doing in here anyway?”
“Showing you what you left. Do you remember the fun we had over the years? The passion?”
“I remem-” You stop talking when you hear rattling. “Keep your voice down, someone else is here.” You warn.
“Are you scared, my darling?” He notices that you hold his hand closer to you. “No! I can take care of myself just fine. I’m embarrassed. Here you are talking about old shit and someone can hear!”
“Old shit…” He whispers. You nod. Suddenly, the noise gets closer until you see a familiar blond head. “Kurapika!”
Your eyes light up when you see him, the red eyed killer. His eyes are the purest form of the color. Filled with rage and wrath in them, they glow. Before you can even take a step forward, Kurapika launches his attack. Brutal chains race towards you with the intent to kill and scare. You don’t even realize it, Chrollo notes.
“(Y/n)!” He grabs you one handedly to dodge it. You are in his right arm, shocked and heartbroken. “Pika…”
The boy you took care of shouts obscene things at you. Chrollo growls and puts you behind him protectively. “(Y/n), run away!”
“No! Are you joking? I’m not leaving.” You shout back. Kurapika runs towards you, ready to attack again. “Kurapika, kid, please just list-”
Chrollo once again picks you up and takes you out of the house. The beach is calm and void of people. He puts you down far enough to where he thinks you’ll be safe. “Stay here!”
“Chrollo, please, don’t kill him!” You sit on the cool sand illuminated by the moonlight. You grab his hand and plead.
“After this? After Paku and Uvo?” You nod. “Please, that…that’s my boy.” Your body is shaking not from fear, but from disorientation as the killer runs out of the building and spots you. Your lip wobbles and Chrollo leans down and touches your cheek.
“I’ll try to avoid it. But love, if it can’t be helped, please forgive me.”
A tear slides down your cheek. He wipes it away and faces the furious Kurapika who has yet to address you with manners. That alone is reason enough for death. Chrollo opens his book, pretending not to notice your flinch. He flips through the pages, dodging every chain the boy sends.
It’s a fight that rivals the Zoldyck’s. The one where he thought of you when Silva launched his nen ability directly at him and Silva’s father, Zeno. Chrollo at the time had wondered what you were thinking when it happened to you. How funny is it that you were alive and well the whole time?
None of the boy’s chains touch him. He gets closer and closer to the blond. Every kick and twist the boy sends is futile. Chrollo has years of experience on him.
Sand lifts up from one of the kid’s kicks. The sand blocks the view momentarily then shows the boy on the ground once it settles. Chrollo’s book flips the page when the scarlet eyes try to raise up again.
“Chrollo, no!” You scream. The fight was happening so fast, and you were so confused that you didn’t act or even process it. You run towards them to separate it. “Please, please, he’s just a kid! He’s mad and scared-”
You finally realize why the boy is on the ground. There is a big gash on his side. A wound so deep that allows blood to soak the earth. “N-no…”
You try to touch him but you’re panicking. Chrollo can see your eyes widen and your pupils dilate. Never has he seen you so scared, delirious even. It breaks his heart.
“Love, breathe, breathe.” He calmly encourages. You take little breaths. “W-why? How could you?”
“I’ll fix it. Tell me how. I need to know.”
“I can do it!” You try to push his hand away. He sighs and shakes his head no. “You can’t stop shaking. Please, let me help you.”
You explain it the best you can. Chrollo watches as you stutter and stumble over your words. It isn’t much but it’ll do. “I don’t understand fully. Show me!”
"Stop fucki-stop screaming!" Your eyes flick over the boy's body repeatedly. Chrollo can see it in your eyes that you are drifting as you make eye contact with the boy's scarlet eyes.
Chrollo's eye twitches. "(Y/n)!"
There’s an urgency in his voice once the blond kid’s breathing becomes ragged. "I’m a-an exorcist not a healer. Oh God, what if I can’t-”
“Try your best, my love.” He kisses the side of your head and rubs your back. Your eyes are still fearful and shocked despite his efforts. Finally, your hand is out, and you whisper words that only the chanter and nen itself can understand. A symbol displays itself on the ground, surrounding the bloody young man on the ground.
Then it immediately stops. All of it does. Not only does your technique leave you, but the image of the teen disappears. There is no blood, no death before you. Only Chrollo Lucilfer and a guy with an undercut.
“Kurapika? Kurapika!” You search the sand in the spot he was laying on. You mutter his name repeatedly. You look up and study the guy before you.
He can see you recognize him: Milluka Zoldyck. With a handy ability to give illusions. It’s an odd choice for a Zoldyck, especially one that never leaves the house. The young man laughs at you and your devastation. There's a flame in Chrollo's chest that is too familiar as he watches you be laughed at.
“Thank you for your service.” Chrollo says. Milluka doesn't have time to respond when a gun conjures in Chrollo’s hand. He fires without hesitancy or remorse. The guy falls down with a look of betrayal. Although Milluka had a handy technique, he wasn't worth anything.
Chrollo turns around to look at you. To his surprise, you are on your back with your arm over your eyes, weeping. You were so caught up in the scarlet eye boy that you didn’t notice anything off. You couldn’t even control yourself from meeting his conditions. Him questioning it and your answer, then having to witness your nen ability. That went according to plan, but the kicker is that you touched his book on accident. You were so distressed that you didn't realize your hand landed directly on it when you went to the boy's side.
Distracted and careless is what you are. He taught you better than that. “(Y/n), get up.” His voice is colder now, more commanding than it had been seconds ago.
You don’t get up or even look at him. Your arm is still over your eyes, only letting tears flow. “Let me go.”
He grabs the sides of your face, pulling you up. “I did what I had to do. The house of mirrors was just to remind you.”
“Of what?” You whisper. He can see the despair in your eyes.
“Of us. Of the lengths I will go for it. Your nen means nothing to me. That boy is nothing. You my love, my dear,”
He places a kiss with each word. “My heart,”
“My compass,” He presses his forehead to yours, his hands still holding on. “My very soul. You are everything to me and I will not lose you again.”
You sob. “You’re insane…where’s the boy I once knew? How did you end up this way?” You try to separate yourself from him. His hands shake your head a little.
With a hiss, Chrollo clears, “I was always this way.”
