HES SO CUTE LOOK AT HIM. JUST CHEWING AWAY HAPPILY. I love him sm(You and Gon are around the same age here)
Gon would be super oblivious to any signs you’ve given him, showing that you liked him more than a friend
Killua would constantly tease you about your feelings for Gon, always making kissy faces when you were around him
You might or might have not bonked Killua on the head for that
When Gon and Killua are having a conversation, Killua often hints that you like Gon, but he’d just think you were being nicer than usual, not thinking about it too much
Killua knows that Gon likes you too, he’s just too oblivious about his feelings to acknowledge it
“Killua, what do you think (y/n) would like as a gift? Maybe I should look for something really special!”
His gifts would be random stuff he finds that remind him of you, like a colorful rock that happened to be your favorite color
He’d also bring you cute frogs he’d find hopping around on stones, and let you hold them for a bit before letting it hop back into the bushes
When Gon would be really close to you, Killua would snicker at you two blushing because of the closeness
We all know how stubborn Gon could be at times, so he tries not to get his emotions in the way during fights, but once the enemy mentions your name, he gets defensive fast, especially if your life is at risk
Gon would think more than act when you’re in a bad situation, and not be so careless about things.
So he’d be very protective of you, always making sure you’re okay and putting your needs before his own
If you were sad, Gon would be right there next to you, comforting you the best he can and would offer you two to get ice cream to calm down
Life with Gon was never boring, he’d take you out to have fun adventures with him and invite you to aunt Mitos house for sleepovers<3
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Chrollo is awful here Big Time oh lord oh god oh no, unbalanced power dynamics. Word count:2.3k.
It was a testament to the poor quality of your company when every red light you received felt akin to personal torture.
Optimism, that’s what you need. Some adjustment in your mindset that will allow you to view this glass as half full rather than half empty. Optimism. How you loathe the word. You felt optimistic this morning, while eating warm pastries from the hotel’s continental breakfast on your room’s balcony. At lunch when you visited a café and found your drink was already covered, another customer had paid it forward. There was no way you could’ve predicted the sweet taste of the day turning dry and sour a few short hours later.
He’s saying something, you think, spinning pretty words from the loom that is his mouth. You pay him no mind. Rather, you find interest in the shifting landscape of your hometown, as observed from the passenger seat’s tinted windows.
The video rental shop you looked forward to visiting every Friday has been replaced by a liquor store. Your favorite diner is gone now too, the land bulldozed and the signs standing upon its grave promising ample warehouse space as soon as next year. How odd, since the day they promised potential leasers the project to be complete passed about five years ago. A waste, what a waste.
“Are you intent on ignoring me all night? That isn’t very mature of you, [First].”
Maybe you’d think better of it if you were in a clearer state of mind, since alcohol’s pleasant buzz holds you prisoner now, but you respond with unbridled antipathy.
“Did you expect me to be in a talkative mood?”
“When there’s so much to discuss, yes.”
He’s not wrong on that front. You’d rather cut your own tongue out than admit it, though.
“There isn’t anything to discuss,” your rebuttal comes swift. Panicked. “I just want to get back to my hotel and sleep.”
“Hence my driving you, dear.”
“No, you’re driving me because my mom insisted—”
The words lodge themselves in your throat and you make no effort to free them. It isn’t right. For him to be here, where you grew up. In the town where you got your first part-time job, begged your older sibling to drive you to the mall on the weekends so that you could hang out with your friends, crushed over a cute boy from your class who worked at the movie theater. Chrollo didn’t belong here. It’s intrusive, a violation, a breach of your personal privacy to the highest degree. If your body rejects foreign pathogens that would seek to do you harm, it only makes sense that you would give him the same treatment.
Home is supposed to be your sanctuary — his presence is defiling that. Corrupting and warping it as if to say you could never be rid of him. It didn’t matter if you locked the doors and held them shut. He would always find a way in. Always.
“Did you lose your train of thought?”
“Yes,” you lie without hesitation. He knows it, you’re certain he does, but he’s already claimed victory. In the aftermath of a battle, the victor takes inventory of what they’ve gained. That has to be what he’s doing now. Sorting through the spoils and gloating.
“A pity,” Chrollo confesses. Though you don’t look at him, you can tell he’s smiling by his voice alone. “I would’ve loved to hear your thoughts.”
“Somehow, I’m doubtful about that.”
Yet again, in another show of mockery from a cruel and indifferent universe, the traffic light overhead turns red upon your approach. Just like its predecessor. And the one before that. You’d think it was rush hour by the traffic lights alone, but it’s eleven o’clock at night, and you haven’t seen another car in minutes.
“On the topic of your family…” he trails off, purposeful in prolonging the silence, so that your suspense might accumulate. You grip your clutch tighter. “I wish I’d gotten to meet them sooner. We never got around to it, did we? Ah, the stories from your childhood were especially a delight. The senior photo in your father’s wallet was too. You’ll have to tell me what quote you picked sometime.”
You don’t want to think about it, you don’t want to think about it. How a murderer shook hands with your father. Made pleasant small talk with your mother. Discussed cars and current events with your brother. All the while you sat sinking in the restaurant’s booth, your appetite lost, forced to regurgitate some flimsy excuse about why your family had never met your oh-so charming ‘friend’.
“To think I’ve been your first boyfriend in such a long time, too. Your ex still lives in this town, doesn’t he? Working at that… hm, what was it… gas station. I wonder if I’ll get to meet him as well.”
“We are notdating, not anymore,” you remind him, aghast. “And that’s a respectable occupation, anyway.”
“By your father’s tone, he certainly didn’t seem to think so.”
That’s right. What an excellentjob Chrollo did at establishing himself as appealing in every prospect, from the choice sports car sitting in the parking lot for them to ogle over, to paying for everyone’s dinner by the night’s end. How they must’ve thought reciprocating his affections would be a no-brainer. Still, you place no blame on your family — everything is his fault from beginning to end. There was a time when you were similarly so blinded by his presence that you assumed there was no darkness to be found.
“You have zerobusiness judging the employment of others with the line of ‘work’ you’re in.”
“Perhaps. And yet,” with the hand not on the steering wheel, he motions to your person. “You have no problem wearing a dress I obtained from my despicable ‘line of work’.”
Heat rises to your face and situates itself there, letting you know it won’t be going away anytime soon.
The garment had already cast guilt on you. After discovering the truth behind Chrollo’s weeks of absence and seemingly endless pit of money, you rid yourself of every material item he’d ever given you. Bags, jewelry, purses, shoes, and clothes; they were either donated or thrown out as looking at them for too long nauseated you. This dress was the lone exception, not that arguing this point would do you any good. You were reminded of your cousin’s wedding and the subsequent need to fly home for it while ridding yourself of his gifts.
The high-end places you’d undoubtedly be attending for such an event spurred you to save one, just one, of his expensive presents. Never had you expected to “coincidentally run in” to him and be subjected to his torments over the moral ambiguity.
After what feels like an eternity, he turns into the hotel you were able to reserve on a limited budget; a potential light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe he’ll part ways with you here. Sever whatever connection bound you in the past, giving you freedom to pursue a future without him in the picture. He should feel satisfied over the agony he subjected you to this evening. For months, if not years, you’ll endure questions from your family about that fascinating stranger who happened upon you that one night and proved himself a desirable bachelor.
“Did you not work out? Have you ever thought about contacting him again? Maybe smooth things over?” Queries such as this would be your personal agony, handcrafted by the man in question himself.
“There’s no need to sit there and pout,” Chrollo reassures, though his words promise the opposite of that. “You look lovely in it. And as you said, I have no business judging others.”
He doesn’t, but he’s going to anyway.
You shrink into yourself when he places his arm behind the passenger seat, a habit you noticed he has whenever he backs up. Before, it birthed life to butterflies in your stomach, but now, you want to create as much distance as possible. No space would ever feel like enough.
He turns the keys in the ignition and the car’s humming falls silent.
For some time, the both of you sit there, neither moving nor making a sound. Your eyes remain firm on your lap while you can feel his stare searing into your profile. You’re agitated, at a loss on what to do, and most pressing of all, you’re tired. His presence promises more than ill-timed appearances and caustic words meant to eat away at your high defenses. Considering this, your stomach twists painfully. No amount of faux bravado on your part can hide your apprehension from him. He smells it out, like a shark sensing blood in water.
All you had in your arsenal were words, sharp yet ultimately harmlesswords. What he boasted in his… you dread the thought.
“What do you want, Chrollo?”
It’s not that you want to ask, but that you feel there’s no other option available. This was a merry-go-round ride that would keep spinning until one of you fell off, and if anyone was going to fall, it would be you.
“I’ll let you decide that.”
He sounds sincere, however, you know better than to believe that. Suspicion must be written all over your face. He takes your hand in his and you let him. You wonder if he knows it’s his hands you fear the most, rivaled only by his hollow eyes that at times appear omnipotent. As they do now. At any given moment, he could see all of you, while you saw a mere fraction of him.
Maybe it’s a blessing he revealed only so much. If you witnessed the full depths of his depravity, you might never surface for air again, drowning in a vat thicker than tar.
How can so much darkness permeate from another human being? It was times like this where you couldn’t be certain if he wasone.
“I’ll either stay or leave by your discretion,” he announces, causing your eyebrows to scrunch together. Just when you thought you’d taught yourself to expect the unexpected with him, he finds new ways to throw you off-balance.
This has to be a trick. Something is hiding in the fine print, and you’re intent on finding out. “What does you staying look like?”
“You were always quick on the uptake,” he’s pleased, evidently, a factor he makes known by pressing a chaste kiss to your hand. All your self-control goes into not pulling yourself free. It may have been intuition or paranoia, but something told you he’d sooner let you dislocate your shoulder than allow you to pull away. Not after he’s waited months for this.
“We’ll get out of this car together. You’ll let me into your hotel room — your bed — then your life. Your parents invited you to breakfast tomorrow, didn’t they? I’ll come with you. I’ll see your childhood home, look at old photo albums at your mother’s behest and laugh at the stories she tells me from your youth. I’ll compliment the arrangement of the furniture, how the colors go together just so. She’ll be simply taken with me. Your father, too, naturally. I’ve already begun to make excellent progress on that front.”
You don’t think you could breathe if you wanted to.
Chrollo leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper that made your earlier dinner want to claw back up your throat.
“I will attend your cousin’s wedding this weekend as your date. I’ll charm your aunts, impress your uncles. Play with your nieces and nephews. You can introduce me however you like. A friend, a colleague from work. They’ll know. They’ll read between the lines. They’ll ask when they can expect to see you walk down the aisle to me someday in the future. You can cry, if you so please, but they’ll simply mistake it as a maiden who is head over heels in love. I’ll tell them to keep their calendars free next June, and they’ll laugh, perhaps you will too.”
He squeezes your hand to anchor you. Otherwise, you think your mind would’ve given you the reprieve of going someplace else, someplace safe and sane and anywhere but here. Hell itself may be preferable, if you weren’t already there.
“I will insert myself so deeply into your life, that to cut me out, you’d have to slice into yourself as well.”
You’re trembling now, like a leaf caught in a hurricane, with no hope of ever reaching solid ground again. Pushed and pulled by the whims of a being that so plainly outclasses you in every category.
What could you do? What could you say? Did it even matter what approach you tried to take? The web was spun and you were caught. The more you struggle the deeper embedded you become.
So you play by his rules and voice yet another question you don’t really want to know the answer to.
“And…” your lips are dry, so terribly dry, as is your mouth, “If… if I ask you to leave?”
He pulls back — not that it matters. It still feels like he’s there, the warmth of his breath, the woody notes of his cologne. Haunting you. Dominating you. Asserting that this nightmare isn’t over, oh no, it’s just getting started.
“That’s simple,” Chrollo takes your pallid face in his hands, stroking your cheek, gazing down at your through thick eyelashes. What gleams in his lifeless eyes, you can’t say for certain. You think it might be best if you remain ignorant to it. “You’ll come with me.”
A kiss to your cheek. He lingers this time, you’re in no position to protest. He savors the closeness he brought by interlocking you to his person with ironclad handcuffs.
“So, what will it be? I stand by what I said earlier. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Be a dear and share them with me.”
ITS BEEN A WHILE!! I know. I’ve been very, very busy with work and projects and whatnot. So I wanted to vent a little. This lil tea is unrequested but very self indulgent. It’s not everyone’s Rose tea cup cuz I know y’all like the spicy type but this one goes for anyone who just needs to be comforted. The other teas are coming rest assure, I’m just slow. This one is short, enjoy!!
Your big project had been driving you up a wall and even though you always managed, tonight was the breaking point.
A really important deadline was coming right up and you had been preparing for months. Chrollo’s presence has been intermittent for the whole week. Coming in late at night to cuddle you while you sleep and leaving in the morning with encouragement notes posted all over the house. It wasn’t ideal but you understood he had things to do.
However you wished he would stay a while longer just to help you relax or give you advice. He was always good with his words.
As you scribbled away adjustments on the paper and click clackle a couple of notes on the keyboard, you didn’t noticed Chrollo coming in through the open balcony window. He was so silent. watching you sitting down on the floor with notebooks, sketchbooks, books and papers all spread around yet neatly placed. Your shoulders looked tense and usually by this time you’re already in bed for him to coddle. He loves watching your peaceful expression, the way your chest rises and falls and everything seems so calm in those moments. The memories bring a small smile and he can’t wait to relieve them tonight.
Chrollo knocks on the window and you jump looking behind you to see him smiling innocently. He looks boyish and it makes you smile. But you can’t do that now, you have to finish this thing in one and a half hour before the submission deadline.
“I love you but I have to hurry, hurry, hurry, right now. Come sit with me.” Chrollo lifted a brow coming to sit beside you.
“Do you want to help me?”
“Sure, tell me what to do”
You explained how to write the things while you would sketch the ideas down and then do the other stuff. Overall it was a nice bonding experience, that the two of you cherished. But an hour passed and you still had to make your presentation board, color more sketches and attached more notes.
You started sighing when there were 30 minutes left. Then your leg started swinging in anxiety as the minutes ticked away.
Chrollo noticed all the quirks, quiet telltales of your rising stress, but you still seemed to be managing it well and he was helping you, surely you could make it even if it wasn’t perfect.
That’s what he told you and for the most part you did just that. So when there were 5 minutes left you rushed to compile everything together, making sure it was readable.
3 minutes in and your computer started giving your problems. Everything was too slow. too sluggish.
“I’m gonna cry, come on, come on” you said jokingly, exasperated at the laptop. But Chrollo kept watching you and he knew better.
You didn’t made it and that was okay.
You even seemed to be in a lighter mood that is until everything was compiled and you realized it was a mess. Chrollo and you exchanged looks and you started laughing hard alongside with him. The two of you just laughing out the stress but when his eyes opened he realized you were sobbing and couldn’t really stop doing both things at once.
Chrollo tilted his head and chuckled with you, feeling a bit out of place with the situation. He grabbed your arms pulling you into him even though you’d till couldn’t stop laughing and sobbing. He held you close tucking your head under his chin, feeling your chest racking and the tears making a wet spot on his coat.
“It’s alright, love, maybe it was fate. Maybe there’s something better. That’s not the only way to get an interview, besides your work is halfway done now all you have to do is work out the kinks. I’ll help you” he kisses the top of your head as your fit subsides.
Chrollo hugs you close, rocking you a little bit, drawing circles on your back and petting your hair while you let everything out.
You felt high but now you’re just tired. After laughing and crying everything out at the same time it was understandable, so when your body went limp in his arms he smiled gently at you. Chrollo picked you up bridal style making sure your tucked in close to his heart.
“Come on, let’s take a shower, we can clean in the morning”
“Im sorry…thanks for helping me”
“It’s alright dear. There’s nothing to be sorry about”
Even though I’m slow requests are still open! Please refer to the pinned post at the beginning of my blog :)
The second of my 5k Event pieces, for the amazingly talented @uvobreakmylegs . Her work inspires me daily, and should be considered a must-read for anyone who likes quality hxh fics. She asked for a stylistic Pakunoda x Reader fic, and I ended up with writing an Apocalypse AU! fic!
Hope you enjoy it :D
WARNINGS: end of the world (obviously), descriptions of acid wounds, murder, gn! reader, descriptions of violence and violent intentions
The troupe prepared for a lot of futures.
Chrollo made contingency plans for all kinds of scenarios, usually in down time or after a heist had been completed: from countries sending full-on armies after the troupe to what the last remaining member should do in case the rest of the troupe got exterminated. He all kept them written down neatly in a little brown ledger, though he probably had copies lying around somewhere.
The boss was a man who planned in advance, enjoying both the way his plans worked flawlessly and how the unpredictability of the world and humans scrambled up his plans, yet even he’d never thought he’d need to prepare for the end of the world.
Why would he plan for something that would kill them all? There was no use making and preparing steps for something as definite as the apocalypse. The troupe, and the rest of mankind for that matter, would be dead. That would be the result. No need to think about it too long.
Chrollo had been mistaken.
The apocalypse, like anything, took a while to finish.
✰- Summary -✰ Your grandfather recently passed away leaving you a mysterious old book. Now you’re out to find someone who can tell you anything about it.
✰ - TW(s)- ✰ Death of a Family Member, OCCness, Really just Fluff
✰ - Note- ✰ Sorry if Chrollo comes off as a little OCC. I liked the concept and wanted to write a lighter piece with him.
✰ - Word Count- ✰2032
You weren’t very close to your father’s family. In all fairness you weren’t close to any of your family, but you were all the sort to at least gather for funerals. That dreary fall afternoon spent watching your paternal grandfather’s casket lowering into the ground actually felt quite uneventful. Some part of you felt pretty guilty for not being more upset. Judging by the crowd of so called mourners you likely weren’t alone in feeling that way. Your own father too busy to attend the procession himself. Busy with whatever a prohunter does. He’d made some remark about gramps “understanding” when you’d asked over the phone if he’d be there. After all, grampa was a pro too once, but he was old and forgotten about it seems. Maybe all his colleagues simply died before he did. If not they hadn’t cared to be there either.
General Disclaimer: I will do my best to keep the reader gender neutral and physically unspecific unless otherwise stated! The reader will be kept as realistic as possible but remember, it’s all subjective! Not everyone struggles with the same issues and this is a one person blog, so I really just have myself to try and make the reader relate to you! With that, I hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: Angsty themes, lime, unrequited crush, all these characters have issues (both internally and with each other).
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You were walking through the city with your new friend Kurapika. You had only met him a few weeks ago, but the two of you had already gotten close. The number one part about him that you had trouble with when talking to him was his life goal; to avenge his clan by eliminating the Phantom Troupe. Most people probably see his goal as honorable and heart-wrenching, providing their full support to him, but you couldn’t. Shortly before meeting Kurapika, you met Chrollo, the leader of the infamous troupe. There was an instant connection, for him being a master thief, you stole his heart easily, as he did the same to you. This led the two of you to spend as much time together as possible before Chrollo would inevitably leave for an unknown amount of time. He made you feel special, showering you with love, so did him being a mass murderer really matter? You knew it was wrong, but him being in your life felt right. Of course, you would never tell Kurapika this. He would flip out. You were sympathetic towards Kurapika and didn’t mean any harm to him, you just wanted to be there for him. Conversations with him could sometimes grow complicated as you had to navigate around not outwardly expressing dislike towards the group Chrollo holds over his own life, but not seem suspicious to Kurapika. In the kindness you had given to Kurapika, he trusted you far quicker than even he would like, but you had proved you were a good investment to give his trust to. You had to drop by your place to pick up your card so that you and Kurapika could go to dinner. Inviting Kurapika in, you ran off farther into the house, leaving Kurapika just inside the front door. Kurapika noticed an elegant-looking ivory-colored envelope and the side table by the door that read ‘Y/n’ in cursive. Out of curiosity, he picked up the envelope and opened it. When he took out the contents, he was astonished to find that it seemed to be a romantic poem, very worn looking as if it was from the 1600s. He proceeded to keep opening the letter, which was almost sickeningly romantic, but Kurapika was compelled to keep reading. You had never mentioned any secret admirer or romantic partner, so why would the letter be in your house untouched? Once he reached the end, his stomach dropped. The name signed at the bottom was Chrollo. Kurapika felt sick and dizzy. Why would you be receiving a love note from Chrollo? This was a cruel joke, especially as Kurapika was planning on asking you to date him tonight at dinner. Chrollo must have found out somehow and tried to woo you over himself, setting out to break his spirit. The idea seemed outlandish, but why else would it be here, unopened. As you walked back into the room and saw Kurapika with the letter in hand, you were puzzled
“Um, what do you have Kurapika?”
“A letter. I didn’t realize that the man who took away everything I loved also wanted you.”
Your eyes stared at the floor. You weren’t sure what to say. It was clear he had found out what was going on between Chrollo and you.
“Well um, Kurapika, I-”
“He really has set out on destroying everything I hold dear. But I’ll get my revenge. Come on Y/n, we should get you out of here. He knows where you are and I don’t want you getting hurt.”
You realized that he hadn’t figured out what was truly going on. But you couldn’t let this go on. Kurapika had already started walking over to you, reaching out to grab your hand. You panicked and weren’t sure how to ruin his perception of you. Kurapika had his hand on the door handle, but suddenly the handle moved and the door opened. Kurapika moved you both back a step, keeping you behind him. Chrollo was standing in the doorway, a book in his hand. Chrollo’s face stayed blank as Kurapika flew into a rage. Kurapika had let go of your hand and lunged at Chrollo. You desperately reached for Kurapika’s hand to prevent his attack but you didn’t reach his hand in time. Luckily, Chrollo stepped out of the way as Kurapika launched outside the door. You gasped, worried that Kurapika had gotten hurt speeding outside. Chrollo glanced out the door, indifferent to the greeting he received. You saw Kurapika over Chrollo’s shoulder, his eyes ignited with scarlet and chains in his hand. As he was racing back inside of the house, Chrollo pushed the door shut. You cringed at the sound Kurapika made as he slammed against the door and was aggressively opening it. Meanwhile, Chrollo slinked behind you. He lifted his right arm to press it against your eyes and push your head back. He connected his lips to your neck and pressed soft kisses down your neck to your collarbone. You heard the door open harshly, but couldn’t do a thing.
“Chrollo! Let her go!”
Chrollo moved his eyes from you, making eye contact with Kurapika.
“Why? I’m sure she enjoys this. What gives you a right to her heart? She loves me.”
The worst part about listening to this was Chrollo saw him as nothing. He was instigating conflict with Kurapika but could care less about the outcome. Chrollo planted a deep kiss on your neck but kept his eyes on Kurapika’s. All you could hear was the slight sound of steps and the door slam. Chrollo moved his arm from your eyes and removed his mouth from your neck. There was a warm, lingering wetness on your neck from his kiss.
“Why was he here?”
“We were going to go to dinner. I just had to stop by here and grab my card because I forgot it.”
“That’s fair. I’m glad I decided to come over.”
Why? So you could show that his new friend betrayed his trust?”
“I saved him more trouble than if you had told him. Dinner would have made things worse.”
“Why’s that?”
“He clearly likes you. But that’s probably not the case anymore.”
You were shocked. It really hadn’t hit you that Kurapika possibly had a crush on you. Chrollo took you with him to the couch, sitting you down next to him. He pulled out his book and started reading.
“Wait, you caused all this trouble because you wanted to read a book?”
“I also wanted to know if you got my letter. I hadn’t expected you to have company. But yes, I also wanted to read my book somewhere comfortable.”
He continued reading while you pondered how ridiculous Chrollo was. What a dork.
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Author Notes: Hey everyone! This isn’t the kinktober story I’ve been working on because it’s not finished, but I wanted to write something small and angsty for today! I really wanted to make this for a while so I’m glad I got around to it. My apologies to Kurapika though, he doesn’t deserve this poor treatment! If only he’d take Leorio’s phone calls, maybe he would be going on a date! We stan Kurapika in this house though, and I’m sorry to any Kurapika simps because your bae would get some much better from you. I also didn’t really think to end it as silly as I did, but we needed some sort of pick me up after betrayal and what not. We’re done being long winded though, see you later!
