Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chrollo has heard rumors. 

Rumors of the golden dragon that protects the little village of Lusko. He’s also heard that the scale of a dragon sells for two billion jenny. 

So in front of Lusko he stands, his troupe behind him, ready to cause some trouble to lure the beast out. 

That didn’t seem to be very necessary, for upon his first step into the village the sky darkened, and the sound of thunder rumbled. Or was that the beast's roar?

A mere second later, giant golden claws thudded down in front of him. 

Chrollo looked up into the beasts piercing red eyes, the dragon was at least twelve feet tall on all fours, its under belly was a soft white, it honestly looked like a giant golden snake with legs. 

The dragon puffed out smoke through its nose, pinning Chrollo’s hair to his forehead and making his jacket flap out behind him. Chrollo assumed he was supposed to take that as a threat. He wasn’t scared, rather he was in awe. 

This wasn’t his first time laying eyes on a dragon, he’s fought his fair share of giant reptiles, he’s only ever managed to kill one and to his disappointment, its body faded away, not giving him the time to take its scales. Other dragons ran when they saw him and his troupe coming. 

But he knows there's something different about this dragon. 

It’s a deity. A god of sorts. 

Meaning it has it’s mythical form, the dragon, and it’s human form to better communicate with mortals. 

A voice echoed in his head, cold and suspicious. 

State your business, mortal.

Chrollo smirked, all the more interested in the divine beast. 

“I’m here for your scales, be it one or many,” he stated confidently, taking great amusement in the way the dragon reared its head back. 

You will not touch a single one of my scales, let alone leave with one. 

The voice sounded calm yet angry. 

“How selfish, you have thousands, yet you won’t spare me any?” Chrollo asked with fake innocence. 

Foolish, the dragons scoff reverberated in his skull, The things you humans make out of dragon scales is ungodly and inhumane, I refuse. 

Chrollo’s brows furrowed at that. 

“Cures and medicines are made from dragon scales, you could save many lives,” he persisted. If push came to shove Chrollo could always take scales by force, but something about the dragon made him want to listen, to talk.

The only ones who can afford such cures are ones who have done bad and will do bad again, the voice took on an angrier tone, you mortals make poisons and spells and dabble where one should not! You will NOT leave with any of my scales.

Chrollo felt his first spike of frustration since the beginning of this encounter. 

“I was hoping you’d be more compliant about this, but you leave me no choice,” he signaled for his troupe to move forward, but none moved. In fact none had moved or spoken this entire time. 

He looked behind himself to see his troupe members frozen, still as statues. As if time around them had been stopped...

You think I don’t know who you are? That I didn’t know you were coming?

Chrollo met those red eyes again, a smile on his face. He had to meet the person in this dragon.

“I’ll leave in peace if you let me see your human form,” Chrollo spoke, being direct with his desires like he always has been.

Human form or dragon form, I can still kick your ass. 

“I don’t doubt it,” he chuckled at the dragon's smug reply. 

Fine. But first, why do you wish to see my human form. 

“Just curious, I wanted to see if the person matched the personality,” and to see if he found the person as attractive as the personality. 

Very well. 

The dragon's red eyes shut and smoke began creeping along its scales, filling the air until all Chrollo could see was the shadow of the great beast as it gradually shrank and changed shape. A pale, lithe form stepped out of the smoke, and much to Chrollo’s disappointment, that fine form was dressed in white robes with pale green bordering. 

“Satisfied, human?” Much smaller red eyes looked at him coldly, briefly sweeping over him with a calculating gaze. 

Chrollo’s voice left him in a whisper, “not quite…”

He took quick steps forward, lust running in his blood as he approached the divine being. 

“You must tell me your name,” Chrollo demanded, now just a few inches from the round face of the small blonde. 

“Hmph, you may call me Kurapika, you are quite bold Chrollo,” the dragon gods gaze was slightly heated, in the good way. “Not that I didn’t expect as much.”

Thin fingers wrapped themselves in the fur of his jacket, tugging him closer, bringing him to Kurapika’s eye level. 

“Lucky for you, I’m quite hungry…” red eyes appraised him once more, “It’s been decades since I’ve been in this form, may I count on you to satisfy my needs?”

“I’m more than happy to oblige,” Chrollo growled, capturing the lips of a god with his own.

Day 1 but posted on Day 2, oops

A little small and sloppy but imma try to write for each day so bare with me please 

Chapter Text

Kurapika groaned silently in horror. Of course his social science professor managed to partner him with the ONE AND ONLY person he would not ever willing partner with EVER. 

He glared at his pencil and paper, trying to ignore the smug, egotistic bastard that was walking straight for him. He, however, could not ignore the palm that was placed right in the center of his paper, quite literally forcing him to pay attention to his “dear” partner. 

“Move it,” he grit out, looking up and glaring viciously, his actions only made Chrollo smile wider. Kurapika swore this man got off on the irritation of others.

“No can do, love, you’re stuck with me,” the bastard even threw in a wink.

“The project isn’t due for two weeks,” he snapped back, pushing away Chrollo’s arm and tucking his papers into his bag, “and never call me love again, ever.”

“There’s nothing wrong in getting a headstart,” Chrollo says innocently, tilting his head in a puppy like way, “and sure thing, sweetheart.”

Kurapika tsked, standing up abruptly and marching off. 

These two weeks were going to be hell.

---

Chrollo was surprisingly diligent and serious when it got down to actually working on the project, but Kurapika remained wary. He wouldn’t be surprised if the “hard worker” act was a ploy to get in his pants. 

The black haired man had a reputation around campus. He was a player. Kurapika was pretty sure Chrollo has never been in a serious relationship in his life. He hated to get involved with this type of person.

The only plus side was that, unlike the person, Chrollo’s grades didn’t actually suck. 

“You keep hounding me about being serious, but it looks to me like you’re the one not concentrating,” Chrollo’s smooth, taunting voice cut into his thoughts. 

“Whatever, I’m just thinking about the project.”

“While staring at my lips?” Chrollo asked seductively, eyeing Kurapika’s own lips.

Kurapika sputtered at that. 

“I-I most certainly was not!” he denied vehemently.

“Mhm, sure thing, sweetheart.” 

He opened his mouth to protest but realized he was playing right into Chrollo’s little game. His mouth snapped shut and he fixed the older male with a dark look. 

Chrollo only flashed him a cocky, sweet smile before getting back to work. 

Kurapika hated Chrollo’s stupid face.

---

He was positively livid. 

Chrollo had tampered with his slides on the presentation, and Kurapika was NOT about to let that go without punishment. 

He didn’t care that the ravenette was surrounded by his little “posse,” he grabbed the back of Chrollo’s leather jacket and whipped him around. 

His actions had Chrollo’s crew jumping to attention, surprised that someone had quite literally grabbed Chrollo by the collar. 

Even Chrollo looked surprised, wide dark eyes’ meeting his fiery, grey ones. 

“Kurapika-”

“Slides three through eight are supposed to be mine!” he hissed angrily, not even giving Chrollo a chance to voice his confusion. 

Chrollo looked at him like he was crazy for a moment before he schooled his features and tried to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Kurapika dodged it. 

“Listen, they were good, really good, I just thought that I could spruce them up a bit,” Chrollo spoke like it was no big deal, but Kurapika could tell the black haired man was trying to be careful, trying to avoid upsetting him further, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Chrollo sounded sincere enough, but WHAT did he just say? “Spruce them up?” LIke Kurapika’s work wasn’t good enough?

Kurapika fumed, his grip tightening on Chrollo’s jacket. 

“They are my slides,” he kept his voice low and dangerous, “don’t touch them again.” 

Chrollo looked visibly upset, probably embarrassed about being scolded in front of his bad boy gang. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” suddenly large hands encompass the one gripped around Chrollo’s jacket, “I mean it, Kurapika, I’m sorry, I was just trying to help.”

Kurapika was taken aback by the gentleness and honesty in Chrollo's voice, and the soft look in those dark eyes had his heart skipping a beat. 

Feeling flustered, Kurapika shook off Chrollo’s hands and began his hasty retreat. 

“Whatever, it's fine, just don’t do it again.”

With that he turned tail and fled. 

---

Him and Chrollo scored on top of the class. 

Not that Kurapika had expected any other result. 

And not that he would EVER admit it, but the changes Chrollo made to his slides weren’t bad, and maybe they even made his slides a little smoother… 

Chrollo’s genuine smile at him when grades were announced made his heart flutter in his chest.

This was not healthy.

He was not catching feelings for the school's biggest player just because they worked on one silly project together. Except, he totally was. 

And that's why he was so scared of working with Chrollo in the first place. Kurapika was not the only smart one who tried to avoid Chrollo’s cunning and charming advances, he also was not the only one who failed at doing so. 

Kurapika has seen the brightest of his peers fall hard for Chrollo, swept up in his roguish smiles and intense gaze. 

And he was just another one in line. 

It was like the man himself had read Kurapika’s thoughts, appearing at his side just as class was dismissed.

“So, did I do good enough for you, Kurapika?” He did not miss the flirtatious tint in that sentence. 

Kurapika swore silently as his heart raced under Chrollo’s heated gaze.

“I’d say top of the class is good enough,” Kurapika admitted after a second of gathering his wits. 

“Hmm, I’d sure hope so,” Chrollo purred, leaning in much closer, bracing his palms on the table on either side of Kurapika, “You know, there’s a lot more than just lame school projects that I’m good at.” 

Kurapika gulped. 

“Show me?”

Phew im on a role, might post a few a couple days early cuz im popping these out pretty quick...

Chapter Text

Chrollo remembered the fear he felt for the first fourteen years of his life. 

He remembered all of his classmates, smiling and crying about things their soulmates wrote to them through their skin. 

Everyday Chrollo wrote messages into his skin and waited desperately for a response. His soulmate had to be out there somewhere, why did they never write back? Did he seriously not have a soulmate, or maybe his soulmate hated him? Could it be possible that his soulmate had already died?

Chrollo’s brows furrowed. He didn’t like that thought.

---

It was only months away from Chrollo’s fifteenth birthday did he feel a strange sensation on his forearm. The feeling of words being written into his skin. 

He was lucky he was in his room, he had never ripped off his shirt faster in his life. 

I’m only eight, pervert. 

Chrollo only gaped, his soulmate has responded! After all this time!

“Pervert…” he chuckled, clutching his arm to his chest. He did have a soulmate, and what a brat they seemed to be.

---

Chrollo always thought it was weird that Kurapika hadn’t been able to write on his skin until he was eight. 

But as years went on, Chrollo got the icy boy to open up to him.

Kurapika spoke of how controlling his parents were, so scared that their precious heir to the company could potentially be influenced in a negative way by some person they might not approve of. 

He also heard how Kurapika had mustered his courage at the age of eight to finally sneak into his father's office and grab a pen, finally responding to Chrollo’s desperate pleas. And how he received a beating for going against his parents' wishes after…

---

It was on Kurapika’s seventeenth birthday that the cautious boy agreed to meet Chrollo for the first time. 

Chrollo took a picture of Kurapika’s beautiful handwriting. 

come and get me, pervert.

He was in his car before he even had time to think, putting in the address of his soulmate and pressing his foot to the pedal. 

Pretty short sorryyyyy

Chapter Text

Kurapika hated his demon counterpart. 

He hated the whole system actually. 

Right at birth, an angel is raised to watch and punish their own demon. 

Demons caused so much trouble unsupervised, so the higher ups decided that each demon should have an angel guardian. Guardian in the parental sense. 

Never did he expect that by placing at the top of his class, that he would be given Chrollo as his demon. 

It wasn’t common for a younger angel to be appointed to such a chaotic and destructive demon, especially one as old or as the demon would say “experienced” as Chrollo. 

“How old are you now, Kurapika?” Chrollo poked his face right into Kurapika’s space, grinning as Kurapika swiped at him, he growled as the demon leapt away. 

“I’m turning one hundred and sixteen this year,” he responded snootily, turning his chin up at the smiling demon. 

“Awe, that's cute, you’re still an adolescent,” Chrollo cooed softly at him.

“Sure, but I’m still more mature than you,” Kurapika shot back, “plus angels are considered full grown at one hundred ten years old.”

“How come you’re still so small and cute?” Chrollo taunted, his heated gaze trailing over Kurapika’s figure, lingering at the large pair of lush angel wings at his back. “And your wings still look as soft as a newborns.”

Kurapika blushed at that, he was a sucker for compliments about his wings. He took good care of them.

The demon must have sensed his vulnerability for he sneaked closer, reaching a large hand forward, and almost, almost, sneaking a stroke on Kurapika’s wing.

He had barely managed to jerk back in enough time, scowling at the demons disappointed sound.

“Come on, Kurapika, just one touch?” Chrollo begged, lust in his eyes, typical of a demon, “unless you’re scared you’ll give into sinful temptation with just a single touch?”

Kurapika’s eyes narrowed as he recognized the challenge in the demon's tone. Every angel knows they must never take a demon up on a challenge and or bet, most cases lead to some sin or another. 

But Kurapika has never been one to back down from a challenge. 

“Hmph, as if.”

Chrollo’s eyes lit up with amusement and he stepped closer. Easily towering over Kurapika.

“May I?”

Kurapika tried and failed not to let Chrollo’s genuine awe and excitement affect him.

He merely brought a wing around his front, holding it out in offering to the demon. 

“Go to town,” he challenged in a snarky tone.

Chrollo wasted no time with small talk as he eagerly reached out and ran his fingers through downy feathers. The demon's eyes lit up with bliss, a near reflection of Kurapika’s own.

He’s never let another being touch his feathers, it was heavily frowned upon.

Kurapika made no objection as Chrollo pushed in closer, using both hands to stroke along his delicate wing bone. A shudder coursed through him when those fingers reached his under wing, which was the most sensitive part of an angel's wings. 

His eyes snapped open when he felt breath on his face. 

The demon pressed his forehead to Kurapika’s before he could draw back. 

“Kurapika,” the demon's voice was a rough whisper, “touch mine too.”

And despite how sinfully wrong this whole situation was, Kurapika reached out with tentative fingers and shivered at the feeling of cold leather and scales.

Another shorty :^)

Chapter Text

Kurapika doesn’t remember the old world, he doesn’t remember what supposed peace and humanity was like. 

He’s heard stories of people living in peace before there was war, and before there was total world destruction. He’s heard about many types of animals that were wiped extinct when the bombs fell, and many others that went extinct after, not able to survive the new worlds conditions. 

Kurapika wasn’t sure if he would have been able to survive either.

Apparently he was only around the tender age of four when Melody found him. 

He had lived a relatively safe life when Melody was alive. He was only fifteen when their hideout was robbed, he had been out at the time, and returned in just enough time for one last hug before she bled to death.

It’s been three years since then, and life has been rough, and life had nearly ended for him a couple of times. 

Eventually he had to hop town, too many “infecteds” began to fill Lusko, where Melody had raised him. 

Infecteds were people who had suffered too much radiation from the bombs, they came in all shapes and sizes. With all sorts of neat surprises ranging from breathing fire and having five huge mouths large enough to swallow heads whole. It wasn’t a pretty picture, Kuapika’s seen it.

Anywho, after many days of travel he reached the next town over, Meteor City.

The streets were cracked and sprouting grass, many of the buildings had missing glass windows and doors. 

Abandoned cars lined the streets, Kurapika’s been in one, only to hide from a gang of infecteds. They didn’t work anymore. Haven’t in years.

A chill went up Kurapika’s spine. 

He was being watched.

His finger went straight to the trigger of his AR, a gift from Melody, he wasn’t sure of its model, all he knew is that it saved his life a few times over. The silencer he had found in a gun shop just months ago was an added bonus.

He pushed down the fear that instinctively thrummed in his chest and looked around quickly, eyes darting to every crack and crevice and alley way that could hide and infected.

He kind of immediately wrote off the possibility of it being another human, he hasn’t seen another human being other than Melody, who had been murdered by other humans. He knew because with her dying breaths she pleaded with him not to trust another human. 

A gunshot rang in his ears, jerking him from his thoughts as the bullet embedded itself into the side of a building just two inches from where his temple was. 

He wrote back on the possibility of it being more humans. 

He supposes it was possible that a sane infected would have managed such accuracy. But, much like humans, Kurapika has yet to meet a sane infected, he’s only heard stories.

Before another shot could be fired, he ducked into a building, apparently playing right into a trap. 

His yelp was muffled as a hand covered his mouth and jerked his arms behind his back, making his gun drop to the floor. 

“Mmmph!” he struggled, he tried to scream.

“Settle down, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Kurapika doubted that a bit, he was just shot at.

Clearly struggling wasn’t getting him anywhere and finally he stilled himself, resigning himself to his fate, whatever it might be that this stranger has planned for him. 

The stranger waited a moment even after Kurapika stopped squirming, to release him.

Kurapika whipped around, facing his attacker.

The other man raised his hand in a placating manner, trying to show Kurapika that he meant no harm.

“Easy, tiger,” the man chuckles, “what's your name and business? You passing through or sticking around?”

Kurapika wanted to glare and snap back, but he simply couldn’t.

He couldn’t help the way his eyes hungrily drank in every detail about the man. His sleek black hair, his leather jacket, his dark eyes and pale lips. 

Kurapika could tell that the man had more muscle than himself, and the stranger was at least five inches taller, maybe more. 

“As much as I appreciate your very obvious attraction,” the man said in an amused tone, his eyes crinkling just so as he chuckles, “I asked you some questions.”

“Kurapika, and I’m not sure,” he finally snapped out of his stupor, flushing in embarrassment, “Just trying to get away from infecteds.”

The stranger nodded, buying his story.

“I see, it's relatively safe around these parts,” the man's eyes suddenly take on a dangerous look, “however, Meteor City is mine, the only ones that live here are the ones that heed my orders.”

There were more humans? And they all lived under one man?

Kurapika supposes that’s the closest thing to peace he has actually witnessed.

“So, what do I call you, my lord?” Kurapika taunted sarcastically.

Super hot stranger man or not, Kurapika had been told not to trust other humans.

That earned him a laugh.

“Chrollo is fine,” a large hand landed on Kurapika’s shoulder and he was pulled closer, until he was nearly nose to nose with the older man, “I think we’re going to get along well, Kurapika.”

Kurapika nearly swooned, most of his life he has never felt another's touch so when that warm heavy hand touched his skin, something in Kurapika snapped. A whole world of desires and interests opened up to him. 

“I sure hope so,” he responded wistfully. 

Awkwardly put together and doesn’t make much sense but this type of fic really isn’t my strong suit… hope yall still enjoyed