#which you know it affects the bloodlust during in from the cold :) but anyway NOT AN ANGSTY PROMPT SO I'LL SHUT UP ABT THAT

[generallypo]

move over maschenny, we’ve got a hotter and cooler Khun princess in the tower now.

introducing Khun Aguero Jahad, the one and only princess that Jahad actually, sincerely hopes never wins the competition.

excessive rambling under the cut + a short fic under that. all my warnings are dead and void as of now. cheers!

-- -- -- -- -- --

i sat on my salt for a couple of days -- and then finally, finally decided to do something about it. my previous TOG post kinda went ham on that. yeehaw.

i imagine jahadprincess!khun is a little more snakey than the original (is that possible?). having climbed the tower at a blistering pace following her selection, she’s also a more competent fighter, though it additionally means she needs to use her brain less. though she plays more by her family’s and Jahad’s rules, she’s not particularly ruled by her bloodlust in the way Maschenny is, or utter complacency like Repellista. her outfit is shamelessly ripped off of Yuri’s and the casual officewear aesthetic khun sports in s1.

anyways, i did The Big Write. it has been 3 years since i have attempted such a thing. the process was complicated and stressful, i drank milk tea to compensate. i wanted to depict the moment of a big decision in which a characteristically selfish person does something shockingly altruistic, as well as the bystander who questions her motives. it’s not quite khunbam, more like an intense, one-sided dedication and some sorely needed soul searching. 

played fast and loose with characterization, timelines, general TOG canon while banging out this beast. like every middle child, i’m not super proud of it, but it gets the job done. i had a great time with it! really!

-- -- -- -- -- -- 

Unsurprisingly, it’s Yuri who finds her first. 

Her heels, lustrous and scarlet, click faintly on the rooftop tiles, and their mild echo belies nothing of the thunder on her face, or the sibilant presence of the Black March at her side. Aguero turns to meet her, inclines her head in response. 

“Why, princess Yuri. It’s a pleasure, as always.”

“Cut the crap, Aguero,” she snaps. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Aguero raises her hands. From one of them, Manbarondenna dangles innocently, unclasped buckles gleaming under fake starlight. 

“Waiting for my ride. I’m not expecting a plus one, though.” She smiles pleasantly, eyes narrowed. “Run along now. This is a single-passenger trip.”

Yuri growls. “Seriously?” She steps forward with intent, and Aguero momentarily tenses, fingers flying to her bag — but just barely, Yuri’s features soften, and she stops. Dramatically, she cocks her head, ponytail bobbing with vigor.

“You,” she points emphatically. “You’re actually going to do this. You’re not worried about the consequences.”

She states it like an accusation, but the palest shade of concern colors her voice. Are you sure of what you’re doing? Leaving this place -- leaving all of us? A complicated expression crosses her features, and she scowls. 

“This won’t just affect you, Aguero.” Firmly, her hand rests on the Black March’s handle. Do you want me to stop you?

“… I’m aware.” A pause, and oh, ugh, Aguero’s doing it again — that nasty, calculating look on her face, the one that reminds onlookers, in no uncertain terms, exactly how the princess had come by her position. Yuri balks uncharacteristically, and steps away. 

It’s not like she doesn’t think she can take Aguero in a fight… but it’s not what she had come here for in the first place. After knowing each other this long, the least she can do is offer her support, not another enemy. Aguero has no problems with making — and gleefully crushing — the latter.

She looks at the woman before her. Khun Aguero Jahad, formerly surnamed Agnis. Not so long ago, a nameless little nobody — somebody’s second, second-choice, second-rate daughter, born in a family with too many offspring to invest attention into a daughter lacking outstanding martial prowess or an especially fetching face. A forgotten girl, wholly incongruent to the imposing figure Yuri knows her as now. 

The air around them vibrates with tension, laced with an inexorable chill -- it’s not a trick of the light, Yuri notices, that her breath seems a little more visible than normal, that the sweat on her forehead feels almost solid to her skin. Aguero is watching her, face bright and predatory, and it’s a stark reminder that even beautiful things can be cold and unforgiving.

The crown jewel of the Khun family sneers, and Yuri braces herself for impact.

— — — 

Khun Aguero Agnis had almost always been a slippery, unremarkable thing, with willow branches for arms and a sullen, snarky mien. On her placid, faintly superior face sat two intelligent, gem-blue eyes — pretty enough, but also afflicted with an attitude chilly enough to wither even the most persistent suitor’s desire. To her family, and an equally hostile Tower, she was both undesirable and unsupported — and consequently, insignificant. 

Yuri had met her before, once. It had been an event much, much longer ago, during a nameless, perfectly ordinary mission to deliver some sealed goods. A loaded favor of sorts, from one family to another. Bright and on the cusp of princesshood, hair still bound in youthful twin tails, she had been greeted at the door of one of the numerous Khun establishments by a slim joke of a girl. 

Thanks for your work, the girl had said, eyes blue and sleepless and unreadable. I’ve been expecting you. With mechanical efficiency, the girl received, inspected, and stowed the package away, vanishing from the gate within seconds. 

Baffled, Yuri withdrew, scratching her head. She’d been given a verification stamp to use at the end, but the package had made it to the correct address regardless. 

I’ve been expecting you, the Khun girl had said. That counted as a mission complete, didn’t it?

If not for the silvery-blue shock of her hair, no one would have guessed the girl a child of one of the great ten families. Favored Khuns, after all, were generally not disposed towards handling petty messenger duties. The observation had barely registered for Yuri, and not much later a more exciting adventure came along to wipe the encounter from her mind. Favored or not, there were more interesting, deadly things in the Tower to focus on.

A couple hundred years ago, though… things had changed, and drastically so. Yuri doesn’t know or exactly care for the inner politics or delicate power balances among the characters of Jahad’s court, but the truth of the matter is this: 

Khun Aguero Jahad might have only been recently crowned — but she has always been a threat. 

Since the dawn of the ten families, the Khun staples of education had remained true to three essential subjects: warfare, politics, and assassination. The children learn young, or not at all. A daughter true to her heritage, Khun Aguero Agnis had bared her fangs only at the most opportune moment, sinking them firmly in the throats of her blood sister, a rival from a nearby branch family, and a number of prominent, up-and-coming girls vying for the princess candidacy. 

It had been, without a doubt — a flawless victory, the perfect display of brains and cruel strength. And of course, with those eyes, a blue as deep and pitiless as the sea: beauty, and the arrogance to wield it.

It had taken the entire upper floors by complete surprise, propelled Aguero’s name to the top of the gossip columns, and whispered unrest among the current princesses in a way that hadn’t been felt in at least half a millennium. All it had taken was a hundred years’ worth of waiting, a lighthouse, a well-placed knife, and some dead girls.

As expected, a mere three months after her candidacy was announced, Khun Aguero Agnis became Khun Aguero Jahad, and not a single voice spoke out to disagree.

— — — 

“Are you going to stop me?” Aguero’s voice is low and cool. Like magic, a small blade glimmers in her hand, and while Yuri can’t predict what kinds of weapons her sister carries on her person, she knows better than to think this is her only, or most lethal one.

“... No,” she admits ruefully. “I don’t think I’d be able to, anyway.” Deftly, she stows the Black March in her inventory, and spins around to sit cross-legged by the princess’s side. It’s always a gamble, relying on Aguero’s temper, but it’s more likely than not that the other girl isn’t actually looking for a fight. She can’t afford the attention a real one would draw, or the physical exhaustion it would inflict.

Aguero lets her, and she grins with satisfaction. “I’ll wait with you until your ride is here!” The and buy you time, if necessary, goes unsaid. Yuri yawns, and then stretches, eyes crinkling with cheeky fondness. It won’t take long for her to get bored. What better way to kill time than with invasive questioning?

“Is he really worth it, Aguero? That boy?” Yuri pouts, eyebrows raised. “This better not just be because he’s cute.” Her words have the subtlety of a berserk Shinheuh, but she’s genuinely curious, and Aguero will understand.

A quiet huff of laughter has her squinting in surprise. Dawn hasn’t quite made it to their corner of the rooftop, but she can make out the faint, yet unmistakable curve of a real smile. 

Huh, thinks Yuri, wide-eyed. It’s not a bad look on her. It’s not that Aguero has never smiled, per se, but the intrinsic softness of it all is a wholly foreign creature to her, and she likes to think Aguero does consider her a friend. Or at least as close to one as a Khun is allowed to call a person.

“Oh, he’s cute all right. Like… a puppy, I guess. Big, gold eyes, really nice voice, listens to everything I say.” Aguero snorts, fiddles with her hair. “… For the most part, at least. There was a girl that he came here chasing after — ” and here she pauses briefly, expression hard like ice chips — “but she’s, ah, not a problem anymore.” 

Yuri blinks. By her feet, frost gleams in elegant, spiraling patterns. For a moment, curiosity steals across her thoughts— what kind of girl could that have been, to catch the eye of Aguero’s sweetheart? To make even the pride of the Khuns lose her famously unshakable cool? And what the hell had even happened? But instinct cautions her otherwise, and it’s yet to lead her astray. 

Yuri shakes her head. Best not to pry into those matters. 

“Okay, then. And what are you going to do after you go?” she presses. “You know you can’t come back.”

At first, there’s no response. The seconds slide uneasily by, thick like a finger swirled through honey. The other girl’s face is thoughtful as she slowly replies: “I’m gonna help him climb the Tower.” 

Aguero shifts slightly, and meets Yuri’s gaze. “To be fair, I wasn’t sure about that either at first. He… he’s really weak, you know.”

Yuri cackles, just to fill the silence. “That bad?”

“That bad.” Aguero exhales. “But he’s a monster, too. He has these… moments, when he gets a certain look in his eyes, and it’s almost terrifying. It’s funny, because he’s the gentlest thing I’ve ever met. But he’s going to be amazing in the future. I know it.” 

“... Like Jahad? Or better?” Is it the boy’s power you’re after? His life? It’s not like Yuri can’t understand. But in the Tower, the asking price of violence and overwhelming force comes laughably cheap, and for something as easy as that Aguero would never be so reckless. The conditions of their status are admittedly stifling, but few things are truly unreachable for a Jahad princess.

Or is it something else?

“They’re nothing alike,” Aguero says flatly. “And I don’t want him to be.”

Frustratedly, she runs a hand through her hair, gesturing vaguely. “It’s hard to explain, but he…he’s good, Yuri. He’s good. All those years stuck in a cave, all the trials the Tower ran him through, all that death and backstabbing and grieving that they make the Regulars practically eat and breathe  —  he fought through it purely by his own merit, and still, nothing's broken him of it. I can’t understand it myself.” 

Aguero murmurs to no one in particular, looking bewildered herself. “… It’s dazzling, honestly.” It only lasts a heartbeat, but there’s a heat to her entire bearing, an unexpected intensity, and it looks a lot like hope.

“He’s going to flip this Tower on its goddamned head, just you wait. He’ll need someone to watch his back when he does.” She smiles again, sharp and secretive — and it leaves Yuri reeling from the whiplash, this girl — who suddenly looks more like sunlight on new snow, like devotion underneath domed ceilings and glass sculptures praising unshakable belief, than the glacial stoicism of her bloodline. “The Regulars are supposed to form teams, right? I intend to be his light-bearer.”

“A-aha…I see it now. You’re crazy,” offers Yuri, more weakly than she would prefer. She thinks she can see the bigger picture now. She isn’t sure whether she likes it or not.

… So it’s his love you’re after. Do you think it’ll make you happy?

“I’ve got it all planned out, of course. I had a quick chat with Headon about starting fresh as well, so the Ranker rules shouldn’t apply to me.” It shouldn’t be possible to make throwing away your life so easy, so fulfilling, but Khun Aguero does it somehow, conviction radiating firmly from her entirety. She laughs, bright and determined. “We’re gonna give the floors so much hell, Yuri.”

“As for being a princess,” she continues, “I have a couple of ideas as to making sure no one looks too closely. That’s a secret, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Aguero shoots her a mild look, and it’s the end of that discussion. She flicks her fingers with impatience. But one last question still burns a hole in Yuri’s chest, the one that hadn’t actually been answered, and she can’t let the other girl leave without a proper response. If she does, there won’t be a second chance.

The first hints of day yawn loomingly across the horizon. Shades of carnation and marigold, thin and pale, send tendrils of light across the sky. In just a few more minutes, the stars will disappear, eclipsed by their vibrance. And Aguero will be gone, gone, another name to be struck from the records. 

After all their years of friendship, this is where the line gets drawn. It’s a little lonely, if she thinks about it. Yuri steels herself. A younger, less jaded girl might have asked Aguero to reconsider. But regardless of whatever answer she would have been given, it’s not the one she needs to know right now.

No regrets now, Aguero.

Princess Yuri Jahad looks the defector in the eye, feeling fully well the pride and colossal pressure of her status. Bending the rules has never, ever seemed so daunting before. Maybe the weight thudding cold in her chest is her grief. Maybe, she thinks sheepishly, it’s her jealousy. She wouldn’t be surprised if it were all of the above, and more than just her own fair share of the bitterness. 

Believe it or not, she has been a princess for a very, very long time. The other girls would want to know the same.

It’s with hushed longing that she opens her mouth again, one last piece of idle gossip. With resentment, for countless eras spent in solitude and misplaced spite; loneliness, for every generation of lost, loveless young women. Every missed opportunity, every broken dream, every petty, contrived falling-out. She’s old enough to remember most of the worst. Aguero is escaping their shiny little showcase of a birdcage, at the price of losing everything else.

Please, she thinks desperately. Let her be right, this time. This is one of their sisters, after all. They must not have another Anaak Jahad.

“...Aguero. He’s worth it?” she repeats. 

Khun Aguero Agnis steeples her fingers against her chin, staring forward. The sun rises ahead of them, unrelenting and pure, and the light catches on her face and draws it all out in ferocious streaks of gold.

“Yes,” she answers. “He is.”

#tower of god #TOG #kami no tou #webtoon #khun aguero agnis #jahadprincess!khun #fem!khun #genderbend #fanart #sketches #fic #writing #princess!khun runs away from home #yep that's it that's the fic #long ass emotional screeching

[orderofthedyingstar]

RECAP: SESSION 11

SESSION ELEVEN

The party continues their journey down Elfslayer’s Run, briefly taking respite in a small rest area a few hours from Whitwood. The head North towards Mirror Lake, where Verrix recalls there being a small village at the edge of the lake. Verrrix struggles to recall why he’d been in this area before, the Voice in his head taunting him with annoying (Jeopardy) music the longer he takes to remember anything, making him completely lose his train of thought. Jun, cryptic as always, has a ‘theory’ that he’s unwilling to share, since he doesn’t feel very sure about it. Verrix (who was definitely eavesdropping) notices a few tell-tale signs that Jun’s casting a spell, but he doesn’t know what or on who.

Rhododendron: “Jun, if I knew your last name - ” 

Jun: “It’s for the best you don’t.” 

Rhododendron: “That’s what you think.” 

Jun: “No, that’s what I know.”

Rhododendron tries to annoy an answer out of Jun for an hour straight, Marlee bopping the back of her head with a book every time she gets too loud. After a while Rhododendron gives up, going over to Marlee to apologize for ‘being a bitch’ to her the day before, and Marlee announces that they’re ‘bro‘s now’, lending her a well-worn book titled Webs of Luscious Silk. When Rhododendron tries asking her about ‘Verrix’s’ book, Marlee warns her that they’ll officially be in a book club if she answers, and that Rhododendron will have to put up with any and all commentary she has about all of her books. When the group stops for a short rest, Rhododendron goes through the book Marlee lent her and finds that it depicts a …strange romance involving a drider love interest. 

They spend the next two days traveling towards the lake, looting an old bandit camp along the way for some supplies and gold. Rhododendron checks in on Verrix’s magic and its tendency for blowback, leading to a few jokes about it’s adverse effects causing Rhododendron to be short. She also tries to get Jun to talk about his theory again, but he says that he wants to hold on to it for a little longer to attempt to be ‘emotionally sensitive’. As the party moves through the more heavily wooded part of Elfslayer’s Run, Verrix takes point on leading them through the woods (21 Survival check) and gets them through it completely unharnessed. They arrive at Mirror Lake, easily the biggest body of water Rhododendron (and only her, actually) has seen - she tries to get Inigo to jog his memory and he immediately responds by stripping down to his underwear and jumping into the lake. He swims around in the lake a little, telling everyone else not to come in because of how cold it is and that he’ll probably be fine because of ‘aasimar stuff’. Marlee immediately heads towards the only tavern in the entire tiny village, cold and bored of watching Inigo swim around. 

Verrix, staring at Inigo’s pile of clothes: “Hey, is that what you meant by ‘center yourself’? Cause I’m not doing that.” 

Jun: “I don’t know, Verrix. It could be really helpful for magic. Could have mystical properties.” 

Rhododendron: “Don’t you trust Inigo?” 

Verrix: “I’m not gonna answer that.”

While Inigo is swimming around in the lake, Jun also reveals that he’s figured out that someone has put a spell on him preventing him from regaining all of his memories; repeated spells layered over and over each other. He expresses doubts that spell will fade on its own, but there might be some restorative magic that might help; Jun hasn’t wanted to bring it up to Inigo without trying to figure out a solution - another problem without an answer. Jun also compares the feeling on the spells on Inigo to Rhododendron’s curse, but is careful not to be too specific around Verrix since Rhododendron still doesn’t want anyone else to know, although Verrix can tell Rhododendron is hiding something from him. The three of them then realize that they haven’t heard from Inigo in a while, and spot him far off in the center of the lake. 

Rhododendron: “Verrix, you should go into the water and get him, it won’t affect you since you’re an aasimar.” 

Jun: “Sounds like a good idea.” 

Rhododendron: “See? When has Jun ever been wrong?” 

Jun: “OH - ” 

Rhododendron: “Hey. Shhh.”

After some half-hearted arguing Rhododendron finally just pushes Verrix into the lake, getting water and sand all over his hair and his cloak. Verrix mopes and makes vague threats at Rhododendron for a few minutes before going after Inigo, who doesn’t want to come back yet because he still has some ‘memory searching’ to do.

Verrix: “This is worse than when I got shot.”

It takes Verrix several tries before he finally manages to convince a very distractible Inigo to come back to shore. Verrix dips cold water down Rhododendron’s back. The three of them (Jun left to join Marlee at the tavern) finally head into the small village town Reflections. Rhododendron asks their two other party members if they’ve found anything interesting in the tavern, to which both of them point out that the proprietor is weirdly obsessed with death: the place is covered in depictions of the Astral Plane and Nahaliel, the god of death and the arcane. Marlee also points out that the tavern looks like it used to be a temple, and she can tell where pews have been removed and the old cleric’s quarters used to be. Rhododendron goes over to the owner, who laughs when Rhododendron points out that the place’s death theme is a little strange for a tavern. The owner, Haley, admits that the place is a family business but her mother and grandmother were both clerics of Nahaliel whereas she wanted to make some money out of the place. Rhododendron asks if Haley has seen any fire genasi around, to which she says that one passed through with a dwarf the other day on their honeymoon and went off into the mountains about a week ago. Before Rhododendron goes back to her table, Haley offers her a small Nahaliel keychain, which she takes.

Rhododendron: “The bartender said that a fire genasi and a dwarf came through here on their…honeymoon.” 

Verrix: “They’re getting married?” 

Rhododendron: “I certainly hope not. No. If after three years of commitment he still won’t - he’s not gonna do it. But that’s besides the point…anyways…”

Rhododendron goes back up to the bar, where Haley offers Rhododendron a quarter of a shot of dwarven ale, putting it in a small vial and giving it to her on the house. The group gets their things together and starts to head up into the mountains, Jun pulling on a huge sweater over his other clothes and complaining that he doesn’t like the mountains. As they head up into the mountains, Verrix and Rhododendron keep pushing each other out of the way to try to prove who’s better at navigating, accidentally sprinting ahead of the rest of their party. Rhododendron tries tracking Umbra as they travel, noticing traces of fire genasi, a dwarf, and several gnolls in the area as well as local wildlife. 

The party spots a cave tucked away in a higher part of the mountains, and after some difficulty on Verrix’s end (resulting in Marlee throwing him up into the cave and straight into Jun) they start investigating the area. They sneak around towards an outcropping deeper in the cave and find a small group of gnolls, and after some debate they decide to leave the gnolls alone, since they technically haven’t done anything to the party.

Marlee: “Marlee ain’t about bloodlust.” 

Verrix: “We could talk to them, see if they’re evil?” 

Marlee: “And then what, bring divine judgement on them? That’s not our job.” 

Rhododendron: “Isn’t it your job?” 

Marlee: “(scoffs) …Sometimes. If you upset Nyvarstra.” 

Rhododendron: “Maybe you should pray and ask?” 

Marlee: “Nah, we’re not cool like that. It’s more like a one-way…thing. Always watching…”

The party creeps back towards an area closer to the cave entrance to get a few hours of sleep, rotating through with a careful watch to make sure the gnolls don’t notice them. During their watch, Rhododendron asks Jun a little about the hag, starting him off on an annoyed rant about the situation and that she should really tell Verrix about it. 

Jun: “You don’t know exactly what - it’s like prophecies, you don’t know what it is until it’s already hitting you in the face with your friend’s blood on your hands! To be, uh, hypothetical.”

Jun tells Rhododendron the specifics of the spell/curse cast on her: a Geas that she cannot act directly against without the possibility of dying. She asks if there’s a way to get rid of the curse, to which he says that there aren’t really many options outside of Wish (Jun: “Short of a miracle there isn’t much you can do to remove it”). Rhododendron also asks Jun about blood magic, to which he says that it is both potent and dangerous, and that it felt like divine energy when Umbra was using it on them - ’a direct link to the gods’. Jun also reminds Rhododendron that he wasn’t able to see into Inigo or Umbra’s minds back when he worked at the Cobalt Keep, and that he’s been able to pick up other aasimar’s thoughts just fine. Jun dodges several other questions before they drop the subject and go through the smut from Marlee book instead, amused and horrified at the ‘interesting’ scene depictions. 

During Verrix and Marlee’s watch, Marlee gets bored and starts throwing pieces of her bedroll at the wall, where they land next to Rhododendron’s face in a small pile. Marlee lights the pile on fire after she runs out of breadcrumbs, and Verrix puts his hand between the fire and Rhododendron’s face. Their watch is otherwise uneventful, as is Inigo and Rhododendron’s second watch after that. Although during their watch Inigo manages to remember that the cave they’re looking for is somewhere on Lord Grah’s Peak, and that while he feels like he’s known Umbra for a while it still doesn’t sound right to say that they’ve been around since he was a child either. 

After everyone has slept they set off for the area Inigo talked about, wary of the giants that Haley back at the Reflections tavern mentioned. As they travel higher into the mountain range they hear loud crashing noises, and they try to be quiet with the exception of Marlee (Stealth 2), who is freezing in her armor. As the party climbs higher they see two giants tossing boulders around at each other, and they try to figure out a way to get around them without getting squashed. Marlee offers to try talking to the giants, saying she knows how in theory, but none of them feel confident in the plan. Eventually they decide to use Inigo as a distraction, making him promise not to fight the giants without Rhododendron asking him to. Rhododendron and Jun cast Longstrider and Invisibility on Inigo, and he gets the giants’ attention with some surprisingly good flute playing as the rest of the party starts to sneak up the mountain path. As they’re climbing up the mountain Rhododendron spots a crack in the mountain that cool air is coming out of - when Verrix takes a look inside he sees ornate dragon statues lining the walls. The continue further up the path and find a large boulder (the size of a small car) blocking the cave entrance and after a few tries Marlee manages to shove it out of the way. 

The giants start to catch up to Inigo, with Rhododendron and Verrix launching some arrows and Fire Bolts respectively to cover him. Just as Inigo reaches the cave entrance, the giants catch up to the party and snatch up Rhododendron and Verrix in the process. The party gets into an unwilling fight with the giants, Verrix and Rhododendron trapped in the giants’ grip until Jun casts Mind Spike on the giant holding Verrix and the rest of the party wails on the other giant until Jun can set its feet on fire. Verrix completely incinerates one of the giants, and while he and Inigo try and finish of the last giant Rhododendron insists that the (badly wounded) Inigo retreat into the cave with the rest of the party. Jun finally manages to snap Inigo out of his rage by placing him in the center of a Fog Cloud, covering his and Rhododendron’s escape into the cave.

The hall of the cave is lined with statues of Nyvarstra every few feet, which is strange considering its location in a mountain range sacred to Ardrin, god of creation and the Material Plane. Marlee says that she can feel that Nyvarstra has been angered with whatever has happened here, an all-consuming divine anger ‘like when she smites’. She also notes that she can feel the presence of other divine energies but isn’t in tune with them enough to identify them.

Marlee: “What, I can’t be religious and horny? Nyvarstra.”

Despite his reluctance, Jun casts Locate Object and manages to sense that Raz’s amulet of Nyvarstra is somewhere nearby, below them. The party takes a brief break to lick their wounds before continuing onward. They try to sneak through the halls of the cave but keep running into each other. Verrix, despite all of this, manages to spot a trap and gets the party (plus Rhododendron, who extinguished her light for stealth purposes and can’t see) to sneak around it. The hall opens up to a large room lined with unlit sconces and an alter at the far end flanked by another statue of Nyvarstra. They light the sconces while Jun casts Detect Magic; Marlee examines the altar and says that it feels like blasphemous magic was cast here. The table near the altar is covered in old blood, along with other items such as a dagger and bird bones. Marlee also manages to find a small onyx statue of Zelia, the god of war, justice, and sacrifice. Inigo examines the statue and says that something about it seems familiar, but that there isn’t anything about the room specifically that he recognizes. Marlee says that while she thinks there were magical rituals done here, she doesn’t sense anything tied to necromancy or sacrificing people. 

Marlee: “Kinda seems like someone was just trying to get attention. Talk, commune.”

Jun finally manages to uncover a trapdoor beneath their feet, although the hole is too deep to see the bottom. Verrix and Jun tie some rope to the large statue of Nyvarstra in the room and the party climbs down into the trapdoor.

Inigo: “There was a war god up there?” 

Rhododendron: “I mean, he wasn’t just chilling up there.” 

Inigo: “Be kinda funny if he was though.” 

Rhododendron: “No, no -” 

Inigo (laughing): “Fight a god.” 

Rhododendron: “No, no, no.” 

Inigo: “Kind of funny.” 

Rhododendron: “That’s an incredibly terrible idea.”

The party eventually makes it to a split in the hallway and can see sunlight streaming through some small cracks in the walls. They take the hall on the left first, which opens up into a balcony displaying a large valley far below the mountain, the entire valley lined by statues of soldiers facing an ancient set of some enormous creature’s bones. The path on the right leads to a bedroom with some travel equipment scattered on the ground (including Raz’s statue) and a boulder sitting in the middle of the bed. Verrix and Marlee are both kind of creeped out by the boulder, and they start bothering it until the rock monster awakens and slaps the shit out of Marlee. Jun sets the bed on fire, distressing the creature, and Rhododendron uses the distraction to go through all of Raz’s stuff on the floor - it’s a pile of rations, traveling supplies, old hole-filed underwear, and their clerical journal. She snatches the journal and tells the party that it’s time to leave, trapping the boulder-creature in the room.

Inigo: “Did you find everything you were looking for?” 

Rhododendron: “Not really, no.”

Rhododendron is crushed, admitting that they’ve exhausted their only real lead. Verrix and Marlee point out that Raz might have left notes in their journal, but Rhododendron is still too upset about not finding them to really put any effort into it yet. They decide to rest in a safer spot in the cave, and Rhododendron finally leafs through the journal after resting for a while, finding that Raz talks about where they’ve travelled with Umbra and him wanting to head North towards the capital of So’Joh. Rhododendron realizes that there is only one major city (Brackenwood) between here and So’Joh’s capital, and that a journey on the Long Road would take at least a month. Raz also has some brief descriptions on Zelia, the war god, in the journal, and they question Umbra’s connections to the god and their weird obsession with Nyvarstra and aasimar. Rhododendron fills Verrix in on what she’s found out, and that in order to follow them she would have to go to the capital of So’Joh. She also tells Verrix that she doesn’t think Jun will come with them.Verrix and Rhododendron confer with Inigo a little bit, discussing the impending journey on the Long Road and potentially get horses to speed along the journey a little bit. After that, Rhododendron wakes up Jun and tells him that she plans on going to the capital of So’Joh, and is surprised when he says he’s coming along regardless of his past there.

Jun: “So before you head to So’Joh, there’s probably a story I should tell you.”

#god this session was rly funny #also jun’s dramatic ass i s2g #and verrix...bro....ily #also!!! RHODODENDRON is BACK from the war ily by girl #dndas #dndas recap #dnd another sunrise

[codenamesazanka]

Analysis of Shigaraki Tomura during the Stain Arc 

This is a sort of Part I to an ask I’m answering which I’ll be posting later! I’m irrationally proud of this meta because like I get to explain step by step Shigaraki’s thought process and argue that he’s 1) *smart as hell* 2) but weird and on the outside seems psycho and not even Kurogiri gets him 3) was not *that much* a spoiled tantrum throwing brat 4) it’s such a good, carefully written build up to the mall scene where he gets his enlightenment. 

So! Let’s begin. Oh yeah: Super long post. Estimated reading time: 11min?

Starting at Chapter 47:

Shigaraki (and Kurogiri) meet Stain, because Kurogiri thought Stain would be a good impetus to Shigaraki’s growth - because Shigaraki only cared about destruction, just causing it anyway he can. He didn’t need a reason, he didn’t need a detailed long-term plan, he just goes at it. Shigaraki sees Stain and himself as the same: wanton murderers of Heroes.

Stain disagrees.

Chapter 49:

Stain stabs Shigaraki, and monologues about his philosophy: Stain kills for a reason. Bloodlust without conviction is meaningless, and to achieve something, there needs to be a will.

And that was what Shigaraki seemed lack, at first. Shigaraki wanted to kill for the heck of it, no belief driving that desire, and not really a determined drive. It’s just the number one thing that he wants to kill is All Might, then everything else. Shigaraki was chaos and ruin personified. And he knows it.

But then Stain realizes that wasn’t so: he sees in Shigaraki a “will…[and] the seed of some warped conviction”: the intense will to kill, because of the conviction that All Might and Hero Society is trash. Shigaraki just hasn’t put it into words yet, nor has he self-reflected on it to cultivate it.

Chapter 50:

!This part is really important!

So Stain and Shigaraki (and Kurogiri) are now in Hosu, and Stain goes off on his crusade, still ranting about his creed. Shigaraki watches him goes, and is super annoyed with him. In response, he lets out the Noumu to rampage.

People have described this as another ‘tantrum’, or Shigaraki being a psycho, or just doing what the fuck he wants. That this wasn’t a carefully considered decision and plan.

Here’s the thing: it was. A plan with a reason, to accomplish a goal. Despite how he was acting in the last chapter, Shigaraki was listening closely to everything Stain said, absorbing it, reflecting on it. Stain says, to succeed, you need a reason to destroy. 

And Shigaraki disagrees. Will, convictions, creed - murderers like the two of them don’t need anything like that. Killing is killing, if you wanna kill, you kill.

Shigaraki’s counterargument is to declare a contest: Whose philosophy will be correct? The deciding factor is impact on society - both Stain and Shigaraki wishes to destroy the status quo, the current world. So, will Stain’s belief-driving bloodlust affect society more; or will Shigaraki’s pure destruction?

I’ve read the panel above in Japanese, Chinese, English.  「ブッ壊したいならブッ壊せばいいって話」he says.  ‘If you wanna destroy, then destroying is just fine’ So I pick FA’s translation as I feel it’s the more accurate one. This is Shigaraki stating his philosophy. 

Besides this being a very violent debate, this is Shigaraki’s carefully picked revenge on Stain. The guy stabbed him, he’s annoying, he dissed Shigaraki’s chaotic evil alignment. Instead of starting another knife fight, Shigaraki goes for something that he knows will really hurt Stain: his pride and dignity. Granted, this was Shigaraki expecting to win the competition, but had he won, he would’ve disintegrated Stain’s ideas, his life’s purpose - that he was changing the world, that his attitude to killing is the right one. It was all for nothing! And the whole world would know. (Shigaraki seems prefers this method of cold revenge - he does the same thing to Overhaul later.)

So! To put it simply: both want to destroy society, but disagree on the way to do it - will having a conviction take you further, or do you not need that and can rely on chaos alone? 

Not to mention as well, he even briefly re-considered the Hero Killer’s creed. “As I thought, we’re too different...” That line speaks for itself, and then he decides to release the Nomu.  

Chapter 51

So here and the following panels make it seem like Shigaraki is just losing it. That’s a fair reading, because he really does say: “Cuz I don’t like that Hero Killer. And I’m allowed to crush whatever I don’t like, right? Master.” Which does sounds very childish. 

I argue: Even as Shigaraki’s bleeding and wobbling, he’s already come up with his contest plan. Stain’s One-Man Culling vs Three Creatures of Chaos. 

Shigaraki wants to use the Noumu to cause indiscriminate damage - and more of it. Stain goes after Heroes one by one, so less destruction. What will the world take notice of? Who will cause more fear and panic and lingering unease?

Now, back to that ‘Can I go kill stuff’ line, with new knowledge from the recent chapters 220+:

I say it’s Shigaraki using what All For One told him before as leverage. He’s a brat like that. All For One raised Shigaraki to be a honed killing machine, to direct his intense rage at All Might and Heroes. He’s a weapon - he kills. He doesn’t like something, he goes after it. It’s what Teacher taught him, after all. Or is Master going to admit he was wrong? 

AFO pauses for quite a while before he answers in the affirmative, though he’s still able to show he’s boss. 

And finally, we have Shigaraki declaring that by tomorrow morning, the world will have forgotten about Stain. No one cares about his ugly 17-kills ass; instead, the focus will be on the Nomu and their mass destruction. 

Chapter 56

Near the end of this whole mess, Shigaraki’s plan gets unexpected factors. The UA kids are here, Stain killing one of the Nomu, Stain getting captured - he’s confused and frustrated. They’re extraneous variables in his experiment. Now the media might think they were working together. Now the results aren’t as clear cut. 

“Why aren’t things going my way?” is Shigaraki revealing himself to have been arrogant. He was so sure his plan would be executed exactly as expected, that he would win this contest. He was trying to be the mastermind he could be, but he hadn’t succeed 100%. He’s not so sure now. 

When it’s time to head back, we see that Kurogiri didn’t get it. He had no idea what exactly Shigaraki had being thinking - because Shigaraki never told him the plan. Shigaraki never spelled it out for anyone, not Kurogiri, not his Master, not the readers. Which is why Shigaraki calls him an idiot - he expected Kurogiri to just divine the plan, wasn’t it obvious? “We’re having a battle of ideas using Hosu as the metaphorical chessboard and measuring success by degree of societal impact via media coverage.” 

Okay, maybe I’m reaching and just shoving fancy words into Shigaraki’s mouth, and he’ll probably be speaking about it via video game terminology, but still. 

Hence, ‘it all depends on tomorrow.’ He’ll be ready. I’ve mentioned before that Shigaraki keeps up with the news - the man reads newspapers in the 22th/23rd century - so it would be easy and familiar for him to analyze multiple sources and reach a conclusion. Although, it’ll be obvious.

The winner: Stain.

Shigaraki lost and he’s pissed. 

-

whew. I apologize if this was like obvious and I was sounding repetitive and patronizing, which is not my intention! Thank you for reading allllll of this!! I hope it was good!!

#Shigaraki Tomura #Shigaraki #Tomura Shigaraki #My Hero Academia #Boku no Hero Academia #bnha #mha #heroaca #hero killer stain #nalslastworkingbraincell #this is like #the pinnacle (so far) of my love for Shigaraki #I had wanted to understand him so much lol #there's still a part two omg #about the mall scene #meta #bnha meta #also i hope the bold didn't detract from the readability

[fakeyellow]

Based on a prompt asking for an insane Kamilah. The story’s structured so that the main events are revealed in a series of flashbacks told by Kamilah.

Since the First Vampire’s rise and fall 500 years ago, Kamilah Sayeed has moved into legend, a woman drenched in the blood of thousands. 

Rosella has made it her mission to find out why. 

Part 2.  Part 3.

Rosella came to, feeling a dull, throbbing ache in the back of her head, and made to rub it when she found her hands cuffed to the chair. The memories flooded back into her mind at the feel of the cold iron and she quickly swivelled her head around to try to gain insight into where she was being held. 

She was in an expansive chamber with no exit in sight, broken shards of glass littering the sides of the room. The room was like the ruins of a museum, empty exhibits everywhere where artefacts must once have been. This must have been where the Order of Dawn had kept the articles, trophies of their conquests and she couldn’t help but hiss in disgust.

And then Rosella heard the sound of doors being pushed open somewhere behind her and the clicking of heels against the marble floor.

Her heart sped erratically as she smelled the calming scent of lavender and Rosella finally laid eyes upon her captor.

Kamilah Sayeed.

The living legend was standing right in front of her, dressed in an impeccably tailored pantsuit that outlined every inch of her curves. In the light, her suit looked as if it were drenched in blood, and Rosella internally shuddered at the terrifyingly beautiful image. She was every bit the striking figure of legend and more.

Every newly Turned vampire learned about this woman as she was a vital part of vampire history and present, and was responsible for thousands of deaths. If the First Vampire had been a goddess, she was a Queen, who was perhaps even more feared than the former now that the First Vampire was long dead.

Her features were timeless, set in an immovable and beautiful face, and yet there was something more to her, something that hinted at the two thousand and five hundred years of life she had experienced.

But what surprised Rosella most was the lucid, brown depth of the woman’s eyes. They weren’t the bright red of vampires caught in the throes of bloodlust and they contained no hint of madness like the myths said. No, these were the eyes of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing.

She noticed the daggers sheathed at the vampire’s hip and knew instantly that this was the pair of infamous daggers that had claimed the lives of countless lives. It was deceptively simple with only the barest of ornamentation on their pommels.

Nobody except the leader of her clan, who had once been a member of Clan Sayeed, knew how these daggers looked because the people who laid eyes on them did not last long enough to tell others. Seeing them was a death sentence but Rosella felt a surge of fearful triumph; she was here with Kamilah Sayeed (although there was no telling how much longer she’d be here alive).

Being captured by the legend herself had never been the plan, but now that she was in this position, Rosella realised this was the best chance she had of finding out the truth directly from the source.

She just needed to keep the world’s oldest living and most dangerous vampire interested enough in her to not kill her, at least until she was able to hear the truth. No big deal, she could do that… She hoped.

Rosella knew she’d have to speak first in order to pique the woman’s interest but the words spilled out of her naturally, “I don’t understand.”

The vampire stared at her silently, offering no signs that she had heard or was willing to entertain her, but Rosella continued anyway, unable to stop the words that had started flowing, the questions that had built up inside her ever since she had been Turned and learned of this woman.

“You’re Kamilah Sayeed. Everyone respected you, everyone knew how powerful you were, but you used that power in order to maintain peace. You committed... devastating atrocities against humans with Gaius but it seemed like you were at least atoning for them. You protected vampires and humans alike from the wrath of Gaius and then the First Vampire when she arose again and you helped defeat both of them. You single-handedly destroyed the Order of the Dawn… So why did you turn against us? Why do you hunt us? Are you so bloodthirsty that you need to resort to killing your own brethren?! Haven’t you spilled enough blood?!”

Rosella had tried to keep her emotions restrained; she knew throwing frenzied accusations at the woman would only serve to alienate her, which was the very opposite of what she wanted. But she couldn’t do it. Her voice rose in intensity with each word until she was feverishly yelling the last question at the woman, tears rolling down her cheeks. The faces of all the friends and family she had lost appeared in her mind like a never-ending movie, causing her heart to break all over again but she kept her eyes open and fixed on the unmoving woman.

There had been a flicker of amusement on Kamilah’s face at the beginning but her face had quickly smoothed over again. Kamilah easily met Rosella’s watery and yet determined gaze before frowning and looking away as if she had found something she didn’t like in Rosella’s eyes.

“Do you know who was with me the night the First Vampire rose again?”

The sudden question startled Rosella but she answered instinctively, listing off the names that had been taught to her and every other newly Turned vampire since the Great Battle, ““Adrian Raines, head of Clan Raines, Jax Matsuo, head of clan Matsuo, formerly the Clanless, and Lily Spencer, second in command of Clan Matsuo.”

A dark flash came over Kamilah’s face before she gave a bitter laugh.

“Nobody ever mentions her. She was the one person tying everything together and yet, it’s like she never existed.”

Rosella furrowed her brows in confusion; she knew she hadn’t missed anyone from her lessons, but she was wary of asking, not wanting to test Kamilah’s patience any more than she already had.

“Her name was Eden,” Kamilah said, her voice growing somehow soft, each syllable said with tender affection.

“She was the most remarkable person I’d met.”

—-

The fight hadn’t been going well. They had been too cornered, too outnumbered, too powerless against the First Son. Even if he hadn’t sustained himself with blood for thousands of years, he had the undiluted blood of the First flowing through him, and with his limitless forces of trained killers, there was no way they could leave with their lives intact.

Xenocrates hadn’t even made use of his skills yet; in an arrogant and yet not unfounded show of power, he stood in the center of the fighting, simply watching as his soldiers were replaced as quickly as they were killed.

Not even Adrian or Kamilah could keep this up infinitely.

With the Order’s weapons, there was no choice but to keep the fighting as close in proximity to the soldiers as possible. The three of them moved effortlessly through the crowds, their weapons making quick work of the humans even as their actions gradually slowed.

Eden was running around the chamber, knocking out soldiers with one of the Order’s weapons. Kamilah spared a split second to look towards Eden and found her using her weapon to knock down the arm of a soldier who had gotten too close to her. She felt a fierce sense of pride and relief, recognising Eden’s move as one she had taught her.

But this momentary lapse in focus cost Kamilah and she felt the tip of a crossbow drag down her forearm, opening an angry gash. The Egyptian woman let out a snarl, killing the attacker in a matter of seconds before stepping over the dead bodies she had accrued around her to attack the next soldier.

She could feel her body knitting itself back together but it was too slow, it made her too slow.  

A UV bomb clipped her side and Kamilah faltered in her bloody stride. A quick scan of the chamber showed that Adrian and Jax were in similar states, their wounds too accumulated. And Eden. Kamilah locked eyes with Eden, seeing her own desperation mirrored.

Could this truly be it? Would this be where they met their end, unable to stop Gaius or Xenocrates?

She saw Eden’s face harden with resolve and Kamilah felt a terror greater than any she had felt during the night when Eden darted to the Tree. She made to go after her, noticing in her peripheral vision that Xenocrates was following suit, also having seen where she was headed.

“No, don’t-”

The warning died in her throat as Eden threw herself at the Tree, biting it with all her might, and a blinding light suddenly illuminated the room.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” Xenocrates howled in fury.

The fighting momentarily halted, vampires and soldiers alike turned towards the figure who stepped out of the vortex of light.

“It’s been so long, my fallen prince.”

The body of the woman who spoke was at once Eden and yet not. Oppressing amounts of power rolled off her in waves and dripped from her unearthly voice. With a mere raise of her hand, blazing bolts of fire soared in the air before finding their mark in the chests of hundreds of soldiers, who promptly fell to the ground.

But her eyes, her blood-red eyes, were fixed solely on the cowering figure of Xenocrates, promising revenge on the one who had dared to imprison her. There were no pithy remarks, no clever insults thrown. Instead, in one last valiant attempt, he threw himself at her with a wordless cry.

Eden, no, Rheya thrust her hand into his chest and pulled it out, holding a throbbing heart. He fell to the ground in an unceremonious heap, a gaping hole in his chest through which large globules of fat and other organs could be seen glistening underneath the torn tatters of skin.

Rheya stared impassively at the still beating source of life before baring her fangless mouth and biting into it in one feral motion. Blood sputtered out of the flailing organ but she continued to steadily chew until its movements stopped and the heart fell apart into ashes.

It was only then that she turned towards the sole living survivors in the room, all of whom had remained frozen in horror at the unfolding scene.

“My children, you have nothing to fear from me,” she raised her arms as if to embrace them lovingly, but Xenocrate’s blood had painted deep rivulets of crimson down her chin and arms.

When the looks of distrust and fear did not disappear from their faces and they instead readied their weary bodies to attack, she looked disappointingly at the three of them.

“I-”

Her face suddenly twisted into a terrible grimace and she lurched forward, only just able to maintain her balance. As the three watched her in confusion, she hissed angrily to herself, “Do not fight the blood. Embrace it.”

And then whatever internal struggle she had been undergoing seemed to end and Rheya spared them not a single glance as she disappeared out of the chambers.

—-

Kamilah abruptly stopped, walking out of the room and leaving Rosella alone to think about this woman who had never once come up in her lessons.

Eden, the mortal Bloodkeeper who had, in an act of foolish bravery, become possessed by the First Vampire.

Kamilah talked about her as if she were speaking of a lover and she had not been quick enough in her exit for Rosella to not notice the yearnfullook on her face.

Rosella knew the First Vampire was long dead, killed in the Great Battle, but what had happened to Eden in the process?

She had a feeling that the answer to this question would explain Kamilah’s steep descent.

—-

A/N: Damn it. I’m literally about to start med school and here I am with an outline for a whole new story. Apologies for any errors; I’m going out with my classmates tonight but I really wanted to get this out first.

Insane Kamilah was asked for by @galaxyside-0​ and I was also inspired by a post by @thefirstcourtesan​ about how she thinks MC will be possessed by Rheya when she drinks from the Tree.

In case it’s not clear, Rosella is an OC, a fairly new/young vampire. The events of BB2 happened around ~500 years ago and Eden is the MC. You’ll be learning along with Rosella about what happened to cause Kamilah to become the infamous legend she now is.

#i literally only get inspired when i'm busy or have things to do smh #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #BloodBound #playchoices #My writing

[ask-hunterxhunter]

Can I have a headcanon of the adult trio if they were in harry potter, like what house they'd be in, and who you'd ship them with?

Oh, this was so fun to imagine!Regarding theLove Interests, I didn’t place them with characters I actually ship them with but theones I think might have higher chances of getting their attention… The triowouldn’t be more interested in romance than they are in the Hunter universe,but having to live with several peoplein the castle during the year might end up making a few of them stand out in theireyes.

Their “preferences” would remain the same as well. Also, I only went forcharacters that actively appear in the books (including some of the adults). Ihave to say, this part was a bit hard, but I had a lot of fun! If anyone there has aheadcanon of your own or some idea about this particular scenario, please tellme!!!!

Illumi

House: Ravenclaw (definitely intelligent enough) or Slytherin(cunning enough). He would be one of those particular difficult students tosort (maybe they should create a House just for him…)Blood Status: Rumored Half-Blood or Pureblood (it isn’t clear andit’s not like people have the guts to ask Illumi anything personal).

Illumi in aboarding school is not quite a good idea, not only because the Zoldyck familywould still be known assassins and prefer to teach their children at home, butalso because of Illumi’s firm belief that assassins don’t have friends andbeing forced to live with other people during the year would make him dislikeschool quite a lot.

Regarding thefamily trade, it is very likely that Voldemort tried to recruit them, beingdenied (same going for the Order of the Phoenix). While the Zoldycks didn’tmind doing jobs for both sides back in the days of the war and even afterVoldemort’s second rising, they refused to take an active position and bothsides knew better than to cross any lines with them, reason why Voldemort nevertried to resort to blackmail or any other forceful method (despite hisarrogance and horcruxes, he knew it would only make the whole family out for his blood and they might jointhe Order then, which was an unnecessary risk as long as they kept acceptingmaking business with him) and arguments about how this war affects everyone andthey should do what is right also don’t yield much results. It’s not easy totell if they would eventually take a side when Voldemort took control orcontinue with their lives.

Truth is, theZoldyck don’t believe in blood supremacy (blood is all the same when it’s spilled),but they honestly couldn’t care less about this war since they are powerfulenough to keep themselves safe and move away if it seems to be the best for thefamily. Some who harbor more sense of honor and personal morals (such as Zeno,perhaps) may despise Voldemort for “killing for fun” or such “unfounded motives”and the level of torture his side employs even without need, but that would beit. Of course, that’s not considering Killua, who would join the Order as soonas he could, but I digress.

Because of hisreputation, it’s very unlikely thatIllumi would suffer any bullying for whatever reason (such as his mother comingfrom the Meteor City). And even if others didn’t know him to be a Zoldyck, he wouldstill be the sort of guy that others get out of the way by pressingthemselves against the wall.

 Students thatknow about the Zoldyck’s family business would prefer to keep their distancejust in case at first, Illumi’s attitude later making this seem the saferoption. The few who don’t know or try to approach him anyway would realize quitesoon that Illumi doesn’t want anything to do with them and it’s better to leavehim alone. He has enough self-control to not kill people around him just becausethey irritated him (and a cold glare has proved to be as effective in thisscenario), but those who tried (insisted) in befriending him would be utterlydisliked by Illumi, even if their intentions are actually pure. He doesn’t need friends. He doesn’t want friends. And despite everything, ifit became necessary to be cruel (verbally) in order to make those people getthe message, he would.

 Illumi’sthreatening reputation wouldn’t be enough to push some admirers away, but mostof them would be too wary to approach him directly (love letters or gifts arecompletely ignored by Illumi, I might add). Note that while he doesn’t form deepemotional relationships, Illumi wouldn’t go around antagonizing people. Wantingto have a peaceful life in school, he would remain polite (unless provokedbeyond his self-control) to his classmates, being that quiet guy who is notfriends with anyone but is neither bullied, mean or someone’s enemy, per say. Ina way, Illumi sees this school as an assignment of sorts that must be completed(though he tries to sway his parents to allow him to be educated at home). Juststay out of his way and you’ll be fine.

 The rich andsnob clique of the school may have some derogatory opinion of the Meteor Cityand people from there (regardless of how damn rich the Zoldyck are), but theywould know better than to say an “A” about Illumi’s mother (due to his family’sreputation, some wouldn’t want to talk about Illumi even in the privacy of theirdorms, fearing he has a way of knowing it anyway).

Possible Love Interests: (Illumi isn’tinterested in love in his own story, what makes you think it would be anydifferent in Hogwarts?)

° Narcissa Black:Although not much of Narcissa is revealed, it’s clear that despite being anarrogant woman, she values family above all else. If attending school together,Narcissa might be somewhat curious about the Zoldyck, which she would hide outof pride (and some self-preservation that she will never admit). The fact he stateswithout a care that blood purity is plain stupidity would make room for sometension between them on her part (and not always in a good sense) as Narcissa,while not dumb to provoke him too much, she wouldn’t cower in fright at hissight either. If things would be good between them is another matter completely…They might develop a somewhat friendly ground after a while or become nastyenemies, depending on how both respond to the situation and how far they arewilling to take things. There is also the possibility of the Black familyconsidering trying an arranged marriage between her and Illumi.

° Hannah Abbot:Now, this is a tricky case and one I wouldn’t quite call “romantic”. WhileHannah appears to be kind-natured and gentle, also loyal and courageous as shestayed to fight during the Battle of Hogwarts, she also demonstrated a somewhatvulnerable side that allows her to be swayed by other’s opinions (two evidences:In the second year when she was convinced by Ernie that Harry was attackingpeople, despite thinking Harry had always seemed a nice guy and on the fourthyear it’s safe to assume she was among the many Hufflepuff students who worethose badges against Harry despite having been in good terms with him).

I don’t thinkIllumi would actively pursue anyone romantically, but the fact that it seems hewould be able to have a degree of control over Hannah while nurturing her strengthwould certainly make her fit in his controlling views. However, I like to thinkher friends would try to help her once they realized Illumi is toxic to her.

Hisoka

House: Slytherin.Blood Status: Unknown (yeah, is anyone surprised?).

 Hisoka wouldbasically show Hogwarts why perhaps they should consider having a counselor/psychologistfor the students… He wouldn’t go around challenging classmates to duels 24/7 orbe disturbing in the level of someone such as Illumi, but his interest in strongopponents would remain pretty much the same as well as his bloodlust, whichmight be even worse as he is still so young. Classmates would be unsure ofwhether or not to approach him (even during first year) and even how, as youcan never tell with Hisoka: Sometimes his good mood isn’t “normal student”happy because he got a good grade or any other reason, but because he secretlykicked someone’s ass. Of course, due to several reasons, he would hide some ofhis worst traits (or at least how deep they go) a lot more than he doesoriginally, but he would still creep some people out quite a bit.

 Just like inthe Hunter Universe, Hisoka would be a lone wolf and remain an enigma throughoutall of his years in Hogwarts: No one knows where he came from, about his parents,how he could know several spells before ever coming to Hogwarts… And that’sjust how Hisoka likes it, as his past remains something he just doesn’t talkabout.

 Classmates couldalso at times see him training physical fighting in the school grounds. While thesnobbish groups would sneer at the idea of “muggle wresting”, they would stillbe “somewhat” impressed by his flexibility and agility, especially if they hadthe chance to see Hisoka dueling, ashe uses those moves while casting spells, making him a hard target, having anew style that is entirely his own. Even at his first year, he would beconsidered especially talented, but even the teachers would be unsure if thisis a good or bad thing, despite Hisoka acting polite and respectful towardsthem (secretly wondering if he would get to duel them someday). His gradeswould also be quite good, even with subjects he seems to not care much for.

 While Hisoka wouldn’tmind social interaction, people shouldn’t be to quick to consider themselves hisfriends but few realize this since, like I mentioned, Hisoka would hide hismore sociopathic traits more while in school. Towards his teenage years hewould also have a few “flings” (there would be quite some people interested inhim, especially after the weekend Hisoka pretty much walked to the lake, tossedhis shirt aside and just went for a swim in front of half of the school).

Not one to acceptbeing constricted, he wouldn’t have issues with interacting with students fromthe other Houses as well and, to be honest, it could be quite peaceful (or asclose to it as we can get with this clown). Regarding some other students ofSlytherin and their belief in blood purity or the rivalry with Gryffindor,well, Hisoka wouldn’t want anything to do with that from day one. If someonestarted talking about it, he would give them a bored, cold glare and say thisis easily the most moronic thing he ever heard in his entire life. Of coursethe purists in his House would be angered by this and try to either pressureHisoka or downright demand him to follow the “House rules”, which they wouldcome to regret quite soon, even if they are older. You want a rule? Hisoka hasone for you: Don’t you ever try tomake him do something he doesn’t want. Not if you want to keep the bones ofyour hand intact.

 Yes, Hisoka wouldn’thave issues with “demonstrating” how strength has nothing to do with blood status,after all… Blood looks all the same when painting the walls, doesn’t it? Thiswould make some of his House mates fear him while others, like Draco Malfoy,would hate him and believe him to be a blood traitor (or muggleborn), however ifthey acted upon it, it would endbadly for them, since Hisoka’s reactions would be… Well, pretty muchfrightening. And you should know how Hisoka is someone you wouldn’t want hating you (Hell, this goes for all theAdult Trio and we know it). Those who agree that those questions are just nonsensewould actually be cheering Hisoka on from the inside and might feel more confidentto express their opinion, so hey, maybe something good can come out of this?

However, don’tthink this means Hisoka would ever be part of a group that goes around provingthose points. Yes, blood purity is stupid. Yes, this feud between the twoHouses is boring. This doesn’t mean he will try to make other people see thisor take a stand against it, either: Hedoesn’t care.

 There is somechance he would get along fairly well with the Weasley twins (again, not quitea friendship, but…), even taking partin some of their pranks and often buying their products.

Possible Love Interests:

 ° LunaLovegood: Poor girl… She would catch his attention without even trying, and not so much due to the strangeaccessories she likes but due to the things she says and not in a negative way,either. Hisoka doesn’t like boring people and Luna is far from it in hisopinion. If anything, her open mind and theories would spark his interest andhe would enjoy talking with her. Luna might also be among the people who cansense how deep Hisoka’s distortion goes and her occasional comments about histrue nature would often impress him, as well as that particular strength sheseems to have.

This couldremain a mere “friendship” or become deeper in nature, to the point Hisokawould be seriously interested in her and not as a mere affair. And while hedoesn’t care for people, Luna would be the exception to this particular rule.  

° Sirius Black:This could end up either as a serious relationship or indeed something born onlyout of sexual interest and nothing more. There is something about Sirius’behavior in his teen that might attract Hisoka’s attention, such as Sirius’wits and confidence (and well, both can be quite show-offs at times). Hisoka isnot shy in displaying interest and wouldn’t be so during his teens. Not havinga care for rules or problems, it’s also likely he would enjoy joining theMarauders in some of their mischief. He wouldn’t be a part of the group, but wouldfind them pleasant enough for occasional company. Like I mentioned, whateverhappened between him and Sirius might be solely physical, sex and nothing more,or it might become an actual relationship.

° NymphadoraTonks: Being a Metamorphmagus would certainly arouse Hisoka’s interest, due tobeing such a rare thing to come across. It would be the first thing that wouldmake Hisoka pay attention to her. Her style might be taken as “different” or “weird”for other wizards (pink or purple hair), but Hisoka would actually find itrather attractive (namely, hot as hell) exactly because it’s her own (unlikesome who might use the Metamorph ability to become unbelievable attractive, Tonksuse it as she likes it, rather than to fit the societal norm).

As she notesin the book, her Head of House said she “lacked the ability to behave”. We see Tonksis full of life and good humor, traits Hisoka would definitely enjoy. This isn’tto say a relationship would work well or even happen (well, same can be saidfor all of the relationships of this post) due to Hisoka’s bloodlust.

° HermioneGranger: An unsure case, that may be just a fling or become something more… It wouldbe one of the cases when it seems the couple has nothing in common with eachother and how the hell did that happen to begin with?

Well, atfirst Hisoka would have zero interestin Hermione, deeming her a boring girl who can only follow the rules and recitetextbooks. Not his type. Hermione would also consider him as far from her typeas possible. Sure, he doesn’t go around calling her names or bullying her likeother Slytherins, but she knows he is far from being a “good guy”.

However, Hisokamight start to tease her from time to time, just to be a pest (especially whenhe is bored), though it wouldn’t ever get to the point of bullying. They wouldquickly develop a certain comfort zone with each other. Hisoka’s teasing wouldgo on, as if to make her unwind a little (and probably become a little moreflirtatious later on) and Hermione, while certainly often aggravated by him,would find that she doesn’t mind it so much… It would be quite strange for bothof them and for several reasons, but it might happen.

Chrollo

House: Ravenclaw. Controlled with his emotions, Chrollo hasa quick mind and a desire for knowledge that would make him fit in right away. Somehouse-mates may compete with him for grades, but Chrollo shows no interest insuch.Blood Status: Muggleborn or Half-blood. Hard to say, since he doesn’ttalk about his life outside of Hogwarts, but being from Meteor City, it’s veryunlikely that he is a Pureblood. And the people who know for sure don’t talkabout it with others.

We can’t saythat the Adult Trio would be better in Hogwarts or cause no problems andChrollo is no exception, even if he may seem better adjusted than Hisoka or Illumi,but this is an act and nothing more. He would be considered the perfect candidatefor Head Boy by the teachers: Well behaved, polite, incredibly intelligent… Butthose who have sharp instincts may feel something off about him, that hints to his actual nature as, in fact, he wouldbe pretty much just like he is in the Hunter Universe regardless of a youngerage: A person who has no qualms about killing others to achieve what he wantsand who cares for no one who is not part of his inner circle of friends (andGod have mercy if you hurt any of them in anyway). However, just like Chrollocould fool Neon, he would be able to fool everyone in Hogwarts.

 Coming fromMeteor City, it’s also likely that he had to grow up too fast, so the teacherswho are aware of the city’s conditions may try to approach him wanting to offerany comfort or help that might be necessary, but Chrollo would act as if he isa well-adjusted child (only accepting said help if it seems they would find itstrange if he refused too much). In a way, Hogwarts would be somewhat of atraining ground, as the first thing he would do once graduating would beofficially forming the Genei Ryodan. He wouldn’t be learning just the academic subjects,but observing people, listening about politics, expanding the knowledge hewould later employ (and even testing some of it already).

As Imentioned, Chrollo (as well as his goals) would remain pretty much the same. Now,while Hogwarts may be a certain oasis for its students, it wouldn’t ever become a “home” for Chrollo, evenif he would like it there (it canbecome a place of high emotional value even after he leaves), the knowledge,the possibilities it offers and he would have days he just enjoys a more normallife, no doubt, but his only home will always be the Meteor City. Still, it’snot easy to say if he wouldn’t ever steal something from there with the Spidersdue to the memories/respect for the place (though if some item such as thePhilosopher’s Stone was currently beingkept there, then you can believe they would as the stone is not part of the school).

 Even at ayoung age, Chrollo would be quite a prodigy and if we take a crossover whereNen doesn’t exist, you can believe that the Skill Hunter would, in one shape or another: Chrollo would be talented enough tobe able to create his own spells, a few of them quite complicated actually, sohe might find a way to absorb one’s magical talents in an at least similar way.Of course, no one would have any idea of this, even when he started to make “tests”right in the school grounds, testing the extent of what he can do.

 While he wouldbe well mannered and those who fancy him (male and female) would be enough forChrollo to be considered “popular”, people wouldn’t be able to get as close tohim as they think, just like in the Hunter universe. Chrollo would deceivethose he wants to come close enough to try some spell, curse or try the SkillHunter on as he perfects it, but there would very few emotional attachments inhis school life. Some students who would go around claiming to be his friends wouldnot be considered the same by Chrollo, as the only exception would be those whoalso came from Meteor City, perhaps those who would later on become part of theSpider, if they happen to be attending Hogwarts as well. He might considerrecruiting others as well when they graduate, depending on their power even ifthey are not from the same city. It should be noted that they would seem likeany other group of close friends (contrary to the students who became DeathEaters, as some of them already used Dark Magic in school) rather than future murderers.

 About thequestion of Death Eaters, while Voldemort might at least consider recruitingthe Spiders (or at least the most powerful, such as Chrollo) despite the possibility of their blood status (as theyare certainly a worthy addition to his side), he wouldn’t be able to find them morethan others in the Hunter Universe and the Spiders would have no more interestin taking part in the war than the Zoldycks, unless the Meteor City started tosuffer because of it, in which case they would return there and kill whateverDeath Eater (and perhaps even members of the Order) in a clear warning thatthey should leave the city out ofthis mess.

 Chrollo mayface some prejudice and bullying if it became known he came from Meteor Cityand also because, again, of his possible blood status by people like Draco Malfoy,for example. Chrollo would have some pretty poisonous responses to taunts thatwould be said in the calmest tone ever… And of course, if some ill fate were tobefall a person who annoyed him a bit too much… Well, it’s not like anyone can ever prove anything.

Possible Love Interests:

° HermioneGranger: There are several reasons why Hermione would catch Chrollo’s attentionand the fact she is so intelligent is not the only one. He might approach herafter crossing paths so often in the library, in a tentative way as he is stillmerely curious about her. His interest wouldn’t be romantic from the get-go, sinceat first Chrollo would just be content to find someone who enjoys reading and sharesa similar thirst for knowledge.

Over time,their interactions would increase and not be limited to the latest book theyread or what they think about a particular spell, with Chrollo starting to paymore attention to her and becoming a friend she can turn to when she fightswith Ron or Harry (Chrollo would certainly spend several hours with her in the thirdyear when both stopped talking to her for a while). However, in those times,Chrollo would subtly try to shift her attention to himself, wanting to separateher from the others. He would try keeping this as innocent as possible, sincehe would know at once that trying to turn Hermione against her friends wouldbackfire pretty badly.

In the end, regardlessof how things turn out, she may be one of the very few people that won’t becomepart of the Spiders (having, you know, morals) that Chrollo can stand.

° Harry Potter:Chrollo would have the same normal curiosity that many of the wizarding world sharesregarding Harry due to him surviving the Avada curse (and whether or not thismeans he has a possible rare skill Chrollo can steal), approaching Harry withoutacting as a fan or assuming to know anything about him. While he would be justas friendly as he is with everyone else, he would be basically evaluating Harryin several ways, including as a person.

Harry’spersonality, determination and the trouble “adventures” he gets intowould make him interesting in Chrollo’s eyes in a more personal way, regardlessif he seems to not possess any special skill that Chrollo would want to steal.Being quite good at reading people, Chrollo would be able to find a few thingsabout Harry (such as his situation with the Dursleys) without even talkingabout it. He might even consider recruiting Harry as a Spider, since he hasseveral qualities that would make him a good member… And maybe a part ofChrollo thinks about this because he wants to keep Harry close…

Eventually,they would develop a sort of camaraderie between them, which can become a seriousrelationship. If he happens to be older than Harry, Chrollo would definitely presenthimself as “the aloof and cool older student” that Harry can count on.

#headcanon #harry potter headcanon #harry potter crossover #crossover #hunter x hunter #hxh #headcanon hxh #illumi #chrollo #hisoka #Hogwarts AU #I give three days for the castle to be on fire #harry potter/hunter x hunter #you really think giving the Adult Trio a wand is a good idea?

[loki-of-war]

 Love him. AO3.

   Love him, when you don’t know him.  

He is a boy too cocky and overconfident; his serpent eyes do not know yet how to fear you. Love him, anyway, when he offers a name that you never asked for, when you notice the blood under his nails and its smell cloying the already sweet aroma of his sweat, the smudges of dirt on his brow and cheekbones. He looks at you with none of the disappointment, hatred or disgust you have become familiar with, and instead of killing him where he stands, of tainting the blue of his chopped hair with red, of immortalizing the malign twist of that mean, mean smile in death, of filling the blank spaces of his limbs with needles, your heart beats, afraid, tenderly, because what is beginning to bloom in that instant is new and risky and troublesome, your skin feels warm as if you are back home, palms hovering near the fire of the chimney, and you love him without knowing it, love him the way he approaches you—innocently, unknowing, unaware.

Love him, when you can’t,

when cold with dread, the memory of a meeting brings bugs to crawl beneath your skin, a fist to pummel the frantic beating of your heart, your lungs to fill with water, and you remember your lessons, you remember everything you know or thought you knew, the needles, the killings, the mountains of disjointed bodies, the torture chamber, Mother’s voice, soft as silk, ingraining ‘Family is all that matters Illu’, Father’s hand on your shoulder, a reminder of what could happen in the face of failure,  and how none of those things matter, for a brief moment of rapture, when the boy keeps appearing with those all-knowing eyes and the too quick wit, and says with that viperine tongue of his, that you are the best, you are his favorite, that he will enjoy fighting you the most. And you say no, no, you never will, you do not react, do not crack with a sign of emotion, and you love him, love him for the appraisal and the notice he willingly gives when nobody else cares to. You have never been anybody’s favorite, but for some reason, you are his.

Love him, when you pretend not to.

Love him, but don’t show him. Love him, as if you don’t hunger for his scalding touch, on a cheek, on the curve of a shoulder, sliding through the thick fall of your hair, and as you grow older, on a starving mouth, on the slope of your nose, under your chin, under your knees, under layers of clothes, between your thighs; love him, as if his name is not written on your soul like an ardent brand, and you do not live for the seconds spent in his company. Like his grin doesn’t stake you, like you don’t wish to mold your mouth to the shape of his, like your eyes don’t follow the graceful edge to the manner in which he conducts his body, like when he off-handedly comments that you are beautiful your breath does not choke on its way out, like you don’t drift off to sleep with the caress of his slippery voice on your ear, like he does not own the key to unlock your laughs, like you do not wonder what his blood would taste like against your tongue, what his bones would feel like crunching in your grasp during a fight—love him.

   Love him, when he is broken.  

He tells you things, sometimes, about his past. He speaks of monsters that are not like you and him, and of pain and boundless humiliation. He speaks of shame. His eyes are those of a doll, in such moments, wide and unstaring, lost somewhere far, distant, and you know where he is, you have been there too, many times. He becomes quiet, eloquent, pronouncing his words with slow deliberation, his vowels denoting gravity to what he says. He is different, but he doesn’t stop being what you want. You love him then, when he is manic, and restless bloodlust spikes. Whenever you find him after an encounter with another one of his numerous toys, unexpectedly shattered, you love him, and put him back together, suture the wounds that can’t be seen by treating him like there is nothing wrong— because in reality there isn’t anything wrong with him, he is perfect, normal— you brush his sweaty hair back from his forehead, wipe the blood you wish you could lick with your fingers and the long sleeves of a suit, shirt, or sweater if you are wearing one, heal him even though he might not want to, wishing for the day when his bruises will be yours.

   Love him, when it is inevitable.  

When he truly smiles, and his eyes are like pools of light at the crack of dawn, with none of the malice he wears like a shield. When he cries and you don’t think him weak for it; you admire the strength he has to do what you are no longer able to. When he is strange and so unlike anyone else that even when you can’t fully understand, you feel welcome at his side. When he is excited, his aura trembling in bloodlust, his expression the one that makes others shiver, disgusted, and makes you roll your eyes at the heavens, secretly fond. Love him as you love all of the insignificant little things. The wrinkles on his forehead as he frowns because you sneaked into his room at Heaven’s Arena and woke him again with a needle deep into his chest, a couple millimeters shy of puncturing his heart, more upset about being so rudely dragged from sleep at the tender hour of three in the morning rather than the threat of an assassin straddling his lap with a fistful of pins. How he walks on his tiptoes when he is trying to convince you to pick a fight, and you can almost picture a pair of dog ears on his head. The hidden shyness that drives the compulsion to cover his skin, be extravagant, be different, to bury any trace of humanity that can diminish his image. The way he blushes the color of his flaming hair when you compliment him. His long fingered hands, carefully treated, masculine yet delicate. The satisfied smugness he displays after mindless killings, the pleasure he feels for chaos and death calling out to a fragile, tentative breath inside you that longs for freedom although it (you) shouldn’t. The superficial cuts mischievous cards dancing casually trough the air, back and forth, kiss on the inside of your elbows. Love the boldness, the choice not to dance to a rhythm that is not his own. Love the silly drawings he paints on his cheeks and the way he dons heels, like they were made specifically for combat and for him. Love that he is loud, impossible to ignore, everything you have been taught not to be. Love him, inescapably.

Love him, when you don’t.

Love him, when you hate him with the single-minded focus required for a long-standing mission. When the sole coherent thought in your mind is that of destroying him ever so slowly, of your hands pulling onto that lying jaw of his until its tied to his skull by mere strings of muscle tissue, of holding his eyes in your own as you tear his broad chest open and feel the ridges of his beating heart where your fingers would settle to finally have the traitorous organ in your grasp, of breaking through bone, flesh and intestines with the onslaught of claws, adorning him in pretty holes through which anyone would see the galore of gore, how those insides would crawl down the holes and fall— you dream of destroying him so thoroughly that he will cease destroying you in turn. When he comes to you covered in the odors of foreign bodies, when the spot under his chin is raw bitten, when the marks that haunt his smooth skin have no relation to fighting, when his keen stare wanders to another and he shines like he did the night he met a boy of eyes and complexion that resembled the dead, you hate him, hate him profoundly, hate him with a passion that erodes and you are not sure that there is not a hole of your own creation being burned into your stomach, where you often feel the intensity of your hatred reside.

Your hate flows like water from a well that refuses to dry and it does not end, because you can see his back as he walks away from you, hunting for his next thrill. Because he chooses Chrollo, and you don’t say what needs to be said, you sit there, humor him, swallow every bitter pill, and let him leave. He chooses to run after him while you bite your knuckles, butcher your jobs, and you ask yourself in front of the mirror what was it exactly that you did wrong. Because he then glows at the sight of the pathetic green insect that keeps on pestering Kill; the child is suddenly all he speaks of, as if he is enchanted and charmed and amazed, and you find yourself marveling at your reflection again, asking yourself why you are not enough for him anymore. You hate him, you want his blood on your hands, and Mother was right, you should have listened, you ought to have stepped on the wretched worm of feeling wreaking havoc on your common sense, and you don’t love him, you don’t love him at all. Love does not contaminate you at the remembrance of his laughter or the volatile heat of his touch, or the showing of bare calves that’s rare in its lack of intent or how strikingly handsome he looks with his hair down. When, as always, he eventually returns to you, you tell yourself you don’t love him. You don’t love him, when he comes to you bearing a box of your favorite sweets. You don’t love him, when he leans his head on your shoulder, the scent of his fruity shampoo drifting to your nostrils, and animatedly gesticulates his way around retellings of what he has done and experienced without you. But you do. Love him, you mean. You never stopped, and it shatters you that it hits you so clearly, as he grins and talks and is just with you, near you, that you love him, like the first blossom that pushes through coats of snow at the end of winter, ready to begin again. Love him, brand anew. Cradle your newborn love and bandage it, like you have done over and over throughout the years. Love him, in the patient way you have learned to bear both the hurt and the affection, because, in the end, you know he will always choose you.

Love him, when he chooses himself.

When he does not choose you. He stands there, like nothing can touch him, like nothing can harm him, and you have been dead for what feels like eternity, after hearing about what Chrollo did to him in Heaven’s Arena, but that becomes inconsequential, is absolutely nothing compared to how he obliterates you right then with a single sentence. You thought the heartbreak was the worst part, but you were wrong, and you are bursting from within, you fear that what composes you will escape through every pore, or that you might dissolve where you are, and you wonder, is this a nightmare? When he doesn’t smile, when he doesn’t joke, when his eyes remain dull, you understand you are not dreaming. You think you are not alive, as you examine him from his head to his feet, that your body will crumble at the seams at any given second, and you think that for the first time in your acquaintance, in whatever your relationship to one another is, you finally understand him and it hurts more than any poison or torture, it pierces right through you because you never thought to build defenses for this. You see him like you never have before, and although you continue to love him (would not be capable of letting go, even now) you wish that you didn’t, wish that you were selfish enough to turn him away, to deny him and be the one to leave for once without a glance behind. When he looks at you, you wish you remembered the bittersweet denial of not loving him. When he says, I want you to kill me, and presents you with a contract, love him, do not pay attention to the lonely sound of your heart as it extinguishes, to the cries echoing in your head, to the screeching screams of hope as it dies. Love him, as you think that you should have killed him sooner, that if there was a way to tell your thirteen year old self not to lower his guard, you would. Love him, when he is cruel, the cruelest he could ever be, imploring for things you don’t want to give. Love him, even though it kills you to. Love him, as you admit defeat, as you fold your feelings and give up. Love him, and you, too, decide to choose him. Yes, you say, and watch as your whole world turns to dust.

   Love him, when you have done the unthinkable.  

As he bleeds for you, because of you, love him, love the skinny boy dressed in rags, the only one who saw you, with your arm firmly embedded in between his shoulder blades. As you take your arm out and a stream of blood leaks, love him, adore him. As all you can do is take him by the hair and hold him so close that you can feel a weakening thrum resonating across every vein and cell. As the light vanishes from the eyes you see when your own close. Love him, like you did that first day a long time ago, innocently, unknowing, unaware of consequence, except that you are now the one with blood under your nails, and the time for childish games has been long finished. Love him like you do his blood, forever edged into your essence, into everything that you are and everything you never were nor had the chance to be. Love him, when you cannot see beyond the grey hue of his lips, the missed opportunities form like smoke from a cigarette, and you recall that you never got to taste them, not once— you never got drunk on the bubblegum that even now you can smell on his stuttering breaths. Love him, embrace him, inhale him one last time, allow your tears to entangle in fiery red and whisper reassurances that he probably cannot hear. Love him, when you don’t tell him that you do, always have and always will. Love him, when fingers land on your cheek, barely conscious, and he murmurs that he is glad that it was you. Love him, when he thanks you, voice fading, and you feel yourself slipping away too, like a handful of sand through the gaps of his fingers. Love him, when the rain washes all signs of him away and you can’t perceive the cold insidiously seeping into your veins.

   Love him, when he is cold and still in your arms.  

         Love him, when he is already gone.      

#my fic #hisoillu #hisoka x illumi #illumi zoldyck #hisoka morow #hunter x hunter

[seijuurouxryuu]

We Are Not Meant To Be (But We Are)

Title: We're Not Meant To Be (But We Are) Author: Shiro (TeitoxAkashi [AO3]/ seijuurouxryuu [tumblr]) Rating: T Pairing: Reborn/ Hibari Kyouya, Yamamoto Takeshi/ Sawada Tsunayoshi, (one-sided)Hibari Kyouya/ Yamamoto Takeshi, (one-sided) Reborn/ Sawada Tsunayoshi Event: @khrrarepairweek Prompt: Bodyguard/ Hitman AU | Kidnapping Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warning, Graphic Deciptions of Violence, mentioned of drugs

Day 6: Cloud Day

Hibari glared at him. "Quit it." He tried to turn around again but Reborn held him back. "Wait."

"What do you want?"

Reborn looked at him and sighed. "I know that you like Yamamoto."

AO3

Watching Yamamoto chattering and smiling brightly at Sawada annoyed Hibari a lot. Every day, he would hear the Rain laugh at whatever Sawada said, joking with him, holding him. Whenever he managed to see them together, he could see the affection from them, the sickening tenderness in their eyes for each other.

Hibari hated it.

His mouth would run dry, rage bubbling in him followed by cold shiver down his spine. He would unconsciously clench his jaw, curled his hands into fist, wanting nothing but to bite someone to death.

And yet, when he saw them so happy, he couldn't do anything. When he saw them together, contented, he couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't find any will to even try and break them up.

They deserve each other, fitted like puzzle pieces, complimenting each other in every step, every movement. They were meant to be.

And Hibari knew that.

So he turned around, looking away each time and leave. He left every time, but the cold loneliness in his heart did not. Never did, and perhaps never will.

"Yo, Hibari." He looked back from his perch on the window stilt, gazing far away, watching the foreign land that was never his home, to see Reborn by the door, leaning against it with his arms crossed. The hitman was holding a folder, which he suspected it to be his next mission.

He grunted at him and turned, facing the hitman fully. The now physically adult hitman seemed to be amused at that and sauntered into the skylark's room, handing him the folder. "Hunt. Yes?"

Hibari's eyes flitted over the words before he closed the folder. He stood up and headed out. "Let's go." Reborn rolled his eyes at that before following, easily falling into steps beside the younger man.

Blood. There was blood everywhere. None were their as they go on rampage, never holding back. Horrified scream rang out in the air as they slaughtered through the crowd, fire burning in the background. Multiple gunshots resonated in the air along with the screams, the smell of iron in the air increases.

The herbivores ran, and they both let them, concentrating on those who were still up and fighting- futilely- against them. They would let them run, let them have the small moment of hope, but they were not done with them. Hibari whirled around, his chain from his tonfa circling around him and took out some, clipped some. He brought his tonfa down and crushed the head of one man whose name and face he didn't bother knowing with one blow.

The blood splattered on his face didn't bother him, neither did it stop his killing frenzy. If anything, the feel, colour and smell of blood increased his thirst for more.

He ducked down low and did a 360, catching the one who tried to punch him with his thigh and pulled himself up as the man tried to claw him off. He smirked, lips pulled back to show his teeth and twisted the man's head off, pulling it out from the neck. He jumped away and landed gracefully on the red floor, flooded with blood. He threw the head up and down, ignoring how the flesh seemed to splatter all around.

He wondered if a certain Rain were to throw this head at someone, would it punch through, or would the head shatter first.

He scowled and threw away the head at that, annoyance bubbling in him. He flicked his tonfa and the chain swung, cutting down someone with the speed it was going before the chain shortened.

Reborn, a few feet away from him, roundhouse-kicked someone, throwing them back before he pulled another trigger at someone else. He could see through the corner of his eyes that Hibari was overpowering the crowd that decided to team up against him, could feel the shift in emotions in the man. He clicked off the empty magazine of his gun and swiftly snapped in a new one, kneecapping someone on their left leg. The pitiful man screamed, clutching onto his leg. Reborn had to give him his credit when he noticed that there was no way he could win against the two of them.

That no one can win against the Strongest Hitman in the World and Vongola's Strongest Guardian.

"P-please! M-my wife and kids! I-if you kill me, w-what would they do?!"

But still, stupid.

"That's overused." Reborn hummed, sauntering closer. He leaned on one leg, smirked as his dark eyes glinted. "Tell me something more interesting, and maybe I'll let you go, hm?" The man stuttered an affirmative hastily. "Great!" Reborn chirped cheerily. He tapped his chin as though he was contemplating. "Hmm, let see. Ah! Right!" He leaned down, looming.

"What's the drug that your boss decided to develop?"

The man hesitated for a moment. Reborn tutted and aimed at his right leg. "W-w-wait! I-I don't know!" He pulled the trigger as the man screamed, dropping onto the ground.

"P-p-please! I really don't know!" He shot at his torso, deliberately avoiding the lungs and heart. "Next will be your head if you don't tell the truth~" He sing-sang, shifting his aim to the head.

"E-Ecstasy!" The man blurted out. "I-it's a sort of ecstasy and aphrodisiac! I- I heard that whoever that takes it experience a sort of black out during the whole time yet still feel a high that felt like a dream! That's all I know! Honest!"

Reborn hummed. The man doesn't seemed to be lying. "T-there's information on the drug i-in the research room!"

"Oh?"

"Y-yeah! T-the research room is linked to boss's room." Reborn paused, reading the man, taking him off piece by piece in his head. The man was sweating profusely, but he wasn't lying. He had just spilled the Famiglia secret without any remorse. He smiled. "What's your name?"

"E-eh? Uhm- Giuseppe."

His smile stretched an inch. "Well, thank you for your information, Giuseppe. With this, I'll grant you the fastest way to die!"

"W-w-wait! You said you'd let me go if I tell you something!"

Reborn nodded. "Yep, I did. And you did told me something interesting. But," He drawled. "You just broke the Omerta. You would ended up being killed anyway. I'll do it for you instead. Consider this an honor."

He smirked and pulled the trigger with one last parting words, ignoring the loud protests. "Le mie condoglianze."

The bullet went through the head as it lolled back, lifeless. Reborn hummed and turned away, flicking the blood of his hand and gun. His eyes scanned the blood tainted room, fire burning down the curtains and some of the furniture. The fire was the least of Reborn's concern as his eyes locked on Hibari's bloodied figure.

He had already dealt with the rest of the enemies- no- victims, stomping on one's head until it reduced to nothing but bits and pieces of flesh and gore that clung onto his shoes. Instead of the pure glee of bloodlust he had earlier, it had shifted into thick annoyance and irritation, killing intent increased ten fold.

Reborn watched, let the younger man take everything out on the already dead body. He knew why he was like that after all. Recently, Hibari had been distant, far more distant that he usually was. Whenever he spotted Tsuna and Yamamoto together, he had this look on his face before he avoids them quietly. Whenever Reborn saw him looking at the couple, he would see the tension in the shoulders, the curl of his fist, the anger burning in those sliver eyes.

He knew what were those.

It was the sign of jealousy.

Hibari did a really good job at hiding them, but Reborn could tell.

Because he himself had that look whenever he saw how happy Tsuna was with the Rain before his attention was diverted.

He tilted his head slightly, face blank before he called out. "Oi, Hibari!" The skylark jerked once before stopping. He whirled around and locked eyes with the hitman, sliver-blue orbs burning in jealousy, in envy, in bitterness and in loneliness.

Reborn licked his lips at that.

He pointed up the stairs. "Let's go catch those people and grab the information."

Something flitted in Hibari's eyes before he moved. He wordlessly walked up to Reborn and they both climbed the stairs.

It was a one-sided slaughter fest. In an hour time, Reborn and Hibari had killed every single human being in the building, combing through until there was no one left but them. It was a bit fun, if Reborn had to say. To see and feel how feral and uncontrolled Hibari was. To share the excitement and adrenaline with Hibari. Reborn hadn't feel that thrill for a long time.

He loves it.

He doesn't forget though, that he still had to retrieve the information on the drugs. It was one of their main task other than, well, killing everyone. The information was needed to counter the drugs that had been sold and spread all over the country.

He stepped over the bodies and headed into the boss's room, followed closely by Hibari. Fiddling around and opening the secret door to the research room, they swiftly gathered the information and headed out. But before they stepped out of the building, Reborn pulled Hibari back and stole a kiss from him.

He managed to tangle his tongue with the other's once before he had to broke it off, licking off the blood from his lips where Hibari had bitten him.

"What do you think you are doing?" Hibari snarled.

"Kissing you." Reborn said nonchalantly.

Hibari glared at him. "Quit it." He tried to turn around again but Reborn held him back. "Wait."

"What do you want?"

Reborn looked at him and sighed. "I know that you like Yamamoto." Hibari swatted his hand away, eyes flashing. "Listen. I know you like him, but you and I both know that he isn't going to leave Tsuna. So give up.

"Give up, and let me hold you." Let me love you.

"... I thought you liked the small animal."

Reborn nodded, a wry smile on his face. "Well, as you had said, liked. He.. He and I are not meant to be. Not suitable." He shook his head. "But he doesn't matter. I still to like him, but not like that any longer. Not when you caught my eyes."

Hibari stared. "I'm willing to wait for you." Reborn continued. "I'm willing to wait until you'll take my hand, until you forget about Yamamoto."

"You know that that's impossible."

"It is not impossible."

Reborn took a step forward and grabbed Hibari's hand, squeezing it tightly. "I'll wait." For you are worth it.

For we're meant to be.

"For Primo's sake- must you guys kill all of them?!" Reborn took a sip at his espresso, twiddling his sideburn as he watched Tsuna groaning. "I should have known- I shouldn't have send the both of you together. What was I thinking- ouch!" The brunette pouted as he rubbed his forehead where Reborn had flicked.

"What was that for?"

"For ranting." Reborn poked the sore spot and rubbed harshly. "You of all people should know that they would ended up dead in the end when we send the evidences to Vindice. Might as well do it ourselves. It's more fun this way."

Tsuna huffed as Reborn grinned. "Not to mention, you're the one who told us to not hold back."

Tsuna's eyes darken slightly, his lips jutting out. "That's because they killed a few of ours with that stupid drug of theirs.."

Reborn smirked and leaned back. He looked smug, which made Tsuna sulk even more. The brunette sighed in exasperation. "... Well, good job. Thank you, Reborn."

The hitman said nothing and ruffled the soft, brown hair, eyes soft as Tsuna yelped.

"Hey- stop!"

The door slammed open. The two of them looked towards the door to see Hibari storming in. Tsuna blinked. "Oh, Hibari! Welcome back! How's-" Tsuna shrieked when the skylark grabbed the hitman's tie and tugged him down, crashing their lips together.

Reborn's hands immediately grabbed Hibari, a hand behind his head to pull him closer, deepening the kiss while another around his waist to keep him in place.

"W-wha- Do it outside!!" Tsuna yelled and they broke apart.

Hibari hissed while Reborn laughed at the brunette. The skylark huffed and tugged the man out, leaving the room.

Alright.

A/N= Hibari is absolutely the kind to do that-- yep-- uhum. Reborn is the same as well pppffftt--

Le mie condoglianze means my condolences in Italian. It's from google so I don't know if it's any accurate.

There's a stretch of time from the third and last part. They were given two week to deal with everything; they finished it the first week before Reborn and Hibari separated, the skylark having another set of minor mission. Reborn lingered around before heading back to Italy.

[I apologize from any grammar, spelling, etc. etc. mistakes]

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