#ging i’m blaming u for this

[nematoada]

i think i put myself in a hxh induced coma or smthn because I fell asleep at 6 pm last night and I just woke up at 9 am and the only thing I remember from my dreams was kurapika being the hot topic during a beer pong game

[cassyapper]

Apart from Jotaro and Kakyoin (unfortunately) what are your other favourite jojo ships? I’d love to know

OHHHH POST YOUVE OPENED A CAN OF FUCKING WORMS LET ME GO OFF

i have a disease that makes me invested in the joestars’ happiness to an absurd level so bc of that a lot of ships i enjoy involve,,,one joestar,,,but there r others i swear let me just start rantingi

jonaeriwagon is soooooo so so cute it involves the most wholesome and purehearted jojo characters and it makes me smile so wide. erina and jonathan r childhood sweethearts and erina helped jonathan back on his feet after he lost EVERYTHING in the first fight against dio at the mansion. jonathan and speedwagon are best FRIENDS OKAY!! SPEEDWAGON LITERALLY CHANGES HIS ENTIRE WALK OF LIFE BECAUSE OF JONATHAN AND THE KINDNESS HE SHOWED HIM. i know erina and speedwagon didn't interact a whole lot in part 1 but like they're BEST. FRIENDS. in part 2, so much so joseph thought something was going on between them. i bring this up bc then it’s proof that this ship is full of ppl who just care for each other so much. they just adore each other and love each other and I'm crying

caejoseq is my FAVVV OKAY they're so stupid and in love. i love love love love imagining caesar and suziq falling in love slowly when he’s first training as lisalisa’s student and like they never do anything about it cause they're both so shy (yes caesar is shy bc these feelings r more genuine romance rather than sexual, unlike his other flings) but it’s obvious enough they both understand to a degree the other knows they like them sjkd;dn cuties. but then JOSEPH BARGES IN with his stupid hamon-breathing mask and his stupid blue-green eyes and his stupid lax personality combined with the moments he takes thing seriously during which is works hard as fuck/smart as fuck. he just completely sweeps them off their feet they had no fuckin warning whatsoever. so after a bunch of messy and intense pining from the both of them they eventually sit down and are like okay. we should do smth about feelings actually. so they Do and it ends with the polycule and I'm (”: smiling so wide they loved each other do u understand

AVPOL!! DO NOT GET ME STARTED OKAY it’s the survivor’s guilt and cherishing and longing for me sis!!!!!! I'm just saying both have pasts (araki said avdol’s backstory was so sad he didn't wanna put it into sdc so that’s where I'm drawing this from) that leave them focused on things other than their direct happiness/their own futures but then they connect and even though they're so fucking different they are SOOO different they're still the same on this level and i think!!! that would be everything for them finally someone who understands...listen I'm ging to go insane do you hear me. avdol loves this stupid fucking Frenchman so much because said stupid fucking Frenchman just cares so much about everything. meanwhile polnareff is in love with this fuckin god of a man who’s patient and kind and funny and a skilled enough fighter it’s stated explicitly in canon “oh avdol’s the one we need to worry about most not jotaro” like fuck polnareff is ENAMOURED WITH HIM!! AND I DONT FUCKING BLAME HIM!! and just dude. when pol thinks avdol came back to life and he starts crying tears of joy and hugs him so tightly and avdol just laughs but hugs him back imfmfjfj help. help. help. help. help. POLNAREFF LITERALLY ASKS HIM OUT ON A DATE THIS IS FUCKIN!!! CANON!!! i cant do this stupid fuckign idiots i love them

JOSUYASU!!!!!! TWO GUYS BEIGN DUDES WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT??? like listen we have such a SLEW of wholesome moments between these two the opening to the tonio episode is literally just them going on a date OKUYASU WAS GONNA FEED JOSUKE AND JOSUKE DIDNT EVEN FUCKING QUESTION IT OKAY THAT’S KINDA GAY THAT HAS ROMANTIC FUCKING UNDERTONES!! and them fighting against shigechi idk man i just love their dynamic it’s such a pleasant bro relationship and i love them. but even beyond the wholesome moments when okuyasu fucking dies josuke loses his SHIT!!! DO YOU HEAR ME HE GOES FUCKIGN INSANE!!!!! HE’S SCREAMING AND CRYING AND BEGGING OKUYASU TO WAKE UP AT THE EXPENSE OF HIS LIFE FUCKIGN HAYATO HAD TO SHRIEK AT HIM TO MOVE HIS ASS OUT OF THE WAY OF KIRA’S BOMB LIKE!! listen the recklessness and furiousness of josuke’s tactics after okuyasu “”died”” haunts me. he didn't want to live in a world without him and meanwhile okuyaus LITERALLY TRIUMPHS OVER DEATH BECAUSE HE DOESNT WANT TO LEAVE JOSUKE’S SIDE HELP ME GIRL FJKF;NDJN FUCK. fuck. so yeah i lvoe them

fugionara... any combination of this ship makes me go nuts okay okay. the dynamics in the bucci gang will forever leave me in tatters but THE ONES BETWEEN THESE THREE IN PARTICULAR. FUCK ME UP. it’s the healing it’s the animosity it’s the regret it’s the trying to figure out your own mentally ill self while also the world ur in with these ppl u love so much and I'm going crazy okay okay okay. idk how to quite put my feelings for them in worlds i just have a lot of them and they are fuckin. overhwelming. just narancia for example meant EVERYTHING to fugo as evidence by purple haze feedback (literally every other paragraph is a flashback) and the only time giorno cries in the anime is when narancia dies. meanwhile fugo saved narancia’s life and giorno knew when to take narancia seriously as opposed to a joke. and then THE WHOLE DISCUSSION ABOUT GRIEF FUGO AND GIORNO HAVE IN PURPLE HAZE FEEDBACK? listen something about these three make me go insane and feral

foolymes like okay. okay. I'm shaking like a dog trying not to go overboard on this justification just listen to me. hermes and jolyne first find someone to trust in prison in each other. jolyne cares abt her enough that she first learns how to use stone free’s string-on-a-telephone ability bc she wanted to watch over hermes. hermes loves nd respects jolyne that after she wakes up from getting a stand shes like “hm. wonder where jolyne is” and goes to find her before all that bullshit happened just hey okay LISTEN TO ME!! and then they get foo they save her it’s just like fucking kakyoin they give her another chance and they show her what relationships are supposed to be like (fulfilling) they enjoy her company and make her laugh and she makes them laugh in return ohmy god EVERYTHING FOO FIGHTERS DID WAS FOR JOLYNE AND HERMES DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!!! the marilyn mansion debt collector arc. the kiss of love and revenge arc. foo fighter’s death. I'm going to eat rocks in an attempt to stop feeling oh my god JOLYNE DIDNT EVEN BELEIVE FOO FIGHTERS WAS DYING AND THEN SHE GOT HYSTERICAL LIKE “BUT WE CAN JUST REMAKE YOU RIGHT WE HAVE YOUR STAND DISC??” SHE DOESNT WANT HER TO GOOO HELP ME HELP ME. I'm in tatters these three girls loved each other so fucking much they just wanted each other safe and they DESERVED to be safe and happy together but araki is fucking evil

jotaweather I KNOW THIS IS A CRACK SHIP I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW DONT FUCKIGN LOOK AT ME JUST HEAR ME OUT. jotaro and weather r both of similar demeanor that is quiet soft-speaking intimidating strong big aura of sadness coming from them. both have powerful stands and both had real fucked up luck in the love department. i also hc both to be autistic so that’d be another similarity. i jus think them settling down together after everything went down in a stone ocean au would be very soft and sweet yknow? they wouldn't even necessarily start it off in a romantic sense but they just take the time to try and heal with each other and eventually it just kinda veers that way. yeah

gyjo for OBVIOUS reasons like are you serious? gyro changed johnny’s fucking lfie from the SECOND they first interact johnny begins to push himself and tries to reach further/go further. and in turn johnny shows gyro you cant always be a wet blanket you need to take a stand this both helps his resolve to save the kid AND helps him to take the measures necessary to get to his goal. like gyro would not have been able to find johnny in the “who shot johnny joestar?” arc if he hadn't gone through, say, the ring roadagain arc with johnny first. listen man their relationship is literally the catalyst for this whole part it’s the driving force i just. they love each other they love each other thank you goodnight I'm emo

yasugap is just so so so so sweet it makes me so happy,,like okay josuk8 literally has a daydream where all that happens is he gives yasuho some candy and she eats it and is like “aw josuke this is so good thanks!” and she smiles at him and that’s IT THAT’S THE DAYDREAM 😭 listen they just love each other so much and i am emo. they literally SAVED EACH OTHER OKAY LIKE yasuho pulls him from the dirt and like she mentioned during the flashback chapter with the hairpin and her dad, it was also the other way around....saving josuke also saved herself and just LISTEN TO ME. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. it’s a very sweet and healthy relationship and i hope to god araki makes it canon please sir ill bite you

anyway yeah these are the main main ones ? that i ship ship. like you'll get me excited if u mention them. anyway this post has gone on long enough so I'm gonna end it here by saying i really do have a thing where the relationship focuses on healing/helping one or both parties to save/improve themselves

[hypnotixstorm]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* to do list *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Key

Normal Text = Have NOT started working on the request

Bold and Pink Text = I am CURRENTLY working on the request

Once I have completed a request it will be REMOVED from this list

Can I get an imagine of Hiei from Yu Yu Hakusho? Maybe an AU hundreds of years ago where he ends up caring for a human woman and teaching her how to defend herself. If you don't like that one, anything you think of.

Character: Kanda from DGM NSFW Prompt: "Make me." Love youuuuuu 😘

How about a NSFW scenario of Kakashi coming home to his sweet little naughty civilian S/O? 😜 A bit of role play where they call him sensei while he's doing them on the kitchen table?

Thanks for the Soi Bean Post! This gonna be my last Soi Fon request. Sorry for being quite a Soi Queen freak. For my request can you Soi after shower decides to wear s/o clothes. S/O tries to take picture of her. Then she tells that she has falling in love with you. You have changed let me take care of you. You can be very very very sluff on this one. Thanks!

ok ok so i have a few requests 🥺🥺 so! first could you maybe do an “I missed you.” with Rukia? 🥺💗 just fluff for my baby girl aaaa

Ichigo kissing his s/o in the rain 😆😆😆 Headcanons or scenario is up to you! 💙

ANYTHING SHIKAMARU. Deadass anything

Hey! I was wondering if I could request some Rukia x fem!reader relationship headcannons? Only if you're able to! Tysm! 💖

I hope requests are open but I was wondering if you could do something with byakuya and his s/o being like a very intimidating couple but his s/o is actually very sweet to everyone?

Kakashi x reader and instead of team 7 its now y/n tryna see whats under the mask and eventually she just asks and he actually reveals it adfhsjjs

Can I please get rat dad Ging being seduced by a younger woman who refuses to take “no” for an answer until he finally gives her what she wants? NSFW please! 💖

ok so please don't feel pressured to write this birthday imagine 🥺 i know u have a lot of requests rn ah. but! if you're able to i really would love another toshiro one bc i'm a sucker for him 😭 maybe one where he's really overworking himself so the reader helps him relax and it just ends in cuddles 🥺💓 only if you're able to! ilysm 💓💖💓💖💓💘💓💘💓

ok i swear this is the last one i feel bad requesting sm 😭 but maybe a “Do you wanna, maybe, go out sometime?” with toshiro bc he really is best boy 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

OKAY SO ANOTHER ONE WITH SABURO WITH UHHHH GOING ON A FIRST DATE WITH HIS S/O ICIXHAJGSSHSSUSKSU he'll probs driving his van around with the music blasting out 👀👀

honestly i would kinda die if u wrote some renji smut 😳😳 literally in any situation, i'm just needy rn 😭

ok ok i'm here hehe. how about, the reader gets really injured during a battle and shiro's kinda blaming himself for it. kindaaa angst into a super fluffy ending if that's ok hhh 🥺

Hi 🥰 Can I get a headcanon for Kakashi with a really seductive s/o, like she likes to tease him in public and whispers dirty things in his ear and calls him daddy? Nsfw pls? 😊😁

“make me” and hisoka??? thank you

hehe this is for the 🦋🦋 event! congrats on 200 bb!! so, i saw attack on titan on your list and i'm experiencing a severe lack of my best boy marco 🥺🥺 if you don't write for him that's fine hehe, but if you do, could i please maybe get a lil scenario where marco helps the reader out with her training and then they accidentally confess their feelings and it's just rlly fluffy and cute? 🥺 i need marco being happy in my life rn sbdjdhdjr 💓💓

“If you keep biting your lip like that, I’m holding you accountable for my actions.” for Kakashi please! I love him 🤤

If your requests are still open, can i ask for some domestic kakashi fluff? Ty

Hi mommas❤️❤️ CAN I PWEASE request some Guren (seraph of the end) relationship headcanons ? Not nsfw but maybe a little steamy 🥺🥰 I LOVE UU -🍒

Hi Chloe 🥰 Can I have some spicy nsfw headcanons for Yami where his s/o is acting really bratty during sex and he puts her in her place? 😪😂😊

Kageyama wirh Oikawas sister reader? there just chillin Nd stuff and toru comes over and picks y/n up and they hug and kageyama is like “eXcuSe mE???” forgive my spelling im on mobile lmao

Hiii❤️❤️ Can I request an imagine where you live in a small town and work at a cafe and Bakugou is your cliche small town boyfriend? Or headcanons! The idea is so cute and I love your writing 😊

okay so uHHHHH you can just go for Mephisto sharing some food with his s/o owo;; take your time on it too because i know it's gonna be really great either way!

A reader insert saved by vampire! main YYH crew from a pack of werewolves

Since you said requests are open maybe.. suga subbing for you? Idk he's just always appeared like someone who would love to please you in anyway possible.

V A M P I R E LAVI!!! DO IT GIRL!! 👌👌♥️♥️♥️

Fake dating with Lavi!!!!! Need more of the DGM boyz!! 😂

can I get an itachi x reader fic where it's itachi's birthday and the reader decides to give him a special night (👀), wearing lingerie, lighting candles, etc. for him to come home to? I love your work (and you!!) sm btw 🥺💞 - nina!! (@kunoichihatake)

hello ✨💕 it’s me, ryn 😘 if it’s okay, can i request a nishinoya x female!reader? perhaps a first date at the boardwalk with like the rides and carnival stuff? then at the end of the date he kisses her and it turns out the karasuno squad was following them the whole night hehe?

Hi! Can I request a prompt of some soft Kakashi, maybe some cuddles, perhaps it gets a little heated... a lil' Nsfw never hurt nobody👀👅 Thank you so muuch!~😍❤️

If I had kakashi in front of me I would tell him “aren’t you tired of being the most handsome man here?”

Hi! I saw that requests were open for the Haikyuu!! boys so here I am! I was wondering if I could request a Tsukki x reader where Tsukki has a crush on the reader but doesn't know how to express his feelings other then throwing insults. it can be angsty or fluffy I just really love Tsukki as a tsundere lol. (also btw I LOVE your theme and blog aesthetic its very pretty!)

Hey wifey😚 so Ichigo has stolen my heartttt can I get the strawberry boy with an S/O who gets super shy with with physical contact? Tyy💗💗

Fake dating with Lavi!!!!! Need more of the DGM boyz!! 😂

NSFW Vampire Squall (FF8) for very obvious reasons because UUUUUUGH

Hello there miss, my name is kandaxxx. Nice to meet you since I have definitely never requested from you before and this is definitely my first time and i am definitely not taking advantage of your bomb writing skills to ask you to write a “Choke me, daddy.” for Seymour from FF (love you forever and always!!!!!!)

hey butterfly 🥺 can you please write a story where the reader and (any character) are fighting and it turns out it was just about something stupid? like chicken nuggets? thank you 🥺💗

Eek! DGM! I was wondering if you would do a request for a general Allen Walker relationship HC? I don’t see him on the character list, but I’m just curious *bows* Thankyou senpai!

Spin The Bottle with any of the DGM characters that you're comfortable writing????? (but like obviously when Kanda spins the bottle it has to land on the reader [me] because YOU KNOW WHY OK????????) ilysm!!! 😍

I’m thinking a smut scenario of some kind that uses the prompts “Perhaps I need to remind you of your place.” and “Let me show you what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules.” I feel like those are very Nozel Silva things to say. 😈 -bakubabes-hatake

Omfg HI mommy, Can i request really fluffy and soft itachi after he comes back from a mission? Non-massacre AU and you’re on the same team as sasuke lolol thirsty for them age gaps ❤️ thank youuuu ily -🍒

Can I get a fake dating with Kand--Roy Mustang (hahahaha) 👉👈🥺

Is this okay to ask for? Egor taking care of s/o who has period cramps... Ty!

can I get an itachi x reader fic where it's itachi's birthday and the reader decides to give him a special night (👀), wearing lingerie, lighting candles, etc. for him to come home to? I love your work (and you!!) sm btw 🥺💞 - nina!! (@kunoichihatake)

Hello! Can I please request some headcanons for Kiba with a S/O with a praise kink? And for Shikamaru with a S/O with a choking kink? Thank you so much.

Wow. Here is me putting in a request. Shocker, right?? 😂 I want some Greed, baby 😈 as for the prompt, it's not in your list, but could you maybe do something based off of "Oh my god. Did we just break the bed?" ???? 👉👈

It's a shame u only have one ling request, so could I request some Ling x Reader where they're both absolutely oblivious until Lan Fan or Ed or someone finally just tells them for them? Sorry if I didn't make any sense ❤️❤️

ok idk if you write threesomes but 😳😳 if you could write one with daichi and suga n maybe some dp, i'd probably die 🥺💓 only if you're comfortable with that tho ♡

Tyki flirting with his crush in his native language of Portuguese? I really love your work and please have some candy 🍬🍭🍫

hi butterfly! 🥰 i hope you're doing well! you already know what i'm going to ask you for — a request! i just feel really down in the dumps lately. can i request headcanons for an s/o that takes graduation pictures on their grandmother's 3 year death anniversary with kenma, nishinoya & kuroo? i hope you can do my request! you don't have to do it if you don't want to!

hehehe kuroo, tsukki and kageyama headcanons of their s/o sending them a nude while they at training and them making an excuse to get home and fUcK yOu SeNsELeSs - 🌊

Hello may I request itachi x reader. People learned the truth and he can finally return to his wife and children in the village 🥺 and they don’t have to be in secret anymore

holy shit,, i am starved for the squall content,,, if you don't mind, catching you wearing their clothes?

S/O walking in on kakashi masturbating? 👉👈 💕

[headstrongblake]

@wearycrown​ asked : all the texts 

 “✆” for a MORNING text : SINGLE MOM AU

[ SMS   »  clarke griffin 🎨 ] : hey, i know it’s early but atom’s parents took isabella overnight & i was thinking i could take u out for a little breakfast date if you weren’t busy?? [ SMS   »  clarke griffin 🎨 ] : i know this great diner [ SMS   »  clarke griffin 🎨 ] : i know it’s last minute so don’t feel obligated. [ SMS   »  clarke griffin 🎨 ] : or do, whichever gets you out with me

“✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT : WAR CORRESPONDENT

[ SMS   »  other half 🎨 ] : i don’t know what i’d do without you clarke. it’s like you’re this part of me that i can’t ever get rid of. not unless you wanted that. i think that’s what scares me the most, what if i mess us up clarke? you’ve been the love of my life my whole life but...i don’t deserve you & i’m still waiting for you to figure that out. [ SMS   »  other half 🎨 ] : thinking of you, see you for lunch?

“☎” for a RUSHED text : ADDICT AU

[ SMS   »  c griffin 🎨 ] : meet u there, got called to the deans

“⁇” for a DRUNK text : WAR CORRESPONDENT

[ SMS   »  don’t text 🎨 ] : the thing is i don’t think anythings ever ging to work with anyone else. ur it. you’ve alwayus been it for me. [ SMS   »  don’t text 🎨 ] : i fucked us up babe, i really ducked us up

“✿” for a SUGGESTIVE text : WAR CORRESPONDENT

[ SMS   »  other half 🎨 ] : so i ordered something off amazon and it was supposed to take a lot longer... but it came today. [ SMS   »  other half 🎨 ] : [ image of lingerie ] [ SMS   »  other half 🎨 ] : what are the chances you want to suddenly fall in and come back home to me????

“ø” for a LATE NIGHT text : ADDICT AU

[ SMS   »  c griffin 🎨 ] : i worry about you okay, you know that. i don’t care if you don’t think i do because i bailed but you know i do. where are you at tonight? [ SMS   »  c griffin 🎨 ] : i won’t come -- share your location? i’ll sleep better.

“✘” for a HATEFUL text : ADDICT AU

[ SMS   »  c griffin 🎨 ] : you know what nobody asked you to come with me. YOU followed me into this shit. i actually told you to stay fucking clear but no, you begged me. YOU did [ SMS   »  c griffin 🎨 ] : don’t ever blame your faults on me again, you created your own bed, fucking lie in it

“#” for a RANDOM text : SINGLE MOM AU

[ SMS   »  clarke griffin 🎨 ] : MOMMY SAYS YOUR BEAUTIFUL [ SMS   »  clarke griffin 🎨 ] : .... it seems isabella is at the age where she knows how to work my phone....

“@” for a SCARED text : ADDICT AU

[ SMS   »  c griffin 🎨 ] : did you see the news?? clarke i’m freaking out and i need u to get home okay?? leave the fucking party. [ SMS   »  c griffin 🎨 ] : .....i’m scared clarke. i can’t lose bellamy.

“&” for a LOVING text : WAR CORRESPONDENT 

[ SMS   »  other half 🎨 ] : i love you wife. [ SMS   »  other half 🎨 ] : i love saying that. i’ll never get used to it. i love you wifey & i love our family.

“%” for a CURIOUS text : SINGLE MOM AU

[ SMS   »  clarke griffin 🎨 ] : hey, flowers or chocolate? or wine? [ SMS   »  clarke griffin 🎨 ] : or what?? WHAT CAN I BRING TO WIN YOUR FAMILY OVER???

“ツ” for an EXCITED text : WAR CORRESPONDENT 

[ SMS   »  other half 🎨 ] : BABY!!!! BABE!!!! ANSWER MY FACETIME!!! WE GOT THE HOUSE BABY!!!

“$” for an ACCIDENTAL text : SINGLE MOM AU

[ SMS   »  clarke griffin 🎨 ] : how am i supposed to start that? hey, this is crazy, you’re my daughter’s art teacher, my life is super complicated and my ex is a crazy story but hey...i think you’re beautiful, go out with me?

“♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text : ADDICT AU

[ SMS   »  c griffin 🎨 ] : clarke i don’t care what you’re going through right now, i need you. your mom needs you. KANE fucking needs you. [ SMS   »  c griffin 🎨 ] : we don’t know what’s going to happen but we’re at the hospital clarke. please. it’s not looking good for kane and i can’t... babe i can’t lose another parent. you can’t.

[sibillascribbles08]

vegalocity

¶  tell us your salt Scribs

Man u know what I rly cannot like absolutely cannot stand u know what I hate?

Being ignored

It makes me fucking LIV I D. People be like would you rather have the power to fly or turn invisible like bitch give me the flying power I CAN ALREADY TURN INVISIBLE APPARENTLY SO WHO NEEDS THAT

Not that I will EV ER make a big deal about it because why should I you’re always the bad guy if you do, always. “Why don’t you speak up next time?” “It’s not our fault we didn’t notice.” So 9/10 I’ll just fucking leave u know I have better fucking use for my time than sitting in the fucking bg

And on top of that u get ur shit ass fuck paranoia trying to make a big deal out of it even during small times when you KNOW it’s not a big deal. Something important came up, of course that takes higher priority ur not foolish enough not to know that but it doesn’t stop the n a g ging it doesn’t stop the insistence that people could not care less.

Thought I was doing better with this for a while but once again I find myself in a hole where I adamantly refuse to talk about my work or my concepts except to like 3 people because in almost any other setting it’s fucking ignored and I’m too emotionally exhausted to keep trying just to deal with it over and over again

I cannot blame people for this I refuse to do that, because again most times it’s not even what they’re doing its my paranoia making shit difficult. I just don’t feel safe, even the small shit just makes me feel unsafe talking about it and I am literally not about to demand attention from people because I still stand by the idea that if people care enough it’ll show one way or another

I’ll just leave and take the time to keep working at my stuff until it’s worth paying attention to

[hxh-secretsanta-2017]

yo this is for @sanktpetyrthethird who asked for drug dealer au killugon

honestly thank you cause?? this is not at all a story i would have ever brainstormed let alone written if not for that prompt and ive fallen in love with it and it really really improved my writing workflow to. yknow. plot instead of writing <3000 word fluff pieces (raincheck for acts 2 and 3 my dude. this. kinda got away from me)

(also i started following u cause of this and ur sweetheart!! i was really happy to be writing this for such a cool and awesome person)

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!!!!! :D

also thank you to @driftingglass for beta reading a whack of this and helping me to realize i had to cut some prose described by a friend as “violet”

Prologue.

Golden eyes. An earnest smile. Freckles that mark a childhood spent in sunlight.

Killua shakes out his hands, hoping to flick away heart fluttering memories and dread that sinks through his gut like ink in water.

“I need you tomorrow,” says Illumi. His hands drag across the spines of the books, fingers knobby and nails sharp. He eyes the titles with the same vacant, disinterested scowl he has for everything.

Iron supports hold aloft the domed glass ceiling and cast sweeping shadows like eagle’s wings. Fading dusk sky snatches away scarce warmth from the city below.

Killua shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of one of the few couches clustered by the unlit fireplace. He walks past the table stacked high with stolen documents awaiting review by himself, his parents, or senior staff.

As Illumi browses through the children’s books—Killua suppresses a disgusted sneer—he slides a brass ladder along the wall of the circular library. Its wobbly wheels scream in the otherwise silent air. He swallows hard and hopes that he hasn’t awoken Kikyo.

Body sluggish and aching for sleep, he climbs up and finds what he’s looking for by the marks he left in the dust a few days prior. It’s an old farmer’s almanac with folklore stories scattered throughout, factual and fantastical in equal measure.

Killua hops to the floor and runs his thumb along the scarlet cover.

It’s an illustration of a humanoid goat standing over a river of blood. Her apron flies in a vicious wind, and the scissors she holds over her head are open around a crescent moon. She stares straight out at the viewer, defiant and oozing with fury.

Killua passes the book to Illumi and Illumi looks up at him, unblinking. For a moment, Killua thinks he’s going to make him pick out something else, but then he adds it to the small stack balanced in the crook of his elbow.

Illumi fades towards one of the arched entrances, which gapes wide like a jaw.

Killua bites his lip.

“Can I give them to her?”

Illumi pauses, a hand gracefully posed on the archway. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Was there any trouble tonight?”

“Will I see you again?”

Killua can hardly keep himself standing. He rubs the side of his temple with the heel of his palm, before forcing himself to open his eyes as wide as he can manage.

“I’m fine.”

Illumi tut-tuts, sickeningly similar to their mother. “Oh Kil, you must be falling ill. Go rest. I don’t want to lose my best spotter.”

Killua is going to vomit.

He hisses in a breath to argue, but something about the way Illumi raises an eyebrow stops him. For a moment he’s pulled into his brother’s dense orbit. A cold sweat runs down his neck.

Killua’s legs itch, screaming both to run and freeze like ice.

Illumi breaks the stare, and Killua gasps, his breathing heavy.

“Goodnight, Kil,” he says, before vanishing with steps so smooth he may as well have been a ghost.

Killua raises a hand to the base of his neck and rubs his skin in a fruitless attempt to self-soothe.

Illumi is far from good company, but he leaves a vacuum in his wake.

Killua does not enjoy solitude. Loneliness, he has learned to live with; solitude, he abhors.

The library is gray and old. It’s a room that hasn’t seen proper use in years, a forgotten corner of the Zoldyck estate with mildew air that itches Killua’s nose and tastes like dust on his tongue. The books are no more than lifeless stacks of paper, ripped apart from the one who loved—loves—them most. The reading chair in the corner, undisturbed even by the housekeepers, calls out for company.

“Will I see you again?”

Killua grabs the hair at his temples and tries not to scream. For a moment, grief compresses him so hard he’s knocked to his knees.

There are translucent hands wrapped around his arms, grabbing at his neck, twisting the flesh of his thighs. His chest bubbles with panic that wants to spill over into sobs. A reckless desire he’s kept in check for years torrents through his heart, and he wants nothing more than to give in and let it ruin him.

Killua has survived through routine and a lace veil of iron between himself and the world beyond his fingertips, but now the walls are crashing down around him.

A thousand deaths on his hands, and he is going to crack for just one person.

There’s a chance, a risk, so stupidly foolish he hates himself for even considering the possibility.

Killua is a professional murderer. He has the heart of a killer, and the drying blood under his fingertips to prove it. He has never shown mercy, and tonight has yet to become an exception. His record is flawless, and his legacy, should he choose to embrace it, will be unparalleled.

Life stretches out before him, every cranny of it predetermined, and he has learned to accept that, to swallow it, for the sake of his sister.

It’s been months since he was allowed to see her, to rest her head in his lap and answer her questions about the outside. Even the polish on his toes has chipped away.

What do they have left to lose? Pain does not scare him, and they dare not touch her.

***

There are pinup posters on the walls of Milluki’s room, and a strip of lights wrapped around the ceiling that flash green and purple. Monitors are mounted to the walls, and boxes of cables in tangled knots are stored under the desk.

Milluki doesn’t even look up when Killua closes the door.

“What do you want?” he asks, tapping his finger on the mouse. A loading bar ticks slowly on one screen, and a jumble of code Killua has never cared to understand lights up another. Milluki continues working, used to more hysterical interrupters than Killua.

What does he want? Killua pauses for a moment, and then he almost laughs, because any answer even close to honest is surreal.

“Can you do me a favour?”

Milluki chokes at that, before spinning his chair around. There’s a glowing smile on his face, though he’s trying to hide it and failing poorly. A flash of irritation burns on Killua’s cheeks.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

Killua grinds his teeth and swallows his pride. “I need a favour.”

Milluki claps his hands together and rocks back in his chair. His eyes sparkle with delight. “Anything for my most darling little brother.”

“Shut up,” says Killua, his nose wrinkling.

Milluki’s enthusiasm is undeterred. “What do you need?”

Killua plunges over the point of no return before he can convince himself of reason. Hesitation, his grandfather always said, is the antidote to good fortune. “I need you to leak the outgoing messages from Zenji’s phone over the past two weeks. It can’t be tied back to us, and no one can find out about it.”

Milluki nods happily, and he’s already closed out one screen for another when he stills. “Wait—does anyone know about this?”

Killua shakes his head, frustrated and impatient. Kikyo could wake at any moment, Silva should be home soon, and Illumi has a knack for appearing when he is least wanted. Which is always.

Milluki sobers and worries his lip with his teeth. “I mean, yeah, I can do it, but…” His eyes slide up to the monitors and then down to Killua’s feet. “It isn’t a good idea.”

“I’ll owe you. Seriously.” Killua watches the door, his palms sweaty and his mouth dry.

Milluki sneers at that. “Obviously, idiot. But if they find out—”

“They won’t. You’re good at what you do.”

Milluki rubs the back of his neck, unconvinced. Killua can’t blame him, but he needs Milluki to help him.

Anxiety rises in his chest and he has to slide his hands into his pockets to keep from running them through his hair.

“Milluki, please.”

Milluki’s eyes shoot up to his. Killua doesn’t know what does it, but something about his voice, or maybe his expression, makes Milluki bite his cheek and shake his head.

He licks his lips, and then huffs a laugh. “Tell you what, Kil,” he says, turning back to his keyboard. “It’ll be one hell of a favour.”

Chapter 1.

Meteor City is a jagged mountain of metal and glass. It imposes over the landscape, cast in silhouette by the setting sun. A hazy cloud of pollution hangs over it like flies on an open wound.

Gon walks towards it along the edge of a dusty road, alone among a thousand others making the journey. Trucks pass by, forming an unbroken caravan from the blurry tree line behind him to a field of canvas tents and sheet metal buildings. People hang from the sides and produce jostles under tarps. A great big billowing cloud of dust forces Gon to wrap his bandana around his mouth and nose.

He stops when he reaches the edge of the shadow cast over the desert scrub. A woman with a weathered face and bandaged hands slows beside him, and the two of them look up, silently.

Somewhere in the staggeringly enormous mass, he’s going to find Ging.

The woman moves on first. It takes Gon a few more minutes, and by the time he starts on again, the shadow had crept to his shins.

The eastern market is the major entry point for the city, but Gon isn’t interested in squeezing his way through the crowd. He cuts off onto a thin path, with dry grass growing high down the center.

The buildings, jutting like crowded teeth, are packed together so tightly that not even a starving alley cat could squeeze its way through. More are under construction. Workers buzz about the scaffolding, and huge machines Gon has only ever seen in an encyclopedia gifted by Abe dig up the ground.

There are open balconies on every story. People lounge in them, wearing fancy clothes and airs.

“Welcome home, sunshine!” shouts a woman, hanging off the arm of a clearly intoxicated man with a hideous mustache.

Gon waves. “I’m just passing through.”

She snorts, covering her mouth with a ring-bejeweled hand. “Sure, of course. Just passing through.”

Gon’s breath hitches and he wants to ask what she means by that, but the two of them giggle off into the room beyond.

He waits to see if they’ll return, and when they don’t, he draws closer.

Gon approaches the building like it’s a frightening animal tensing to bolt.

He reaches out and touches the wall. The cold concrete is unyielding against the warmth of his palm.

Gon walks along the edge of the city as dusk falls around him.

The workers continue clanging, sparks bright and flying in the fading light. Gon is careful not to step underneath the swaying cranes, or cut across through dug out pits.

Eventually, he finds a door propped open with a rock. Workers stroll in and out, chatting to each other in a language Gon doesn’t understand. None of them pay him any mind as he slips inside.

The air is rot and neglect and grease. He slams a hand over his mouth and doubles over in the hallway, gagging. His eyes water, and his lungs burn as he forces himself to breathe.

A man walking out snickers down at him, and Gon’s nose wrinkles. He straightens himself intentionally, pulling the bandana back up over his nose.

Gon swipes a tear out of his eyes. The corridor stretches on, long and punctuated with bursts of light where caged fluorescents flicker. All he can see between the pockets is darkness shifting like falling sand.

A fly buzzes in the nearest light, banging itself against the walls of its confinement.

Gon swallows hard.

Just passing through.

***

Gon sits on scaffolding made of plywood and cheap metal, his feet dangling over oblivion. The bridge connects two different buildings. The bustling neon party scene on one side fades into the almost idyllic business row on the other, where plants hang on the walls and shoes squeak across vinyl flooring.

Gon takes another bite of his sandwich and clicks his heels together, watching people stream across the dizzying sprawl of other connectors below.

When he was young, Mito got him an ant farm. Sometimes it spilled sand all over his windowsill, but he still loved it. Gon could watch the workers dig for hours. The city is the same; something about it is mesmerizing.

He’s been meandering for a day and a half. Whale Island, for all its beauty, was plagued by familiarity. Gon grew up around the same four hundred faces and a bitterly frigid line to his exploration quite literally in the sand. Meteor City is incomparably dense with wonders.

He found a shop that sold glass butterfly charms in every colour of the rainbow and watched the artist make one.

It dangles around his neck, now. A luxury he can’t afford, but one he couldn’t say no to, either.

He passed by a funeral procession marching slowly through the street, percussion instruments made of wood and beads clacking. The woman leading them wore a bone white tunic and red shoes.

He looked at park from an observation window, unable to afford the fee to enter. It had a high ceiling and ivy climbing the walls. Gigantic lights fed the lawn, and a handful of couples were clustered on benches under carefully pruned apple trees.

Gon finishes his lunch and shrugs on his backpack, careful not to let it fall.

The next market he passes through has a ceiling painted to look like a midday sky. Dragons swirl through thick cumulus clouds and swoop down the walls. The stalls are open and cascade throughout the entire floor. Support columns are painted green and plastered with posters. Most of them are written in a language he doesn’t recognize.

He skirts around an open vat of oil, manned by an old woman with bags under her eyes and whiskers at the corners of her mouth. She dips meat down in strips, and they sizzle on the surface. A mother with a toddler in tow buys a bag, and pays by tapping the back of her phone to a metal plate drilled into the table.

Gon is pushed onwards by the swelling crowd.

The Hunter Association, when he finally finds it, is marked by the logo on a handleless door.

Gon hops onto the bridge to it. Both above and below, he can only spot three other entrances to the building.

A voice crackles from a speaker.

“Name?”

Gon tugs the collar of his shirt. “Gon. Kite sent me. He said to tell you ‘strawberry blackwater’ and to apologize for using an old pass code.”

“I can’t let you in with an old pass code.”

“He said I should mention I’m Ging’s son.”

There’s a long silence.

The speaker crackles, and Gon can make out indistinct words spoken too far away to be picked up clearly.

“Fine.”

The door slides open with a chime.

There’s no one on the other side. Gon pokes down the hallway, expecting to be interrupted once again by whoever was watching the door, but he’s only met by dead air.

All the hallways are painted the same grating shade of gray, and every door he tries to open is locked and beeps at him angrily. He’s steered like cattle through the building by short stairwells and dead ends until he stumbles upon a lobby.

The room is large, white, and brightly lit. There are a few people talking in clusters of two or three. Gon doesn’t recognize any of them. None of them smile when they look his way.

He fists the hem of his sleeves, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and his knuckles. There isn’t a line at the front desk.

“I’m looking for Ging Freecss.”

The woman behind the high counter snorts. “I’m sorry,” she deadpans, flipping the page of her magazine.

Gon pouts. “I want to see him. Do you know where he is?”

“Does anyone?”

Gon hums, considering the question. “He probably does.”

A ghost of a smile graces her face. She looks up and gives a snide scowl. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

Gon isn’t sure what to say, so he says nothing. She goes back to reading, though he can tell by the way her eyes aren’t moving that she’s watching him peripherally. Gon bites his lip and glances over his shoulder.

Apparently accepting that he isn’t going to leave, she sighs and drops the magazine down. This time, her smile is tight and annoyed. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Ging.”

***

There was a long retired sailor on Whale Island, so old that even Abe could only shrug when asked his name. He lived alone in the hills, where yellow wildflowers spilled across the forest floor like honey, and came into town when he needed to replace a failing tool or stock up on food. He had eyebrows like scraggly wire and shuffled, though he didn’t use a cane.

One lazy summer afternoon, gnats buzzing in the air, Gon stumbled upon him plucking weeds in his back garden. Compelled by nothing but curiosity, Gon pushed up his sleeves and helped. They spent a few hours in silent companionship, and at the end of it Gon was invited into the well-maintained kitchen to share a blackberry pie. Gon breathed on a spoon and managed to stick it to his cheek; the old sailor guffawed, his nose wrinkled.

A couple of years after that, Gon found his body in the woods.

At first, it looked as though he was sleeping against one of the apple trees, but the smell, the flies, and the stillness of his chest told Gon otherwise.

Bisky reminds Gon of him.

It’s her eyes that do it; soulful and heavy, despite a body that doesn’t look a day over sixteen. Even slouched, with elbows on her knees, her presence fills the air.

The lounge is chaotic. Flashing lights cut through smoke. Music blasts, and partygoers holler. Gon slips through the crowd, offering muttered apologies as he squeezes between dancers.

Wide support columns curate his view. They cut up the lounge like a warren, giving him only snippets of her form as he makes his way over. Gon ducks under an arch and jogs down the half-flight of stairs.

He slides into the seat across from her. She jolts from whatever she was thinking about.

“Bisky?”

“Gon?”

For a moment, they float in their own bubble, separate from the rest of the world.

She leans towards him, eyes wide.

They’re interrupted by a young man tripping on his own shoes. He catches himself on Gon’s shoulder and nearly tumbles into his lap. Gon helps him back to his feet, insisting that it’s not a bother as the man blushes fiercely. He scampers off.

The conflicted swirl in Bisky’s expression is gone when he sits back down.

“You’re so much like him,” she says.

Gon’s chest swells with shy pride.

***

His throat is warm and fuzzy, and his senses are enjoyably dulled. His inhibition, thin at the best of times, has been shredded like wet paper.

Bisky is either a fantastic influence or a terrible one.

She hollers and Gon grunts, his elbow straining, sweat burning down his forehead. The woman across from him narrows her eyes and pushes harder against his palm. Gon’s muscles are clenched so tightly he can hardly breathe.

The back of his hand slams into the table. There’s a roar, and people in the crowd push him by his shoulders as he catches his breath. The woman offers him a handshake and a roguish smile as a conciliatory participation prize.

“My turn, my turn,” insists Bisky, sliding into the seat after him.

The woman, graying at her temples, quirks her lips into a smirk. She stands to whispers something in Bisky’s ear, and Bisky laughs.

Gon is knocked back by the swell of the excited onlookers; he lets himself drift, and while he doesn’t see it, he sure as hell hears it when Bisky pulls off a victory.

They sit beside each other on a quiet step. Bisky scribbles out something on the back of a napkin and shoves it into his hand.

“He’s a lightweight too,” she says.

Gon groans. “‘M fine,” he lies.

Bisky can’t hide the chuckle that bounces her shoulders. “Of course you are.” She claps her hands together. “Right. Let’s go get you settled, young man.”

The true face of the headquarters is nothing like the monotony from earlier.

Every hallway is decorated in a different style. One is lined from floor to ceiling with wooden masks, whose eyes seem to follow them. Another is snow white, with the silhouettes of deer somehow moving across the wall.

Bisky has to drag him along by the wrist; Gon keeps wandering off to gander.

Her apartment is luxurious. The ceilings are high, and from them hang ornate chandeliers. The carpet is thick between his toes, and the paint on the walls looks new. He can only stay for the night, she says, because she’s leaving in the morning and the place will be turned over to someone else.

Gon curls up on the couch and she brings him a glass of water, a pillow, and a fond ruffle of his hair.

The night wasn’t what he was hoping for. He’s disappointed he didn’t get to meet Ging, even if he had a fun time. All Bisky knows is that he’s off on some special assignment and planning to come back soon. It’s enough for Gon, though.

He’s waited his whole life. He can wait a little longer.

Chapter 2.

Gon stops outside the restaurant and triple checks the napkin. He’s supposed to meet with the friend of a friend of a friend.

Bisky’s words swam over his pounding head during breakfast. He isn’t sure whether he’s meeting with a thirty-something martial arts instructor or a guy his age with a buzz cut. Either way, he isn’t looking forward to it.

The other key detail that he missed was what job he was applying for, exactly.

He pokes his head inside. The restaurant is empty; not one of the three round chairs has a guest, and there’s no one behind the counter.

The walls are yellow stucco and the splashboard behind the workspace is functional black diamond plate. There’s a chandelier with tacky plastic jewels that reflect spots of light onto the walls and ceiling. The melamine tables are worn and chipped, and the chairs have awkwardly low backs.

It is, Gon thinks, the least welcoming restaurant he has ever had the misfortune of visiting.

There’s a bang in the back room and Gon jumps. The door swings open. A man with a willowy build and unruly blonde hair stalks up to the counter, tying his striped apron behind his back.

“Can I help you,” he sighs venomously, as though he would rather swallow spiders than even consider doing so.

“Bisky sent me,” says Gon.

The man’s nose wrinkles with disgust and he rolls his eyes. “Great.”

Gon rubs his hand along the back of his head and passes over her note. The man holds the napkin out at arms length before pulling glasses from his pocket. He mouths the words as he reads them, and Gon taps his fingers on the empty glass display case as he waits for him to finish.

“Bisky didn’t tell me what KP stood for but—”

“Kurapika. Me. My name.”

“Oh.”

Kurapika sets the paper down and pulls his glasses back like a headband. His hair is tucked, revealing dazzling ruby red earrings.

“Who are you.”

“Gon Freecss. I came here looking for my dad, but—”

“Gon, I want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, that I do not care. What do you know about running?”

“Um, I’m fast, I think? I’ve never really raced anyone though, so—”

“Okay.” Kurapika chuckles a little, his eyes sliding closed and his smile genuine for the first time. Gon squirms, certain that he’s stepped over one of those invisible lines that everyone else can see. “Go tell Bisky not to waste my time.”

Gon’s heart plummets. “I’m a fast learner.”

Kurapika stares at him unflinchingly.

“Also Bisky just left this morning, so I can’t do that.”

There’s a beat of awkward silence. Kurapika stares through him, his eyes glassy and his mouth pressed flat, before untying his apron and hanging it up on a hook beside the fridge.

“You’re from outside the city.”

Gon tilts his head, wondering how Kurapika could tell.

“You’re never going to know it as well as someone who’s grown up here.”

“I’m good at—”

Kurapika holds up a finger, turning on his heels. His smile curls sharper. Kurapika shapes his words carefully, like Gon is a rabbit he’s leading into a snare. “How long did it take you to get to the Hunter’s Association headquarters?”

Gon winces. “A couple days.”

Kurapika holds out his relaxed hands, palms flat. “That’s only a seventeen minute trip from here if you know the way, Gon.”

Gon gasps. The pieces click into place, and he relishes in the rush of having figured out the test.

“No it isn’t.”

Kurapika bites his tongue. “Yes, it is.”

“It only took me twelve.”

Kurapika freezes. His eyes open wide, but he recovers quickly into a slightly less confident scowl. “You said it took you days, Gon.”

Gon nods avidly. “Yeah, the first time. Then when I came back it was only twenty minutes because I knew to use the tunnels way below everything. And then I was bored because the restaurant was closed for the night, so I went back and forth a few times.”

“And you shaved it down to twelve minutes?”

Gon beams. “Yup! It only really works one way, though. There’s this place where the boards are really close between the buildings and you can hop down and it saves you from having to do”—Gon demonstrates with his hands—“the hook thing.”

“Show me.”

***

Kurapika stands with him on the top board and shakes his head slowly. Gon can’t wipe the smile off his face. He points at the grated metal, only seven feet below.

“It’s—”

“Twelve minutes. It’s actually twelve minutes.” Kurapika licks his lips and puts his hands on his hips. He stares at the path below like he doesn’t believe it.

Maybe it wasn’t a test. Either way, Gon’s pretty sure he passed.

With practiced grace, Kurapika holds out a hand. Gon shakes it firmly. Kurapika’s teeth grind and he pulls away, clenching and unclenching his fingers.

Gon rocks back and forth from his toes to his heels. “I said I was a fast learner, didn’t I?”

“You did, you did, you absolutely did,” says Kurapika, his voice dazed. “I take it back. No guarantees, but I can try to find you something.”

Gon hollers at the victory. Someone far above shouts down at him to be quiet. Gon apologizes.

“So what now?” he asks.

For the first time, Kurapika’s smile is softened by fondness. “Try to learn the area around the restaurant as best you can. Do you have a phone?”

Gon passes it over and Kurapika presses a few buttons before tapping their backs together.

“I’ll call when I know one way or another.” He stills and rubs his thumb over his lips. “Do you have a place to stay?”

***

“It’s temporary.”

Gon leans against the wall and bites his lip. It’s the first true residential area he’s visited. Kurapika had to tap his phone on a screen to slide open the front gate.

The hallway has tiled vinyl flooring, and the mounted lights are soft. The main corridor branches off like a fractal, what must have once been a wide open space subdivided into a maze of small apartments. It’s nicer than most of the places Gon has been so far, which is to say that there are no suspiciously dark stains on bare concrete.

Across the narrow hallway the door to apartment forty-five opens. A boy with short black hair, not much younger than Gon himself, steps out, carrying a handful of empty bags.

“Like hell it’ll be temporary, Kurapika.”

The boy’s eyes widen and Gon mirrors the look.

“Just a few days. He doesn’t have anywhere—”

“Why can’t you take him in?”

With a polite wave the boy runs off down the hallway, favoring his right leg.

“Because my place is—”

There’s a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Fine.”

Kurapika leans out, a smug smile lighting up his face. “Come on in.”

The apartment is a long, narrow room. There’s a kitchen at the very back with mismatched stools. Closer, the walls are lined with cubbies full of plastic totes. There’s a low circular table between them, and one of the boxes is open on the ground beside it, folders spread out chaotically.

Next there’s an unmade bed that juts out from the wall, right beside the door to what Gon presumes is the washroom. Across from the bed is a couch, sandwiched on either side by a bookshelf and a dresser.

The man beside Kurapika is, somehow, exactly what Gon would have expected if he had only seen the room.

He’s tall but slouches, his glasses seem comically useless, and the twist of his lips is crass. His hair is dented on the side from bed head, and his button-up shirt is half untucked.

“I’m Gon, nice to meet you.” He holds out his hand with a beaming smile.

The man looks up at the ceiling in a silent prayer for patience before accepting the handshake. “Leorio.”

Gon sets his backpack down and clasps his hands behind his back. Kurapika wrings his wrists. Leorio rubs his eyes. The silence is awkward, and Gon jumps to break it.

“What are those papers?” he asks.

Leorio glances over at the table. “Records.”

“Oh. For what?”

“I’m a doctor.”

“Why?”

Leorio inhales through his nose then exhales through his mouth. His stare turns to Kurapika, who has conveniently fled to the kitchen.

Dinner is made in near silence. Gon chops the vegetables put in front of him while Kurapika and Leorio bicker in low tones over the pot on the stove. He wonders why they’re friends if they spend so much time arguing, but maybe that’s what friends are supposed to be like. Gon isn’t exactly an expert; there was only one other kid on Whale Island, and she moved away years ago for high school.

They’re eating soup, lined up on the counter stools, when Gon tries again.

“So why did you want to be a doctor?”

Leorio drops his spoon and scowls at Kurapika. “Was he being an ass earlier, or…?”

“I don’t know,” says Kurapika, covering his full mouth with a hand.

“What are you talking about?” asks Gon.

The two of them look up at him, and then to each other. Kurapika shrugs. Leorio sighs, and rubs a fleck of broth off his cheek.

“A long time ago a friend of mine got sick, but healthcare in Meteor City is expensive and shoddy, so, y’know.” Leorio twirls his hand, watch clinking. “I wanted to help.”

“Did he die?” asks Gon.

Kurapika sucks in a breath. “G—”

“Yeah,” says Leorio.

Gon bites his cheek.

He swirls his spoon in his soup, and a carrot bubbles up from the bottom. He tries to imagine what that would feel like—losing Abe was hard enough, and he’d been able to find comfort in her long life well lived. Gon’s chest unravels at the thought of losing a friend.

“I’m sorry.”

Leorio looks down. Kurapika rests a hand on his arm.

“Thank you, Gon,” says Kurapika. “Now finish your soup.”

Gon cleans the plates while Leorio digs out extra bedding from the dresser. Kurapika has left, something about needing to sleep before his next shift started.

“You’re getting the couch ‘cause I’m too tall for it,” says Leorio, trying in vain to get fitted sheets to work on couch cushions.

“Okay.”

Gon lies with his back to the room. Leorio snores, like Mito does.

Gon sleeps easy.

***

Gon flips over the work phone. It’s sturdier than his own, and designed to snap closed. He clicks it open and shut as Kurapika explains the process to him.

Again.

“Deliver the package, tap the back of your phone to theirs, if they’re the right person it’ll tell you, and if they aren’t, I’ll get an alert. Do you have any questions?”

“Nope.” Gon reaches for the cardboard box, not much larger than a slice of bread, and Kurapika slides it down the counter, out of his reach.

“I can be there in five, six if you need me armed.”

“It’ll be fine,” says Gon, stretching on his tiptoes to grab the package. He flies out before Kurapika can launch into another lecture. Lectures, Gon has discovered in the two weeks since meeting him, are something Kurapika is fond of.

He weaves through the buildings, secure in his bearings, slowly ascending staircase by staircase. Waiting for Dalzollene’s approval was boring, but it did give him time to familiarize himself with his surroundings.

The meeting itself is mundane. There’s a woman waiting right where expected, and when they click their phones together, they both receive a cheery green check mark.

He passes the box, she slips off into the crowd, and he returns back to Kurapika, where the next delivery is waiting.

Running, Gon discovers, is something he enjoys a lot.

It takes him a few days to conclude what, exactly, he’s carrying, but once he does it hardly bothers him. Who cares what other people want to do if it means Gon is getting paid to fly through the city?

There are three of them working out of the restaurant. He’s a runner, as is Zushi, a barrel-chested boy with stony expressions but a kind heart. Kurapika is their manager, and he reports to “the brass”, as Leorio calls them. Gon isn’t sure what “the brass” has to do with him, so he keeps to running.

There are a few regulars. The woman he met his first trip was one, as are twin boys down in the factories with equally devious grins and clothes that seem intentionally picked to set them apart. There’s a gangly teenager who always meets him behind a heart-pounding night club, and a woman who insists on double checking their tap every time.

Gon hears a new language every day, sees a new pastry behind shop windows. He meets people he never could have imagined, and every night his dreams are fed by pushed horizons. It’s like he’s twelve again; his heart soars with anticipation of adventures to come.

***

“Whale Island?”

Gon nods, slurping from his bowl of noodles. The woman across from him with a sleeve of tattoos and an impractically big septum piercing smiles warmly. She leans back in her creaky chair.

“I passed through there a summer, way back when.”

Gon bites back a pang of homesickness. “Yeah?”

She clasps her hands behind her head and smiles. “Just for a night. Beautiful place. Miss the sky.”

Gon does, too. He’ll return someday, though.

He calls Mito in the evening, and they talk for hours.

The mail system is unreliable, Kurapika says, but Gon still sends her the glass butterfly. It made him happy. He hopes it makes her happy, too.

***

Leorio, despite his big talk, lets Gon stay.

After a few months, Gon is grunting along with him and Kurapika as they maneuver a second bed into the apartment. There’s barely room to squeeze it in against the wall, and only about a foot is left between it and Leorio’s, but it’ll do.

***

When Gon runs into trouble, he’s unprepared. He breathes through his mouth and grips the edge of the cushioned table as Leorio’s fingers brush over his nose. He swallows blood, and the slick, thick feeling of it travelling down his throat almost makes him gag. Leorio sets it, and Gon can’t help but cry out. Kurapika winces, hovering over Leorio’s shoulder.

“What happened?” he asks, eyes stormy.

“I got into a fight,” says Gon. Leorio’s mouth quivers as he fights back a snicker.

Kurapika sighs and rubs his forehead with his index finger and thumb. “Yes, but what happened.”

Gon shrugs. “I was just walking.”

Call it a fight is honestly an overstatement; more accurately, Gon got his lights punched out and woke up with his face against the ground.

Kurapika insists he learn to defend himself, after that.

***

Firearms are rare in the city. The Ten Dons ban them outside of their own use; with the thin walls and shabby floors, it’s too dangerous to risk lackadaisical use, so confrontations come down to martial ability.

Gon coughs and lets his head loll back onto the springy wooden floor. His instructor—an old student of Bisky’s—pads closer.

“You’re completely uncoordinated,” says Wing.

“I’ve never done this before,” says Gon, rolling onto his hands and knees before bouncing to his feet.

“That much I could tell.”

Gon sputters a laugh and rubs the back of his head. Wing crosses his arms.

His teacher is coiled muscle, veiled by unassuming, baggy clothes. The studio is an extension of himself, with its wonky fans and chipped mirrors. Overhead, the neighbors shout each other down.

Gon takes a deep breath, wincing when his ribs ache, and resets into the stance Wing showed him. They move slowly; Wing explains every step as he’s doing it, and Gon occasionally interrupts to ask for clarification.

Two hours pass in the blink of an eye.

Gon ties his laces as Wing talks him through the studio’s schedule.

He learns, slowly, about the people he’s working for. Some of it is from Kurapika, but Kurapika is stingy, dispensing information in palatable drips. Most of it, he gathers from the people he meets.

The Nostrades are just one of the many families tied to Ritz Clan, which is just one of ten clans that operate quasi-governments throughout the city. They control a pocket on the border of the Ritz’s territory, and are infamous for the daughter’s hobby of collecting human body parts. A grim fascination, Gon thinks.

They are also, he learns, infuriatingly difficult to get the drop on. They smell weakness like bloodhounds, and many suspect Light Nostrade is trying to worm his way into the Ritz’s inner circle. How, exactly, no one can tell him. Smoke chokes out the sun, but no one can find the fire.

When Gon isn’t working, he’s exploring.

He charts his way through the ground level, where he finds the crematoriums, water treatment plants, and livestock pens. It’s dingy. The walls are caked in grime, and he finds more than a handful of bodies rotting in the stagnant water between the buildings. But it does provide the most direct routes he can find. Usually, it isn’t worth it to climb down and back up the stairs, but he notes the potential.

It’s normal for him, now, to go weeks without seeing the sun. His eyes burn when he does climb up to the roofs. He can’t tell if it’s because of the light or the pollution. Probably both.

His martial ability improves through hours of practice with Wing and hours more alone with Zushi. Zushi is an enthusiastic teacher, thrilled whenever Gon asks him to stay a little longer.

Sometimes his lessons are less like lessons, though, and more like excuses to show how good he is at trapping Gon in a headlock.

Kurapika begins splitting the risky jobs between them more evenly. Gon learns how to slide unnoticed through crowds, treating the markets and echoing apartment complexes like the forest.

Bisky does not return. Ging does not return. Kite does not return.

Gon keeps waiting.

Baise, one of the Neon Nostrade’s bodyguards, takes two weeks off to visit family. Kurapika suggests Gon fill in, and in a burst of generous optimism, Dalzollene lets him.

Standing outside a locked door for hours or shuffling awkwardly through crowds isn’t as much fun as running. It’s exhausting to have to assume the worst of everyone. Neon likes him, though, so Gon ends up spending more and more time in her entourage.

One afternoon, he has two hours to kill before the next run. He sits in the restaurant, flipping through a newspaper in a language he can’t read, frowning at the pictures. Zushi walks in and greets Kurapika formally. Kurapika grunts from his stool behind the counter, but his eyes stay glued to his phone.

“Hey, Gon.”

Zushi stands with his back straight and his mouth schooled into a professional scowl.

“Howdy,” says Gon, smiling up at him.

“Don’t even fucking start,” says Kurapika.

“Hello,” says Gon. He folds away the newspaper and drops it on the table. Zushi is robotic as he pulls out a chair and sits down.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out. With me.”

“Sure.” Gon reaches for his jacket. “Hey Kurapika, we’re—”

Zushi waves his hands in the air, cutting Gon off. “No, like, out.”

“Yeah,” says Gon. “Sure.”

“Like a date. Together.”

Gon brows pull together. “Was I supposed to say no?”

Kurapika blurts a laugh, which is quickly cut off by his hand slapping over his mouth. Gon fidgets with the hair at the base of his skull.

Zushi’s cheeks are bright red. The colour spills up his ears and over his forehead. “You like me?” asks Zushi, voice cracking.

Gon shrugs. “The point of a date is to find out, right?”

Zushi is a wreck as they make their way to the karaoke bar.

Gon tries to get him laughing, but it’s in vain.

Zushi is cute, Gon thinks. He’s fun, and Gon likes spending time with him. Gon isn’t sure if that’s a crush, though.

The karaoke bar is loud and bright and Gon hates it upon arrival, but Zushi is a balloon ready to burst at the next morsel of air, so Gon goes along with it. There are, unsurprisingly, no versions of the songs he knows in the Whale Island dialect. Gon flounders, trying to keep up with lyrics that are close but ever so slightly off.

When it’s Zushi’s turn, he stands with white knuckles around the microphone. The words start to scroll and his cheeks puff out. There’s a tremor to his bottom lip.

“Why don’t we leave,” says Gon.

Zushi breathes a sigh of relief and agrees eagerly.

They end up tucked in the back of a donut shop, sitting across from each other.

“Sorry, that was bad,” apologizes Zushi. Again.

“It’s fine,” says Gon, flashing a smile.

“I’m not sure this was a good idea,” says Zushi, his hands rubbing each other on the table.

Gon nods his earnest agreement. “I don’t think we’d make a good couple.”

Zushi’s face falls at the confirmation, and his gaze drifts over to the wall, plastered with amateur paintings on sale. Gon’s gut twists.

“But I like spending time with you. And someday, it’ll be really funny that we went on a terrible date.”

Zushi laughs nervously. “Really bad.”

Gon beams. “The worst.”

Zushi smiles shyly and takes a sip of his coffee. He taps his fingers on the sides of his mug for a moment, looking down at the floor. “It won’t be weird?”

Gon shakes his head. “Nope, promise. Here.”

He holds out a pinky and Zushi reluctantly takes it. Gon chants as Zushi watches him with befuddled interest.

“—sealed with a kiss!”

Zushi’s face turns beet red. “No thanks,” he says, voice tight.

Gon pushes their thumbs together. “Mwah.”

“Oh.”

Zushi sighs, his shoulders sinking down in relief. Gon can’t help but snicker. Zushi reaches over and slaps his arm.

A half-hour later Zushi has recovered to his regular self.

“So, how did you end up a runner?” asks Gon, stealing crumbs off his plate.

Zushi lifts a hand to swat him away, but Gon, ever a careful thief, escapes unscathed. Gon sticks out his tongue. Zushi gives him a stink eye before letting it go.

“I need a job while I’m training to take the Hunter exam,” he says, twisting his mug back and forth by its handle.

“Oh,” says Gon.

A plate crashes across the room. Gon springs to his feet. There’s a woman with her hands over her mouth and an embarrassed wobble in her voice as she bends down to pick up the pieces. The boy behind the counter tugs her back up by her arm, insisting she not worry about it. Reassured that no one is hurt, Gon leaves them be.

Zushi shuffles in his chair as Gon sits back down. “Your dad’s one, right? Don’t you wanna be too?”

Gon hums, a thumb on his lip. “Not really. I don’t think I have to be, so I don’t see the point of it.”

“You don’t see the point of it?”

“It’s a lot of work for perks I don’t care about.” The boozy lounge, free alcohol, and splendid apartment are not things he desires.

Zushi balks. “It’s not about the perks. It’s about being a protector of the city.”

Gon raises an eyebrow. His expression of disbelief morphs into a wince. “My dad is hardly a protector of the city.”

Zushi’s eye bulge wide. “Dude. Your dad is like, on some quest to find out what killed the last chairman. If that’s not protecting the city, I don’t know what is.”

Gon bobs his head back and forth. “Fixing the bridges? Upgrading the water mains?” He gestures vaguely towards Leorio’s practice, fourteen stories and three buildings away. “Making healthcare accessible?”

Zushi opens and closes his mouth like a fish, before snapping it shut and glowering down at his mug. His eyebrows are scrunched together like he’s trying to solve a difficult puzzle.

Gon shrugs a shoulder. “You don’t need to be a Hunter to do any of that.”

“Maybe,” says Zushi. “But I still wanna do it.” His mouth is set with determination.

Gon’s eye crinkle fondly. “For what it’s worth, if anyone should be a Hunter, it’s you.”

Zushi’s eyes flutter in shock. He sniffs and looks up at the ceiling. “Thanks, Gon.”

Chapter 3.

They issue him a firearm.

It’s coded to respond to his fingerprints and will only be activated when he’s on duty. Further precautions include a weekend of training at a facility on the other side of the city, jointly run and funded by the Ten Dons.

Gon enjoys the walk, and he enjoys the breaks from the classroom when he has nothing to do but wander around. Training is miserable, though. No one will crack a smile, and distrust leaves the air hot and sticky. By the time it’s over, he’s relieved to return home to Leorio’s cooking and loud complaining about work.

Kurapika tells him he suits it and the holster.

Gon’s face puckers at the compliment. He doesn’t like suiting something crafted to kill.

The gun has no functional affect on guard duty because nothing ever happens. Gon watches doors that stay closed and scouts streets free of danger.

In the copious, wretchedly still free time the job gives him, he begins to draw out a map of the city. He doesn’t need the guidebook, but maybe it can be a birthday present for Zushi.

At the very least, it makes his time feel less squandered.

***

Kurapika is late. Gon stands outside the locked up restaurant, rocking from the balls of his feet to his heels, humming a song Leorio’s been blasting for weeks.

Kurapika is never late.

It’s a guard night, so maybe he just forgot to meet with Gon before heading to the estate.

Gon texts, and then he calls. Nothing.

He bites his lip and scratches the back of his head. They’re going to be late at this rate.

Kurapika’s apartment is a shabby place. Gon’s shoes crunch on broken glass as he steps around buckets overflowing with water leaking from the ceiling. Kurapika can afford better, but says he doesn’t see what the point would be if he’s almost never there. (Most nights, he sleeps on the couch in Leorio’s apartment, anyway.)

Gon grabs the key tapped to the back of the mailbox and knocks as a formality before walking in. For a professional bodyguard, Kurapika is comically lax with his own security.

The room isn’t much more than a box. There’s a mattress on the floor, and a milk crate flipped over to support a microwave. Clothes, which theoretically belong in the shallow dresser, are scattered over the desk, chair, and bed.

Gon hears a scratchy moan in the bathroom.

Kurapika is doubled over the toilet. Sweat soaks through his white tank top, but he’s shivering. Hair is plastered to his forehead.

He looks up at Gon, his eyes dark and narrowed.

“Let me die,” he hisses as Gon hoists him up, slinging one of Kurapika’s arms over his shoulders. Kurapika leans heavily into Gon’s side, his free hand clasping at the fabric of Gon’s shirt.

“Leorio would cry,” says Gon, walking them towards the main room. “And he cries enough already.”

Kurapika fixes him with a sour pucker.

“Like when you sent the cat.”

Kurapika frowns and stumbles as Gon transfers him to the door frame to dig up a jacket.

“The cat picture?”

“Yeah.”

“It made him cry?”

Gon presses his lips flat.

Kurapika’s brows furrow, then his face falls into weary but fond amusement.

“I can see it.”

***

Leorio, freshly awoken from his night shift recovery, stares down a greasy Kurapika.

Kurapika pinches his lips tight, his hand still on the doorknob.

“Sit down,” Leorio sighs, grabbing Kurapika by the scruff of his tank top and pulling him back until his knees fold against Gon’s bed.

Gon drops their pill bottle haul from the bathroom cabinet beside him.

“I have to go now,” he says, shooting a worried look to Kurapika.

“Then go,” says Leorio. “I’ve got him.”

***

The Nostrade estate sits on top of the territory they control like skin on the surface of lukewarm soup. There are big glass ceilings over the ballrooms and jars of preserved body parts decorating alcoves.

Gon changes in the armory and barely swings into the front lobby before Neon and Eliza walk down the spiral staircase from the bedrooms.

“Where’s Kurapika?” asks Baise, her teeth gritted and her smile forced.

Gon twists his heel in the carpet. “Sick. We’ll be okay without him.”

Baise’s smile tightens and her eyes bulge. “You can’t make decisions like that on your own.”

“We’ll be fine,” says Gon.

Her glare is disgusted, but she drops the subject.

“Good evening,” says Gon, cheery, as Neon slides off her slippers, using Eliza’s offered arm for balance.

“Good evening Mr. Freecss,” she says, voice light and airy.

For all the time she spends out of the house, it’s rarely for her own pleasure. On nights when she’s alone, or alone as she can be, Neon is always bubbly.

They take an elevator to the theater.

It’s one of the services the Nostrade family operates. Not only do they control the drug market, but they monopolize most amenities, too, from water to light.

The elevators, old and prone to failure, are especially expensive.

Eliza and Neon chat in the balcony lobby, Baise and Gon close at their sides. There are two other high-ranking mafia members present, but Gon can’t name them or the older guards that circle them.

A young man Neon smiles brightly at is telling her disconnected facts about the theater’s architecture when Gon spots trouble.

Kurapika rubs his eyes as he makes his way over. Gon slips away to intercept him.

“What are you thinking?” he hisses, grabbing Kurapika by the elbow. Kurapika shrugs him off.

“I’m good to work. Leorio gave me medicine. I’m feeling better.”

Gon scowls his disapproval.

Kurapika’s nose is red and his eyes are puffy. His hair is damp, and Gon suspects he washed it in the sink.

“We can handle it without you.”

Kurapika doesn’t bother replying. He steps around Gon to catch up with the rest of the group.

Lights flash, and the shuffle for seats begins.

The theatre is paneled with dark wood, and the house lights are so dim that it takes minutes to adjust. There are private balconies, rows of seats, and a pit down the center of the room. The stage itself is shallow and cramped.

Beads, in long, dazzling strings, are hung along the spines of the faux dome. Every lighting effect and curtain lifts sends sparkling ripples out like waves.

Gon stands at the back of the balcony, beside the door, and Kurapika slumps beside him. From here the ballet is hidden by curtains red as dried blood, but Gon doesn’t care for it much anyway.

Eliza, Neon, and Baise sit in the front of two rows. Eliza and Neon chat idly, even as the music begins. Neon’s elaborate hairstyle bobs with every laugh. Baise taps her fingers on the armrest impatiently.

The audience settles. Before the performance, after it, and during intermission are the high risk times. Between those, it’s smooth sailing.

Gon zones out and watches the beads.

It’s twenty minutes into the performance when Neon abruptly stands, turns to face him directly, and says: “whatever you do, don’t touch your weapon.”

Gunfire.

Kurapika pushes off from the wall and nearly stumbles to the ground, but he manages to grab Eliza and yank her down as Baise does the same for Neon.

The music abruptly halts. There are screams, and the floor shakes as people run to get away.

Someone has to sweep the emergency route before they can move on. Usually, it would be Kurapika’s job.

“Wait with them,” says Gon, slipping out before he can be stopped.

Kurapika shouts, but his voice is cut off by the door closing. There’s a click as Baise locks it.

A curved hallway with creamy walls services all of the balcony seats. It’s an unbroken oval, with part of it used to access the catwalks over the stage. Gon jogs around it as it fills with a panicked crowd.

People shout and push past each other in a dash for the exits. A man stumbles to his knees, and Gon swerves to help him back to his feet.

Gon finds himself bumping into shoulders and getting in the way. It’s useless to try and fight the flow. He steps aside to the wall and lets people pass.

The shots came from inside the theatre, but Gon didn’t have a view of the seats. They could have been fired by a licensed guard, or someone might be running around with a cracked weapon. Neither possibility is good news.

He doesn’t know the target, and he doesn’t know if bystanders are injured.

Kurapika will have almost certainly reported the incident by now, so backup will be on its way. With so many unknown variables, staying put until then might be the smart decision—or, they might be in harm’s way.

Gon rubs his temples. There isn’t an obvious answer. Combined with Neon’s ominous warning—if anything working for the Nostrades has taught him, it’s to listen to her warnings—he doesn’t know what to do.

The crowd is thinning and being still increases his visibility, so Gon moves on. When he reaches the heavy curtain separating backstage from the audience, he draws it back without hesitation.

No one.

There are big stage lights, carts full of props, and painted set pieces.

Gon passes by the door out to the catwalks. A bucket of fake snow is tipped over beside it.

His phone rings. Kurapika. Gon snaps it closed.

On the other side of the next curtain, the hallway is empty. The silence is eerie, dropping over him like a shroud.

Gon has never seen it still like this before. The unfamiliarity, the warping of space he knows into something he does not, sets his teeth on edge.

Usually, he appreciates the gentle curve. In hand-to-hand combat, seeing your opponent when they’re still far away can minimize conflict. But once firearms are introduced, it just means that every step could be the one that put Gon in the line of a bullet.

His hands shake from the adrenaline pumping through his system, and he walks on the balls of his feet, as though he’s barefoot in the forest.

There’s a thump ahead.

A chill runs down Gon’s spine. His nostrils flare. He inches his hand closer to his lapel.

Someone is around the bend.

A man appears. He takes a step forward, graceful as a sylph, and not a sound is made when his foot falls. The tilt of his sharp shoulders is predatory, like a cat coiling to spring. Dangerous and…

Beautiful.

His eyes are sapphires, and the curve of his lips is soft. His suit is tailored perfectly to his form. The braid over his shoulder is white as crisp ocean foam.

Gon can hardly breathe.

“Who are you,” asks the man. He pops the knuckles of one hand with his thumb.

A fleck of blood drops.

Gon grinds his teeth together, mind racing.

“Are you choosing to get involved or not?” he asks, bored and impatient.

“Your buttons are done up wrong,” says Gon, pointing to the man’s jacket.

The man’s eyes widen in what is either shock or disbelief. And then he glances down.

Gon closes the distance with a leap and slams his knuckles into the man’s solar plexus.

His feet are swept out from under him and he’s slammed against the wall, toes dangling. The detached coldness in the man’s eyes is gone, replaced by hot fury.

“What the he—“

“Why didn’t you kill me?”

The intensity in the air evaporates away.

The man’s mouth is slack. His eyes narrow into a squint, searching Gon’s with naked bewilderment.

Gon holds his breath.

The man lowers him so that his toes can touch the ground.

“You could have,” says Gon.

“Because—you—who does that?”

Gon hums thoughtfully, and loses his fight against the smile trying to curl his lips.

“So you were curious, too.”

The man blinks, then closes his eyes and gives a long, shaky sigh. With a gentle shove, he lets go of Gon entirely and backs up, like an archer relaxing his bow string.

“Just tell me who you are,” says the man, leaning against the wall on the other side of the hallway.

“Gon.”

The man stares at him with a mix of horror and confusion.

A moment of silence passes. Gon pats his hips, unsure of where to put his hands.

“Do you have a death wish, Gon?”

“That’s not fair.”

The man’s eyes flutter and he gasps a shocked laugh.

“What?”

“I told you my name, you tell me yours.”

The man purses his lips. He leans his head against the wall and looks up, as if the light moldings will give him answers.

For a few seconds, Gon doesn’t think he’s going to answer.

“Killua.”

Killua.

“Nice to meet you, Killua.”

Casually leaned back, he doesn’t seem nearly as dangerous. Still beautiful, though.

“You’re weird, you know that?” says Killua, his voice raspy.

“I’m not sure you’re one to talk.”

Killua sniffs a laugh. “Takes one to know one, I guess.”

Gon laughs.

Killua’s eyes shoot wide as saucers.

“What?” he asks, tilting his head.

Gon shakes his head and waves his hands placatingly. “Nothing, just funny.”

Killua scowls. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you,” says Gon.

Killua raises an eyebrow. “Sure.”

There’s the click of a door opening further down the hallway. Gon’s head swivels.

Backup, probably. That, or a peeved Kurapika on his way to shout Gon down the second they’re out of Neon’s earshot.

Killua stands with his hand on the frame of an open door.

Gon stumbles back a step, taken aback by the dramatic movement.

For a moment their eyes meet, and something in the air shifts. It’s a comfort and a bone deep knowing so strong that Gon’s heart aches.

“Will I see you again?” he asks, hands floating uselessly.

Killua runs a hand through his hair. His eyebrows furrow, and he sucks in a breath as though to speak.

And then like a switch flicking, his eyes glaze over with the same detachment from earlier. “No, and it would be better if you forgot you ever did.”

And then he’s gone.

[kirbyxdesu]

Rules:  1. Go to this website. www.random.org/lists/ 2.Type in 15 characters from any fandom or whatever you’re into and hit randomize then write them below to the answers in that order! 3. Tag 5 or more people. 4. Have fun!

LET’S DO THIS 1. Mom/Dad: Illumi (fucking dammit, Dad. Stop killing my friends.)

2. Your sibling: Gon (Yes! My woodland Boi. Let’s go on adventures and do sibling stuffs.) 3. Grandma/Grandpa: Alluka (So ignoring the horrifying genetic incapabilities with Illumi already being my dad… Alluka would be a fucking amazing Grandma)

4. Haunts you: Ging (I haunt you too, motherfucking douche nozzle)

5. Your boyfriend/girlfriend: Pariston (I clearly have questionable taste in men. Ew.)

6. Your ex: Hanzo (WHAT HAPPENED TO US? HOW COULD YOU LET ME DATE PARISTON?!)

7. Your best friend: Chrollo (I also have bad taste in bffs. I blame it on my dad. But at least my bff is a badass.)

8. Proposed to you: Wing (awh. Bless this man.)

9.Your boss: Bisky (she’d be a freaking slavedriver but I would love having her as a boss omg)

10. Random person you met at the bar: Kurapika (…. I’m just going to ignore the fact that I met Kurapika at a BAR)

11. Your rival: Killua (WHY. WHY IS HE MY RIVAL. HIS BFF AND BF IS MY BROTHER. I’M ALLUKAS GRANDDAUGHTER. DON’T BLAME ME FOR MY FATHER.)

12. Gave you your first kiss: Beans (…… No. I refuse.)

13. Drunk and singing karaoke with: Netero (Yes. Yes on so many levels. Let’s do it, old man)

14. Played 7 minutes in heaven with: Hisoka (I.. I don’t have a problem with this.)

15. Gave you your favorite dessert: Leorio (GIMME MY CANNOLIS, OREO.)

This was so fun! I TAG @shimmy-sham-with-the-fam @mike-princeofstars @softkillua @canzie-gumm OF COURSE you don’t have to do it if u don’t want to

[wildchildfreecs]

Me and some friends came up with a Really Awful (GREAT) au, where things hurt and Gon turns dark side. I’m posting the partially edited chat log instead of summarizing ‘cause I’m lazy af, but this will be added to my Verse’s list. I just have to think of a tag

If you’re interested in RPing something from this sorta AU, please hit me up, I’d absolutely love to.

gabriel the gondad - gon is the PERFECT example of someone who could have ended up REally, REAALLLY dark but didnt, out of sheer luck of his upbringing 

can -  yeah, and if he went to hisoka for training oh my gosh

Café con Leche -  ^^ OMG i'd love to read that

can - the poor boy would do a 180

gabriel the gondad -  c h r i s t please? ? ? henckin??? ohhh man fucknign please i LOVE hisoka corrupting gons morals i love gons morals being corrupted but i love hisoka doing it even more chefs kiss and Poor Killua watching his light turn black and ugly

Café con Leche - omg yes it would corrupt him so much cain what if he tries to kill Hisoka

can - and that would make killua go back to his family

gabriel the gondad -  O h h h h

can -  omg

gabriel the gondad -  oh this is good

can -  WHAT IF HE CORRUPTS GON SO MUCH THAT

Café con Leche -  OH MY GOS

can -  GON STANDS IN BETWEEN THEM TO PROTECT HISOKA

gabriel the gondad - DFDF

Café con Leche - WHAT IF

gabriel the gondad -  GUCK

Café con Leche -  YES BUT ALSO lISTEN what if Hisoka completely fucks killua up And Gon walks in and just looks at him

gabriel the gondad - and doesnt care

Café con Leche -  all bloody on the ground YES

can -  YESSS

gabriel the gondad -  "You did this to yourself, Killua."

Café con Leche -  And Killua weeps and reaches out for him

gabriel the gondad - and gon Leaves

can -  And then cue illumi like "see this is why i said assassins dont have friends"

Café con Leche -  Illumi saves him

gabriel the gondad -  C H RI ST

Café con Leche -  and Killua goes back home clad in darkness AND OMG WHAT IF FUCKING ALLUKA TRIES TO PERSUADE GON

gabriel the gondad -  C H R I S T ALLUKA NO oh o h n o what if killua makes a wish

Café con Leche -  OOOH oh my god what if his wish brings Gon back but gon realizes what he's done

gabriel the gondad -  gon still REmembers and he wont forgive himself

Café con Leche -  and he can bear to live with himself BUT he has to save killua

gabriel the gondad -  ooooooooo c hrist c h r i s t the Drama the Pain I Love It

Café con Leche -  and hisoka and illu just keeps trying to keep tem corrupted them* and gon sees killua again and killua is just ice cold, dead in the eyes

gabriel the gondad -  WHAT IF.... KILLUA.. yes Y E S

Café con Leche -  and gon knows its all his fault it's like kite all over again f uck

can -  and hisoka is like, "this is why you shouldn't put your faith in other people~ only live for yourself and your own pleasures"

Café con Leche -  Hisoka whispering in Gon's ear how it's all his fault and he should just accept it

gabriel the gondad - this is,, So Good im eating my own fist OK BUT LISTEN CONSIDER hisoka telling gon "this is your fault. this is why you should live for only yourself" and gon turns around and punches hisoka in the face with as much nen as he can muster and says "if i live for myself, I'm killing you first." bc hisokas the one. that did this to him

can -  hisoka would be LIVID And all hisoka has to say once Gon is dead is "Pity~ He wasn't nearly as ripe as I'd hoped. Such a waste."    

Café con Leche - Imagine if killua just watches Gon and Hisoka    slowly but surely once he sees Gon near death he's returning to some of his consciousness and he cant live without his light and Illumi fucking loses it

gabriel the gondad -  c h r i s t ohhh my god

Café con Leche -  illumi tries to kill hisoka gabriel the gondad - im Suffering ok but illumi would win b/c hisoka would already be injured from his fight w gon

can -  Hisoka would retreat after that he aint dumb

Café con Leche -  illumi would chase after him

gabriel the gondad -  illumi wouldnt fuckn Let Him

Café con Leche -  make it his life mission to kill him jesus this got dark

gabriel the gondad -  YOU DONT SAY

Café con Leche -  imagine Ging seeing his son so messed up

gabriel the gondad -  o h IMAGINE MITO

Café con Leche -  mito would blame ging it's his fault he wanted to be a hunter his fault he wasnt there for him

gabriel the gondad -  ffffffffuuuuuck ok but, where gon doesnt die he beats hisoka in his fight

can -  "Kill me, and you'll be just like me~"

gabriel the gondad -  and he takes killua with him, and they leave, and they go to ging, and gon says "please help me, i dont know what to do any more" gon doesnt kill him hes Very Particuar about that breaks both his legs, rips an arm off, whatever it takes but doesnt Kill him illumi can have that right, if he wants it

Boopi -  oh

gabriel the gondad -  HI BOOPI WEVE BEEN. PLOTTING

Boopi -  plotting about wut- e.e

gabriel the gondad -  plotting about corruption

Boopi -  corruption- i- see- exiTS

gabriel the gondad -  BOOPI NO COME B A C K

Boopi -  corruption and alluka can not be within the same conversatioN-

gabriel the gondad -  listen alluka is the one who fixes everything shes still pure and wholesome

Boopi -  okay so what i understand is gon is all dark and moody and killua is suffering more gon x hisoka new evil double duo illumi and killua bonding and alluka flies down from the heavens as an angel to fix everything and re-create killugon

gabriel the gondad - she tries to recreate killugon but you cant erase the past so its still all fucked up and moody

Boopi -  does trying make it w orse cause what a twist

gabriel the gondad -  i meannnn,,,, define worse

Boopi -  dang is this au that dark

gabriel the gondad -  :^)

Boopi -  if everyone is gonna be dark/angst/whatever this is i am perfectly okey with this sad/wise alluka ftw

gabriel the gondad -  if by worse you mean it hurts, because one of the possibilies is gon and killua die but also the possibilty they win the fight against hisoka and have to deal with the fallout of all their decisions and wrongdoings or would worse be they never speak again, and both continue along their paths of killing and being perfect imitations of hisoka and illumi

Boopi -  omg allu's stuck in-between

gabriel the gondad -  :^) i, personally, think that killua would make a wish to fix everything but nanikas power isnt omnipotent all she can do is get gon to realize where he fucked up and from there, its up to him to try and fix it (whether or not he can is a completely different story.)

Boopi -  okay so how would alluka act with everything's different? shouldn't she be affected by it too

gabriel the gondad -  THATS. ALSO SOMETHIN I WAS WORRIED ABOUT

can -  i mean

Boopi -  maybe not nanika, but allu

can -  she probably will lose her brother and get locked up again

Café con Leche -  AND KILLUA DOESNT CARE AAAAAAAAAAAAH

gabriel the gondad -  yeah, unless she escapes she'll prob get locked up again

Boopi -  if killua doesn't care then illumi is free to do whatever

gabriel the gondad -  id say its possible that,, killua does what he can to free her so he can still have one light in the world like, before he goes back to the family, he hides alluka away  

can -  if killua calls her something bad like

Boopi -  "it"

can -  "that thing isnt apart of the family"

Café con Leche -  Illumi: So Killua, what do we do with "it"? Killua: .. Do whatever u want jesus but yes i hear u gabe¨

Boopi -  can you even imagine a dark alluka

gabriel the gondad -  n o

Café con Leche -  ALLUKA

gabriel the gondad -  not my gentle sweet sunshine

can -  y es

gabriel the gondad -  n o N   O

Café con Leche -  gets corrupted cuz she loses HER light

can -  she will giggle when she kills ppl

Boopi -  just an alluka that's lost hope and enjoys the killing

Café con Leche -  omg omg boopi what if Alluka get's corrupted and starts killing because she wants to be useful to Killua

Boopi -  alluka or nanika? or both

Café con Leche -  both

Boopi -  bOTH

Café con Leche -  Alluka tells Nanika to kill people and then asks Killua to pat her head aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

Boopi -  just imagine Alluka's holding [insert character name]'s head here "Killua... Pat my head and tell me I'm a good girl..." and she just creepily smiles while walking towards him with the head casually omg i srry

Café con Leche -  omg what if one day she's like "Killua... Want Gon to die?"

gabriel the gondad -  O H

Boopi -  cHILL wi dark alluka refers to herself like she's an object t h o

can -  O H M Y GOD

Café con Leche -  ......... oh my go d

can -  "I'm an object that you can use, big brother~"

gabriel the gondad -  this got a w f u l l y dark

Boopi -  "Do not worry over my feelings, big brother. I feel nothing. It feels nothing." geebus christ

Café con Leche -  imagine kurapika's roll in this

gabriel the gondad -  O H pika watching gon turn into the exact type of person he despises just like the troupe trained by an ex-troupe member killing for sport, just to get stronger, just to prove he can kill them

Café con Leche -  oMG

gabriel the gondad -  OH WHAT IF.... HISOKA..... TELLS.... GON.... TO... kill his old friends

Café con Leche -  kp is a maffia boss right.... What if Killua get's a mission to assassinate him..

Boopi -  nO not the friends pls

gabriel the gondad -  LSTIEN GON KILLING LEORIO

Boopi -  NU

can -  AAAAAAAA

Café con Leche -  yas

Boopi -  NOT THE OREO

gabriel the gondad - walks Right Up to leorio, nen out and boiling like it was with pitou and oreo, poor oreo, laughing, trying to understand whats wrong

Café con Leche -  Gabe gabe gabe even worse he crushes his hands, makes him unable to ever become a doctor

gabriel the gondad -  hmmm good angst, but also, i feel like, gons goal would be to Remove leorio as a tie

Café con Leche - Sasuke style

gabriel the gondad -  i never watched shippuden :0

Boopi - sasuke tried to sever all his old bonds i think

gabriel the gondad -  yeah basically that kill everyone who was important to you,  so they cant be used against you gon, punching a hole through leorios ribcage, becase he doesnt have killuas technique of ripping the heart out so he just obliterates it instead leorio dying and looking up at gon and saying "i forgive you”

Boopi - stop you're hurting me

gabriel the gondad -  leorio WOULD forgive him tho this got really out of hand, really fast