#killu&palm

[killugonficlibrary]

Hi! Not sure if this fic is already on here, but if not PLEASE check out Double-Edged Crown by cyberflamingo on Ao3! It is probably my favorite fic of all time!

Double-Edged Crown by cyberflamingo ( T | 107,683 | 16/16 )

The wealthiest families in Yorbia are given the opportunity of a lifetime when their daughters qualify to compete for the prince’s hand in marriage.

Only one contestant isn’t excited to participate. Killua, a mercenary forced to take his sister’s place, just wants to be eliminated so he can stop cross-dressing and return to work. But things take a turn for the worse when he finds himself succeeding despite his best efforts to fail—and as the competition continues, he begins to suspect the prince may have a couple of screws loose.

Because if Killua’s pass rate is any indication...the man has some very strange requirements for his future wife

This fic~ is immediately and without question one of my all-time favorites. Utterly hilarious & charming. Authentic friendships. I felt the stellar-story flutters and laughed way too actually-out-loud-ly. Thanks for the rec! ^^

~ gabs ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

[evereinefaust]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ࿐ྂ

Pairing: Killua Zoldyck X afab!Reader

Sypnosis: While spending a dull day outside a cafe, Killua decided to pop up and bother MC. The two of them spend the day exploring her hometown and eventually entered a garden where blooming affections unravel.

Word Count: 1,271

You sat outside the cafe, holding your cup of hot beverage with both of your hands. Sighing, you looked over to your [fav drink] and blew air on it. This spring, you could say that you are very bored during this season. You convinced the males to visit your hometown once, and here you are, sitting outside a cafe shop with no one to talk to. All of them are probably out to explore the town, leaving the only girl who invited them, alone.

"I guess no one is a gentleman..." you told yourself so bored, resting your cheeks on your [skin color] skin, eyes threatening to close. After a while, your head banged down on the hardwood table.

"I guess that I might just go home and take sleep all day."

"It's still early in the morning yet you thought of that?" there is it. The all-so-familiar voice of the infamous and rebellious ex-assassin. You didn't care to raise your head or reply to him, you just stayed like that, groaning in disgust as an acknowledgment of his presence.

Killua took the seat opposite to yours and took the cup of your hot beverage.

"Hey!" you shot your head up so rapidly and glared at him, trying to snatch the [fav drink] from his hand.

"Nah-ah-ah!" Killua stood up from his seat to get out of your reach, he took a sip of your beverage.

"KILLUA!" you slammed your palms on the table as you instantly stood up, your eyes shows anger, but at the same time, shock and dismal. You gritted your teeth and held up your clenched fist, your whole body shaking in a majority of anger.

After the white-haired assassin finished drinking your beverage, he smiled to himself with his signature cat mouth. "Ah~ That was very tasty, no wonder you liked this kind of drink."

"Killu-!"

Your eyes widened in surprise as you taste cold lips on yours, with the flavor of your favorite drink. Your whole body stopped shaking in anger and you could feel that your legs would give up anytime soon. Your wrath soon vanished and was replaced with butterflies, your stone heart melted and throbbed against your rib cage. Killua had your chin cupped by his soft, delicate fingers. Your eyes slowly fluttered close as the kiss continued for a few more minutes. Killua separated from you slowly and you opened your eyes again to meet with his sapphire ones. Your eyes show yearning for the taste of his lips again.

"I can see that you like the taste of my lips~" Killua let go of your chin as he smirked.

"Shut up Zoldyck," you grunted then shrugged. You sat back in your seat and crossed your legs, resting your chin on your palm as you shot him another glare. "I hate you for devouring my number one favorite drink in the whole world."

"But I let you taste my lips with [fav drink] on it."

You groaned. "Why are you even here anyway? I thought you were with Gon?"

"Gon has something else to do after we finished roaming your town, and I decided to come and visit you."

"That's so sweet of you, Kil~" you told him with a sweet voice. You stood up again and went near him, your face nearing his. Killua distance his face from your nearing ones as sweat beads appeared on his face. "Just let me remind you that you were actually the one who decided to leave me at home, convincing the others to accompany you explore."

You pressed your index finger to his chest as you shot the statement at him.

"That's why I'm here, right? To let me accompany you and let you enjoy your day," he pushed your shoulders back and you relaxes again.

"Fine. So, what do you have in mind?" you sighed heavily then looked at him for answers. He just smiled.

"Let's go and see the blooming cherry blossoms."

"Fine then."

Killua took out his hand to you and you took it without any second thought. Having him by your side to explore your hometown is quite nice actually, especially when you are previously bored and have no one to talk to. The white-haired assassin is actually the only one that circulates inside your mind all morning. You can't stay angry at him at all, you love him so much to forgive him so easily, though, you were still mad after what he did to your [fav drink]. But you just shrugged it off and let it pass for now.

It seems that Killua comes from your hometown for he already memorized the places in your town. You were quite awed by the fact that he is one intelligent boy, and you were lucky to have him as your soon-to-be boyfriend. You still haven't answered 'yes' to him yet, you still need to test his skills in attaining your heart. He always gives all of his effort to make you say the magic word, he can sometimes be so sweet, or be teasing, or a bit annoying. He will use any method to make you notice him, just him, nobody else. And you liked that since you once threatened him that you would find someone else if he won't put an effort into you.

"Here we are!" Killua declared as the two of you entered the magical palace of cherry blossoms.

It is like a park with some benches on the side, several cherry blossoms in the middle, and lampposts between benches. There is an arch entrance sign to the beautiful place also known as 'Rose Quartz', the sign calligraphy expresses the theme of this place, love. There it written the words Fleur de cerisier d'amour.

You smiled to yourself as you secretly thanked Killua for taking you to this place. 'I guess I would give him another point,' you thought to yourself.

"Come on, [Name]. Let's go," The white-haired assassin smiled so warmly at you that it could make your heart melt and stomach fill with butterflies again.

Killua leads you to one of the oak wood benches crafted so delicately. You sat on the bench and Killua was next to you, the seat has a nice view of the blooming cherry blossoms.

"[Name]?"

"Hm?"

"Do you made up your mind already?"

"Hm... I would say that you had a great performance, but it still wasn't enough," you told him, your hands still interlock with him. "There's a thing you are still missing."

"What would that might be?" he looked at you. You smirked then pointed at your lips, he knew the motion and then smiled.

Without any hesitation, he cupped both of your cheeks with his hand and slowly leaned on. Your eyes closed as his lips slightly brushed against yours. And when his lips completely touched yours, you can still taste his [fav drink]-flavored lips. The pink cherry blossoms started blooming so vividly and the moment lasted so long. Killua broke apart and you fluttered your eyes open.

"So, do you already have an answer?" His ocean-blue eyes met your [e/c] ones.

"Yes. I love you is my answer."

Your and his forehead touched as both of your eyes closed, enjoying the spring moment that both of you shared.

[decembercamiecherries]

Puddle

Killua knows Gon is home from the moment he steps through the door. 

He freezes, the keys digging into his palm as he stares at the puddle on the hardwood floor. Normally, he would be upset. Normally he would storm through the apartment and nag Gon about not dragging dirt through their home--again. But today is not normal because it’s been over a month since Gon left on some Hunter job to the middle of nowhere and Killua’s spent the last thirty nights missing his warmth on the bed beside him.

So Killua runs. He doesn’t take off his jacket or lock the door behind him. He sprints through the rooms, skidding to a stop in front of their bedroom before gasping, “Gon?!”

Gon turns. He’s covered from head to toe in dirt, mud caked onto his clothes and making his spikes of hair stick in a thousand different directions. He smells like shit. But his eyes are that same warm brown and his smile is as brilliant and perfect as it had been in Killua’s dreams.

“Killu--ack!”

Gon’s words are lost as Killua crashes into him. They topple back onto the bed and Killua grabs Gon’s face to kiss him with all the pent up longing that had been building inside him for the past few weeks.

And when Gon kisses back, Killua feels like he’s returned home, too.

[xiu21chen99]

hxh headcanon/imagine.

again... still about hisoillu but about their engagement instead of illu's influenced fashion choice.

also this is more of... idk it gave reason why they chose to marry instead of uh other ways i guess??

i've seen so many fanarts where illu would break the news to the zoldycks or how killu would react to having hisoka as his brother in law- like srsly it's meme worthy at this point- and lotsa ones that showed how hisoka proposed as a joke or smtg but... I've been overthinking abt it these past few days sO i present to you how i think "the big question aka the proposal" happened... (manga spoilers??)

it's after hisoka resurrected himself obviously, and def after he killed kortopi and shalnark (so he knew there was gonna be empty slots in the spiders' lineup)

i imagine illu went back to the zoldyck estate after the whole fiasco and only heard of hisoka's "death" from rumors while he was on a mission

and then when he was idk maybe contemplating on whether or not he should visit the body(?) to pay respects or something, he gets a text message from the devil himself

their text went like this probably:

hisoka: hey~ where are you right now?♠️ (and no u can't tell me hisoka doesn't text w card suits u just can't-)

illumi: who are you and how did you get the phone you are currently using?

hisoka: ooh~ illu~ i feel betrayed, did you delete my number?♣️

illumi: hisoka is dead

hisoka: *image attached*

illumi: oh

illumi: hello hisoka, how are you still alive?

hisoka: you sound disappointed~♦️

illumi: i kind of am...

hisoka: rude, just tell me where you are♥️

...and that's how they met up?? ngl i think illu has a know-it-all syndrome where he just has to,,, k n o w everything

he's curious so he agrees to the meetup ofc

he's also surprised when he sees hisoka is in good shape when they meet (idk at a bar in an unknown city?)

they drink whiskey on the rocks because... you know...

hisoka explains how he survived and his next plan of action (which is terminate the spiders)

illumi makes a mental note of nen after death bc he's heard and seen it all before but... not to this extent,

this is gonna be,,, bland but i think this is the logic behind why hisoka chose to get married/engaged instead of just paying up front (reference to the ten dons' commission to get chrollo killed and chrollo's commission to get the ten dons killed)--

anyways here's how their conversation goes:

i: "why did you want to talk in person?"

h: "oh y'know, for old times sake."

i: "...right"

hisoka laughs, "okay so maybe i want to ask you for a favor..?"

confused, illumi asks, "why could you not have just texted if you wanted me to kill someone for you?"

h: "no, no- wait, actually, you're not too far off."

i: ~mOrE cOnfUsiOn~ "huh?"

h: "how do contracts for assassination work in your... family business?"

i: "half the promised pay before, the remaining half afterwards. should the target be eliminated by a third party, the assigned zoldyck still gets the pay and should the employer die, then the contract is terminated and the zoldyck will report back immediately."

h: "and has anyone made a contract to have themselves terminated?"

i: "i beg your pardon?"

h: "what complications will arise should your employer's target be... themselves?"

i: "i believe... i have never encountered such circumstance before. the people who hire us are those who have enough money and resource to have their enemies killed quickly. no one's tried to test the zoldyck assassination prowess."

h: "so... how will that work?"

i: "are you implying this is the reason why you have contacted me today?"

h: "yes~ ♥️" (how he said a heart emoji out loud is up to you, reader)

i: "it will be a pointless paradox. logically, the zoldyck will only get the employment bill. and i, myself, do not find pleasure in going for the kill like you lest i get my reward, so you will not get a contract out of me, hisoka."

h: "is there no leeway?"

i: "a zoldyck stands up to their word. so no."

h: "even for a friend?~ ♦️"

i: "we are not friends, hisoka-"

hisoka raises his glass of whiskey along with his eyebrow.

i: "oh..."

h: "didn't you tell dear killua that a zoldyck didn't need friends?"

i: "you... are an associate, someone reliable in the killing world. it's different."

h: "hypocrite"

i: "i ask you for favors and you make me return them. it is not like we spend our time together leisurely like killu with that island boy..."

hisoka clinks their matching glasses of whiskey even though his is already empty, a shit-eating grin on his lips.

i: "you suggested we meet here."

h: "this isn't the first time we went out to drink, right illu?"

i: "regardless!! i will not kill you just for half the money. i do not like wasting efforts on fruitless missions."

h: "as i said, is there no exception, to make sure you get my money if you were to succeed in killing me?"

i: "are you doubting my skill, hisoka?"

h: "that's not the point right now~ ♠️"

i: "wait, why do you want me to get all of your money?"

h: "haven't we just gotten over this subject? because you're my friend, of course."

i: "i... we are not friends, hisoka."

hisoka claps, "that's it! illumi!! ♣️"

i: "eh?"

h: "marry me! that way in our prenup I'll make sure you get all of my money, and even without a prenup you'll still get it since you'll be my only relative! that solves it!"

i: "hisoka, are you sure death did not took a toll on your brain? you did say you used Bungee Gum only on your heart and lungs..."

h: "i'm being serious, illumi!! and doesn't this solve your earlier conflict? we don't have to be friends, we'll be husbands!"

i: "do not use that tactic with me, you manipulative bastard. stop joking."

h: "this is purely beneficial for you, honestly i don't get why you just won't accept it."

i: "then humor me this first, why now?"

h: "dear illu, i've been to literal hell and back. i think it's time to leave my mark in case i fail to escape death again."

i: "was it that bad?"

h: "you'll love it there, illu~ ♥️"

h: "on a more serious note, though, i do plan to marry you. out of everyone i've encountered, you're the most eligible candidate. you're powerful, fully capable and extremely pretty to boot! you're the ideal husband!"

(blushing obviously, illumi downs the remaining whiskey in his glass) i: "death has changed you, hisoka."

h: "so?"

i: "fine."

h: "excellent!"

and in one fell swoop, illumi has a pin against the curve of hisoka's jugular, wrist held tightly by hisoka- a card matching against his own neck.

"not yet, dear husband." hisoka whispered into his ear, "we have to manage the papers first. and i've a request before you do."

they let each other go at the same time, not even breathing an unnecessary breath in the other's personal space (well, they're nearly pressed thigh to thigh anyways, what's the point of personal space anymore-)

"a condition rather than a request, really."

"what?" hisoka orders them refills, and downs his when it arrives.

"join the ryodan first."

glass already pressed on thin lips, illumi's confused hum resonates softly into the concave utensil. "why?"

"so things can get more interesting. i assume you know of the dark continent expedition that's soon to take place?"

"father has advised i take part on it, since kalluto told me the ryodan plans to rob some cliches who'll join the expedition- to look after him. you want me to join them?"

"yes, and i plan to board as well, don't fret."

illumi's eyes turn to slits, "how should i know you would be there? i can't take your word when you might just disappear when we've all boarded."

hisoka grins, wide then wider, "you should know by now illu, i plan to avenge my wounded pride. that damned chrollo didn't even fight me properly."

tilting his head, illumi stared at the man beside him, "is that not contradictory? i thought you did not mind your opponent using whatever means necessary to win?"

"magicians use tricks and misdirection to awe the audience," hisoka says almost thoughtlessly, "chrollo's a narcissistic hypnotist who used the audience as a damned shield because he knew he couldn't handle me face-to-face."

he groans, tinged in regret. "i shouldn't have picked heaven's arena, if i'd chosen a more discreet location then maybe the damage won't be this bad."

"damage?" illumi rests his chin on his palm, facing his husband.

hisoka swipes a hand over his face, and the glamour comes off. the picture he sent illumi now present in front of him. he was missing a nose, his left hand didn't have any finger left and dried blood chipped on his white skin. "oh."

with another swipe, everything's made correct again. hisoka was grinning again. he downs the remaining alcohol and leaves jenny bills under the emptied glass.

"come, lovely husband. we're to elope and legalize our union!"

illumi follows suit after downing his own glass, "i think there might be another loop hole, if you were to join the family. zoldycks do not kill family."

"so if i were to wed you, here and now, you'd think me more of a family than alluka?"

"alluka is not family."

"are those your words, illumi? or silva's?"

"i..."

"wow, you're really just as fucked up as i am."

"where do you plan to take me? i've just said i cannot kill family."

hisoka chuckles, "then you're the one to take my name, of course."

"preposterous!"

"who the hell still uses that word?"

"i am and will always be a zoldyck-"

"exactly. it's just legal papers, if you kill me then you'll just be a widow and even get your name back! see how everything'll work out in the end?"

"hisoka-"

"are you doubting your skill of assassination, my dearest husband?"

"... i better get the most expensive ring in this damned city."

"that's the spirit! now let's go get married!"

"wait, hisoka. what is your last name?"

later that night, when they leave a chapel, something gold glimmers on hisoka's bungee gum/texture surprise ring finger. a matching one around illumi's finger.

unlike hisoka, though, illumi had an extra red glimmer right under that gold, in the dead center of a silver band of intricately designed pattern. hisoka had foregone the traditional diamond in favor of a 16 carat ruby engagement ring, such a curious choice but illumi accepted it all the same...

(much later on, hisoka took both rings as collateral and reminded illumi that he would get them back even if he died bc it was in their damn prenup- and bc it was technically bought under illumis name and that's how hisoka assured illu that he'd be on that black whale,,, bc he had the rings and planned to give them back to him there)

"I thought a red gemstone was better suited for the rather bloody and murderous ending that our relationship will inevitably come to, wouldn't you agree?"

-Hisoka Morow whenever someone mentions his preference of proposal ring...

"I disagree with most of his ideals, our relationship has always had a fragile foundation, and I knew from the start that we'd eventually end up killing each other."

-Illumi Morow, nee Zoldyck when asked about his thoughts on his husband...

[adulttrio-imagines]

42 for Illumi 💕

Prompt: “It’s okay to break.” - “I’m not going to break.”

Kintsugi:  The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold or similar material, highlighting the cracks instead of disguising them

The bowl is beautiful, there was no denying it. After months of waiting, the finished product fits perfectly in your palms, slivers of gold coating the rim and cracked edges of the fine china glimmering brightly under the dim light of your bedroom, starkly contrasting the porcelain white hue and ornate floral designs. Its’s perfect, so perfect that you can almost forgive yourself for breaking it in the first place. You smile, pressing your lips against it, the coolness spreading across your skin.

It almost makes you wonder if you should show this to your…. “Husband” …..

Smile faltering, you pull the bowl away from your face, and stare at the clock ticking ominously above it. You haven’t seen him in a couple weeks, and none of the butlers would even deign you the slightest answer whenever you pepper them with questions. It’s probable they know as little as you do, however unlikely that situation is.

But you know your place. For all the glamourous marble columns and comforts of plush furniture surrounding you, the fact is that the whole setup was nothing more than an elaborate cage, set to separate you from the outside world and chain you down to whatever your owner desired.

You squash the feeling of resentment piling deep in your throat, unconsciously grasping your hand to prevent it from shaking so hard. There is no use in being angry, no point in submerging yourself in that all-consuming feeling of rage that never surmounted to anything more than additional hurt.

The heavy wooden doors to your room open with a loud swing. The lack of tell-tale padding sounds gives way that this could be none other than Illumi. It shuts with a simple click, and nothing happens.

You stop and turn, wondering why he was just standing there, and nearly drop the bowl. Illumi stands at the door, hollow, unmoving, dark substances pouring from the crevices on his face. It’s blood, you realize with a shock. It dribbles down his face sluggishly, pouring out from the angular cuts that cover his face, haphazardly made and extremely painful to look at. But the dark abyss that are his eyes scare you the most. It’s different. Even more so than usual. It’s strange how emptiness is felt, how everything sucked out of the room until you’re left with nothing but beating hearts and sweaty palms. He stays where he is, your breath catches in your throat, and the familiar creeps of fear and dread crawl over your skin, clambering all over your neck and oozing into your brain, you wonder if you’ll survive the night.

“What happened?” You ask before you can stop yourself.

He isn’t entirely there, staring blankly into the space behind you as blood streamed down his cheeks, staining the marble tiles.

“Nothing.” You furrow your brows, standing up, and walk hesitantly towards him. He stiffens when you trace the scars around his face.

“Does it hurt?” Deep cuts that ran all the way down unbroken to his neck lined his face, angry, red and fresh. It’ll require some stitches.

He blinks. “No, I’ve had worse.”

“I’ll patch you up.” You try to guide him towards the dressing table, but he’s rooted to the ground.

Illumi stares at the ceiling with his huge, huge eyes, blinks once, twice, and closes them, shutting himself out of the room. “I am fine.” His tired voice sounds almost strangled, as if something had grabbed him and squeezed every last bit of willpower out of him.

Your heart wrings itself, and despite the thundering voices you hear screaming in your head, you asks,

“What did she do to you?”

He ignores you, and takes mechanical steps towards the dressing table, staining the floor with more blood and collapses into the chair.

“I’m tired.” He mutters tightly, avoiding your question altogether, instead pinching the bridge of his nose as he rests on his elbows.

“Illumi,” He stiffens, just barely noticeable, when you you kneel in front of him, hand on his knee, “please talk to me.”

His stare is unreadable and unfocus, eyes shifting to look at the window behind you, drawn towards an unseen object or person; you wonder, through bated breath, if it’s the same thing that makes him jerk and wake so suddenly in the dead of night.

You wait for what seemed like an eternity, stilling yourself to only the most necessity of breaths, before he finally finds the strength to answer.

“Killu left. Mother is upset. She almost gouged Millu’s eyes out.” He says, unfeeling and avoiding your concern expression.

“Oh.” Kikyo’s theatrics are not unheard of, even five floors above the main chamber. While you’ve never met the woman, you’ve certainly heard her.

“I tried to help.” He continues, fists curled so tightly the skin over his knuckles look as if they would tear apart from the sheer force. He uses your lack of reaction to further his story. That’s how you both communicated. Too much of anything at once and he just broke.

“I’m sure you did your best.” You reply gently, dressing his wound. He lets you do it.

“She got mad that I wasn’t there to stop him.” The blood caking his skin is difficult to remove, and pulls at his porcelains skin when you try to wipe it away.

“You weren’t here.” The needle piercing his skin doesn’t elicit a reaction, as if he doesn’t even know it’s there.

“I should have been.” The bandages easily soak up the remaining blood, splotches of red forming all over and painting them crimson.

“Do you want talk about it?” You carefully dab disinfectant around his skin, it’s cool and smooth to the touch.

“Why would I?” He scoffs, reminding him of the cold man you’ve known him as.

“It’ll help you feel better.” Your reply is small, you withdraw the cotton gauze and uncontrollably shrink into yourself.

“I’m feeling good, thank you.” You smile softly at his lie.

“It’s okay to break.” You tell him.

“I’m not going to break.” 

You stare at the bowl settled on the dressing table, the cracks of gold glinting brightly. “There’s beauty in being broken.”

He shakes his head, hair falling from his bun. “I’m not broken.” He says softly, more so to convince himself that you.

The room is silent excluding the soft humming of the mini fridge that fills it. Hesitantly, you curl two of your fingers around his pinky, becoming all too aware of the heat creeping up your neck when he doesn’t pull away.

“I love you, you know. All of you.” You say before you can stop yourself. Lies and truths intermingled, wrapping themselves into a furious dance, and it was now impossible to differentiate between the two. The words taste bitter and feel foreign in your mouth, but it felt right saying that.

Pale, clammy fingers curl around your wrist, and he gently tugs you into his lap. Knees buckling, your hands resting like weights on his shoulders, the smell of fresh earth and copper brushing against your nose as your forehead presses against his. You stare into the dark abyss swirling behind fluttering lashes, heart coiling into a tight knot.

“Show me. Prove it to me.” His whisper tickles the back of your ear, and you push your quivering lips against his to push the strangled sob that bubbles at the tip of your tongue, tasting the bitter anger and frustration that had been burn into him.

You love him.

His hands trace the curves of your hips, purposeful and possessive as your tongues meet.

You love him not.

He claws at your thigh, humming appreciatively as you groan when they leave pin pricks of blood lining your skin. Your eyes prickle when the force of tears become too much.

You love him.

He reminds you of the orchids blooming in the greenhouse; from the top of his head to the balls of his feet, elegant, graceful and so very, very beautiful. For all his quirks and peculiarities, he is surprisingly adapt at horticulture, pridefully displaying his collection of flowers he tended to during his free time, green thumb strikeout contrasting the blood soaked fingers that reeked of death. Cool strands of inky black tumble past his shoulders like waterfalls and settle easily in your grasp. Beautiful, just as he was the first you ever laid eyes on him. You tug at those locks and gasps at the shoot of pain when he bites down on your lower lip.

You love him not.

He scares you. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you pass out of the sheer terror of being with him. The sneering cool look he has etched permanently behind his mask of indifference. The nights where he has returned back to the prison which is your room, thick with bloodlust and desire, limbs bent into impossible angles as he creeps towards you, eyes maniacally wide and wild, the clawing feeling burning into the back of your throat when your heart nearly tore it’s way out from the depths of his stare.

Despite it all, you remain, standing, waiting, wanting him to stay by your side, even though it tears your mind in half as you rattle your head for this broken logic.

“There’s beauty in everything.” You murmur, cheeks wet with tears. You wanted to believe, desperately clung to the idea that uncontrollable circumstances happened for reasons. It feels almost bittersweet, realizing that the same thing held you both captive here in the mansion. He blinks slowly, the old scars on his face are striking. These new ones won’t be the last, and it’ll be a continual addition to the collection of abuse he has endured. He graces a hand over your cheek, wiping your face with unknown gentleness and cups it. You choke on a sob as you hold him close, the pain, loneliness and despair that had been growing inside your hearts converging, eating away every last defense you had before finally exploding like a ticking time bomb, bursting like a geyser as rest your head on his shoulder, tears streaming down like rivers.

He rest his chin on the top of your head, his heartbeat warm and comforting. He doesn’t understand your hurt, doesn’t understand your pain, doesn’t understand the anger you feel on his behalf, for the years of torture, anger and abuse he’s withstood for years, for being discarded like a broken toy, for being stripped of his worth and value, but you feel it all the same. You hold your tongue, for he would not understand why you hold such feelings, or rather, he chooses not to understand your feelings, for he knows he would crumble to dust if he forces himself to accept the reality he lives in.

You close your eyes, breathing in the comforting scent of pine and fresh dirt as you both remained, curled into each other until the afternoon sun shines high in the ever blue sky, hurting both your eyes.

[curly-bangtan]

30🆘33🆘34 AAAAAAAAAAAAA 🥳🥳🥳🥳

#30: “you’re secretly so soft, don’t even deny it.”

#33: “let me kiss your pouty lips.”

#34: “okay that’s it, you’re definitely my soulmate.”

A/N: @taexxxiiaa means with Heatwave!Taehyung loll she got too excited…! Any fic member drabbles are non-canon so this could have happened in the Heatwave world but only hypothetically/possibly!!

.

“Fuck.” Taehyung looks at his phone screen as it lights up so blindingly bright after plugging it into the charger. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. FUCK!”

[23 unread message]

-23:01-

Roommate hoe: yo wya

-23:05-

Roommate hoe: y u always late

Roommate hoe: u better be on ur way

-23:14-

Roommate hoe: bitch where r u

-23:16-

Roommate hoe: kim taehyung

Roommate hoe: taehyung kim

Roommate hoe: hyung kim tae

-23:17-

Roommate hoe: can u at least reply

-23:19-

Roommate hoe: im getting so pissy

-23:20-

Roommate hoe: n cold

-23:29-

Roommate hoe: where the fuck r u

-23:31-

Roommate hoe: u better not be dead in a ditch somewhere or i killu

-23:33-

Roommate hoe: answer ur phone

-23:45-

Roommate hoe: 45 mins late

Roommate hoe: no sex for u tonight

Roommate hoe: i’m rly mad @ u

Roommate hoe: i’m sleeping with someone else tn

-23:49-

Roommate hoe: istg if u forgot our anniversary

-23:50-

Roommate hoe: is ur phone dead again

-00:00-

Roommate hoe: 1 hour

Roommate hoe: i’m rly fucking mad right now.

Roommate hoe: TAEHYUGN

Roommate hoe: u r dead to me.

[8 miss calls from Roommate hoe]

Taehyung is scared for his life. And then he hears the keys rattle at the front door and his heart drops ten storeys more from the purgatory it had already fallen to. He has never experienced fear like the fear of your wrath, fiery as dragon’s breath and as potent as the venom of a scorpion. He chucks his phone onto his bed, anchored by the charger wire to the wall. And he quietly, cautiously, creeps out from his room.

Okay, you look really fuck hot. In your skin tight leather pants and black mesh top that allows some skin to peak through.

If it wasn’t for the pure rage carved onto your face like you’re some Halloween mask, he would pounce over like a wolf and fuck you on the couch. Except you’re practically breathing out fire through your nose, absolutely seething, arms crossed at the sight of him.

“M-My died phon- My phone died.” He stutters out like a poor kindergarten boy explaining to his teacher that he’d left his homework at home but he promises he did it.

“How. Many. Times. Did. I. Tell. You. To. Pack. Your. Charger. In. Your. Fucking. Bag.” You grit each syllable out so hard that your jaw almost hurts. Gulping, Taehyung watches you shake your heels off and kick them away harder than you need to.

“I’m so so so sorry I forgot, Y/N. I got so carried away at the library, it just completely slipped my mind.” It’s extremely brave of him, you have to say, for him to take those long strides towards you.

“You forgot? We literally were texting about it this afternoon! How the fuck can you forget? It’s our friendship anniversary! We do this ever fucking year!” Taehyung flinches as your volume raises. You almost regret it. But then you remember how fucking cold and embarrassed you were, waiting outside for a whole hour for his dumb ass to show up.

Every year, the two of you like to celebrate the night you had first met at the club. It’s a tradition for you to go to this club together and have a blast of a night, just the two of you, no inviting other friends, no sleeping with anyone else, and then end it with chicken and beer at the local 24hr Korean fried chicken place. It’s tradition!

And because Taehyung just so happen to have coursework due at midnight tonight, he had spent the whole day at the library rushing his project and promised to meet you there. It wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed your mind that he would be late; you had had an inkling that he would somehow goof it up and maybe show up 20 minutes past 11 or something. But you didn’t know that he would forget about it entirely.

Fucking ouch.

“Hey, I’m really honestly so tremendously awfully,” he inhales, “extremely terribly immensely appallingly very very sorry. I’m sorry. I fucked up and I have no excuse.”

You stare at him, hand gripping the plastic bag containing something that he doesn’t deserve but you got for him anyway. Fuck the frown lines you’re going to get, you’re gonna frown as much as you fucking can at him. He’s got those wide apologetic puppy eyes, trying to convey his genuine contrite and guilt.

Fuck his stupid puppy eyes.

“Okay. Good night.” You heedlessly toss the bag at him, watching him fumble to catch it in surprise as you walk past him to you room, purposely not making any more eye contact.

To your relief but also annoyance, he’s too busy revealing the contents of the bag to chase after your heel. You don’t slam your door, but you do shut it loud enough to convey how much you’re fuming.

God, you feel like an idiot.

You were just standing there in front of the club, waiting for an hour. So many people you know walked by as well, asking you how come you’re not going in yet. You should have just went in with them.

Taehyung is infuriating sometimes. On good days, he’s cute and ditsy, on bad days, he’s clumsy, incapable, forgetful, careless, unreliable and absent-minded. It really is as if you’re his mother sometimes.

Disgruntled, you flop onto your bed face first, mentally swearing your stupid roommate in six different languages. Then comes the timid knock on the door you were expecting. You ignore it. You hear his muffled throat-clearing, “Y/N… Can I come in?”

You want to ignore him. You want to ignore him so badly. But there’s just something about his boyish innocence that has his claws embedded into you. You sigh, cursing your soft spot for him, and go to open the door.

“Wh-“

You’re silenced when he enshrouds you in his embrace, his honey scent permeating into your mind and making you unable to resist sinking into him. You give yourself credit for being able to not reciprocate the hug. But as he walks you back into your room into your bed, your head buried in his shoulder, his hands clutching your back the way he holds his teddy bear Kimchi when he sleeps, your own arms are itching to circle his neck. The plastic bag dangles from his elbow, swinging at your every step back

With his weight on top of you, you fall onto the mattress. Or more like he forces you to fall onto the mattress, his body propped up over you by his two arms on either side of your face.

“I’m so sorry.”

You refuse to look at him.

“You got me chicken and beer on your way home?” The noisy crinkle of the plastic bag as he takes out the takeaway you had bought for him despite being absolutely livid is vexing.

You should’ve just consumed it all yourself. Why did you even get it for him?

“Yeah, figured you’d forget to eat since you were at the library all day. Plus, unlike some people, I don’t forget our annual friendship traditions.” Grumbling, you fix your eyes on him, determined to coax more guilt from him. Yet instead, it backfires because you feel a warmth in your chest, urging you to forgive him.

“Fuck. Okay, that’s it, you’re definitely my soulmate.” He is cursing at himself in his head, you can tell. As he pushes his hair out of his face in frustration, you want to kiss him stupid. The fuck is wrong with you?

“Ha. Don’t call me your soulmate if you can’t even remember our anniversary.” Puckering your bottom lip out at him, you say. “I’ll kick you in the balls if you don’t get off me.”

Taehyung laughs. It’s a sound that threatens to dissolve your anger, a smile queuing impatiently at your lips. Don’t break. “You wouldn’t. You just went all the way to to get me fried chicken and beer even after I stood you up on our anniversary. You’re secretly so soft, don’t even deny it.”

“Shut it, dickface.” You attempt to roll away from under him but he cages you between his arms. “Look how you take advantage of my kindness towards you. You don’t deserve me.”

“I knowwww I don’t deserve you. I will do all the grovelling for as long as you want me. I’ll do laundry for the rest of the month. I’ll wash the dishes every time. I’ll buy you bubble tea any time you want me to. Pleaseeeee.” Whining, he squeezes your cheeks between his two unholy massive palms and nuzzles into your neck.

Ugh, you’re so sick of him. He’s impossible.

“Firstly, the last time you did laundry, you stained all our white clothes pink.” You yank him by his hair off your neck. “Secondly, I don’t trust you with the dishes because you’ve already broken my favourite mug. And third, no take backs on the bubble tea.”

He smiles at you sheepishly. He knows how incompetent he is, how he is honestly a twenty-something year old toddler. A man child.

When he doesn’t say anything, plainly staring at you with his cheeks risen so high from his smile, you finally give in and giggle.

God, why is your roommate so annoying?

“Haha! Got you! You can’t stay mad at me.” Taehyung shakes you by the head triumphantly like a baby playing, borderline trying to decapitate, his doll.

“Let go! I’m getting whiplash!” The laughter sputters out of you traitorously.

“Let me kiss your pouty lips then.”

You hate that you let him, and you hate how just like that, you’re not mad at your best friend anymore. As he kisses you so softly and apologetically, you melt into him, forgetting how rudely you were cursing him an hour ago.

Later, you two eat the Korean fried chicken and drink the cans of beer on your bed, reminiscing about your early days after initially moving in together, laughing at all those weird awkward encounters.

It’s your friendship anniversary, so you don’t have sex tonight. But ironically you can’t stop kissing as he cuddles you to sleep.

.

05/11/2019

© Copyright 2019

[telehxhtrash]

TELE, I'LL PROTECT YOU, YOU'RE SO ADORABLE (thanks for answer my other ask!). Do you think there is a chance that Killua will be controlled again by Illumi? I imagine that if it ever happens, it could be the moment when Gon's love finally reaches Killua totally and makes Illumi realize that love exists and that nothing can stop it, and from there, they started to finally open up to each other. I think Illumi can be the key character to prove how real their love can be lol i have gay headcanons!

OMG HELLO HI !! thank you so much ure wayyy too nice ahhhhh ;_;

omg i really hope illumi never gets his disgusting hands back on Killua tbh, but honestly, since he’s actively looking for nanika rn, i feel like there’s gonna be a confrontation at some point. but i would absolutely love it, if like you said, Illumi could be the one to pretty much canon killugon, because it’d be the ultimate proof !! 

illumi has never once recognized his brother’s ability to make friends, let alone LOVE someone, he always thought the one Killua loves the most was him because he’s so delusional and out of touch with everything Killua is.. and making him realize Killua’s love for Gon would be very poetic.

Just imagine a scene where Gon is held hostage by Illumi or something, Killua pretty much having a breakdown (even worse than his breakdown with Palm), crying, screaming, begging and pleading Illumi to just let Gon go. And Illumi looks at him and says something along the lines of “Oh, do you really love him that much, Killu?” and that’s the moment where Killua openly admits his feelings for the first time, with Gon at a hearing range, and he just says with a voice full of confidence and bravery for once “Yeah. Yeah I love him.” 

And just like Killua opened Palm’s eyes with his breakdown on how much he loves Gon, he would also be able to open Illumi’s eyes, and while I don’t believe Illumi would instantly become a good guy, I think he could have the capacity to let Gon go for Killua’s sake and say something like “I’ll let you play with him for a while, then” - and maybe that could help spark a change in the Illumi/Killua dynamic 

But I do agree that Illumi accepting, recognizing and emphasizing that Killua loves Gon more than him would be a beautiful way to showcase just how much Killua loves Gon. 

thank you so much for this ask because I never wouldve imagined a scenario like this but it works so well ??? so thank you so much !! and please feel free to share ur gay headcanons im a sucker for those fdjgnjkdfg

[thethousandyearwitch]

The Show Must Go On! - A Youtuber AU you didn’t want and didn’t need

Hisoka Morrow, italian Makeup Youtuber, enjoys his life in the comfort and occasional drama of his profession. But nothing brings more drama into his life than the eldest son of the Zoldyck fashion magazine empire.

Meanwhile, aspiring australian Twitch Streamer Gon Freecs forms a special bond to a Speedrunner commonly going by "Kil".

Chapter 3

FF.net link - AO3 link

Illumi woke up to shouting. No matter how often this happened, it would startle him each and every time, and prompted him to jump out of bed and try to locate the source of commotion. After he brushed his hair messily out of his face, he approached the dining room. He leaned against the doorframe, peeking into the large room. His mother was seated in her usual spot at the large table, clutching her hands over her mouth. On the opposite side, Illumis younger brother had pushed his chair away, standing up to gesture and shout wildly at his mother.

“I am not a little kid! No one else gets their ~technology privileges~ revoked! Just admit that you’re too bad of a mother to properly keep me under the control you so badly want!” His voice was already starting to crack under the strain. Illumi thought about interfering, though the curiosity of observing how his mother would try to keep the situation under control won him over.

Kikyo Zoldyck was the perfect matriarch, ruling over the English estate with an iron grip, while her Husband was either in their Japanese estate for business matters, or on ‘hunting trips’ with his father. She always insisted on perfect presentation of herself and her children, Illumi wasn’t sure if he had ever seen her repeat one outfit combination. It was a shame that the medical sunglasses she had to wear at all times ruined the harmony of her outfits almost all times. Because not even the perfect matriarch can avoid medical problems. Thus, Kikyo had to learn how to properly treat her oversensitive eyes, taking most of her eyesight with it. On top of that, her immune system seemed to weaken with each passing day. Illumi, as the eldest child, got to investigate some of her medical records to ensure her safety in case of an emergency. He had learned how to dress her wounds that would re-open frequently, how to apply eyedrops in case she wasn’t able to, and which medication was for which ailment.

Illumi recognized the exhaustion that was quickly overtaking his mother, the way her face had been drained of all colour, and her entire body seemed to shake under the tension. He was about to intervene before her conditioned worsened, when she spoke up again, “I just want to do what is best for you! It will be good for you to have a break from all that bad energy the computer gives you.”

“The only bad energy I get is from this fucking family!”

The swear echoed through the large room, and for a few seconds there was only silence as a mother confronted the reality of her precious son having entered yet another teenage rebellion. Illumi observed his mothers face closely, as he thought again about whether he should intervene or let her tend to her motherly duties herself.

It took a couple more seconds for Kikyo to stand up, straighten herself, and raise her voice, unshaking, unwavering. “You are going to your room this instance, young man. I will have your brother remove your computer from your room in half an hour.” Consequent, how surprising.

The young Zoldyck kicked against a table leg, before running out of Illumis field of view. The last thing he heard was “I am going to drink a hundred Energy drinks and puke on everything you love!”

With a sigh Kikyo sat back down in her chair and rested her face gently in the palms of her hands. Illumi took this silence as the best opportunity to enter the room and approached his mother's side.

"Mother, good morning."

"Oh, Illumi, what am I going to do?" She wailed again, as if this argument was the greatest tragedy to befall the family.

"He was such a good little boy just a few years ago. Now he swears, and yells, and that same twinkle of rage in his eyes, just like his father."

He is also my father, Illumi thought, though that minor detail didn't seem important to the conversation.

"I will take away his personal Computer after getting dressed."

"Illumi, you are such a good child for your mom, never disappoint her, alright?" She took his hand and pressed it firmly. The young man shuddered at the contact, it was so easy to forget how cold and thin her hands were, as if the bones and tendons could snap under any more pressure. He rested his free hand on top of hers, reassuring, comforting, he thought, having seen people do that in movies and shows. Real comfort and contact were of course a rarity in the Zoldyck family. After Killuas birth, Kikyo would pour all her overbearing love onto him, only to have it be rejected, repeating the process with slightly more success after Kallutos birth. The children would tolerate each other, though interaction was kept to the bare minimum. And though Illumi was sure that his parents were in love, at least to the extent that he understood what that meant, he could not recall the last time he witnessed them exchange any form of endearment.

"Of course, mother." With that, he broke the contact, and returned to his room. He traded his pyjamas for comfortable black slacks, and a loose white button down with light green roll-tabs. The eldest Zoldyck child took his time brushing his well-groomed black hair, fixed his collar, and gave himself a last look down in the mirror.

As he walked down the long hallway of the second floor of the mansion, he could already hear the loud music his younger brother was angrily blasting, considering if it were worth it to go back and grab earplugs.  Their mother was right, Killuas tantrums had picked up the last couple of years, and it only seemed to have gotten worse. Show dogs with bad temper get temporary Hormone chips implanted, he thought, I wonder if there is an equivalent for humans.

The door to Killuas room wore its signs of anger and emotions through patched-up holes and sloppy paint cover-ups. Illumi turned the doorknob, though he already expected it to be locked.

“Killu, open the door.”

The music turned louder, and Illumi scrunched his nose in frustration. “Killu.”

“Piss off!” The young boys voice strained against the loud music, barely reaching over the aggressive lyrics of a middle-aged man complaining about his life and whatever he deemed wrong with it.

Enough with the polite formalities, Illumi thought as he fumbled in his pockets for the master key he had been entrusted with a couple years prior. Effortlessly the lock clicked open, and the knob turned once more… But the door did not budge.

Another turn of the knob, push of the door, with just slightly more force, and a small gap formed for just a second.

“Are you leaning against the door?” In fact, Killua forced his entire weight against the door. Illumi might have thought it was a cute attempt, if it hadn’t been directly intervening with his goals. So, he gave a more hearted push, which forced the door to open wider before it snapped shut again.

“Just leave me alone!”

“I will leave you alone once I have confiscated your Computer. This is your last chance to behave and let me in.”

“I’m going to set all your ugly new fabric on fire!”

Illumi sighed in frustration, before he pushed harder against the door in a swift motion, forcing it open despite Killuas best efforts to push against it. Quickly the young boy jumped in front of his computer, arms spread as a last-ditch barrier. Illumi approached slowly, his head tilted slightly to the side. “Killu, you misbehaved and now you have to accept the consequences. This is going to be a good lesson for you, you can spend your time being more productive.”

Killua straightened his back and returned his older brothers emotionless stare. “You don’t know what’s good for me! No one here does!”

“You don’t know what’s good for yourself either, you are a child. In a couple of years, when you lead the company, you’ll be very thankful to me for this.” Without much of an effort, he shoved his younger brother aside, and started to unplug the computers various wires. Almost immediately after he had been pushed away, Killua started grabbing and punching at his brother’s hands and arms in a vain effort to stop him. “Illumi, please, don’t!” His voice started to crack and break under the pressure it has already been under the entire morning. “Can you just for once not do whatever the hell mom tells you to do, and actually help me? Please?”

Illumi lifted the tower of the computer and straightened his back, facing his brother again. A surprisingly gentle smiled creeped up his lips.

“Killu, I am helping you. And your future. And the future of the Zoldyck family.” He started to turn to the door and leave, though not before he could hear Killua scream out in frustration,

“I hate you, you fucking lap-dog!”

But of course, Illumi knew that wasn’t true. Killua couldn’t hate him. They were brothers, and there is nothing that could sever a bond like that. Even after Killua had already set fire to his brother’s fabric stock before. Even though the times he would tell him he hates him started to outweigh the times he said he loved him. Even now, Illumi having taken away something that seemed so absurdly important to Killua, he was sure his little brother could never truly despise him.

As is with everything that the children weren't supposed to have, the Computer tower got locked away inside Silva Zoldycks study. Illumi couldn't place the feeling, but something felt off about no longer having this rule apply to him, not only because there was never any reason to punish him this way, but also because he had access to this otherwise off-limits area.

Fucking Lap-dog.

The grandfather clock in the entrance hall of the mansion struck 9 am. Technically he was still on schedule, Illumi didn't want to risk any more distractions that could make him late. He grabbed the neatly packed black suitcase and leather bag from his room, double checking if he had packed all of his samples, extra fabrics, and the likes, before returning to the dining room.

Kikyo had restored her makeup from any flaws the earlier breakdown had caused. She idly reviewed articles that third-party journalists had send in, in the hopes that they might make it into the next issue of the highly appraised fashion magazine. Her protective black eyewear had been gently pushed down the slope of her nose, revealing the stinging red, bloodshot eyes underneath.

“Mother, I am leaving for the airport shortly.” He kept his voice low while he slowly approached her side. Kikyo discarded the article she was holding into one of the neat piles she had made, presumably one pile for rejected articles, one for second review, before she faced her son.

“How long are you going to be away for, again?” It almost sounded accusatory.

“About four to five days, depending on the flight availability, and if I can make new clients after the show.”

“Try to make it four days, I need you back here to handle some interviews for the September Issue.”

Illumi hated being on a tight schedule. Though he was good at working under pressure, he still did not like it. “Can’t Milluki tr- “

“Milluki is extremely busy editing, Illumi. You shouldn’t try to push your work onto your brother like that, just because you want to have a longer vacation.”

It’s not a vacation, it’s a reveal of a personal collection that I earn my own money with and make independent clients at and that I worked day and night on and also-

“I will do my best to be home as soon as possible, mother.”

“Good. Try to represent our family well at the show.” And with that, Kikyo picked another article from the large stack, seemingly satisfied with the parting conversation.

Illumi grabbed his bags and made his way towards the entrance hall. A chauffeur already stood ready to drive him to the airport, and from a glance to the clock he knew his schedule was still intact. In his head he marked off his to-do list, double and triple checking if he had gotten everything he needed. Tickets, wallet, samples, customary gi- where is it? Hastily he started rummaging through the leather bag.

“Looking for something?” Killua appeared in the doorway behind him, carelessly throwing a small plastic package from one hand to the other. “Since when do you like red liquorice?”

Illumi scanned the package, relieved when he spotted the red ribbon still neatly tied around it. “It’s not for me.”

“You’re buying candy for your clown-friend?” Killua scoffed.

“He’s not my friend, and not a clown.” Illumi tilted his head as he blankly stared Killua down. “Can you give that back to me now? It is just a customary gift.”

“If you give me my computer back, you’ll get the clowns candy back.”

The air turned cool as Illumi slowly approached his younger brother, head tilting from one side to the other, his voice kept low.

“Killu, you are not in the position to propose trades like that.” He rested a hand on his brothers’ shoulder, leaned down to whisper easily in his ear. “I did you a favour by not reminding mother of your phone. Don’t make me regret being kind to you.”

And as he felt his brother freeze under his touch, he grabbed the candy with ease, and turned back around.

“I’ll see you in a couple of days, Killu. Study good.”

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

 Hisoka lounged on his fainting couch, the midday sun coated his living room in a comfortable orange shine through his white balcony drapes. The temptation of a nap settled sweetly on his eyelids, still worn out from another night spent editing and releasing a new video. The pressure of trying to stay on schedule during a fashion week wasn’t necessarily something Hisoka looked forward to, so he only hoped that this new drama video would keep his fans at bay for a couple of days, something about a doll-maker channel who seemed to have a god complex.

Just as he was about to give into the warm comfort of sleep, the vibration of his phone pulled him back.

" Bellisimo <3: Will arrive in about 10 minutes. "

"Hisoka: Yes, your majesty! "

Now wide awake, the artist stretched his tired limbs, and pulled himself from the couch. Once he had made his way to the kitchen, preparations for his friend’s arrival had to be made. Out from the fridge he took a small, colourful box, tied shut at the handle with an elegant black ribbon. Not room temperature, but not cold out of the fridge either. Neatly, he placed a white porcelain plate and a cake fork on the kitchen island. The last step, of course, was to boil water and wait.

Waiting wasn't one of Hisokas specialties though. He paced around the apartment like a mad animal in a zoo, only stopping once in a while to re-arrange knickknacks on shelves and desks. The anticipation tingled in his fingertips.

The sound of a car coming to a hold. Hisoka grabbed the bag of black tea and dropped it in the water.

The snap of multiple car doors. He slowly poured the fresh tea into a clean white cup and placed it next to the plate.

 Ding ♪

 There was no need to even ask who it was over the intercom, all he needed to do was activate the buzzer for the main door and linger at the apartment door for just a couple more seconds. He listened to the footsteps ascending the stairs. Only one pair; how rude to make your Chauffeur wait.

 Knock Knock

Hisoka swung the door enthusiastically open, the excitement to see the other almost too much to handle.

Blank, dark eyes greeted him. Illumis hair was, as usual, combed to a silky perfection. Hisoka was just a couple of centimetres taller than him, but he still felt an urge to tower over the other, to hunt him into a corner like small prey.

But instead he stepped aside, gave the other one enough room to enter the apartment. This last test of patience had become practiced, but never seemed to get easier. He wanted to greet and touch and release the tension tugging at all his muscles and nerves-

But not before Illumi has settled in. That was the rule.

So, he waited and watched as the other one dropped a leather brief case next to the kitchen island, and seated himself in front of the table set. Gracefully Illumi lifted the cup of tea to his lips, and he took a small sip, eyes closed and composed.

Full of expectation Hisoka leaned closer towards his visitor, who in turned tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, opening the dark void to his eyes once more.

"Acceptable."

Immediately Hisoka lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Illumi. "It's so nice to have you back, darling! Is the flavour alright? I bought it from a store in Florence and they promised it would be up to British taste."

"It is tolerable- Hisoka let go before I burn your face with this." Illumi struggled his way out of the embrace and pulled the wrinkles out of his shirt. "But next time you will have to let the tea sit longer in the water before serving, so that the flavour can fully develop."

“The day I make the perfect tea for you, I deserve a wild celebration.” The makeup artist waved his hand in a celebratory gesture and took a seat next to his friend-who-doesn’t-call-him-friend. “You hungry?”

Illumi bend over the table and tugged at the ribbon that kept the colourful box at the centre of the table closed. The folds of the box came undone to reveal a beautiful chocolate roll cake, with white-chocolate flower décor neatly placed on top. Hisoka held out a knife for him to take, and the treat was cut into in one smooth motion. A last test of approval.

Hisoka watched closely as Illumi took the first bite. The way his eyes closed as soon as the fork came to his lips. The almost-unnoticeable roll of his head in consideration. How he bopped his fork up and down. Everything about Illumi Zoldyck screamed grace and life and anticipation for every passing second. And in this moment, he was all his.

“It’s very good.”

“I would have made cake myself, but I didn’t feel like poisoning you, my dear.”

“Appreciated. I have a gift for you, as thanks for your hospitality.” Illumi bend down and grabbed his leather bag. While he shuffled around in it, Hisoka lured over his shoulder, with the smile of an excited child on Christmas morning. “Continue breathing down my neck and you won’t get anything.”

Not wanting to risk missing out on the oh-so-rare show of affection Illumi promised, he leaned back. “Do you want me to pretend to be coy and not want your gift, or can I just greedily rip it from your hands?”

The black-haired man turned around, and presented a small plastic package, tied shut with a red ribbon. It took less than a second to recognize what it was.

“Just take it. You mentioned once that you like it, and you’ve significantly improved at being a host for these meetings.”

Hisoka took the present from the others hands, far more gentle than necessary, and he snickered. “This is the strangest friendship I’ve been a part of.”

“We are not friends.” Ouch.

“This is the strangest... partnership?”

Illumi rolled his eyes, “If you want to call it that. But if you tag me in a video again as your ‘partner’ again, you’ll never see me again. I don’t need more congratulatory-slash-death-threat letters.”

“Fair enough!” Hisoka jumped off his chair and circled around the other one. “But mentioning videos, how about we start recording for our collab? I am practically dying to finally try on my new suit.”

Illumi sighed, brushed some stray hairs behind his ear, and dug through his leather bag again, only this time to retrieve a neatly folded, string-tied package. “Id suggest wearing a plain black shirt under the jacket.”

Hisoka grinned, “What about- “

“You are going to wear a shirt under it.” Ouch, too fast.

Without another word, he took the clothes from Illumi, and disappeared into his bedroom. As he ripped at the neat packaging, he tried to think of a snarky way to make fun of this overly neat way to transport clothing. But all those thoughts vanished when he actually held the clothes in his hands, gentle fingertips that ran over firm fabric and neat seams. The pictures in the email didn’t give this piece the justice it deserved. The different coloured card-suits didn’t stand out too harshly against the white jeans fabric but were defined enough to be recognized for what they are.

And once he pulled the fabric on his body, corrected the collar of the jacket, and stretched a bit to get a feel… He was mesmerized. The mirror fixed to his closet door couldn’t even capture the feeling in his chest that threatened to punch out his sternum.

Hisoka practically sprinted back into the open kitchen and struck rapid poses. “Do I look as good as how I feel, darling?”

“I told you to wear a shirt, maggot.”  

[allucka]

gon and knuckle for the hc thing? ily!!!

MY BOYS 🤧 also i hate the term 'otp' so i changed it

gon

1: sexuality headcanon 

hes bi !!

2: favorite pairing 

i feel ljke i dont need to say it but killu//gon

3: brotp 

AUGH HIM AND LEORIO

4: notp 

literally him with any adults

5: first headcanon that pops into my head 

since he grew up on an island where a lot of sailors were in and out he definitely picked up on the swearing pretty early on. mito had to invest in a swear jar when gon was 7

6: one way in which I relate to this character

I ALSO DONT UNDERSTAND MATH !!

7: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

idk if this counts but when he talks to h*soka or palm im just like. dont do that.

8: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

HES BABY!!!!!!

knuckle

1: sexuality headcanon 

hes gay !!!!

2: favorite pairing 

bitch... we're fucking iguanas now . knuckle/meleoron is just. so funny

3: brotp 

him and shoot !!

4: notp 

i dont. know of any other pairings involving him?. so ig if it's not meleoron or shoot dont talk to me

5: first headcanon that pops into my head 

hes definitely a romantic comedy kind of guy!

6: one way in which I relate to this character

oh bitch... dogs just make me 😭 and im also Very Emotional

7: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

nothing i love him

8: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

uh neither ! BUT I DO LOVE HIM !!!!

[liberatingflame]

Can I do a four for one for the character thing and do: Hisoka, Illumi, Gon, and Killua?

SEND ME A CHARACTER AND I’LL DO THIS;

Well, you see, you can do that and also I would now die for you. It’s long, so it’s getting a read more.

Hisoka

Sexuality Headcanon: PanGender Headcanon: Trans ManA ship I have with said character: Hiso///IlluA BROTP I have with said character: Y’know what? Kurapika & Hisoka. It's amusing.A NOTP I have with said character: Actual romantic relations between Machi & him.A random headcanon: He has freckles and can just slap some makeup on with texture surprise if he wants to. General Opinion over said character: ♥️

Illumi

Sexuality Headcanon: Assassin (Gay)Gender Headcanon: Assassin (Trans Man)A ship I have with said character: Hiso//IlluA BROTP I have with said character: He should have friends outside of his family, but does he? No.A NOTP I have with said character: Let's just. Please No Terrible Ships.A random headcanon: Nen is actively taught to the manipulators in the family because it isn't as important that they're self-sufficient, explaining Kalluto’s amazing use of it so young, so Illumi’s also known nen since he was very young.General Opinion over said character: ♥️

Gon

Sexuality Headcanon: BiGender Headcanon: DemiboyA ship I have with said character: Killu//GonA BROTP I have with said character: Alluka & GonA NOTP I have with said character: Any of the ones with adults or his (significantly) older friends. Including, but not limited to, “Don't touch Gon, Palm.”A random headcanon: He’s got more of a tan than he's colored with normally because he's an island boy who is outside 24/7. Also, he likes his dad.General Opinion over said character: I love Gon and I fully understand wanting to fight the child, he's incredible and terrifying and impressive as hell.

Killua

Sexuality Headcanon: GayGender Headcanon: He's a ¿boy?A ship I have with said character: Killu///GonA BROTP I have with said character: Killua & IkalgoA NOTP I have with said character: Most of my NoTPs in hxh are the ones I have moral objections to?? Don't ship incest or pedophelia. No matter how ripped the 12 year old is, he's still 12. A random headcanon: He showed signs of being a transmuter and the whole family was just so glad. Based on Zeno and Silva, transmuters are either preferred as heirs or you have to be a transmuter to be an heir.General Opinion over said character: Killua is the best character anyone has ever made and I’m willing to fight anyone about that.

[killugonficlibrary]

full count by nogoodalone ( T | 73,866 | 13/13 )

Killua Zoldyck’s carefully crafted strategy to graduate early was all going according to plan. Until the beginning of his last scheduled year, when his academic advisor decided to share that he was missing all of his required athletics credits. And that all gym classes were full for the year. And, no, scanning into the workout center once a week could not count for credit.

What could count for full credit, though, was being a practicing athlete on a university sports team for a minimum of two semesters. Great news for the men’s baseball coach whose team desperately needed a new pitcher and was willing to give opposite-of-athletic Killua a shot. No hitting required, minimal fielding promised, and an unexpectedly killer curveball later, and Killua had a #99 jersey with his last name on it.

The issue? Killua knew nothing about baseball. Luckily for him, team captain and catcher Gon Freecss had selflessly volunteered to teach Killua everything he needed to know about the game outside of practices.

Luckily for him, Killua loved study sessions. And baseball pants. And maybe the fact that things didn’t always go according to plan.

~~~

a modern uni & baseball killugon au | for the 2023hxhbb

[decembercamiecherries]

Chapter word count: 2,883 -> Total story word count: 5,706

Chapter summary:

Killua thought the hardest part of finding his soulmate would be, well, finding his soulmate. He never really gave thought to what would come after, to how his family might react to meeting said soulmate, to how Killua would feel upon meeting his soulmate’s family. 

As it turns out, Killua really should have worried more about the after-finding-his-soulmate stuff. Because the first thing Gon says when they get out of school that fateful day is—

“I want you to meet Aunt Mito!”

Happy birthday Killua! Never thought I would write a third chapter for this fic but here we are. This is part three of this drabble, which takes place in a universe where two people can only kiss if they’re soulmates!

-o0o-

Killua thought the hardest part of finding his soulmate would be, well, finding his soulmate. He never really gave thought to what would come after, to how his family might react to meeting said soulmate, to how Killua would feel upon meeting his soulmate’s family.

As it turns out, Killua really should have worried more about the after-finding-his-soulmate stuff. Because the first thing Gon says when they get out of school that fateful day is—

“I want you to meet Aunt Mito!”

The cheerful statement makes Killua trip over his own two feet. His head snaps up and he sees Gon’s radiant beam, dimples popping out on freckled cheeks.

Killua’s heart stutters. “Wh-What?”

“Aunt Mito! You know, my mom?”

If Killua wasn’t so petrified, he would have rolled his eyes. Yes, he knows Aunt Mito. He knows Gon’s mother as the aunt who adopted him when his dad ran out in the middle of the night, the kind woman who always packs extra cookies in Gon’s lunchbox for Killua to steal, the person Gon loves more than anyone else in the world.

He knows exactly who Aunt Mito is. And he’s terrified of meeting her.

Gon must have caught onto Killua’s fear. He squeezes Killua’s fingers tightly between his own as they walk down the sidewalk, and says softly, “Don’t worry, Killua. She already loves you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because,” Gon says simply, “I already talk about you all the time. She’s wanted me to bring you home for ages.”

Killua’s cheeks warm. He struggles to come up with something to say, but all he can focus on is the silent strength of Gon’s grip, the calloused texture of his palm against Killua’s. The setting sun is warm on his back and today has already turned out to be the most incredible and unbelievable day Killua has ever had. Meeting his soulmate’s mom can’t change that, right?

“Okay,” Killua finally says and Gon’s grin widens.

-o0o-

Mito Freecss is a short woman with short auburn hair and light brown eyes. She looks nothing like Gon, but radiates a certain kind of warmth and love that leaves Killua with zero doubt that she and Gon are related by blood. She looks positively thrilled when Gon introduces Killua, but her smile drops clean off her face when Gon tells her why he’s finally bringing Killua home.

For a few long, agonizing moments, there’s nothing but silence. Killua tries his best not to squirm as Mito gapes at them both. It’s impossible for him to tell what she’s thinking, but Gon doesn’t look too bothered—he just keeps a firm, steady gaze on Mito, his hand wrapped stubbornly around Killua’s.

Mito closes her mouth and swallows thickly. “Y-You...You’re sure about this, Gon?” she asks weakly.

Gon nods. “Yes. We found out during our lunch break today.”

Her eyes drift over their bruised and bandaged faces, and she scowls. “Is that how you got hurt?”

Gon winces, his calm aura starting to crack. “Um. Well, maybe—”

“Gon.”

“—I—I mean—” Gon falters under Mito’s glare and Killua’s lip twitches, “—yeah...some kids were running at each other, so.” Gon shrugs. “We kind of...tried it, too?”

Mito lets out a long, painful-sounding sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Gon, how many times have I told you to be careful.”

“Not enough,” Killua blurts out before he can hold himself back.

Horror sets in as Mito and Gon both look at him. Killua’s throat closes up as Mito’s gaze bores into him and panic makes his gut squirm. Shit. He hadn’t meant to insult his soulmate’s mother five minutes after meeting her—

But then a grin breaks out across Mito’s face. Killua is so relieved to see her smiling instead of throwing him out the back door that his knees go weak. Gon squeezes his hand again, his grip growing borderline painful.

Mito asks Killua, “Does that mean you will be the one to make sure he is careful?”

Killua shrugs. His heart is still pounding, but his tone is casual and thankfully steady as he says, “I don’t think anyone can make Gon be careful. It’s just not who he is.” Killua pauses, then adds, “But I promise not to let him do anything too stupid.”

“Hey!” Gon protests with a pout. But his mother’s grin is growing wider by the second and her eyes sparkle just like Gon’s do when he’s got an idea and won’t take no for an answer.

“That’s all I can hope for in Gon’s soulmate,” Mito says warmly. She holds out her arms to Killua—

“Welcome to the Freecss family, Killua.”

-o0o-

Introducing Gon to Killua’s family is a very different experience.

Kilkua really doesn’t want to introduce them to Gon at all. It’s not like his family would ever find out about Gon—not with Alluka shipped off to some private boarding school, and Milluki already graduated and attending a prodigious IT college in the middle of the country. He and Gon could exist peacefully for a while, with Killua getting to know Gon and Gon getting to know Killua, all without the unnecessary burden of the Zoldyck family checking in on them every other second.

Gon, however, has different plans.

“But I want to meet your family, Killua,” Gon insists for the hundredth time. “They’re a part of you, like Aunt Mito is a part of me. And we’re gonna be together forever, so I want to know all parts of you!”

Killua tries—and fails—to ignore the implication of that sentence. Gon’s intentions are well, but it’s still strange for Killua to think of Gon as, well, his. As Killua’s. Gon belongs to Killua in ways that Killua only ever dreamed of before, and he feels beyond lucky to have this dream of his come true.

So he caves to Gon, because he really can’t say no whenever Gon turns those big puppy-dog eyes on him. It’s only a week after they discover they are soulmates when Killua leads Gon up a beautiful stone-decorated driveway, their hands tightly clasped together. At the top of the hill is a handsome mansion Killua loathes to call home.

He gives Gon one last, pleading look. “Are you sure you want to—?”

“Yes, Killua. I’m sure.”

Killua inwardly groans and turns from Gon’s stubborn face to reluctantly ring the doorbell. A series of booming gongs ring from inside. They echo like the sound of doom, and it makes Killua want to shrink into himself, to yank Gon back down the stone driveway and far, far away from this too-cold and too-silent mansion—

And then the door opens and Gotoh is impassively staring down at them.

“...hi, Gotoh,” Killua says awkwardly.

“Master Killua,” the butler responds with a bow. Killua doesn’t miss the way his eyes drift over to Gon and their still-clasped hands. “You’ve brought a guest home.”

“Yeah, uh…” Killua looks at Gon, who’s beaming so brightly that it’s almost painful to look at him. “Gon, this is Gotoh. He’s one of my family butlers.”

Gon gasps. “You have butlers?”

Killua can almost hear Gotoh’s eyebrows raise. He forces himself to take a calming breath—he should have prepared Gon for this, why is he so stupid—and says, “My family has butlers. They’re mostly used to guilt me into doing homework, though.”

“If you simply applied yourself, Master Killua—”

“Don’t—” Killua cuts Gotoh off with a narrow-eyed glare, “—call me that. Where’s Mother and Father, are they home?”

Gotoh bows again. “They are in the dining room. Shall I lead you to them?”

“No, it’s okay. I know the way.”

Gotoh nods and moves out of the doorway. Killua is quick to drag Gon inside and through the many corridors and grand rooms that make up the Zoldyck Mansion. Killua can tell Gon is gaping at everything in sight, completely in awe. It’s nothing like Gon’s house, which is small and warm and full of priceless memories. Killua’s house is cold and empty and every step they take reverberates in their ears.

Killua is almost relieved when they finally make it to the dining room.

“Mother, Father,” he says as he takes a cautious step into the light. His parents look up simultaneously from their seats on uncomfortably stiff couches, and a wide, painful-looking smile breaks across his mother’s face.

“Killu! Good, I was starting to wonder where you’d gotten off to. You should have arrived home ages ago!”

“I was busy,” Killua says shortly and his mother pouts.

“Who is that behind you, son?” his Father asks. Father’s voice is calm and rumbling, like a distant, warning roll of thunder on a dark night. There’s no use lying to him—his blue eyes are the same shade as Killua and Alluka’s, but ten times as piercing—so Killua grits his teeth and gently tugs Gon forward to stand at his side.

Killua says cautiously, “This is, uh, Gon. Gon Freecss. He’s a friend from school.”

“Hi!” Gon says cheerfully.

Silence. Killua knows all too well what his parents think of ‘friends’, and there’s no way they miss his and Gon’s clasped hands any more that Gotoh did. Mother looks Gon up and down with a puzzled smile on her face, while Father’s expression is nothing short of stony.

“...and why did you bring him here, Killu?” Mother asks, ignoring Gon as if he is nothing more than a stray dog that trailed Killua home.

“I wanted you to meet him.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Mother’s tone is starting to grow short with forced politeness. “But why?”

Killua swallows. His heart is pounding again, just like it had when Gon introduced him to Aunt Mito. He wonders if Gon can feel him shaking, and if that’s why he starts squeezing Killua’s hand so tightly.

“Well, he’s...he’s…”

“Killua,” his Father says, and Killua tries to gather his courage—

“We’re soulmates.”

All heads turn to stare at Gon. Killua’s eyes are blown wide, heart still racing. But Gon isn’t looking at him. His golden-brown stare is focused solely on Killua’s parents, his voice steady and sure. A surge of affection rushes through Killua in a wave.

“Excuse me?” Killua’s mother says weakly. “What did you just say?”

“Me and Killua are soulmates,” Gon repeats. “Killua’s already met my mother, so...I wanted to meet you. I asked Killua to bring me here.”

More silence.

Mother turns to Killua. The fake smile from before is back in place. “Killu, is this your new attempt to make us accept your friends?”

Killua can feel Gon’s shock in the way his hand stiffens in Killua’s. He wasn’t expecting flat-out denial, Killua is sure. But Killua isn’t surprised in the least.

“No, Mother.”

“Then why would you bring him before us and say such lies?” She gives a high-pitched, humorless laugh and Gon’s grip grows even tighter on Killua’s hand. “It’s not very funny, Killu.”

“It’s not a lie!” Gon says loudly. Killua can hear the anger building in his voice, how it shakes at the word ‘lie’. “Why would we lie about something like this?”

Killua mutters to him, “Because they don’t want to believe it.”

“Son.” Father is the one talking this time. Unlike Mother, he doesn’t look at all frazzled. Just weary. “How do you know this to be true?”

Killua quickly explains what happened last week on the high school field. Gon starts stroking the back of Killua’s hand with his thumb gently, as if he can lend Killua his strength through the movement alone. Killua thinks maybe it works because he manages to get through the entire story without cracking under his father’s intense stare or his mother’s frantic head-shaking.

His father might believe him. Killua doesn’t think his mother ever will, though. His parents wanted Killua’s soulmate to be from a grand and rich family, if he ever found them. They’d never expected Killua to find his life partner on a dusty field surrounded by snot-nosed high schoolers.

Killua’s mother lets out a hissing sound when Killua finishes. “I don’t believe it! How could you be so cruel to play with your mother’s heart like this, Killu? How could you!”

“He’s not lying, though!” Gon snarls as he takes a step forward. His eyes are flashing and his lips are twisted into a deep scowl, and Killua can tell that Gon’s frustration has finally built up enough to leak through his calm demeanor. “I don’t get it—he’s your son, why don’t you believe him?”

Father says with an air of disapproval, “Son or not, Killua has often told lies to get away with certain...standards.”

“What standards— ?”

“Gon, it’s fine,” Killua says and tugs Gon back to his side. He’d known they would react like this. Why had he listened to Gon when he said he wanted to meet Killua’s parents? “We should go.”

Gon frowns at him. “No, we can’t! They—They have to accept that we’re—”

Golden eyes suddenly light up. Gon lets go of Killua’s hands and cups Killua’s face.

Killua’s heart leaps into his throat and butterflies swarm in his chest. “Gon, what are you—?”

Gon doesn’t answer. Instead, he leans forward and kisses Killua soundly on the lips—right in front of Killua’s parents, eyes fluttering shut as if there’s no one else in the room or the universe besides the two of them.

Killua only distantly hears his mother’s horrified gasp and his father’s sharp intake of breath. His eyes are already closing and he’s kissing Gon back without thought or care, because—because how can he not kiss Gon? His soulmate’s lips are soft and warm, his calloused hands feel good on Killua’s flushed cheeks, and Killua thinks he could stand here forever, just letting Gon kiss him and melting into his embrace. When Gon kisses him, the world melts away and everything wrong rights itself. Kissing Gon is as simple and effortless as breathing, and Killua wouldn’t give him up for anything.

Because Gon is his, from the tips of his spiked hair all the way down to his dirt-smudged sneakers, and nothing will ever feel as perfect as this.

“Enough.”

Warm lips leave his and Killua blinks, dazed. His skin is tingling where Gon touched him and his mind is a buzzing haze. It takes him a few moments to realize his father is speaking to him.

Killua quickly steps away from Gon, face burning. He can barely bring himself to look his father in the eyes, but he forces himself to anyway because he owes them that much after such an intimate showing.

His father is paler than Killua can ever remember seeing, his mouth set in a firm line. Mother has collapsed back into the couch with her nails raking red lines down the sides of her face. She is beyond horrified, Killua can tell, because there’s no other explanation for what he and Gon just did:

They are soulmates. And neither of his parents can deny that now.

-o0o-

“I can’t believe you did that,” Killua hisses at Gon ten minutes later.

Gon blinks at him with wide eyes, their clasped hands swinging between them once more as the pair walk down the stone driveway. “What do you mean?”

“The kissing, Gon! You can’t just—just do that. Kissing is a super intimate thing, they don’t even put that stuff in movies—”

“But they were calling you a liar!” Gon’s brow furrowed, an echo of his previous anger coming back to him. “They didn’t believe you even though you were telling the truth!”

Killua groans, long and loud. “They were never going to believe us. I told you that before we came here!”

Gon shakes his head stubbornly and the light from the setting sun catches his eyes, turning them into liquid gold. “I couldn’t accept that, Killua! I’m a part of your life now. They were going to have to get used to me being around sooner or later.”

“And you decided you wanted them to get used to you sooner rather than later, huh?”

“Yep!” Gon says cheerfully. “Anyway, it worked, right? Now they can’t separate us or anything. We can be together forever.”

Warmth starts prickling across Killua’s cheeks. “I...I wouldn’t have let them separate us.”

Gon looks at him sideways. There’s the ghost of a smile curling at the corners of his mouth, and a strange sort of yearning surges up inside Killua’s chest.

“You wouldn’t have let them?” Gon repeats, a laugh hidden in his words. “What were you gonna do?”

Killua shrugs. He shoves the idea of himself  sneaking out of his window in the early hours of the morning out of his mind. “I dunno. Something dramatic, probably.”

Gon giggles. “You’re cute when you try to hide how much you care about being together, Killua.”

“Shut up!”

Killua shoves Gon with his shoulder and Gon’s laugh grows louder. He’s grinning at Killua with a burning emotion in his eyes, the kind of emotion that sets Killua’s body on fire, and Killua pulls Gon close to erase the distance between them.

Relief courses through him as Gon easily melts into his embrace. The hardest part is over: Mito knows about Killua, and his parents know about Gon.

...now all Killua has to do is tell Alluka.

[gojosexual]

001 hxh? or haikyuu ;w;

I’ll choose hxh :DDD 

Favorite character: That’s definitely Killua ♥♥♥

Least Favorite character: Uhmm I didn’t like one or two chimera ants but I already forgot their names, sorry… 

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): killugon, hisoillu, leopika, merumugi and I don’t remember other ship right now… 

Character I find most attractive: That may change from time to time because I don’t have just one, sometimes I feel is Hisoka, or sometimes Illumi, but the only truth here is that Kurapika’s somewhat androgynous image really stands out, I like it :^))))) 

Character I would marry: Leorio? Irritating him for life should be fun lmao.

Character I would be best friends with: Kurapika, Machi, Palm or Pakunoda.

A random thought: Togashi I’m still waiting........................

An unpopular opinion: I really like Togashi's style and the way he writes his story, but sometimes I just wish he would team up together with MADHOUSE and continue with the anime. Not a stuffing, I want Togashi leading a team that can continue the story. I really like how the anime ended because it felt satisfactory, but it's a great pain to know that the history can still give more and that potential is not expressed...

My canon OTP: Merumugi is painfully canon ♥ ;u; 

Non-canon OTP: Killugon is the reason why I wake in the morning ♥

Most badass character: It was Netero, but right now is probably Zeno or Silva, who knows... 

Pairing I am not a fan of: hiso///gon or illu///killu, but are notps...

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Gotoh deserved to live a little more...

Favourite friendship: Killua and Gon ♥♥♥♥

SEND ME A FANDOM, A SHIP OR CHARACTER AND I’LL TELL YOU

[killugonficlibrary]

Cracked Lens by bluphacelia ( T | 7,949 | 1/1 )

A soft peel of classical music assaulted his senses as a soft yellow light spilled into the hallway—a night class? He continued forward, trying to keep his footsteps quiet. He felt the tug of curiosity and he glanced through the door, eyes flittering past easels and canvases and he stopped—paralyzed. There in the midst of art students was the perfect portrait.

(Gon finds something he didn't know he was looking for.)

[killugonficlibrary]

[Discontinued] one hundred by wartransmission ( T | 107,496 | 13/20 )

Everything is still the same but not, and Killua wonders how long this happiness will last. He can't help it; it's ingrained into him, this cautiousness that has saved his life countless times before.

Gon, on the other hand, is set on proving to him that this happiness can last. And if Gon was one thing, it was stubborn to the point of obstinacy.