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OnceABlueMoon

@onceabluemoonwrites / onceabluemoonwrites.tumblr.com

"Not all those who wander are lost," - J.J.R. Tolkien Hi, guys! OnceABlueMoon here! I write fanfiction on AO3 and FF.net! You can also find links to specific fics on both sites plus what I've posted on Tumblr on my fic link masterpost. I'm also on Twitter My own posts are mostly fanfiction, KHR, YOI, Black Clover, some Marvel and a lot of other fandoms! My icon is by @_lycheeluv on twitter!
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Once Upon a Shoe

Rating: T Warnings: canon-typical swearing & violence Pairing: Giotto/Cozart Prompt: @khrrarepairweek 2021 Storm - courting, Sun - Hidden skillsets, Lightning - Fairytale Au. Summary: Once upon a time, there was a boy with a shoe obsession. His name was Giotto, and he just couldn’t get enough of them. Pumps, flats, ballerina’s, you name it, he had it. Or his mama had it, because Giotto was four and his lemonade stall hadn’t earned him a fortune yet.

Or: a shoe-tastic Cinderella comedy.

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Anonymous asked:

Ok so Im going to take this chance and go wild: GiottoxMukuro + Bad Vongola AU

UM. So, I sort of just sat on this last one cuz what even lmao. I checked AO3 and omg this ship exists??? but there’s like just two fics under it. But alright, here’s my stab at this very random pairing, it doesn’t even quite get all the way to a pairing, but I gave them both page time and at least you gave me something new to try XD Sorry it’s so late.

ALSO YAY I FINISHED ALL TEN

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i-w-p-chan

KHR Rare Pair Week 2K19, Storm Day || The Witching Hour

Title: The Witching Hour Author: IWP_chan Rating: T Pairing: Reborn/Giotto | Vongola Primo Tags/Warnings: N/A Summary: Reborn goes out to prepare for a job.

Reborn smoothed a hand down his skirt before tilting his head to make sure his wide-brimmed, pointy hat was placed properly on his spiky hair, brim not too high, not too low, to maintain the air of mystery it provided him.

(AO3)

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Hallelujah - Chapter 4: The Tomb (Complete)

Summary: ‘’There is blood on Giotto’s hands; The type you can’t scrub off.

The first had gone down with a thud. The second with a howl. He didn’t keep count after the third. Giotto hates himself; The ease with which he ended lives makes him sick to his stomach.

(He had been in a haze while killing, but he’s certain: He intended to do it)’’

Giotto’s life: A tale of loss, love, religion, betrayal and learning to love yourself.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

FF.net | AO3 | Tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4

My fic master list here.

“Easy is the descent into hell, for the door to the underworld lies open both day and night. But to retrace the path; to come out again to the sweet air of heaven – there is the task, there is the burden.”
-Virgil, the aenid

Chapter 4: The Tomb

The dining hall is dark when Giotto comes home. Lightning flashes through the sky, rain splashing down against the huge windows. His footsteps are wet, tracking mud from his long ride home onto the spotless floors. Raising the candle holder, he can barely see a foot in front of him, the dancing flame fickle.

It is the second lightning flash that illuminates the room for a single second- just enough to see a stark silhouette at the head of the dinner table on the other side of the room. ‘’Daemon.’’

It is utterly silent as he approaches, only the drip-drip-drip of his clothing and his shallow breathing, footsteps fading away with each careful step forward.

Daemon does not move.

He just sits, there in the light of the candle. Giotto gasps at the sight of him, breath stuttering. Daemon’s hair is long, ragged and loose, gone the clean-cut up do it normally is tucked away in. He sits, staring into the flame of the candle. He sits, eyes unseeing, as single dull dinner knife clutched in his fist. An empty plate is in front of him, silverware glinting in the capricious light.

The hall is empty, but for them, but the table is decked for eight- no, nine, Giotto realizes with an ache in his heart. For all the guardians, Ricardo and Elena.

It hurts. His eyes brim with tears and he cannot help but move to embrace his friend, who is stiff as a wooden plank, muscles tense. ‘’Oh, Daemon.’’

Daemon, for a single moment, melts into him, burying his nose in his neck. ‘’On the right side, it’s Lampo, Ricardo next to him, Asari, G. You at the head. On the left, Knuckle, Alaude, Elena and I. That’s… That’s how it’s supposed to be. Where are they, Giotto? They’re late for dinner.’’

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Hallelujah - Chapter 3: Judas Kiss (Complete)

Summary: ‘’There is blood on Giotto’s hands; The type you can’t scrub off.

The first had gone down with a thud. The second with a howl. He didn’t keep count after the third. Giotto hates himself; The ease with which he ended lives makes him sick to his stomach.

(He had been in a haze while killing, but he’s certain: He intended to do it)’’

Giotto’s life: A tale of loss, love, religion, betrayal and learning to love yourself.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

FF.net | AO3 | Tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4

My fic master list here.

So Judas kiss’d his master;
And cried—‘All hail!’ when as he meant—all harm.

-          Henry VI., Act v. sc.7

 Chapter 3: Judas Kiss

Their enemies have heard of the Vongola’s weakness, and like all predators, they swoop in for the kill.

This is war.

Giotto dresses in armour once more. It is heavier than ever.

So much for dying will, as Asari dubbed it, when it is only a fight to keep from dying. There is little will left in Giotto, but for himself and his friends to live.

He can’t stand the fire anymore. Every time he uses it, he smells the burning flesh, whether it actually is there or not. But not using his combat skills ended in Elena’s death, and there is no room for pacifism when there are people lunging for your throat. Never mind time for panic attacks.

Not using flames means death, but flames are warmth. And warmth, Giotto knows, is the only degree of temperature that exists- there is no such thing as cold.

Like a flash of lightning, like a blessing from above, it comes to him, in the middle of battle.

Zero point break-through.

There is no such thing as cold, but ice does exist.

He swings his fists in a semblance of a prayer.

(The original form was lethal.

He leaves the corpses of his enemies as giant ice sculptures, to be melted into a puddle of blood and broken bones by G.

G makes sure he never sees, but Giotto knows. It is as if G can see right through his mantle, through his clothing, through his façade, into his heart. G, his brother in all but blood, sees it for what it is- as fragile as the wings of a hummingbird, even more precarious than his sanity.

They never speak of it. Some terrors will break in half- just leave them clutching each other, family from the start, family till the end)

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Hallelujah - Chapter 2: Take Me to Church (Complete)

Summary: ‘’There is blood on Giotto’s hands; The type you can’t scrub off.

The first had gone down with a thud. The second with a howl. He didn’t keep count after the third. Giotto hates himself; The ease with which he ended lives makes him sick to his stomach.

(He had been in a haze while killing, but he’s certain: He intended to do it)’’

Giotto’s life: A tale of loss, love, religion, betrayal and learning to love yourself.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

FF.net | AO3 | Tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4

My fic master list here.

"I would stop praying to help the beggar at my door, and my god will understand,"

-St. Vincent de Paul to the other priests who scolded him for not praying enough

Chapter 2: Take Me to Church

“You’re making a mistake!”

‘’This isn’t up for discussion.’’

Daemon slams his hands down on the table. ‘’Giotto, we’re surrounded by enemies on all sides! We can’t disband the military force!’’

The rest of his friends stare at him, unsure what to do.

Giotto’s hand clenches on the crucifix around his neck, body stiffening, bracing himself to take a stand. ‘’We’re becoming the men we fought, Daemon. I’m prohibiting any and all violence within the Vongola. This conversation is over.’’

Standing up to one’s own friends is terribly hard and it never gets easier. But this needs to be done. There had been fear-filled brown eyes and Giotto never wants to see that look again.

Daemon grabs Giotto’s collar and shakes him, face twisting. ‘’When is it going to get through to you? We’re all going to the devil’s bloody blazes anyhow! Stop trying to be a saint before it gets not only you but all of us killed!’’

Giotto shoots up, shoving Daemon away. ‘’ The Vongola can defend just fine against enemy intruders, but the town’s people can’t. Not if their own protectors have become the bullies! We aren’t warmongers and I’ll be damned if I’ll let us become dictators!’’

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Hallelujah - Chapter 1: Sunday Child (Complete)

Summary: ‘’There is blood on Giotto’s hands; The type you can’t scrub off. 

The first had gone down with a thud. The second with a howl. He didn’t keep count after the third. Giotto hates himself; The ease with which he ended lives makes him sick to his stomach. 

(He had been in a haze while killing, but he’s certain: He intended to do it)’’

Giotto’s life: A tale of loss, love, religion, betrayal and learning to love yourself. 

Disclaimer: I don’t own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

FF.net | AO3 | Tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4

My fic master list here.

‘’The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.’’

- Proverb

Chapter 1: Sunday Child

Giotto is born with a smile on his face, his wails joyous instead of upset. His aunt laughs and claps in her hands. ‘’Maria, hear, hear! He’s not even Christened yet and already singing hallelujah!’’

His mother strokes his nose and sighs happily. ‘’A blessed Sunday child, don’t you think?’’

They walk to the church singing, the baby nestled in the crook of Maria’s arms.

‘’Monday's child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace, Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for a living, And the child born on the Sabbath day Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.’’¹

Their small, seaside town is not a kind one. They live on crime-riddled streets and poverty is a disease no-one can cure. Maria manages to feed her son, and while not necessarily becoming a beacon of strength, the boy grows willowy and hardy.

They need the money, so Giotto begins to work the minute he can, just like the other children his age. His hands become rough and his skin darkens in the sun, but his wild hair doesn’t lose its shine. Nor do his eyes, and his mouth always has a smile left to give. He’s a pretty boy, a dangerous thing to be in the darkest corners of the streets. But sunlight is free and even the sea becomes a black hole at night, only to sparkle when dawn breaks once again. Giotto doesn’t mind. Pretty boys learn to punch twice as hard, as far as he is concerned, so it evens out.

Maria watches with uneasy eyes, but he knows what he’s doing. ‘’Don’t worry, mama! I only fight in defence! I won’t shame the Lord’s teachings of love!’’

His eyes sing hallelujah.

Maria lets him go with a heavy heart, watching her son run off again. He uses violence as a means, but only when there is no other way. He is kind, generous, not afraid to defend others as readily as he defends himself.

He is good, there is no question about it, but Maria remembers being good doesn’t come without a price. She’s afraid of the day it will cost his smile.

It arrives when he fifteen.

He’s out with that gang of his, a red-head on either side and their comrades in arms behind them. He comes home with blood on his hands and hollow eyes. But still, hoarsely it falls from his lips: ‘’Hallelujah, mama. Hallelujah.’’

It scares her witless and she stares at the scratched kitchen table for a long, long time. The clock ticks on the wall, as a shadow falls upon her heart.

Where has her Sunday child gone?

Giotto is thirteen when he meets Cozart. He likes him. He’s steadfast, calm and confident, a mischievous smile in the shadow of his black cap. His hair is fiery red and his passion is just as great.

They team up, together with Giotto’s best friend G, to help out the people in their neighbourhood.

They’re fourteen when it isn’t enough anymore. The crime is not just stolen goods now. The outlaws are hurting people and the police are no help at all. Giotto is afraid that if they don’t do something, there will be no one left to save.

Then Franco is beaten up in front of their eyes and Giotto can’t take it anymore. ‘’I refuse to sit around quietly, watching as they take our town!’’

It happens in the middle of a bustling street.

Cozart is the one who voices their thoughts. ‘’We could be vigilantes.’’

Giotto clenches his fists and nods. ‘’If no one else will help us, then we’ve got to defend the town ourselves. However, governing that kind of group will require great leadership. And rain, nor storm, nor sun will be able to keep us away, once we have that. Just like the sky.’’

The group shuffles around, silent, shooting each other unsure looks until Cozart speaks up again. ‘’Giotto, there’s no one but you.’’

Giotto swallows. He doesn’t condone violence, but there’s a fire burning in him, so he straightens his shoulder and meets Cozart’s gaze. ‘’All right,’’ he says, ‘’All right.’’

With those words, he creates the Vongola, Cozart the first to trust Giotto with his life. Responsibility has never felt heavier.

They fight the monsters on the streets, darkness cloaking their youthful features. They’re only fifteen, but rule a reign of terror. They steal their enemies’ supplies, knocking them out before they know what’s happening. Their invisibility creates a bloodcurdling reputation.

After their latest raid, they sleep in a warehouse. Giotto wakes up with the smell of smoke invading his nose, Cozart, warm beside him, still asleep. Flames lick at the door opening, the heat unbearable. The air is thin and the world is spinning.

He shakes Cozart and G. ‘’Wake up!’’

‘’Wazzit- Fire?!’’

Giotto’s eyes dart around. Where is the exit? No, they’ll have to take the window.

The three boys have to crawl, but they get there. Giotto swings his legs over the ledge. The ground is awfully far away. He swallows, eyes darting from the splintered frame beneath his hands to the street stones far below. But G and Cozart already jumped and a broken leg is nothing next to dying. He takes the leap.

They watch the house go up in flames, G holding Giotto up. His ankle is swollen. The bad landing got him good. It hurts, but it’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before.

The roof collapses and G shakes his head. ‘’It wasn’t an accident,’’

Cozart swears.

Giotto clenches his fists. The fire had spread too fast for a building made of stone. They should’ve known.

The worst thing is that Giovanni can’t miss this warehouse. He tries to support the Vongola however he can, but letting them sleep there was risky already. Now all his wares have gone up in flames. It’s cruel, but then again, that’s the reason the Vongola exists in the first place.

Protecting the town from the outlaws is a- Giotto’s eyes widen.

‘’Giovanni is in danger!’’ He wasn’t sure if the enemy was aware of their identities. But they knew Giovanni was their supporter if the fire was any indication.

Giotto’s gut burns as they run towards Giovanni’s house, his ankle throbbing. The shouts are already audible.

There is a body on the pavement. Its stomach is torn open, still bleeding, the face turned away. It’s Giovanni. Could he still- the glassy eyes take all hope away. It’s a corpse.

G bows over it. ‘’Looks like it was his liver.’’

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Vongola first gen

The Vongola first generation manga chapters in the Inheritance arc for all my fellow fanfic writers who are In Need of the references! 

308 - First meeting Giotto & Cozart

313- Vongola’s founding

316 – Cozart gets the fake letter

324 – Daemon deceiving the Vongola

333 – Cozart and Giotto entrust their memories to the Vindice

345 – Eternal Elena 

346 – Cozart on the hidden island

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Fairly Local (I’ve Been Around)

A gift for @i-w-p-chan. We got to discussing favorite characters, and she mentioned how there isn’t enough Ricardo content out there. So I offered to generate some. Sadly it ended up growing when I wasn’t looking, so it’s a bit longer than originally planned. 

0-0-0-0-0-0

“You sealed him?!”

Daniela’s got the right tone of voice going on, her Flames flickering erratically on her forehead in her anger. Ricardo doesn’t know why she’s so upset; her son’s been pulling stupid decisions out of his ass since birth. 

“It was the right choice to make,” Timoteo says, firm even in the direct line of his mother’s wrath. Foolish, given Daniela’s struck down men bigger and meaner than him even at her weakest. “If his Flame had burned brighter–”

“So what?” Daniela demands venomously. “So what if a boy with Giotto’s blood in his veins had usurped our own line? He is still Vongola, still one of us. How many times did I tell you growing up that no matter what happens, we are always one. We stand as one, we fall as one, and nobody is left behind, not even the dead. You’ve destroyed that boy over pride, and it’s not you that’s going to be dealing with the consequences, you idiot!”

She’s halfway out of her chair now, looking more than ready to leap the remaining distance and strangle her son. Timoteo continues to look stubborn and unrepentant throughout it all, which isn’t helping his case one bit. In the end, Settimo coaxes his daughter down, even as he shakes his head over Timoteo’s foolishness. Even the weakest of their lot would never seal a child. 

“A child,” Ricardo says, and Timoteo stiffens. The old man has always feared him, him and his Wrath. “You truly have no boundaries.” He unfolds himself from his own chair like a great stork, and sighs as he feels every ounce of his age come back to him. “Giotto, I’m going.”

“You don’t have to–” Daniela starts.

“Yes, I do,” Ricardo interrupts. “Because your idiot boy refuses to learn, refuses to listen and refuses to fix his own fucking mistakes. So I’m going to fix them for him, starting with his seal and ending with his ignorance.” He looks over his shoulder. “By the time that boy shows up on your doorstep, you’ll wish he hadn’t.”

Timoteo’s lips gain a pinched look, but he says nothing. As always.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Namimori is a quaint little town that reminds Ricardo a lot of Portofino. It’s quiet and homely, with pockets of activity here and there, but the same steady pace no matter where he goes. Granted they don’t live alongside the ocean and have fishing as a main export, but still the basic idea stands.

He finds the boy easily enough; allowing his Flames to uncurl like a great sleeping dragon and seek out the baby Flames shrieking in agony. He finds him in a hospital (a wise choice) in a bed, burning with fever and thrashing about as he sleeps. He only looks to be six or so, and that only increases the disgust he feels over Timoteo’s actions even more. On a seat next to the bed is a young woman, sound asleep, tear tracks on her face. The mother, most likely.

He peels off one of the black gloves he wears, and lays time-scarred skin against the boy’s forehead. He can feel the Flames there below the seal, still fighting to get out. If the seal is allowed to stay, eventually the Flames will stop fighting, and whenever they come out - whether by choice or chance - they will sear him with the force of his own Flame. He can’t have that. 

He wraps the boy in his own Flames like a blanket to shield him, and then jams a ‘needle’ of Flame under the seal and pushes.

The seal is strong, but Ricardo Mantione di Vongola hasn’t spent his life building an empire simply to be thwarted by a mere seal. So he digs deeper, the great redwood shifting its roots, and pushes harder.

And eventually, the seal yields.

It pops off, and immediately the boy’s Flames try to burn him. The wall Ricardo’s put between the Flames and the boy prevent that, the sensation not unlike stinging nettles to the face. He bears it, and begins to wrap a portion of his Flames around the boy’s to soothe them back down to their proper manifestation. 

All told, it takes him two hours when he looks at the clock again. The woman is waking, and the sun is setting. The boy - Tsunayoshi - is quiet, his leftover fever breaking even as Ricardo stands there. Their last heir remains alive, at least for now.

Ricardo draws his hand back, and sits in the second chair across from the bed. He feels tired; it’s been a long while since he’s had to go up against something that requires so much effort. And being a dead man doesn’t prevent him feeling tired, not when he’s outside the Ring. 

He expects this will be the end of the troubles for a time, and prepares to dissipate back into the Ring.

Except.

Except the woman on the other side of the bed can apparently see him, and feel the weight of Flames, or at least what he’s done to Tsunayoshi. She’s staring at him, wide-eyed in wonderment. “What did you do to my son?”

“You can see me?” he demands.

“He doesn’t feel– sick anymore, he doesn’t– what did you–”

That’s as far as she gets, unfortunately, because Ricardo whips himself back into the Ring in the next moment, leaving her with her son. 

“It’s done,” he says as he takes his seat again. Jabs a finger at Timoteo. “Don’t ever fucking do that again, or you won’t have to worry about old age because you won’t live to see your next birthday.”

Timoteo flinches from that, but nobody contradicts him. Ricardo settles back for a long nap, content that he’s done his part for now. 

0-0-0-0-0-0

Of course, even with the seal off, there are still chances of complications. Complications like the baby Sky launching into an early puberty as a result, and his Flames starting to call for Guardians long before his body is actually ready for such a thing. Ricardo groans when he hears about it from Giotto, and ressolves next time to just keep his damn help to himself. 

“Fuck,” he swears as he stares down at a similar sight. Tsunayoshi in his own bed, writhing and sweating like mad, but this time his Flames are calling out, trying to coax viable Flame candidates closer. Ricardo bats them aside when they turn their attention towards him, and tugs his glove off again. 

Unfortunately, there is no ‘quick fix’ for this kind of behavior. Timoteo’s choice to seal Tsunayoshi’s Flames, even temporarily, has left a lot of damage and fucked up a lot of shit that should have been on a set timer. If that seal hadn’t made contact, the baby Sky wouldn’t have started looking for Guardians until he hit fifteen or sixteen, and even then he would have only been expressing interest. The actual courting measures wouldn’t have started until he got up a little in age where consent was no longer an issue, and if he chose to shore up a bond through use of copious amounts of sex, nobody would bat an eye.

But now that timer has been demolished, and if the baby Sky doesn’t at least have a single Guardian attach soon, it’ll likely kill him, or at least leave him tired, achy and on a single-minded search for something he doesn’t actually know exists yet. He won’t know what he needs, just that he needs it. It’ll drive him crazy, and he likely won’t find it until much later, by which point his Flames could start tearing themselves apart.

Fucking Timoteo and his goddamned pride.

He rips the other glove off, and calls up his Wrath. Immediately the baby Sky Flames start reaching for him, but he bats them aside again, and then pins them for good measure. He doesn’t need the brat’s help here. He pulls threats of Storm from the Sky, just enough to create a Guardian bond with. If there comes a better candidate down the line, he’ll gladly step aside, but for now he needs to be here at least to hold the kid down and prevent him going mad.

He weaves it loose, making sure to pour as many parental feelings into it as possible. It isn’t hard to think of Tsunayoshi like his youngest; and Tsunayoshi’s father seems more content to spend his time overseas than with his actual family. So they’ll both be getting something out of this, even if the start of it certainly isn’t either of their ideas of fun.

Slowly, the Sky Flames settle, content with the new bond. For a second, it’s like being back home and realizing he’d just arrived in time to hold the newest son his wife had given him. That moment when the little baby’s Flames had reached out to his, and Ricardo had realized just how small and fragile they were, how easily he could be harmed. 

He sighs, and smooths a hand through Tsuna’s sweaty locks. “You and me, kid,” he murmurs. “I’ll show you how we survive.”

And if Tsuna’s Flames burrow a little bit closer to his as he speaks, it’s probably just his nostalgia talking.

(He’s going to be in so much trouble with Giotto after this, he just knows it.)

BLESS HRAAP

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i-w-p-chan

For the summary ask meme: Floating Fortresses were decidedly NOT Enma's forte. Vampire boys in dresses and fire-breathing dragons, however, were.

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I don’t knowwhat you had in mind for a fic with such a summary but my brain keepswhispering ‘Enma finds himself transported into a weird fantasy world’

Have a lil’blurb :D (featuring the aforementioned Vampires in dresses with a hair triggertemper)

.

Out of allthe outlandish things Enma expected to happen to him, he never thought he’d endup travelling into a world that looked like it came out of one of Tsuna’sisekai manga.

And Enmawent to a magic school.

There was alittle kid in a dress standing above him, pouting and tapping a footimpatiently on the ground.

“You donegawking?” The kid said imperiously, “If so, I have summoned you here to aid mynation, o great hero!”  the kid bitout the last couple of words with a sneer on their face.

Hero? NowEnma was absolutely sure someone made a mistake somewhere.

“I’m sorry,but I think you’re mistaken. I’m not a he-“

Enma wasinterrupted by the kid baring their suddenly too sharp fangs at him in a snarl,their eyes glowing red with slit pupils, “Did you just imply that I made amistake like some novice? Drake!” The kid shouted and a dragon was heardroaring in the distance. Right. Up. Above. Them.

Enma raisedhis head to stare in shock as a dragon descended to land behind the enragedvampire child, wings stretched and gaping maw full of flames.

A vampire ina dress and a fire-breathing dragon? He could handle this. At least they weren’tone and the same (love you, Tsuna).

Okay, hecould do this. And he hoped he got to get back home before dinner lest Giottoupend the multiverse looking for him.

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I was curious what you would do when presented with this. If you would go ‘’boy in dress’’ (aka: Tsuna, most likely when you are concerned) coupled with ‘’’vampire’’ (Hibarin), and ‘’fire-breathing dragon’’ (also Tsuna), or do something completely different. This was awesome! 

The opening is so funny! 

The kid is definitely a piece of work and I really like it!

‘ A vampire in a dress and a fire-breathing dragon? He could handle this. At least they weren’t one and the same (love you, Tsuna).’‘

This sentence should come with a warning. Something along the lines of ‘’Cult inducing’’. Seriously, SUCH A GREAT LINE!

And now I’m curious about this AU setting, because Giotto tearing up universes while running around like a headless chicken looking for Enma is so my jam *cackles*

so far, the AU (in both worlds) is fantasy/magic/supernatural in nature. Enma goes to a magic school and he lives with Giotto. Tsuna attends the same school and lives with Cozart (just because I wanted to switch things around). Tsuna is a vampire who somehow managed an animal transformation into a dragon (almost everyone around his is scratching their heads in confusion, because a vampire turning into a dragon? it never happened before).

Giotto, tearing a dimensional rift in the sky of a very mundane world and subsequently causing the sky to turn green and the sun black with screams of teh damned echoing from the portals to hell that suddenly popped up: hey have you seen my kid? he’s about yeah high with a cute sneeze and fluffy hair. oh, and he likes cats. 

THAT IS SO CUTE! (Also, A+ description 😂😂)

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i-w-p-chan

For the summary ask meme: Floating Fortresses were decidedly NOT Enma's forte. Vampire boys in dresses and fire-breathing dragons, however, were.

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I don’t knowwhat you had in mind for a fic with such a summary but my brain keepswhispering ‘Enma finds himself transported into a weird fantasy world’

Have a lil’blurb :D (featuring the aforementioned Vampires in dresses with a hair triggertemper)

.

Out of allthe outlandish things Enma expected to happen to him, he never thought he’d endup travelling into a world that looked like it came out of one of Tsuna’sisekai manga.

And Enmawent to a magic school.

There was alittle kid in a dress standing above him, pouting and tapping a footimpatiently on the ground.

“You donegawking?” The kid said imperiously, “If so, I have summoned you here to aid mynation, o great hero!”  the kid bitout the last couple of words with a sneer on their face.

Hero? NowEnma was absolutely sure someone made a mistake somewhere.

“I’m sorry,but I think you’re mistaken. I’m not a he-“

Enma wasinterrupted by the kid baring their suddenly too sharp fangs at him in a snarl,their eyes glowing red with slit pupils, “Did you just imply that I made amistake like some novice? Drake!” The kid shouted and a dragon was heardroaring in the distance. Right. Up. Above. Them.

Enma raisedhis head to stare in shock as a dragon descended to land behind the enragedvampire child, wings stretched and gaping maw full of flames.

A vampire ina dress and a fire-breathing dragon? He could handle this. At least they weren’tone and the same (love you, Tsuna).

Okay, hecould do this. And he hoped he got to get back home before dinner lest Giottoupend the multiverse looking for him.

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I was curious what you would do when presented with this. If you would go ‘’boy in dress’’ (aka: Tsuna, most likely when you are concerned) coupled with ‘’’vampire’’ (Hibarin), and ‘’fire-breathing dragon’’ (also Tsuna), or do something completely different. This was awesome! 

The opening is so funny! 

The kid is definitely a piece of work and I really like it!

‘ A vampire in a dress and a fire-breathing dragon? He could handle this. At least they weren’t one and the same (love you, Tsuna).’‘

This sentence should come with a warning. Something along the lines of ‘’Cult inducing’’. Seriously, SUCH A GREAT LINE!

And now I’m curious about this AU setting, because Giotto tearing up universes while running around like a headless chicken looking for Enma is so my jam *cackles*

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