[fanfic] I Carillion A Dieci
Title: I Carillion A Dieci
Author: legare_virtuoso
Rating: T
Pairings: Xanxus/Haru
Warnings: Xanxus, being Xanxus. Some strong language and minor sexual encounters.
Author Notes: Sequel to Cats Are Gods and part of the Schrodinger Hearts universe on biantaitroika.
I promised teenochan and chaernotwasted a sequel. I delivered. Also, Italian weddings are ridiculously complicated, never again.
Weddings in Italy are a big deal. At first the Vongola Guardians thought it was just the women being silly with their pattern books and seating charts, limbs all akimbo as fabric swatches were pinned together and compared. But then Reborn got in on it all and Kyoko was whisked away for lessons, maternity and all its drama included, and the foreigners started realizing that maybe this was a bad idea after all. Haru itches at the scars painted on her skin like fine lace and wonders why Lussuria is included with the ‘girls’ and remembers how matter of fact the man was at spelling out for the Japanese girls how a wedding was supposed to go. Apparently Tsuna’s answer to pressure was not a suitable one, and Lussuria was rather frank about how they now had to work double time in order to salvage what was left of Vongola’s honor.
It made no sense to Haru, nestled in a bed big enough to fit herself and her frequent bedmates with room to spare, various textual explanations and diagrams covering the bed portion Haru herself wasn’t occupying. “Hahi… this must be why Tsuna and Kyoko eloped!”
The smell of gun smoke and burned blood is all the warning Haru gets before she’s pounced on, long arms and scotch-tinged breath holding her in place while she’s kissed breathless. “Hmm… what’s all this trash?” Gun callused fingers are surprisingly deft at plucking the pages from the crimson coverlet, a gruff snort all Haru needs to know of Xanxus’ amusement. “…the bride and groom must cut a log in half before they reach the wedding site, using a double handled saw. This demonstrates their partnership in love and marriage. What is this shit?”
“Leave it alone hahi!” But the arms only wind tighter, a nip of teeth on her nape silencing all her protests in the wake of her own pleasured shock. Really, he had to go and figure out how to shut her up for times just like these.
“Woman, do you want to get married?” He’s somewhat amused when she shakes her head, laces her fingers together and tries to look everywhere but at him. “Then what’s all this shit?” Her lips purse and her back goes up, and suddenly Xanxus remembers that this is the same woman who smacked a liger on the nose for stealing her bra. He growls a little at her stubborn pride, nibbles his way up her neck and licks at her ear. Haru shivers and clutches at the bedspread, dragged into Xanxus’ lap with absent twitch. “Do. You. Want. To. Be. Married.” If Haru dared to look she’d have seen that ever present scar stretch a twitch farther across his face, a sure sign that the Varia boss was losing his patience with her.
“Tsuna and Kyoko… they’re getting remarried.”
“Fucking woman, I didn’t ask about them.” He bites her, hard enough to bruise the delicate flesh at the base of her neck, spends a moment savoring her whimpers and the taste of her skin before he pulls at her hair and forces her to look at him. “Woman, answer the damn question.” Xanxus is hotter than he should be, chokes the air before Haru can manage to get a proper breath to cool her head and save herself from the not-so-proverbial flames.
“Y-Yes…?” All those years of professing love for someone who didn’t want it and now Haru’s tongue-tied around someone who could break her in half by hugging her just a little too hard, all the rugged bad-boy manliness any woman could ever ask for wrapped up in a package that scares Haru into silence when he feels like it. “I… I want to get married.”
“Then just say so fucking woman.” Xanxus snorts and casts his gaze over the paperwork that has taken up his space in his own bed. He doesn’t understand the ‘fairer’ species and doesn’t pretend to, but he has to at least make the token attempts at it when Haru is involved. If the fucking woman wants a wedding, she’ll get a wedding that would put that Sawada brat to shame and firmly establish that Haru belongs to Xanxus and anyone who protests will get a bullet between their eyes.
She traces his scars with a careful fingertip as he sleeps, wrapped up in his arms and used as a body pillow. Haru isn’t sure if she should do something so personal, worries that just because Bester likes it doesn’t mean Xanxus would appreciate such an invasion of his privacy. After all, it’s taken her weeks as it is to get the man to stop wearing his boots in bed. And when she finally sleeps she dreams of white dresses and bloody flowers, of gunshots and giant cats. Xanxus cracks open an eye and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards, summons Bester with a click of ring to box and stealthily leaves Haru to sleep with a liger for a guard.
Timoteo is not surprised to see Xanxus the next morning, smiles gently at his adopted son and leans just a bit heavier on his scepter when the question he has been quietly anticipating is posed to him. “Of course.” It’s a little box, about the size of Xanxus’ favorite, all covered in old black silk and stamped with a familiar crest that not so long ago would have made Xanxus burn down the entire god damned building to have. “Your brothers told me they wanted you to have this.” He doesn’t need to look to know what it is, trusts that the thing will be enough to satisfy even Lussuria’s rainbow tastes. “…Thank you.” And Timoteo smiles all the wider, knows how much like pulling teeth from a hippo the words are to his last remaining son. “Tell my daughter-in-law that she is welcome.”
Haru wakes to fur and warmth, a bed cleared of paperwork and a grinning Squalo perched on the windowsill. “VOI! Up yet?” She’s too used to this to scream, lets Bester’s yawning roar serve as her expression of displeasure. “SHUT UP YOU DAMN CAT! Get up woman, you’re going shopping!” Haru is even used to Squalo’s default volume of ‘too fucking loud’ (as Xanxus helpfully described one breakfast after he had pelted the swordsman with his glass for scaring Haru), and doesn’t bother to comment as Bester sees him out so Haru can change.
Shopping with Lussuria and Mammon is something like taking your greatest gal-pal and your accountant into a bank and asking for a number. It makes Haru’s head hurt from laughter and frustration, crosses her patience until she’s resorted to throwing things with Yamamoto-trained aim. She doesn’t care that the glass breaks on Lussuria’s skull or that calling the Sun Varia a ‘flaming peacock of useless HAHI’ is far too close to Xanxus’ standard answer for ‘extreme faggotry’. At least the espresso machine is nice and offsets the flimsy negligee and lingerie Lussuria pressed her into buying. The trip makes as much sense as the day Xanxus shoved his gun in her hands and told her to shoot him, but Haru isn’t going to complain when her belly is nicely full of pastries and gelato.
That night she dines alone but for the cat, and halfway through Haru gives up and goes to haunt Verde’s labs like she used to.
Storm boxes are fierce as rain boxes are calming, cloud boxes prefer to drift just out of reach while mist like to keep the answers locked in their amusement. Sun boxes love to play and often don’t mean to hurt, thunder boxes only know how to hurt to show how much they play to love. But sky boxes… sky boxes are Haru’s favorite. Gentle when wanted, devoted even when there was no reason, sky boxes picked their own masters and stuck by them. If she could have a box, Haru wants to have a sky of her own. Verde raps her knuckles and stares at her with his scruffy face, broken curse body looming over her. It’s back to work for Haru, a menagerie of animals her mother would kill her for bringing home twined about her person as she runs her fingers over them and checks for damage and wear.
She goes to bed lonely, cries in Bester’s mane and wonders if Kyoko’s lessons are going well off in Rome. It’s not like she can do much to help with wedding preparations in the coming year, not locked up in the bowels of the Varia castle in Vicovaro as she is. Haru is cold, too used to having twin furnaces in her bed and missing Xanxus more than a little bit.
“Tsch.” She sniffles at the sound of his voice and raises blotchy eyes from white fur. “You’re a mess.” Haru nods and sits up, raises her hands to rub the tear stains off her cheeks. But Xanxus is there instead, gentle in ways she didn’t think he could manage as he kisses her nose and holds her face in his scarred hands. “Haru.” Doe eyes blink and stare into blood, a nearly silent gasp all that Haru manages before he kisses her.
Xanxus kisses like he kills, all burning passion and toe-curling fury mingled into a brutally charitable package. He takes and doesn’t bother giving anything back, drags Haru along until she can’t breathe from the heat and abandon. And when she pants for air he burns it all away with bold swipes and nips, bruises her lips and washes away all rational thought with his Will. “You’re going to marry me.” It’s not a question or even a command, nothing more than Xanxus’ certainty and Haru’s mindless nod of approval. He slips a ring on her finger, heavy and cold metal that lines up with the half a ring her job entailed.
Vongola Settimo had loved his daughter as much as he loved his famiglia, crafted a golden ring in halves to show her growth as a woman and as a boss. The first half was for Vongola, a simple gesture that carried the weight of tradition. The second half was for her own famiglia, a little branch off the family tree that was her own contribution to tradition. Timoteo had given Haru the first half, mailed it to her on the day her name was lined up under the Sky Division of Varia. And now Haru wears both halves on her finger when she stalks through the halls after Xanxus or Bester.
“Lussuria nee-san, are you sure I’m allowed this much money? We’re only buying a dress hahi!”
“Oh no Haru darling, it might not be enough!”
“HAHI?!?”
Her dress is white, dripping with lace and as elegant as an Italian empress. The train takes both Fran and Belphegor to carry properly, the veil gauzy enough that Haru can see and just a ghost of her can be seen in turn. It’s the gown of her dreams with a price tag that would have made her faint if Lussuria had let her read it, an ensemble that she’s been sworn to hide from Xanxus’ prying eyes. The shoes are dainty little things that make Haru worry her feet are going to break them before Lussu-nee gives her the helpful guide on how the heels can be lodged into a man’s skull like so or how the flats could be used to discombobulate someone like so.
Haru doesn’t mind walking to the cathedral with Xanxus ‘s eyes glued to her and enough Varia uniforms stalking them to make a common criminal piss their pants from fear. She can hear Yamamoto laughing in the back at something Gokudera said, catches the faint edges of Sawada Tsuna and Kyoko attempting to rein in the Guardians vigor. And she laughs, clutches at Xanxus’ hand and very nearly skips her way to the cathedral steps. She takes the walk in stride, balances a crying little boy on her hip and bounces him until he laughs with her and somehow gets a chuckle out of even grouchy Xanxus.
She doesn’t care about how grand the building is or how much Timoteo blots at his eyes when she grabs his arm to ask him to walk her down the aisle. Haru is happy and wants everyone to be as happy as she is, somehow manages to make the Vongola Nono and Decimo laugh at the way she really does skip down to where Xanxus waits for her. When Levi blows his nose and it resonates through the room and causes Lussuria to give him a glare that promised unending pain, she only grips Xanxus’ hand all the harder and smiles. The bells ring twice ten, the ceremony and reception are twice as grand as Vongola Decimo, and the assembled Varia who planned the damn thing are just happy enough to not have died in the planning stages that they could cry.
The best moment of Haru’s life is when all the silly ‘I do’s and vows are all said and done, when her veil is up and her husband isn’t sure if he needs to shoot the assemble populace to keep the secret of how unbelievably sappy Squalo made his vows or if he needs to just sweep Haru off her feet and kiss her until that damn dress is off and all the hidden milky skin is his to mar.
Haru’s happy that he chose to kiss her instead.
They make the token appearance at their reception, leave Mammon to carry the purse and threaten him with bodily harm if he so much as thinks about doing anything other than counting their money for the newlyweds. Said token appearance lasts all of thirty minutes before Xanxus can’t take any more of the simpering scum, sweeps his new wife off her feet and all too easily carries her off into the night. And Haru laughs at how sleepy he looks, makes a grand show out of stripping down to her skivvies before Xanxus has had enough of that shit and burns it all off.
Haru has decided that sex with her husband is best when he’s mad at something for getting in his way, when his scars stand out so she can kiss them properly and he’s too distracted by his anger to treat her like Tsuna does Kyoko. Because she’s the Varia Boss’s wife, and she isn’t glass.
Author: legare_virtuoso
Rating: T
Pairings: Xanxus/Haru
Warnings: Xanxus, being Xanxus. Some strong language and minor sexual encounters.
Author Notes: Sequel to Cats Are Gods and part of the Schrodinger Hearts universe on biantaitroika.
I promised teenochan and chaernotwasted a sequel. I delivered. Also, Italian weddings are ridiculously complicated, never again.
Weddings in Italy are a big deal. At first the Vongola Guardians thought it was just the women being silly with their pattern books and seating charts, limbs all akimbo as fabric swatches were pinned together and compared. But then Reborn got in on it all and Kyoko was whisked away for lessons, maternity and all its drama included, and the foreigners started realizing that maybe this was a bad idea after all. Haru itches at the scars painted on her skin like fine lace and wonders why Lussuria is included with the ‘girls’ and remembers how matter of fact the man was at spelling out for the Japanese girls how a wedding was supposed to go. Apparently Tsuna’s answer to pressure was not a suitable one, and Lussuria was rather frank about how they now had to work double time in order to salvage what was left of Vongola’s honor.
It made no sense to Haru, nestled in a bed big enough to fit herself and her frequent bedmates with room to spare, various textual explanations and diagrams covering the bed portion Haru herself wasn’t occupying. “Hahi… this must be why Tsuna and Kyoko eloped!”
The smell of gun smoke and burned blood is all the warning Haru gets before she’s pounced on, long arms and scotch-tinged breath holding her in place while she’s kissed breathless. “Hmm… what’s all this trash?” Gun callused fingers are surprisingly deft at plucking the pages from the crimson coverlet, a gruff snort all Haru needs to know of Xanxus’ amusement. “…the bride and groom must cut a log in half before they reach the wedding site, using a double handled saw. This demonstrates their partnership in love and marriage. What is this shit?”
“Leave it alone hahi!” But the arms only wind tighter, a nip of teeth on her nape silencing all her protests in the wake of her own pleasured shock. Really, he had to go and figure out how to shut her up for times just like these.
“Woman, do you want to get married?” He’s somewhat amused when she shakes her head, laces her fingers together and tries to look everywhere but at him. “Then what’s all this shit?” Her lips purse and her back goes up, and suddenly Xanxus remembers that this is the same woman who smacked a liger on the nose for stealing her bra. He growls a little at her stubborn pride, nibbles his way up her neck and licks at her ear. Haru shivers and clutches at the bedspread, dragged into Xanxus’ lap with absent twitch. “Do. You. Want. To. Be. Married.” If Haru dared to look she’d have seen that ever present scar stretch a twitch farther across his face, a sure sign that the Varia boss was losing his patience with her.
“Tsuna and Kyoko… they’re getting remarried.”
“Fucking woman, I didn’t ask about them.” He bites her, hard enough to bruise the delicate flesh at the base of her neck, spends a moment savoring her whimpers and the taste of her skin before he pulls at her hair and forces her to look at him. “Woman, answer the damn question.” Xanxus is hotter than he should be, chokes the air before Haru can manage to get a proper breath to cool her head and save herself from the not-so-proverbial flames.
“Y-Yes…?” All those years of professing love for someone who didn’t want it and now Haru’s tongue-tied around someone who could break her in half by hugging her just a little too hard, all the rugged bad-boy manliness any woman could ever ask for wrapped up in a package that scares Haru into silence when he feels like it. “I… I want to get married.”
“Then just say so fucking woman.” Xanxus snorts and casts his gaze over the paperwork that has taken up his space in his own bed. He doesn’t understand the ‘fairer’ species and doesn’t pretend to, but he has to at least make the token attempts at it when Haru is involved. If the fucking woman wants a wedding, she’ll get a wedding that would put that Sawada brat to shame and firmly establish that Haru belongs to Xanxus and anyone who protests will get a bullet between their eyes.
She traces his scars with a careful fingertip as he sleeps, wrapped up in his arms and used as a body pillow. Haru isn’t sure if she should do something so personal, worries that just because Bester likes it doesn’t mean Xanxus would appreciate such an invasion of his privacy. After all, it’s taken her weeks as it is to get the man to stop wearing his boots in bed. And when she finally sleeps she dreams of white dresses and bloody flowers, of gunshots and giant cats. Xanxus cracks open an eye and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards, summons Bester with a click of ring to box and stealthily leaves Haru to sleep with a liger for a guard.
Timoteo is not surprised to see Xanxus the next morning, smiles gently at his adopted son and leans just a bit heavier on his scepter when the question he has been quietly anticipating is posed to him. “Of course.” It’s a little box, about the size of Xanxus’ favorite, all covered in old black silk and stamped with a familiar crest that not so long ago would have made Xanxus burn down the entire god damned building to have. “Your brothers told me they wanted you to have this.” He doesn’t need to look to know what it is, trusts that the thing will be enough to satisfy even Lussuria’s rainbow tastes. “…Thank you.” And Timoteo smiles all the wider, knows how much like pulling teeth from a hippo the words are to his last remaining son. “Tell my daughter-in-law that she is welcome.”
Haru wakes to fur and warmth, a bed cleared of paperwork and a grinning Squalo perched on the windowsill. “VOI! Up yet?” She’s too used to this to scream, lets Bester’s yawning roar serve as her expression of displeasure. “SHUT UP YOU DAMN CAT! Get up woman, you’re going shopping!” Haru is even used to Squalo’s default volume of ‘too fucking loud’ (as Xanxus helpfully described one breakfast after he had pelted the swordsman with his glass for scaring Haru), and doesn’t bother to comment as Bester sees him out so Haru can change.
Shopping with Lussuria and Mammon is something like taking your greatest gal-pal and your accountant into a bank and asking for a number. It makes Haru’s head hurt from laughter and frustration, crosses her patience until she’s resorted to throwing things with Yamamoto-trained aim. She doesn’t care that the glass breaks on Lussuria’s skull or that calling the Sun Varia a ‘flaming peacock of useless HAHI’ is far too close to Xanxus’ standard answer for ‘extreme faggotry’. At least the espresso machine is nice and offsets the flimsy negligee and lingerie Lussuria pressed her into buying. The trip makes as much sense as the day Xanxus shoved his gun in her hands and told her to shoot him, but Haru isn’t going to complain when her belly is nicely full of pastries and gelato.
That night she dines alone but for the cat, and halfway through Haru gives up and goes to haunt Verde’s labs like she used to.
Storm boxes are fierce as rain boxes are calming, cloud boxes prefer to drift just out of reach while mist like to keep the answers locked in their amusement. Sun boxes love to play and often don’t mean to hurt, thunder boxes only know how to hurt to show how much they play to love. But sky boxes… sky boxes are Haru’s favorite. Gentle when wanted, devoted even when there was no reason, sky boxes picked their own masters and stuck by them. If she could have a box, Haru wants to have a sky of her own. Verde raps her knuckles and stares at her with his scruffy face, broken curse body looming over her. It’s back to work for Haru, a menagerie of animals her mother would kill her for bringing home twined about her person as she runs her fingers over them and checks for damage and wear.
She goes to bed lonely, cries in Bester’s mane and wonders if Kyoko’s lessons are going well off in Rome. It’s not like she can do much to help with wedding preparations in the coming year, not locked up in the bowels of the Varia castle in Vicovaro as she is. Haru is cold, too used to having twin furnaces in her bed and missing Xanxus more than a little bit.
“Tsch.” She sniffles at the sound of his voice and raises blotchy eyes from white fur. “You’re a mess.” Haru nods and sits up, raises her hands to rub the tear stains off her cheeks. But Xanxus is there instead, gentle in ways she didn’t think he could manage as he kisses her nose and holds her face in his scarred hands. “Haru.” Doe eyes blink and stare into blood, a nearly silent gasp all that Haru manages before he kisses her.
Xanxus kisses like he kills, all burning passion and toe-curling fury mingled into a brutally charitable package. He takes and doesn’t bother giving anything back, drags Haru along until she can’t breathe from the heat and abandon. And when she pants for air he burns it all away with bold swipes and nips, bruises her lips and washes away all rational thought with his Will. “You’re going to marry me.” It’s not a question or even a command, nothing more than Xanxus’ certainty and Haru’s mindless nod of approval. He slips a ring on her finger, heavy and cold metal that lines up with the half a ring her job entailed.
Vongola Settimo had loved his daughter as much as he loved his famiglia, crafted a golden ring in halves to show her growth as a woman and as a boss. The first half was for Vongola, a simple gesture that carried the weight of tradition. The second half was for her own famiglia, a little branch off the family tree that was her own contribution to tradition. Timoteo had given Haru the first half, mailed it to her on the day her name was lined up under the Sky Division of Varia. And now Haru wears both halves on her finger when she stalks through the halls after Xanxus or Bester.
“Lussuria nee-san, are you sure I’m allowed this much money? We’re only buying a dress hahi!”
“Oh no Haru darling, it might not be enough!”
“HAHI?!?”
Her dress is white, dripping with lace and as elegant as an Italian empress. The train takes both Fran and Belphegor to carry properly, the veil gauzy enough that Haru can see and just a ghost of her can be seen in turn. It’s the gown of her dreams with a price tag that would have made her faint if Lussuria had let her read it, an ensemble that she’s been sworn to hide from Xanxus’ prying eyes. The shoes are dainty little things that make Haru worry her feet are going to break them before Lussu-nee gives her the helpful guide on how the heels can be lodged into a man’s skull like so or how the flats could be used to discombobulate someone like so.
Haru doesn’t mind walking to the cathedral with Xanxus ‘s eyes glued to her and enough Varia uniforms stalking them to make a common criminal piss their pants from fear. She can hear Yamamoto laughing in the back at something Gokudera said, catches the faint edges of Sawada Tsuna and Kyoko attempting to rein in the Guardians vigor. And she laughs, clutches at Xanxus’ hand and very nearly skips her way to the cathedral steps. She takes the walk in stride, balances a crying little boy on her hip and bounces him until he laughs with her and somehow gets a chuckle out of even grouchy Xanxus.
She doesn’t care about how grand the building is or how much Timoteo blots at his eyes when she grabs his arm to ask him to walk her down the aisle. Haru is happy and wants everyone to be as happy as she is, somehow manages to make the Vongola Nono and Decimo laugh at the way she really does skip down to where Xanxus waits for her. When Levi blows his nose and it resonates through the room and causes Lussuria to give him a glare that promised unending pain, she only grips Xanxus’ hand all the harder and smiles. The bells ring twice ten, the ceremony and reception are twice as grand as Vongola Decimo, and the assembled Varia who planned the damn thing are just happy enough to not have died in the planning stages that they could cry.
The best moment of Haru’s life is when all the silly ‘I do’s and vows are all said and done, when her veil is up and her husband isn’t sure if he needs to shoot the assemble populace to keep the secret of how unbelievably sappy Squalo made his vows or if he needs to just sweep Haru off her feet and kiss her until that damn dress is off and all the hidden milky skin is his to mar.
Haru’s happy that he chose to kiss her instead.
They make the token appearance at their reception, leave Mammon to carry the purse and threaten him with bodily harm if he so much as thinks about doing anything other than counting their money for the newlyweds. Said token appearance lasts all of thirty minutes before Xanxus can’t take any more of the simpering scum, sweeps his new wife off her feet and all too easily carries her off into the night. And Haru laughs at how sleepy he looks, makes a grand show out of stripping down to her skivvies before Xanxus has had enough of that shit and burns it all off.
Haru has decided that sex with her husband is best when he’s mad at something for getting in his way, when his scars stand out so she can kiss them properly and he’s too distracted by his anger to treat her like Tsuna does Kyoko. Because she’s the Varia Boss’s wife, and she isn’t glass.