It takes not courage nor sympathy to protect; it takes neither hatred nor passion to destroy. A willing heart, embedded with human instability and a need to succumb is what makes a man so dangerous, for he is gifted with a will to fight, and cursed to live with the consequences of his own impulses❞.

{Gokudera Hayato RP Blog}

Out; It’s not munday but I can’t promise I’m going to be here on Monday, so you guys are getting a pic early. If anyone has ever wondered what I look like, it’s under the cut. I’m sorry for my faisu sobs

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✗—ʜᴇʟʟsᴏɴɢ

cielinuvolosi:

Incredulous stares regarded the Guardian all around the room. Brows pinched, lips pursed. He was seated on a leather chair, back erect and gaze directed ahead of him; his arms nonchalantly rest atop the plush armrests as his legs remained crossed. He resembled a statue, even to his very expression—if one could call a mask of lacking emotion an expression…—, which had yet to alter, of practiced stoicism. His comrades had turned on him - not that he blamed them. Their leader, the one person that held this Famiglia together—for if he wasn’t around, the very threads that tied each member together grew frayed at the seams, loosening to the point of slipping away—, was dead.

All evidence pointed to him, and everybody seemed to jump on the issue that he was the culprit. No matter that he was dedicated to their boss, in his own way, just as much as they. His attitude and notable disdain were what kept him apart from the others. He truly was the epitome of the Cloud Guardian, taking his role to heart—whether or not this was done on purpose was left for debate—by being the ‘aloof, drifting Cloud that protects from an independent standpoint, and whom nothing can ever bind. No, he was the outsider; an outcast that kept his distance, no matter that he did his job flawlessly and with purpose. No, he had to be the number on suspect. He was, after all, the least trusted among all of them for the very aspect of himself that made him fit into the role of the Cloud Guardian so well: his apathetic demeanor.

Truly, he couldn’t fault them for believing what they did. However, that didn’t take away from the fact that their accusations, lacking any viable intel save the physical evidence littered within the Tenth’s study, had hurt. 

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Yet, Hibari was not one to display his inner turmoil. He would not break, not even in front of them - those he held closest, and would never admit were his closest. No, he would remain there, sitting with an unfazed visage as they all vented their frustrations at him. 

An unamused tone casting out a direct statement cuts above all others, quieting their raucous allegations.

”He didn’t do it.”

Gokudera.

The barest lift of a brow, and the skylark’s facade finally cracks. He regards the irritable tempest with mild curiosity. For what reason would he have to defend Hibari? The two were the least compatible of the Guardians, as well as on tenuous terms. One was an easily annoyed independent, and the other was just as cantankerous, but the difference? Gokudera was the closest to their deceased Decimo. He would be the first to jump the gun and adamantly point his finger at the Cloud demanding Why?, or so Hibari suspected.

Rather than stay and answer the questioning stares directed his way, he left the room after a quick visual exchange with Reborn. Interest piqued, Hibari spared fleeting glances at the tense occupants of the room. He stood, not bothering to acknowledge Ryohei’s outburst of, ‘He’s getting away!’, for he was shushed by Yamamoto, and walked after the Decimo’s right hand man. 

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Perhaps he would be the key to helping solve Hibari’s present concern - the one others had yet to ask him: who killed the Tenth?

     To say his blood isn’t boiling beneath his skin would be a lie, metaphorical scarlet bubbles rising from his veins and bursting against ivory bone in a macabre show of anger, a burning need to get this whole ordeal over with. It would be easy to pin the blame on Hibari, but it wouldn’t bring him any piece of mind to speed up a funeral for a friend and a boss, knowing somewhere along the line they got something wrong and his silent tongue, impatience to merely turn present into memories, pushed someone behind bars and let a killer stay out to play.

     Maybe that’s why he chose to say something, rather than sit back and let the others converse in their vicious mob mentality. It certainly wasn’t his overpowering love of Hibari—he’d barely bat an eyelash if the skylark was shot down in front of him

     Footsteps tapping lightly on a tiled floor behind him signal the arrival of the Cloud Guardian himself—naturally delicate, as little sound as possible, things Gokudera had memorized long ago—and the bomber isn’t surprised necessarily, though he isn’t keen on stopping just yet. His own strides stay the same pace, not attempting to leave anyone in the dust but they need to be out of earshot because words are often twisted in times of panic.

     They don’t need to be making things worse, not when they’ve already hit the bottom. Gokudera turns a corner, stopping there and allowing his back to hit the wall, right shoulder bumping the plaster first, followed by a left and his hands are shoved in his pockets, eyes searching for the raven haired male who appears around the corner just seconds afterwards. There’s an urge to string his neck, the same paranoid hatred the others have towards him having rubbed off on him, but it’s that undying loyalty to Tsuna that stops him, reminds him that to the Tenth, Hibari was a friend and as a loyal right hand man he has to show restraint.

     Even if this was a perfect excuse—a wrong one, them both knowing Hibari is innocent—to take the tonfa-user down a peg.

     There’s silence between the two men, Gokudera playing over the best words to use and Hibari likely merely waiting on a tangible sentence, phrase, singular word to play off of, to get under the bomber’s skin and see why he of all people stood up for him. Hibari never has been an open book, but Hayato can read him, a little bit, or so he likes to think and he’s not in a rush to break the slightly eerie quiet surrounding them like a blanket.

     No, they have time; Reborn will make sure of that.

     ”…They all want you dead, you know.” Gokudera finally speaks, locking eyes with the Cloud Guardian, tone far more casual than it may have been in his teenage years. It lacks swears, accusations, explosives—maybe he’s growing up, or maybe he’s too emotionally drained from mourning to give a rat’s ass about such trivial things such as fighting. Either way, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done and they have things to talk about, and this isn’t the time to dwell on personal growth. “‘Cept maybe the baseball idiot—too kind to people.”

     Stupid, idle, obvious words and there’s a sigh that escapes him, head falling back against the wall and this is all so stupid. Famiglia his ass; they’re all just a time bomb ready to blow at this stage and treading carefully, while mandatory, isn’t really his style. Might as well test a fuse and see if it blows up in his face.

     ”You would’ve been more careful, right? Hid the evidence. Someone a lot more stupid than you killed Juudaime. Pretty piss poor job of framing you, if you look at it from the right angle.”

out; I changed my theme again. I’m rather proud of it since it took me like three fucking hOURS TO MAKE THE HEADER AND BACKGROUND JKALSDF
on that note I will attempt replies tonight/this weekend. I can do this I swear jaklsdf

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Surprise gift-type thing for pioggiatutore and cielinuvolosi ~ My potato Kohai and my Senpai 

⊰αprιcιтy⊱

nuage-alouette:

Hibari narrows his eyes and reaches for the tonfas that are strapped to his belt. For some stupid delinquent to be so daring as to point out that he was breaking the school rules, if even with a look alone… He was permitted to use weapons on the school grounds as a means to ensure order and because he was a perfect. Only he was allowed to do so.

Though, the skylark stops once he’s observed the bomber’s body language porperly, the look in his eyes that followed the clear message about Hibari breaking the rules himself. The silverette wanted a fight, he wanted to let loose and destroy. Pathetic, if nothing else.

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I refuse to become your means of entertainment, herbivore.” Hibari says, letting his hand hang by his side, rather than grab a hold of the metal weapon he usually used. The last thing he wanted to do was become some idiot’s stress relief. “If you wish to play around then go and do so with the rest of the herbivores. I will not amuse you.

     He’s not even worth Hibari’s time, he realizes bitterly, wondering just how pathetic one had to be before they reached such a low state that even as a punching bag they were unwanted. He knows damn well it’s not out of the goodness of Hibari’s heart that he isn’t being beaten black and blue—Hibari doesn’t have a heart in the first place—and it ticks him off, further, to know that this is just pure disinterest on the Skylark’s end. Even sympathy, while unappreciated, would be better than apathy towards the bomber, and it’s with a low ‘tch’ that he pushes himself to his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets.

     ”I didn’t ask you to entertain me.” Gokudera snaps, hisses, pretending they don’t both know he’s itching to throw some punches and cause some damage, and in some masochistic, self-destructive way he wants to be hurt in return. Of all the guardians, Hibari would be the most likely—aside from perhaps Mukuro—to assist in that nature, but even he is refusing.

     He just can’t catch a break, can he?

     ”Hn. All bark and no bite.” Hayato mutters with a frown, recalling Hibari’s constant threats of biting the Italian to death. Looks like when push comes to shove, the Skylark doesn’t follow through, and for once, he isn’t grateful for that.

cristallumxspes:

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Out of Fate;
      As of tomorrow I am officially under home-teaching (AKA homeschooling but with actual online teachers). This should mean less stress, less drama and a happier, healthier me who can actually get to her replies on time and be proper fun to be around! I’m really hoping this goes well and I’m excited to see what happens, but I felt I should share since I should, theoretically, be able to be here more and be able to actually be productive with less anxiety eating away at me. c:

Turbulence || @veloxtemperavit

pioggiatutore:

Jubilant and carefree, Yamamoto stands with the other Guardians, posture relaxed as he watches Tsuna with prideful eyes. Vongola Nono looks like he always does, mild-mannered with a touch of gentleness unusual for a man of his power and status, as he passes down the torch, so to speak, to his successor. He has the urge to shout out, scream and whistle his excitement over the monumental moment, but he waits. Ryohei looks more ready to burst at the seams than he is, and his eye catches Hibari’s only because the Cloud Guardian seems to be the only one not completely overwhelmed by the ceremony taking place.

Gokudera, on his right with his gaze centered on the man of the hour, would more than likely look strange to any random bystander with the way he stares intently at Tsuna, the Tenth’s every move revered in all ways a pet should revere their master. In truth, they all look to Tsuna much the same way, though probably not quite as ardently as Hayato. He stifles a laugh at the thought and only shakes his head, throat clearing to mask the small noise that escapes anyway.

Before he realizes it, the ceremony is over and he’s shuffling out with the others, his hand reaching behind him to ensure the sword is secure in its place. His tie is constricting, again the work of Gokudera, who never seems satisfied enough with anything, even with the way the Rain Guardian dresses. Everyone files out, all except Tsuna, who pulls him aside and offers a genuinely happy smile. 

“Could you tell I was nervous?” Tsuna asks, the endearing child-like expression on his face reminding Yamamoto of the Tenth when he had first met him and how far they had come. A flash of memory sweeps through his mind, the image of that day on the roof when Tsuna reached out and offered his friendship as Yamamoto was ready to end it all. A sad sort of smile tugs his lips, though he attempts to hide the nostalgia from the other. It’s a happy day and memories of the past, no matter how much they affected the day’s outcome, belong in the past. 

“You looked good. I thought Gokudera was gonna cry for a minute, but I think he’ll make it through the rest of the day,” he responds, a lighthearted laugh expelling as he leads Tsuna out of the conference hall. “I’m sure you have a few things to take care of. Let me get out of your hair, yeah?” 

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Spotting Hayato not far from the entrance, he waves him over and teasingly calls out, “Yo! Gokudera! Did you manage to find a box of tissues? Hahaha!”

     It’s surprising how much has changed in just a few years, Gokudera realizes when he watches Tsuna accept his title, the stubbornness of his youth long gone, the realization of his role in this life finally understood. It’s strange to think that through this emotional and mental transformation, he’s been there to watch it, and hadn’t even noticed until today. Vaguely, he wonders if the others feel the same and he can assume by the looks on their faces, at least some of them do. That’s good; it means they’ve been close to the Tenth this whole time, if they hadn’t noticed a change from his middle school self until now.

      A smile graces his lips—they’ve come so far.

     The ceremony is over in what feels like the blink of an eye and even when it’s over Hayato’s feet move before his brain does and he’s surprised to find he’s gone outside. Ah well, he needed a breather anyway—too many emotions all at once and he’s never been good with feelings. His hand runs through his hair as he stairs up at the clear sky, wondering what lays ahead for them now and knowing that they’ll all make it, no matter what it is, and a soft, content sigh escapes his lips.

     Ten years, they’ve waited to see Tsuna take his place and now that it’s happened… What awaits them? It’s not a chilling thought or one that is greeted with negativity, but it’s something to take in stride. New challenges, new roles, and as his gaze shifts to the ring on his finger he realizes everything is coming together. Dreams, hopes, wishes… And now, they’re finally free to make more of those wishes and more of those wants for the future and it’s a weight lifted from his shoulders to know he can dare to reach for more.

     He shakes his head, silver locks swaying in time to the movement and turns on his heel, walking back inside. He stops in the doorway for a moment when Yamamoto catches his eye and continues walking when speech is directed at him.

     ”I wasn’t crying, baseball idiot.” He snaps, though it’s lighter than usual, almost teasingly rude and the name he calls the Rain Guardian is but a memory now, any sting it may have had long gone with their teenage years. He reaches Yamamoto, stopping two feet in front of him and there’s a pause, then a smile, a light, short laugh and he nods. “Ten years. Looks like we all made it in one piece.”

pioggiatutore replied to your post: Supposed to be working on replies instead I’m…

[ You’re golden. The end. <3 ]

[ //gently rolls you off a cliff ]

ladro-di-sogni replied to your post: ladro-di-sogni replied to your post: May 12th…

[ maybe he just wants a drinking buddy you don’t know ]

[ He doesn’t though does he there’s a master plan somewhere in there ]

altairis