A Katekyo Hitman Reborn! FanFiction by LouiseRisa

The Seven Princes of Hell

Summary: They were gathered together for a reason; with fate or some unearthly being out there pulling the strings. Maybe their name choices weren't that much of a coincidence after all?

Disclaimer: KHR is not mine~!

Edit (20th Oct 2014): A year after its' first publication online, I've decided to give the story a better opening and ending. However, a friend convinced me that it's perfect the way it is, just need some minor editing. I'm leaving the opinions to you guys. So, review please; they're very much appreciated. Plus, would you guys read a version of this for the Decimo Generation? Pretty sure something can be done to fit each Guardian to a Prince.

~…~…~…~…~

When talking about the Varia, there were many things that one would link them to. Whether it's the famous destructive prowess the flames of wrath a certain leader of theirs possessed, the silvery long locks belonging to their second in command, the colorful feather boa that waved their way with pain following not long after, the sting of electrical shock that preceded the unbearable charring sensation of burnt flesh, the bloody puppet show a lost prince would have time to time again, the twisted illusions scarring your soul for eternity, or even the good old fashion machinery bombing; there's only one thing that was certain. The Varia were the incarnations of the Devil himself. You see, a theory started out once upon a Mafia time; the Varia had to be the incarnations of the Devil one way or another that even if they weren't the Devil himself, they had to be at least only one level below of him. This theory was proven further when a certain Vongola Decimo was assumed to be able to control each and every destructive and overprotective Guardian of his along with the famed Varia.

When we talked about Xanxus, he was a man feared by all in the dark world of mafia. Any living sane Mafiosi would have recognized the name as soon as they heard the first syllable being uttered. There was simply no other way to describe the fear they had for the scarred man that was filled to the brim of his soul with a kind of anger like no other. Just as how Reborn had described the Mafioso with a raccoon tail hung on one side of his head as an accessory – a reminder of how he could easily wield his flame of wrath, the poor raccoon being his first kill during the third month Nonno had brought him into the family – anger and hate fueled the man on his quest to achieve whatever it was that he pleased. To put it into one word, Xanxus was wrath packed in one human; Satan in the flesh.

Where Squalo was concerned, he was first known for his almost unusual silver long hair; one that he had kept in promise to his sky. The swordsman had travelled far and wide to learn the way of the sword; even taking his passion for the art to another level when he severed one of his own hands just to understand the way of his opponent at the time was thinking. Squalo was a man of pride if nothing else. It was proven quite literally costing his life during the Rain match for the Vongola rings; he was ready to die under the younger swordsman's blade. Dying in battle was the only way that would save Squalo and his supposedly inflated ego by beating the best of the best in the arts of the sword. Where in Latin he would be known as 'Superbia' that was so akin to his name, Squalo was pride in his own rights; Lucifer in a twisted sense.

Most men would cringe in fear when the name Lussuria was mentioned; the reason was no simpler than the fear raking the men's body with unpleasant shivers just as disgust combed their minds. The flamboyant male had made no effort in hiding the fact that yes, he's homosexual. And yes, he might just have a teensy weensy bit of necrophilia. To be perfectly honest, it was the living man's fault that they'd rejected his advances over and over again that he had to resort to it. Now, if Lussuria had had any say in things, he'd like his men largely build, and living, and well-endowed in the much needed department; someone he could fan himself over and over again for actually wanting him the same way he'd want his lover. Alas, there was no such man; but if the dead could speak and the ones that had had the pleasure of being one of Lussuria's toys before being buried six feet under officially, they'd say that the unlikely man had taken much care of their bodies before they were sent away to the afterlife. Despite his attention for the smallest of details, Lussuria's well-known lust and lechery was rumored to stem from Asmodeus himself; even in the mafia.

If Levi were to be honest to himself, he had hated Xanxus at first sight – envied him even; but as fate was determined to bully the man into submission, Levi was – for the lack of better word – accidentally rescued by him. It was a great afternoon, really; there had been nothing but a slight disturbance in his otherwise mundane life – and that had been the addition to the numbers of Vongola heir. You see, Levi was an abandoned child – his unknown parents had left him on the doorsteps of a Mafioso and said Mafioso brought him back to the Famiglia instead. Back to the afternoon, Levi was practicing his aim with lightning umbrellas with wild game; so focused he was with training that he had failed to notice one small animal that had managed to sneak up to his pack where snack was stored for later. How did Xanxus fell into the picture, you may ask? About 2km away from the scene, in the small garden area was Xanxus throwing a tantrum. No, you may not laugh. A child as the young wrath was at the time, he had wanted something for his afternoon tea and the maids had failed to produce it within his patience limit; on a whim he had shot his flames to his left, which incidentally hit the raccoon that had been sneaking around with Levi's food. Levi's unhealthy adoration for Xanxus had started since then. It was odd really, how he had envied Xanxus for having the charming and powerful Nonno as a father figure when he had none for himself and how he had ended up with the green flame of jealousy each time Xanxus gave any attention to anyone other than himself; it was quite fitting that he wielded the green lightning flames, now that I think of it. Because when there was a green flash of envy, Leviathan should be the answer to your questions.

Many who didn't know the true colors of Prince the Ripper wouldn't know what they were actually dealing with until the bloodlust took over him; it was only by a miraculously undamaged closed circuit surveillance video that they knew of his bloody indulgence with blood spilling. In fact, the main reason Bel had invented his wired knives was not the hidden sharpness that cut his victims into shreds either; it was a simple question of laziness. Being born as a prince had its perks; one of them included a magical thing Bel would like to call 'mini Bell'. It was a lame nickname he had come up with as a child – so obsessed he was with the small jingling bells; he had brought one with him wherever he went. The jingles were rung softly at first, just for the child to test out the shrill ring of the instrument; when he realized that whenever the bell was rung and someone would come to his side, now that was where it all began. Pure curiosity turned into a little fun and mischief as Bel would ring and ask for a servant to aid him, later on it had become something to sate his bloodlust as each servant – no, peasant – that came with the sound of the bell was taken out of duty forever. It was no wonder that his kingdom died out so quickly; the subjects were either killed just for the heck of it or they had fled to preserve their own lives. If it's the epitome of sloth that you're searching for, what more if it's not the prince who only had to ring a bell for his next victim? After all, who else embodied the term better than Belphegor?

The moment Viper realized that she was cursed; she had done everything in her power to erase proof of her existence. The body of a baby had been uncomfortable at first, but as time passed, she realized that her new body could bring more cash in than her adult one. Desperate to hide her identity as splashes of photos of a cute and cuddly baby filled the Internet, Viper had created multiple personas for herself. Where the photos had featured a child no more than one-year-old with violet hair and captivating purple-blue eyes dressed in a multitude of Gothic Lolita, she had kept her usual persona up with the dark cloak and hood. If it had meant rolling in huge yet steady amount of money in each weekend, then she'd gladly put herself in otherwise embarrassing dresses and posed innocently in front the lenses of a camera. There was a reason her favorite persona so far had been Mammon.

When asked about the Cloud Guardian of Varia, the freakishly built Gola Mosca would come to mind. Even though there wasn't any real Cloud to the assassination squad, the Gola Mosca could be said as its designer way to bring humor to the scary group of men – no, no one figured out that Viper was a female; none of the Varia had actually touched their paperwork and let's just say that whenever they had the chance of step foot into the Vongola Mansion, Xanxus was secretly glad that the ring rejected him. Even though the Mosca was originally built for the military, none had gone through the first blueprint for the machine; it was by accident that Shoichi had found out the minor changes that the group of scientists that had been working on building of the Mosca for the Varia's personal use made. One of the scientists – whose name shall not be revealed – had altered the machinery to its rounded appearance. The others, who were frankly quite scared of the one scientist that had made the alteration, only nodded their heads and continued to build the machine diligently; half fearing for their lives. Well, what can I say? A rounded stomach was a sign of gluttony and a definite symbol of Beelzebub; just to complete the set.

~…~…~…~…~

A/N: Found this document lying around my laptop with only its summary done and I was like "Oh, what the heck, let's write this". Created since last year's October, I finally write it in two hours today. Yay me for procrastinating! (Note the sarcasm.) If any of you hadn't notice yet, I'm supposedly on a hiatus from writing; details on my profile.

Here's the reason for the Bolded names (They're the actual seven Princes of Hell):

Satan — Wrath

Lucifer — Pride [(Latin, superbia)]

Asmodeus — Lust [Lust or lechery (carnal "luxuria")]

Leviathan — Envy

Belphegor — Sloth

Mammon — Greed

Beelzebub — Gluttony

Now that you've read this, can you bless this poor student with a review? It'll brighten my day… or night? It's 3am and I'm supposed to be sleeping. xP