Hie
.
Xanxus
.
Fuck this.
And fuck all this fucking snow.
With a truly ferocious scowl, Xanxus trudges through the endless white mass, snarling under his breath as his freezing cold fingers once again fail to activate the Internet on his phone.
No fucking service, for anything. Best phone in the whole Mafia his fucking ass.
He'd desecrate Mammon when he got back, the bloody Arcobaleno would pay. Probably in money, where its hurt the little fucker most.
His father better figure out what trash has dared to drop him in this situation; all Xanxus can remember was assembling the Varia for a hit on some mad scientist type, who'd dared to shoot him with some crazy and fuck invention.
Then, he opens his eyes to this fucking wasteland.
.
With a scowl that hasn't left his face since he woke up in fuck who knows where, Xanxus tightens the inadequate suit jacket around his body that little bit more. His flames are roaring about inside him, and Xanxus palms the gun by his side as best he can, given the almost frozen state of his extremities.
Fuck.
This.
Shit.
.
Eddard
.
They're a day into the King's visit when it happens.
His guards have but a moment to warn him, before a boy trudged through the first gates of Winterfell, swearing up a storm as he looks around him. He's older than his own sons, but only just, balancing upon the edges of boy and man-grown.
His language is enough to redden even Ned's ears.
Catelyn lets out horrified gasp beside him, slamming her hands over Sansa's ears to spare her.
"The bloody hell is all that racket?!" Robert stumbles up beside him, pausing to stare down at the furious big, who finally seems to have noticed them.
The stranger looks up with boiling red eyes and Ned's innards freeze.
Red eyes.
Demon.
"Where in the fucking name of Primo am I?!"
Robert blusters, chest rising to retort -no doubt to tell the lad to not speak to a King that way- and as such, only Ned catches the slight movement of the demon boy.
"Now listen here, Boy! Yo-"
An almighty bang echoes through the air and his Lady Wife screams.
Ned's eyes focus on the smoking hole that sits right in the metal of Robert's crown. There's singed hair, whatever hit him was moving so fast it burnt a few stands of hair too. The similar hole in the stone wall behind Robert isn't promising either.
"Next one goes through your fucking head, Trash."
Ned has always loved his wife, knew she was fierce, but witnessing her usher Sansa inside and then stare down this demon boy, his respect blooms faster than a summer flower.
"Who are you to make such demands of us?!"
If anything, the boy at least has the manner to not hurt his Lady Wife.
For while Robert trembles in the face of his near death, he gives her a stern nod of his head, wild black hair rattling the feather and tail adornments within.
"I'm Xanxus fucking Vongola. I'll be out of your fucking hair when the Trash figure out what the fuck happened. I need a place to crash until then though."
This mad creature, wants to stay within Winterfell?
He can almost feel Catelyn tremble in fear, and Robert is clearly going to be no help here, given how deep in shock he's fallen.
"And if we refuse?"
"I put a bullet through you and ask the fucker next in line."
A 'bullet' must be what passed through Robert's crown and the stone wall , truly could not turn this boy down. Not until they understood what they were up against anyway.
"You will harm no one," he says instead, despairing over the fact it sounds a little less like an order than it should.
And the demon, Xanxus, grins, feral and not a look that belongs upon a boy so close to Robb's age.
"As long as the trash stays out of my fucking way."
.
Bonus Content
Squalo
.
"Boss! We're here to rescue you!"
A wine glass sails through the air, colliding with Levi's head and sends him crashing to the ground before Squalo.
The swordsman steps over his fallen comrade, snorting as he does so.
Even in another fucking world, Xanxus still manages to find a fucking throne to perch his lazy ass upon.
"VOI! Shitty Boss! Time to go!"
The servants around them tremble in fear at his bellow, though Xanxus only laughs atop that fucking waste of swords.
Who the fuck would ruin so many good swords like that?! That shit needs to be answered for, even if judging by the metal, the shitty creator is long dead.
"It's about time you fuckers turned up. The trash here is weak as fuck."
UPDATE; Added a little bonus bit at the end. Because I thought of the throne and Squalos reaction to that sacrilege of all those swords and couldn't help myself.
Just a quick little Oneshot with an idea I liked, though -on the off chance- anyone does want to continue it, let me know?
Tsume
xxx