vongola cloud

Hibari Kyoya Week(ish)!

Hello hello hello what do we have here? The second Hibari Kyoya week(ish) celebration!!! We all adore Hibari so this blog is for us to give him the biggest birthday bash!

I’m recycling old prompts from last year because I like them. But when will this birthday extravaganza begin and end?

May 4-7

Here are the prompts for the days:

Thursday May 4: Leader

Friday May 5: Birthday

Friday May 6: Guardian

Saturday May 7: Time/AU

Sunday May 8: Friends/ Your choice

Rules for the event:
- Anything is allowed for this. Edits, gifs, fanart, fics, etc.
- If you have created something but it is on another website, make sure the link works so we can be able to see it.
- What you created (mostly fanart/fics) must be yours. Anything reposted/stolen will be ignored.
- Ships are allowed.
- Let’s also keep it sfw.
- If you have any questions, please send a message/ask to this blog and not my other khr blogs.
- The tag will be “hibarikyoyaweekend”
- All the things tagged as such will be reblogged to this blog. Make sure to tag it or else I can’t see it or won’t know about it!!
- Have fun and be respectful!

anonymous asked:

♜ - ♠ - ♙ For Hibari <3 Thank you

❤️ Hibari

♙. Sharing a bed
Even with four naps per day, Hibari still needed his calm and comfy hours of sleep when the night came, and when he first began to sleep with you, he realized he could say goodbye to all of his little comfort.
Falling asleep in a position right after pulling the duvet up and waking up in the exact same eight hours later ? Not possible anymore, the way you move and whine during your sleep wakes him up twenty times per night.
Finding the perfect temperature between his own body heat and the temperature of the room ?
Not possible anymore, why do you tug on the comforter all the night with how hot you are, by the way, how could you be so hot and have your feet so frozen, are you ill or something?

Arms crossed, back against the wall, Hibari looked a the alarm clock on the nightstand displaying 2 a.m, his grey hues stopped on your form when you moved again, a frown adorned your peaceful face to vanished when you snuggle against his side, dropping a sleepy arm around him. He sighed, closing his eyes to open it again on your content smile, «Stupid little thing.», his head went on the top of yours as his arms sneaked around you, with a last sigh, he let the slumber embraced him again with, for last thought, that, in this end, the warmth of your arms worthed some lost hours of sleep.

♜. Shoulder rubs
Hibari as smart as he was, wasn’t the type to know how social things work. Terrorized every single person who cross his way, fight against and beat the hell out of half of Namimori school, sure he knew how to handle all of this but he had no single idea how to approach the only person who made him feel terribly weak on the inside.

And when he caught himself wondering all those weird stuff, he slapped his mind hard enough because he couldn’t accept to be easily distracted, he was brought out of his daze he when he felt someone pushing him and he was ready to pulled out his tonfas at who dared to stroke his shoulder, when he got a glimpse of your apologetic smile as you continue walking, his mind shuted and he wasn’t able to move, the perfume of your hair, the stupid smile always tugging at your lips and the sound of your melodic voice were all in his mind again.

♠: Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc.
Hibari looked at himself in the mirror, sighing at his reflection for the tenth time in the last twenty minutes. In one frustrated motion, he pulled out his tie completely, frowning at the wrinkled piece of black fabric in his hands.
Before he was able to throw it on the couch, you grabbed his wrist and welcomed his pissed expression with an amused look, you seized the poor cravat before slipping it around his neck one more time.

He watched silently as your skillful fingers work with precision and detailled all the features of your concentrated expression, with a triumphant look, you backed away, looking at the perfect tie knot around his pale neck, you approached your hands again, fixing his shirt collar.
And it was your turn to frown when he swept you away, the annoyed wrinkle still painting his forehead, he turned around, throwing a glance at the new accessory freshly add to his suit, the pout was still present on his thin lips when he tugged on the tie to remove it again.
With a shrug and a brief look at your surprise expression, he stated.«Tch, mind your own business, I can do it myself.»

Our Cloud

Prompt: Guardian


Seated in the plush red seat across from Don Pecora, Tsuna listened to his angered rant. He kept particular attention on the overweight man’s tone and body language, but he did not have concerns over Pecora attempting to harm him. At least, not by his own hands. Tsuna didn’t miss how he was placed rather neatly in front of a large plate-glass window, his back facing the scenery displayed outside. He also knew how enraged Pecora was over his continuous refusal to integrate their Families a little more closely together. Doing so would ensure a surge in business transactions, which Pecora was lacking. But the Vongola worked alone, and the Family Alliance was mostly a truce between dozens of other Mafia Families with the Vongola—to keep in their good graces.

Pecora didn’t seem to understand the role of the Family Alliance, but that wasn’t surprising. He was incredibly stupid, especially considering why he had lured Tsuna to his mansion (with rather strict instructions that Pecora preferred he come alone). Pecora seemed a bit taken aback that Tsuna had agreed but had taken it in stride. He was seeing this as a rare opportunity to rid himself of a pest, an uncooperative rival, and probably had unattainable visions of usurping the Vongola throne for himself after the assassination was completed.

He clearly did not get what ‘most powerful Mafia Family in the world’ encompassed.

Tsuna waited calmly, discretely shifting his gaze between Pecora and the watch strapped around his wrist. Pecora did not notice his divided attention, no doubt believing this was his chance to call the Vongola Don every name under the sun before he was disposed of.

Obviously delusional.

The seconds ticked down and in the moment a bullet was meant to pass through the glass and into the back of his head, the heavy oak door flew off its hinges. Pecora halted, words dying in his throat at the figure that loomed in the doorway.

Tonfas in hand, flickering with Cloud Flames, Hibari turned a murderous stare on the petrified Pecora. Tsuna stood, stretching his arms over his head and moving aside as Hibari strode forwards. He grabbed the stammering man by his neck, bones cracking beneath his fingertips, and threw him through the broken doorway.

Pecora found himself sprawled out against blood-stained hardwood, his Mafioso prone and moving, scattered down the corridor. A gasp escaped his lips when a foot pressed down against the base of his spine with deadly pressure.

Tsuna crossed his arms over his chest, expression unimpressed. “It’s very insulting, for you to think I would be so moronic as to walk obliviously to my own death. I am not quite sure what you hoped to accomplish here, other than an impulsive grab for power and notoriety. I do not tolerate those who attempt to harm me or my family. This is your doing.”

There was a sickening crack and the man fell limp on the floor. Tsuna let out a quiet sigh and turned his chin, looking down the corridor. He did not like to kill, he despised it. But he knew it could not be helped, not when they were people like Pecora who would like nothing more to destroy him and everyone he loved.

“You didn’t kill all of them, did you?” he asked his Cloud, taking in the carnage properly for the first time.

Hibari turned to face Tsuna with a flat gaze. “What do you think?”

A quiet moan sounded from the other end of the hall, and a beaten Mafioso turned over in agony. Tsuna glanced at Hibari in amusement. “Pretty sure he got the hint after the first couple of blows.”

“Herbivores like these are imbeciles. Only a strong demonstration will teach them the full lesson,” returned Hibari. “They will be scrambling like ants to restore order to their broken hierarchy. Pecora did not get around to choosing an heir. It will be entertaining.”

“Have I ever told you how glad I am you’re on my side?”

“For now.”

There was a smirk on his lips as Hibari turned and stepped over stirring bodies, Tsuna walking beside him. Hibari had taken care of every possible threat to Tsuna’s life, all before the time the plan was meant to be executed. Tsuna knew that Hibari would never fail to protect him or the others, a barrier between them and the enemy.

Gray eyes roaming over the mission file splayed out on the glass café table, Hibari swirled the water around his glass with the straw, the ice clinking together. Ensuring that everything was in order, he closed the beige folder and slipped it into his black leather messenger bag. He shifted his stare to scan the bustling street, his ire increasing when he did not spot the two illusionists amongst an otherwise faceless crowd.

They had arranged to meet him so they could hand over their reports and finish the mission file. Hibari had finished his component of the job two hours ago, and he knew Mukuro and Chrome had already wrapped up their loose ties. They had no reasons to be late.

Hibari was just about to leave when a flash of blue caught his peripheral vision. Mukuro strode down the sidewalk, a lazy expression on his features. He caught the punch Hibari aimed at his face and said, “I’m only ten minutes late.”

“It’s disrespectful to be even a minute late,” snapped Hibari. “I should have left nine minutes ago.”

Mukuro smirked. “Am I that vexing that you would leave Chrome behind to spite me?”

Hibari stared, eyes narrowing. “What is that supposed to mean?”

It was Mukuro’s turn to become confused. He had noticed Chrome was not around when he arrived, but assumed she was either in the bathroom or ordering food from inside the restaurant. “She left before me. I couldn’t locate my portion of papers, so I had to search for them. She’s not here?”

“No. When only you arrived I thought you were delivering her report as well.”

Hibari did not feel any negative emotions from Chrome, but he was not going to rule out foul play completely. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, dialling the girl’s number. When she did not answer, he scowled and hung up. Mukuro frowned, brow furrowed. “She’s not responding to my mental summons either.”

Activating the app that let him track other cell phones, Hibari entered Chrome’s number. Immediately a blue dot appeared, a few blocks away from where they were. Mukuro peered over his shoulder and said, “Let’s go.”

Slipping a hand beneath Hibari’s arm, Mukuro transported them to the location. When they rematerialized, they found themselves outside of an animal shelter. Children and adults were playing with the dogs and cats tied to their cages. Sitting against the building, an armful of fluffy white, black and brown kittens in her arms, was a blissful Chrome.

Mukuro stared for a moment, his tense muscles loosening with relief. “Kufufufufu. Should have known.”

Hibari strolled across the street and Chrome looked up. Her eye widened at the sight of him, suddenly realizing where she should be. “I’m sorry—”

Her apology was cut off by a quiet yip when Hibari threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling sharply and craning her neck at an uncomfortable angle. “When you’re not holding fragile baby cats, you’re getting bitten to death. Be where you’re supposed to be and if you’re taking a detour, tell someone. Why didn’t you answer your cell phone?”

“I might have forgotten to turn on the ringer,” said Chrome sheepishly.

At the glower he directed at her, Mukuro strode forwards. “Relax, Kyoya. She got a little sidetracked—”

Hibari’s other hand shot out and planted against Mukuro’s chest. “You need to stop wasting my time and learn punctuality.”

His annoyance was clear, but beneath Chrome could feel subtle concern. She tugged on his pant leg. “I’m sorry. I should have let you know where I was. But I saw all the animals and I got so excited that I completely forgot.”

“Explains why you didn’t answer my mental summons. It’s never good to let yourself get so distracted,” said Mukuro, tone holding a rebuke.

“I’m really sorry.” Hibari did not seem completely appeased (considering he still had a grip on her short ponytail) Chrome extended a black kitten. “Would you like to hold a kitty?”

The kitten pawed at Hibari’s shirt and the Cloud gathered it into his arms with little hesitation. Chrome and Mukuro exchanged a grin, which Hibari did not miss. Running his fingers through the kitten’s fur, he glared at the two illusionists. “You’re both useless.”

“We love you too,” sang Chrome.

“Take out your reports. We’re getting the paperwork done now.”

“Here?” asked Mukuro, slightly incredulous as Hibari lowered to sit on the concrete beside Chrome.

“Yes. Get your sorry backside down here.”

Chrome was sure no other Mafioso had ever completed mission reports sitting on the ground, covered with kittens. But she was also certain there was no other Mafioso who could accomplish a feat while still looking menacing and threatening like Hibari.

The alley was narrow, and mostly dark with the exception of the pinpricks of dirty yellow light flickering feebly from streetlights, the bulbs most likely haven’t been replaced in years and miraculously still functioning. Footsteps pounded against the cracked concrete, curses and shouts echoing in the night air. The sounds were promptly cut off, one by one, until the alley was once again silent.

Stepping over the bald, tattooed body in front of him, Hibari scanned the area. There were no more thugs charging at him and he continued forwards. His gray eyes were focussed on the bent, rusted steel door at the end of the alley. When he was close enough he raised his foot and it look very little effort to dislodge it from its hinges.

After the dust had settled from the impact of the door striking against a concrete floor, he found himself in the middle of an abandoned warehouse. The four thugs lounging around hollered in shock and anger, immediately charging forwards. Hibari flicked them aside like ants, not breaking his stride.

“Ha ha, I’m glad to see you.”

Hibari did not respond, gray eyes critically studying Yamamoto’s condition. He used his tonfas to break the chains holding his wrists to a half-destroyed metal shelving unit and Yamamoto flexed them to get the feeling back. There were dark red marks indicating where the chains had restrained him, and his right eye was swollen shut, black and purple. There was a cut on his upper lip, dried blood creating a trail on his chin.

“What the hell happened?” demanded Hibari.

Yamamoto stood, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I was in my car, getting ready to go home, when there was a knock on my window. There was a guy asking for directions so I rolled it down so I could help him. Next thing I know I wake up in this warehouse.”

“You opened up your car to a disgusting herbivore like this,” snapped Hibari, angrily kicking a prone piercing-laden punk in the side.

Yamamoto shrugged. “I didn’t open my car—just put down the window. He looked he needed help. I wasn’t in a bad part of town, anyway.”

Hibari shook his head in disgust. “You let your guard down.”

“I did,” admitted Yamamoto. His tone made it clear he was displeased with his inability to handle a simple situation and Hibari knew he had no doubt been humiliated by the thugs. Yamamoto’s turned more sincere and sheepish as he said, “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Don’t be stupid. Let’s get out of here.”

Yamamoto retrieved his katana, which had been thrown carelessly aside after his assaulters had tied him up. The two walked out of the warehouse and down the alley. Hibari caught sight of a cut on the back of Yamamoto’s neck. It was most likely caused by the shelving he was chained to and Hibari said, “Are you up to date on your tetanus shot?”

“Yeah. Why, am I bleeding somewhere?”

Hibari caught Yamamoto’s fingers as they reached back to search for the injury that had prompted his question. “No, but there it is a wound. Don’t touch it or you’ll infect it.”

“Right. Hey, did you see my car?”

“Across the street, in a parking lot. Found the keys in one of the herbivores’ pockets.”

They reached Yamamoto’s car, which was relatively unscathed. Hibari removed the keys and slid into the driver’s seat. Having no protests, Yamamoto lowered into the passenger seat. “I guess they wanted my car to use for parts or money,” he mused.

“Or they were hoping to get some money out of you,” drawled Hibari, pointedly pulling on Yamamoto’s designer shirt, the logo stitched perfectly onto the right breast. “It’s almost ten thirty. What are you doing out here so late?”

“Oh—I wanted some chips, but we didn’t have any.” Yamamoto reached behind him and removed a plastic bag, where a jumbo bag of potato chips was nestled. “Want some?”

Hibari stared at him blankly before starting the car. He inched to the exit of the parking lot, rolling down his window slightly. He nimbly plucked the chips from Yamamoto’s grasp and tossed it out into the trash bin they passed on the edge of the sidewalk. Putting the window back up he pulled onto the street, smirking at Yamamoto’s rather scandalized expression.

“You shouldn’t put garbage like that into your body, herbivore.”

There was a light drizzle, raindrops gently pelting the world below. Ryohei tugged his gray hood further over his head to block the water, eyes roaming the empty park. Hibari was a few feet away, leaning against the metal pole of a broken lamppost. They were shrouded in shadows, only detectable by those who were paying close attention to their surroundings.

There had been news reports of a sexual harasser prowling parks at night, targeting young women out for evening strolls or returning home from work. As the police were having trouble pinpointing the location of his next attack, Ryohei and Hibari were tasked by Tsuna to bring this creep down.

The always talkative boxer was quiet, his body tense and senses on high alert. Hibari knew Ryohei was thinking of the girls in their household, of how they could be just as much at risk of being assaulted. It was a possibility that disturbed Hibari as well, of course, but instead of worrying about the what-ifs, he focussed his attention on finding and eliminating the threat.

After about an hour, Ryohei finally spoke. “Are you sure this is the right park?”

“There’s five he hasn’t staked out yet,” replied Hibari. “It’s the closest to the one he committed his last assault in.”

Ryohei nodded, though his expression remained uncertain. It was another hour before a scream sounded throughout the vast space. It was abrupt, so short that it could have been easily missed if they were not listening for such a sign. Hibari’s ears immediately pinpointed the direction the cry had come from and the two were running, charging down the path and into a small section of trees and bushes.

Halfway through the thicket there was a thick, burly man, kneeling on top of a thrashing brunette female, his hand firmly covering her mouth. He was wearing a baggy hoodie and one hand was working to undo his pants.

The man’s head snapped upwards at the sound of crunching branches, but he did not get a chance to react. Ryohei launched into a flying tackle and brought the man off of the girl. The Sun expressed his disgust with the man’s utter repulsive actions with his fists and a string of curse-laden insults.

Hibari strode forwards, hooking an arm around the sobbing female’s shoulders and bringing her to her feet. Her shirt was torn and she was covered in bruises and dirt, but they had gotten there in time. She choked out words of gratitude and Hibari made a noise of acknowledgement, watching Ryohei unleash his aggression.

When the assaulter was properly bloody Hibari acted, grabbing Ryohei by the back of his sweater and hauling him up. “You made your point,” he said quietly, feeling his back heave with hard breaths.

“Yeah…yeah,” managed Ryohei, struggling to see past his furious haze. The crying of the terrified girl snapped him out of it completely and he hurried to her side, setting a hand on her shoulder in a soothing manner. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Hibari removed his cell phone and called the police, relaying their location. He took a moment to break the criminal’s arm, his screams music to his ears. The cops arrived and took the beaten and blood-soaked man into custody. The girl refused to get into the ambulance without her two rescuers, so Hibari and Ryohei found themselves waiting into the hospital waiting room at one in the morning.

When his adrenaline died down and his mind was clear, Ryohei realized that Hibari only intervened to tell him that he had done enough. He studied the Cloud, expression speculative. Eyes locked on the newspaper, aware of Ryohei’s intent gazing, Hibari spoke up. “What?”

“You hate it when someone takes your prey away from you. Why did you let me do the brunt of the damage?”

“You needed it. Fighting is a thrill, a sport, an activity, a release, therapeutic. It can be all of these at once or only one. Depends on the person, on the fight. You were tightly wound up. If you did not fight the object of your agitation, your aggression, your anger, your emotions would remain bottled up.”

Ryohei was stunned for a brief moment by Hibari’s observation. Eventually he smiled and said, “You’re an interesting character. Thanks to the extreme, Kyoya.”

Warm affection flooded through his bonds and Hibari finally looked up from the newspaper, regarding the white-haired man. “This won’t become a habit,” he warned.

“I know. I just…I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about the girls, about how awful it would be if this happened to them.”

“There’s a stark difference between our girls and this one,” said Hibari, gesturing in the direction where the injured female was being treated.

“What?” asked Ryohei.

“They have me.”

“Don’t you mean us?”

“No.”

But Hibari’s lips turned upwards and Ryohei rolled his eyes good-naturedly, feeling better than he had all night.

The country roads snaked across sprawling green fields, seemingly endless. Gokudera’s tinted shades protected his pale green eyes from the afternoon rays. The car was silent and the radio would have been on if he had a desire to be bitten to death while he was driving. He shifted his gaze to the rear-view mirror, adjusting it so he could glance into the backseat. Hibari had his head leaning back, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest.

Gokudera let his gaze linger before returning his attention to the road. The bright blue sky and emerald scenery was blurred by a scene flashing through his mind, replaying as if on a loop.

Finishing his meeting with Don Gemelli, he was walking down the corridor. He paused upon hearing loud voices around the corner, his name being mentioned. Being referred to as bastard spawn. Brief, obnoxious laughter followed and before he could confront them there was the familiar sound of metal hitting bone. Then there was quiet. He stayed rooted in place for a moment before venturing around the corner, where the two Mafioso were on the ground, unconscious, and Hibari disappearing out the door.

“That was a pretty ballsy move,” he said at last, his mind returning to the present. “One of those guys you clocked is the Don’s son.”

“You woke me up.”

Gokudera rolled his eyes. “You weren’t even sleeping. I could tell by the pattern of your breathing.”

“…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You knew I was in the next corridor. I could have handled those jerks myself.”

“You were too slow.”

There was a solid smack to the back of his head and Gokudera nearly drove off of the road. “Are you trying to kill us?” he snapped. “What’s your problem?”

“The second you start believing such asinine remarks is the moment I bite you to death.”

His serious tone caused Gokudera to shift his gaze briefly over his shoulder. “I don’t,” he returned. “Not anymore. It was hard, when I was younger. I never properly knew my mother, and my life up until that was a lie. I didn’t know who I was.”

“You are who you choose to be. Your past does not have to define you.”

“I know that, now. But thanks.”

Hibari made a hum of acknowledgement, Gokudera’s contentment and affection humming through their bonds. It wasn’t the first time the Cloud had punished those for slandering the Storm’s heritage, and it wouldn’t be the last.

The warm spray of the shower coated his aching muscles, Lambo leaned against the shower wall for support. As much as he wanted to spend eternity underneath the water, he finally unfurled himself and turned off the tap. He stumbled out of the stall and used a towel to pat himself dry. He flinched at the pain that tore through his limbs as he pulled on his pajamas.

He had just finished a hard, intense workout, as well as a session in utilizing and perfecting his Lightning Flames. His body wasn’t used to such physical exertion and it was furious with him. Every fiber of his being was in agony.

Lambo walked sluggishly to his room across the hall, dropping almost weightlessly into his bed. Through the haze of his exhaustion, he managed to process that there was a glass of milk on his nightstand table. With a great amount of effort, he reached for it and chugged the lukewarm contents. The glass clattered back into place and his arm fell to his side, eyes falling shut.

He was half-asleep when footsteps crossed the threshold. Cracking one eye open slightly, he saw Hibari move over to the edge of his bed. His fingers smoothed through his raven curls and the soothing action caused Lambo to let his eye fall shut again. He felt the blankets jerk and shift as Hibari covered his body and then arranged his arms and legs into a more comfortable position.

“You did well, small animal,” said Hibari softly.

The words sent a sharp flare of pride through Lambo and he tried to say thanks, but his tongue would not cooperate. He soon fell asleep completely, and when he awoke the next morning with his muscles stiff and sore, there was a bottle of pain-relieving cream waiting for him.

Hibari was cold, aloof, violent, distant and indifferent. But those who knew him best, those he allowed to be an intimate part of his life, knew there was much more to him. He was reliable and there was never any doubt if he would always be able to come through. He was protective of those he considered his own and fought for them, sometimes subtly and sometimes obviously. He did not let his family think negatively about themselves and gave his advice when he believed it was needed.

He was their Cloud Guardian, the one who would always watch over them.

The Melone Base Infiltration Team

Made with Photo Grid (Android)

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Except Chrome, Lambo, I-pin and Kusakabe huhu because they don’t have a CD cover for that arc.
Also it should have been TYL Hibari but oh well. *cries*