Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2025-06-17 04:20 pm
rionaleonhart) wrote2025-06-17 04:20 pm
Fanfiction: Kindred Spirits (The Hundred Line/Horizon Zero Dawn, Yugamu/Nil)
I am legally required to write this Hundred Line/Horizon Zero Dawn crossover. Yugamu and Nil are both so horny for murder; it would be a travesty if they never met!
Title: Kindred Spirits
Fandom: The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy/Horizon Zero Dawn
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Yugamu/Nil
Wordcount: 1,200
Summary: Yugamu and Nil meet and murderflirt. Look, someone had to write this.
It’s the screams that catch Yugamu’s attention, of course. A sound that’s always instinctively attracted him, even if it’s often drawn lovelessly out of the throat.
The screams – multiple voices, a beautiful chorus – are coming from some kind of haphazardly constructed settlement. A bandit camp, most likely; Yugamu has been attacked near similar places before, by men who swiftly regretted their decision.
He’ll find no love here. Some hapless passers-by who wandered into the wrong place, or someone taking revenge for a robbery; that’s all it’ll be.
But the noise is beautiful, still. He can’t resist taking a peek.
He finds cover in the long grass, creeps a little closer.
What he sees takes his breath away.
The killer is one man, a Carja, fighting with bow and knife, and every one of his kills is a work of art. Sometimes he’ll let an arrow fly straight through the throat; sometimes he’ll carve a man open from sternum to hip, taking his time and quickly dispatching anyone who tries to stop him.
Quick or slow, blade or bow, there’s love in every death he delivers. Every movement intentional, a fierce joy in every strike. Yugamu can see the way it all builds to a greater whole, a symphony of murder.
He has to withdraw a little, although it breaks his heart to worsen his view. He’s breathing too heavily; the killer might hear it, and, although it would no doubt be a pleasure to die at his expert hand, Yugamu has no intention of being killed by someone he hasn’t even met.
For now, he keeps his distance and enjoys the show.
When it’s over, Yugamu’s intriguing stranger examines the bodies at leisure, apparently reflecting on his handiwork. Yugamu is glad to see that none of the bandits managed to get the better of him. He doesn’t mean to get ahead of himself, but... well, he can see a great deal of potential here, and he’d hate to see their relationship ended by someone else’s hand before it’s even begun.
It would probably be safest to tail the stranger to more neutral ground, approach him somewhere he’ll be less likely to assume Yugamu is an enemy. But Yugamu can’t resist sneaking up behind him, putting an arm around his body and a knife against his neck. Childish behaviour, the act of a boy with a crush; Yugamu wants to impress him.
The stranger laughs, low and dark in his throat, and Yugamu allows himself a shiver of excitement at the knowledge that he’s the cause of that sound.
“You’ll forgive me for stopping to watch, I hope,” Yugamu murmurs into the stranger’s ear. “It’s rare that I get to see such an artist at work, family excepted.”
A pause. Yugamu keeps his muscles tensed, prepared for an attack. This man will kill him in an instant if he gets the chance, and, intoxicating as the thought is, that isn’t the plan.
“I don’t often meet someone who appreciates the art,” the stranger says at last.
“No?” Yugamu asks. “It’s hard to imagine anyone seeing that display and coming away unappreciative.”
“Most people who see it don’t come away at all.”
Yugamu laughs at that. “I suppose not.”
When the stranger lashes backwards with his blade, Yugamu is ready for it. A couple of quick steps back, a block with his own long-bladed knife. The stranger’s edge grazes Yugamu’s wrist, draws blood. Yugamu’s heart is singing.
Yugamu backs off just a little further. Not far enough to invite the bow. “I don’t intend to kill you.”
The stranger’s expression changes at that, from the delight of bloodlust to naked, gratifying disappointment. “Oh, fight back for me. I can tell you’d be a challenge. Don’t waste your last moments.”
“I don’t intend to kill you yet, I should say,” Yugamu allows. “Why don’t we take the time to talk? You seem interesting, and I’d like to imagine you might think the same of me.”
The stranger considers him for a long moment.
“Why not?” he asks at last, sheathing his knife. “Less fun, but I can talk with words as well as weapons.”
“Tell me your name,” Yugamu requests.
“Nil,” the stranger says. “Yours? And your tribe, perhaps; I’d say you’re Carja from the shadowed eye, but I don’t know those piercings.”
“Nil,” Yugamu echoes, slowly, tasting the sounds in his mouth. “I’m Yugamu. No tribe in particular.”
Nil smiles at that. “I like tribeless men. Easier to kill. Nobody misses them.”
Where has this man been all of Yugamu’s life?
“You might find this one puts up a fight,” Yugamu says, unable to repress his own smile.
There’s something dark and inviting in Nil’s eyes. “Just the way I like it.”
Yugamu can’t let himself get swept up in the moment. Nil does, admittedly, seem like the person of his dreams in every respect, but Yugamu wants something meaningful; he can’t throw himself into kill-or-be-killed combat when he knows nothing but Nil’s name.
And Nil’s just killed so many bandits. If they fight to the death here, and Yugamu falls, will he just be one body amongst many in Nil’s memory? The thought repels him.
Perhaps Nil would still manage to do the moment justice, though. There was such poetry in his massacre.
“Did you know your victims?” Yugamu asks, gesturing to the bodies surrounding them.
“I know they’re bandits,” Nil says, “and I know they bleed like anyone else. What else does a man need to know?”
“There was so much passion in your work,” Yugamu says. “I thought perhaps you had some sort of... personal relationship.”
“We had the most personal relationship of all.” Nil stoops to run his fingers through the bloodied hair of a corpse at his feet. “I’m the one who killed them.”
It’s a thought that leaves Yugamu breathless. If he could adopt this philosophy, if he could bring this attitude into his own life, wouldn’t his work be infinitely more satisfying? No more loveless murders; the act of murder itself would be a bond between himself and his victim.
“There’s a lot I could learn from you, I think,” Yugamu says. “It’s hard for me to find pleasure in killing people I don’t know.”
“Every death is unique.” Nil straightens up to look Yugamu in the eye. “Beautiful, in its own way. Even if you don’t know your victim, you can appreciate the fact that, by killing them, you’re becoming the most important person in their life. You can feel all the days you’re taking from them.”
Yugamu breathes the words in, slowly. He’s never felt understood like this before.
“You’re right, though.” Nil runs a finger lovingly along the string of his bow. “Nothing compares to tasting the blood of someone you know well.”
There’s silence for a moment, no sound but the wind rustling the clothes of the corpses around them.
“Perhaps you’d like to know each other better,” Yugamu suggests.
There’s hunger in Nil’s grin. “Perhaps I would.”
Title: Kindred Spirits
Fandom: The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy/Horizon Zero Dawn
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Yugamu/Nil
Wordcount: 1,200
Summary: Yugamu and Nil meet and murderflirt. Look, someone had to write this.
It’s the screams that catch Yugamu’s attention, of course. A sound that’s always instinctively attracted him, even if it’s often drawn lovelessly out of the throat.
The screams – multiple voices, a beautiful chorus – are coming from some kind of haphazardly constructed settlement. A bandit camp, most likely; Yugamu has been attacked near similar places before, by men who swiftly regretted their decision.
He’ll find no love here. Some hapless passers-by who wandered into the wrong place, or someone taking revenge for a robbery; that’s all it’ll be.
But the noise is beautiful, still. He can’t resist taking a peek.
He finds cover in the long grass, creeps a little closer.
What he sees takes his breath away.
The killer is one man, a Carja, fighting with bow and knife, and every one of his kills is a work of art. Sometimes he’ll let an arrow fly straight through the throat; sometimes he’ll carve a man open from sternum to hip, taking his time and quickly dispatching anyone who tries to stop him.
Quick or slow, blade or bow, there’s love in every death he delivers. Every movement intentional, a fierce joy in every strike. Yugamu can see the way it all builds to a greater whole, a symphony of murder.
He has to withdraw a little, although it breaks his heart to worsen his view. He’s breathing too heavily; the killer might hear it, and, although it would no doubt be a pleasure to die at his expert hand, Yugamu has no intention of being killed by someone he hasn’t even met.
For now, he keeps his distance and enjoys the show.
When it’s over, Yugamu’s intriguing stranger examines the bodies at leisure, apparently reflecting on his handiwork. Yugamu is glad to see that none of the bandits managed to get the better of him. He doesn’t mean to get ahead of himself, but... well, he can see a great deal of potential here, and he’d hate to see their relationship ended by someone else’s hand before it’s even begun.
It would probably be safest to tail the stranger to more neutral ground, approach him somewhere he’ll be less likely to assume Yugamu is an enemy. But Yugamu can’t resist sneaking up behind him, putting an arm around his body and a knife against his neck. Childish behaviour, the act of a boy with a crush; Yugamu wants to impress him.
The stranger laughs, low and dark in his throat, and Yugamu allows himself a shiver of excitement at the knowledge that he’s the cause of that sound.
“You’ll forgive me for stopping to watch, I hope,” Yugamu murmurs into the stranger’s ear. “It’s rare that I get to see such an artist at work, family excepted.”
A pause. Yugamu keeps his muscles tensed, prepared for an attack. This man will kill him in an instant if he gets the chance, and, intoxicating as the thought is, that isn’t the plan.
“I don’t often meet someone who appreciates the art,” the stranger says at last.
“No?” Yugamu asks. “It’s hard to imagine anyone seeing that display and coming away unappreciative.”
“Most people who see it don’t come away at all.”
Yugamu laughs at that. “I suppose not.”
When the stranger lashes backwards with his blade, Yugamu is ready for it. A couple of quick steps back, a block with his own long-bladed knife. The stranger’s edge grazes Yugamu’s wrist, draws blood. Yugamu’s heart is singing.
Yugamu backs off just a little further. Not far enough to invite the bow. “I don’t intend to kill you.”
The stranger’s expression changes at that, from the delight of bloodlust to naked, gratifying disappointment. “Oh, fight back for me. I can tell you’d be a challenge. Don’t waste your last moments.”
“I don’t intend to kill you yet, I should say,” Yugamu allows. “Why don’t we take the time to talk? You seem interesting, and I’d like to imagine you might think the same of me.”
The stranger considers him for a long moment.
“Why not?” he asks at last, sheathing his knife. “Less fun, but I can talk with words as well as weapons.”
“Tell me your name,” Yugamu requests.
“Nil,” the stranger says. “Yours? And your tribe, perhaps; I’d say you’re Carja from the shadowed eye, but I don’t know those piercings.”
“Nil,” Yugamu echoes, slowly, tasting the sounds in his mouth. “I’m Yugamu. No tribe in particular.”
Nil smiles at that. “I like tribeless men. Easier to kill. Nobody misses them.”
Where has this man been all of Yugamu’s life?
“You might find this one puts up a fight,” Yugamu says, unable to repress his own smile.
There’s something dark and inviting in Nil’s eyes. “Just the way I like it.”
Yugamu can’t let himself get swept up in the moment. Nil does, admittedly, seem like the person of his dreams in every respect, but Yugamu wants something meaningful; he can’t throw himself into kill-or-be-killed combat when he knows nothing but Nil’s name.
And Nil’s just killed so many bandits. If they fight to the death here, and Yugamu falls, will he just be one body amongst many in Nil’s memory? The thought repels him.
Perhaps Nil would still manage to do the moment justice, though. There was such poetry in his massacre.
“Did you know your victims?” Yugamu asks, gesturing to the bodies surrounding them.
“I know they’re bandits,” Nil says, “and I know they bleed like anyone else. What else does a man need to know?”
“There was so much passion in your work,” Yugamu says. “I thought perhaps you had some sort of... personal relationship.”
“We had the most personal relationship of all.” Nil stoops to run his fingers through the bloodied hair of a corpse at his feet. “I’m the one who killed them.”
It’s a thought that leaves Yugamu breathless. If he could adopt this philosophy, if he could bring this attitude into his own life, wouldn’t his work be infinitely more satisfying? No more loveless murders; the act of murder itself would be a bond between himself and his victim.
“There’s a lot I could learn from you, I think,” Yugamu says. “It’s hard for me to find pleasure in killing people I don’t know.”
“Every death is unique.” Nil straightens up to look Yugamu in the eye. “Beautiful, in its own way. Even if you don’t know your victim, you can appreciate the fact that, by killing them, you’re becoming the most important person in their life. You can feel all the days you’re taking from them.”
Yugamu breathes the words in, slowly. He’s never felt understood like this before.
“You’re right, though.” Nil runs a finger lovingly along the string of his bow. “Nothing compares to tasting the blood of someone you know well.”
There’s silence for a moment, no sound but the wind rustling the clothes of the corpses around them.
“Perhaps you’d like to know each other better,” Yugamu suggests.
There’s hunger in Nil’s grin. “Perhaps I would.”
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(Have you seen Hunter x Hunter? I keep thinking of Illumi as being another one of these characters.)
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(The mangaka of HxH is married to the mangaka of Sailor Moon, for added interconnected series weirdness.)
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Hehehe!
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