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Vertigo

Summary:

In a world where Soulmates share skills, you find that yours are a bit strange.

Notes:

Hi, yeah, uh, what's with the severe lack of HxH fanfiction on the internet? I know I'm late to the party, so really there should be more for me to feed my thirst, but I'm struggling to find any. Anyway, I wrote a Soulmate AU, it's probs going to be roughly somewhere between 3 and 5 parts unless I just get inspired to do more.

Chapter Text

The first time you kill someone, it’s with a disturbing amount of efficiency.

You were terrified, and fuck you didn’t want to die, why was your luck so bad? But the moment they reached out to grab you, the pocket knife — that you’d had the audacity to insist you would never need when your mother bought it for you — was buried in their neck and you were staring down at a growing pool of blood and no clue how you’d done that. With trembling legs, you’d ran, bolting home and locking the doors with a speed you knew wasn’t yours. You spent the night scrubbing blood off your body and threw your clothes into the fire place — not you’re brightest idea — before collapsing in front of it.

“That’s useful.” You tried to reason with your self. How awesome that you would apparently never need to take a defense class? That was great, right? It didn’t wipe the chill from your body, no matter how positively you tried to spin your near-death experience.

Then came the bruises. The cuts, gashes, broken bones. Your soulmate — silently, you cursed them — didn’t mind taking a beating; sometimes you’d feel a rush of adrenaline or pleasure from the damage inflicted and though in the beginning it made you sick, by the third straight day of misery, you’d been so grateful for at least getting the sick thrill to ease your distress. It was better than not enjoying the pain, that was for sure.

You were certain that your experience wasn’t the norm. Covering bruises with your oddly good makeup skills — that you’d never had prior to turning eighteen and being saddled by the universe with a soulmate — and being bandaged almost constantly made that abundantly clear. It took a year before you adjusted, though it seemed your soulmate had the decency to realize you were there and stop being abused.

Taking the Hunter exams had been a spur of the moment decision. You had skills you never needed to hone thanks to your soulmate, so why not make a living with it? It wasn’t like your life working as a waitress was better. At least hunters had all those sick perks you’d heard patrons whisper about, and any money they earned wasn’t immediately thrown at their landlords. You were startled, though, when you realized you must have done unusually well; popping into the room as number one hundred and eleven was a bit of a surprise for you by the time the count hit the four hundreds.

“Hey! You’re new right?” The sound of a friendly voice was almost relieving; accepting his odd little toast with a quiet judgment you weren’t exactly proud of, you tried to seem pleasant. In reality, you were uncomfortable. You didn’t know why the little alarm bells were going off in your head — it had to be your soulmate; you’d been a relatively carefree person prior to coming of age — until the small sip hit your tongue.

“You poisoned it.” The comment, blurted out in sudden alarm, made both of your eyes widen — what were you supposed to do now? — before he started spluttering apologies, insisting it was a misunderstanding but you knew better. It wasn’t that you could taste the difference, much less smell it, but you knew. After he turned his back, you chunked the still-full beverage at his head, smirking a bit smugly when it connected and made him stumble. The fact it soaked his shirt was just an added bonus.

“How’d you know?” You stiffened at the voice, turning to cock an eyebrow at the white-haired child who had apparently watched the exchange.

“Pretty sure it’s a soulmate thing.” He looked unconvinced at your hesitant shrug, but you couldn’t really expect him to understand. He couldn’t have been older then fifteen, so he was quite a few years from going through his own transition, and the fact you weren’t exactly a people person didn’t help. Explanations weren’t your forte. Well, nothing was your forte. That fact had bothered you for years, even before your soulmate bond formed. You had nothing to offer; no interesting or useful skills to contribute.

“Well. Good luck.” You were surprised at his sudden farewell, but a bit relieved as well, giving a hesitant wave. When the small sip you’d drank didn’t have any effect — oh god, what if you’d been wrong? — you finally let yourself relax enough to weave through the crowd and check out the others there. That was your first mistake.

When you failed to sidestep the man who decided it was absolutely necessary to shoulder by you — and therefor make you stumble into someone else — it was a shock. With your soulmates prowess in all things deadly and graceful, you’d gotten used to not even thinking about missing people. It just happened, now. That was enough of a tip off that it had been a deliberate move; meant to intimidate you, for whatever reason, but you simply glared at his back when he stalked on, unwilling to act on the sudden bolt of manic rage that hit you.

“I’m so sorry.” You apologized to the person who was unfortunate enough to stop you from falling over your own feet, turning to address them. The jester-like man wasn’t even looking at you, though; golden eyes glaring a hole into the back of the man who had caused the incident to begin with.

A strange sense of vertigo hit you, when he finally shifted his attention to you and your eyes met. There was a moment where everything felt suddenly too warm and you couldn’t look away, even when his head cocked to one side and a hint of a smirk pulled at his lips. He was so tall — way, way taller than you — and you were forced to look up as he towered over you; the discomfort of that was probably the only reason you managed to get a hold of yourself as quickly as you did.

“It’s quite alright.” The faux smile he sent you made a chill crawl up your spine. “You’re not the one who should be apologizing.” Oh, thank God. His words made you sag in relief, feeling a weight lift off your chest as you gave him a nervous smile and inched backwards. Everything in you was screaming but you couldn’t pinpoint if it was fear or exhilaration.

“Mm, at least you’re a pretty little thing.” Without much warning, his fingers brushed through your hair. You were positive it was meant to be a soothing motion, but the way his nails grazed your scalp made you shudder — even though it wasn’t exactly an unpleasant sensation — and you didn’t dare to move away.

“You’re—” Everything clicked abruptly for you, infinitely more slowly than it took him to figure out, but before you could finish speaking, you were interrupted by the proctor. Your soulmate winked before slipping away from you, grinning to himself, and while you were tempted to go barreling after him — because you had so many questions — you resisted and tried to focus on the first phase of the exam.


Running through the tunnel didn’t bother you at all, though you made a point to hang around the back of the pack. Sparing your energy was absolutely necessary, because despite the fact you’d been gifted with your other halves skills, it was nowhere near close to his level. A mere drop in the bucket that was his true power. That had become clear to you just by meeting him; you’d been watching him almost obsessively ever since, though he was steadfast in evading you. Knowing that, you’d kept at a distance and observed how he moved, realizing more and more that despite being clearly superior to at least half of the people here, you were still going to be weaker than many others.

Coming out into the open air, you weren’t surprised to find that you were far from your destination still. It just seemed to simple to run to your next phase, with little to no threat or ingenuity involved. Without really noticing, you’d ended up standing next to your soulmate — who you were only then realizing hadn’t even introduced himself to you — and he graced you with a glance your direction, finally, looking amused.

“Do you plan to stop ogling me soon?” You choked, a blush spreading across your features as you pointedly looked away.

“Are you ever going to introduce yourself?” The response made him chuckle; there was a rattling sound that made you pause. A glance to your other side revealed a man covered in pin-needles and you tried not to flinch. How did he just live like that? It had to be uncomfortable.

“Hisoka.” The jester spoke up after a moment, leaning down to whisper his name into your ear. The sudden proximity gave you goosebumps.

“Y/N.” You were nothing if not polite, choosing not to comment about the odd man alongside the pair of you, though he was uncomfortably close.

Before anymore could be said, the examiner began his spill about the deceiving creatures living in Swindlers Swamp, and you decided that you would rush to the front of the group, not willing to risk being separated from it. Well, until the man came around the corner, insisting that the examiner was an impostor. After a brief argument and consideration, you were surprised when Hisoka’s hand whipped out, throwing a pair of playing cards. When it pegged the newcomer in the forehead — killing him instantly — you nodded slowly, that figures floating across your thoughts as you watched the unfolding scene that he caused.

It should have been upsetting, but you couldn’t even muster a frown at the behavior. After a year of him doing who-knows-what and leaving you battered, bruised, and miserable, you were honestly just glad that nobody had decided to jump him for it. Sort of. There was a small sting of disappointment — you’d went on edge at the change in mood, adrenaline hitting you in anticipation — so when it was for not and you didn’t get the payoff of a fight, it was oddly dissatisfying.

“That explains a lot.” You muttered with a huff, amused but unwilling to show it as the running began again and you left him to his own devices. There was a strange flavor in the air that made your body thrum with nerves, and the further you got from Hisoka, the less it affected you, so you just kept going. Pushing until you were almost on the proctors heels; ignoring the screams and panic going on behind you.

Needless to say, you were grateful for the break when you reached the gate to the next phase, plopping down under a tree and catching your breath from the exertion.

The rattling sound was too close, and you jumped when you were joined by the pin-needle man, oddly tense, though he wasn’t looking directly at you. Your nervous greeting went unanswered, so you simply opted for silence. At least with him nearby, the other competitors stayed at a distance, even though you couldn’t shake the sensation of something being off the longer you sat together in silence.

“I’m Y/N.” You tried again, probing the strange man for information. His eyes met yours and there was another moment of vertigo that made anxiety rocket through you. Like Hisoka, he didn’t seem surprised — or even bothered — but you? It wasn’t that you were a vain person. Not by a long shot. But the man smiling down at you was hard to look at. Even if you hadn’t been deathly afraid of needles, the air around him was just off.

“Gittarackur.” You nodded dumbly, turning your gaze from his as soon as possible and wondering if you should discuss this development with Hisoka. You had two soulmates? While it wasn’t unheard of — there were millions of different soulmate bonds out there; for all you knew one of yours was meant to be platonic — it wasn’t something you’d have expected for yourself. No wonder you were so advanced; there was no telling what Gittarackur could do. That compiled with Hisoka’s ability? You quickly recalculated your odds, figuring that unless something just went horribly wrong you were almost guaranteed to pass.

“Guess none of us have to worry about dying.” You tried to joke, wincing when the rattling happened — it occurred to you that the odd head shake that made the noise was a poor imitation of laughter — and hoping he didn’t notice. Death for a persons soulmate was death for ones self. It led to a lot of possessive and unhealthy relationships, filled with paranoia and usually ruining lives. Nobody talked about that, though, always choosing to ignore it in favor of the romanticized aspects, and the benefits of sharing knowledge and ability with someone. You privately hoped that neither of your soulmates were planning to lock you up like a princess in a tower, since they had to know that you were only making it on their survival skills.

“There was never a reason to worry.” It was a comment you hadn’t expected, and you smiled nervously. “Hisoka and I are both quite capable.” Meaning I’m the weak link. You didn’t say it, hoping your uncomfortable silence would be enough for him to understand your anxiety.

“You’ll be fine.” That final rasp was his ending statement as he stood and walked away, selecting another tree to settle under as you contemplated how best to reveal to the two men — that were apparently aware of your little polygamous situation and hadn’t vocalized it to you — that without being their soulmates you probably would have died in the alley of your hometown a week after your eighteenth birthday. The thought that you were an unwanted addition to their situation made you swallow thickly, uncomfortable with that idea. Meeting your soulmate was supposed to be thrilling; you’d always imagined that having more than one would make things better but all you felt was a pit of dread in your gut.


With dark discomfort haunting your thoughts, you struggled to focus on the next phase. It didn’t exactly help that Gittarackur and Hisoka waltzed off together and left you behind. Not exactly indicating that they knew one another, but now that you knew, it seemed so obvious; you knew it was a good move, strategically, to feign like you didn’t know each other, but it hurt.

You definitely took out your emotional turmoil on the pigs. Intercepting one from the stampede was easy enough, and once you realized how to kill them, it wasn’t exactly hard. Quietly, you vowed to explore your limits; see how much of your soulmates power you actually acquired through the bond. Dragging the dead weight was miserable, but you managed it, albeit slower than the other contestants.

Finally, something I can do. You thought with relief, starting the process of gutting the animal and cutting out the chunks of meat that seemed somewhat appetizing. You were apparently the only one with this idea, seeing as everyone else just spit-roasted the thing and called it done; you wondered why they weren’t taking this phase seriously. It was so clear they were seeking ingenuity and creativity. The first roasted pig might pass, but after that? The flavor would get old real quick.

When you finished your dish and presented it, Menchi was already irritated. It didn’t help your chances, but you hoped maybe the fact you’d done something different would be enough to sway her to pass you. The steady stream of fails she’d been handing out was nerve-wracking to listen to.

“Not bad; acceptable presentation… decent flavor… pass!” You were too stunned to move for a moment before practically skipping away from the two hunters, settling down at your work station and watching the chaos of every other fail she handed out. It was impossible to blame her, after the mocking she’d received from everyone about her chosen hunt, in addition to the fact nobody seemed to be trying. Yeah, you couldn’t blame her for failing everyone minus yourself, though the idea of moving on to the next phase alone made your skin crawl with discomfort.

When the chairman came dropping from the sky — undermining Menchi’s authority and making the feminist in you howl with disapproval — and announced that everyone would retake the phase, you’d been irritated. Sure, it was great for everyone else, but you’d passed. You’d put in the necessary effort to succeed; having to retake a different test irritated you. But, seeing Menchi leap into the gorge after a damn egg made you want to puke, even when she came fluttering back up gracefully, egg in hand.

I can’t fucking do that! You hated heights. Being on the airship had made your legs wobble; the sensation of flying unnaturally clear to you. You even struggled in buildings, by the third story you couldn’t get within five feet of a window for fear that something outrageous would happen and you’d end up toppling out.

“Do you need me to push you?” Hisoka asked, too cheerfully over your shoulder and you blanched, jerking back into his form without really thinking; putting as much distance between yourself and the ledge as possible.

“It’d be a real shame if you quit here.” His voice was playful, hands coming to rest on your shoulders.

“I made it farther than most people do.” You argued, swallowing thickly.

“Ah, but, I know who you are,” An amused whisper, tickling at your ear. “You should be more than capable of doing this without incident.” You found that you loved the sound of his voice. It was oddly soothing; despite him towering over you, the warmth of his body behind you was definitely making you relax. When he stepped away, grinning over his shoulder at you before leaping off the cliff; you choked on a gasp when your body was yanked you after him.

It was hard to make your body release the web and fall, too. Without the helpful tug of something invisible to force your hand, it was by sheer willpower alone you managed to let go and snag an egg; knowing it was your only way back to solid ground had played a huge role in that. Clutching it to your chest, you prayed that your timing hadn’t been off, and when the wind finally blasted you back to the top of the cliff, your legs collapsed under you the second you landed. It took you a few seconds to even out your breathing — and shake the urge to vomit — but you managed to get it together enough to stumble away from the edge, adrenaline still pumping through you. Hisoka was cackling to himself, standing across from Gittarackur and you couldn’t help but stare at the pair, feeling distinctly like there was some joke you were missing.

Getting back on the airship made you want to die, despite the cheerful words of the chairman. Just go shower and go to sleep; you’ll be on the ground again when you wake. You tried, desperately, to comfort yourself with that as you struggled to the shower, body trembling despite your attempts at reason. Airships didn’t malfunction often enough for you to be this distressed by flying, but fear wasn’t always reasonable. Once you were clean, you dropped down behind some boxes in a storage room — as if you were dumb enough to trust any of the other participants not to pull something — and closed your eyes, eager for some rest.

You’d had a long day, after all. Meeting not one, but two soulmates; nearly having several heart attacks through the first two phases, and now coming down from your adrenaline high, had taken quite the toll on you. If you’d been able to keep your eyes open long enough, you may have noticed when Gittarackur and Hisoka both placed themselves strategically close to you. Sitting with their backs to opposing walls so that they were able to see if anyone tried to slip behind the boxes hiding your vulnerable form. If the dangerous psycho clown wasn’t enough to deter them, the addition of the disturbing pin-needle man definitely would.

But you weren’t, and you didn’t; sleep took you quickly, and you were glad.