An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Ao3 Tags: daemon au, post-canon au, aged up characters, Killua's usual level of intense pining and embarrassment, comfort
Word count: 2,258
Summary:
Killua swallows thickly. “It’s not—It’s not his. Dæmons aren’t real animals, they don’t leave physical traces of themselves behind in this world. Anything you shed or bleed disappears into the air. So this wolverine claw can’t be Jax’s, it belonged to a real wolverine.” Ariney glowers. “I know that. But that’s exactly why you need it.” “...huh?” “Killua, you said so yourself! You can’t have anything of Jax’s. Not just because touching another dæmon is taboo, but because it’s literally impossible. But that doesn’t mean you can’t keep something that represents him. Gon’s dæmon chose the shape of a wolverine. This is a wolverine claw. Why not carry it on you? It might be the only thing that can make you feel better about missing Gon and Jax besides, well, visiting them.”










