Xanxus/Squalo; PG; WEDDING BELLS | prompt #1 "lively"
There were people in the courtyard, guests, so many of them in fact that it was almost hard to breathe. They came in droves, all of them; children with basketfuls of flowers, Mafiosi in wrinkly suits, even that brat Sawada and his team of sniveling guardians. The catering staff was up to its toes serving a variety of odds and ends from thinly sliced eel marinated in pig blood left to congeal overnight to saltine crackers dipped in cheese (for the children). And there Squalo stood amid the excitement, wearing painfully high heels, gripping a handful of flowers. Xanxus chuckled.
Xanxus/Squalo; PG; HOMECOMING | prompt #2 "remorseful"
The wait is long but that doesn’t deter him. Squalo keeps himself busy with assignments he would undertake alone, he keeps himself in constant movement, no time to pause or think or carefully assess the situation. The clang of steel echoes sharp; there is always blood in his hair, his eyes. Without Xanxus around, things are different. Not unmanageable, just different. They go their separate ways; do whatever it is that pleases them. They fight, they kill. They wait. Squalo twists a lock of hair around his finger. The day Xanxus becomes boss, he decides he’ll cut it all off.
Xanxus/Squalo; PG; OVERTIME | prompt #3 "dismiss"
Though it wasn’t his business to pry into what his Boss liked to do in his spare time -- besides of course, kill his liver with expensive alcohol and wear a rut in his favorite stuffed armchair – sometimes, Lussuria wondered why Xanxus often spent a ridiculous amount of time in his study. With Squalo. Granted, Squalo was the Boss’ supposed right hand man, but the hours Squalo spent inside the Xanxus’ study bordered on unreasonably long that Lussuria had even asked Squalo if he ever thought of filing for overtime pay, to which Squalo merely responded, “VOII!” Lussuria guessed that meant no.
Xanxus/Squalo; PG; ISSUES | prompt #4 "weight"
The weight of Xanxus’ issues was alarming in heft. (At least to himself.) Really, you’d think he had a disease that made him age faster than humanly possible, Squalo had it worse; he lost his good hand and had been, at one point, considered a handicapped. He’d made it out alive, grown his hair long, and Xanxus yanked him around like a dog on a leash if you thought of his hair as a leash and Squalo as an overgrown dog who would (not could) bite your hand off. Though, often, Squalo wished he could’ve made Xanxus Boss.
Xanxus/Squalo; PG; MOVING FORWARD | prompt #5 "forward"
It felt like things were finally moving forward. Years of planning, putting it all down on paper, years of waiting and now this was it, the time for action. Squalo could feel the energy buzzing in his fingertips, it made his blood hot, and his hand close around the hilt of his sword. Xanxus’ rage was contagious, and he yanked Squalo forward without preamble and forced his tongue between his teeth. All for show, all for flair, and with a flick of the wrist, he shot them down by the tenfold. He pulled back, smirked, blew the smoke from his gun.
Xanxus/Squalo; PG; DRIVEN BY IMPULSE | prompt #6 "impulse"
Sometimes the impulse to break something just took over. Xanxus’ paid-for-by-that-good-for-nothing-brat-T
6918; PG; MUKURO DISRUPTS| prompt #7 "prowl"
Often times, Hibari strolled Namimori Middle’s lush, sprawling courtyard. It was a hobby, and before, by some odd twist of events orchestrated most probably by that pervert sham of a doctor Shamal, he’d developed an aversion to cherry blossoms, whenever he wasn’t sleeping, he made it a point to devote time to revel in the beauty that was Namimori. In this quaint little town of 3417, man was allowed to be one with nature. Birds flitted over the trees. The leaves rustled quietly. The air smelled uniquely of spring.
“Beautiful is it not? Hibari Kyouya.” Kufufu. Hibari’s mouth thinned.
8059; PG; FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE |prompt #8 "cut"
Gokudera stared, long and hard. Yamamoto had crushed three of his ribs before, broken a thumb, bruised his jaw, sprained his ankle, grazed his knee, injured one eye, and one occasion was kneed in the crotch and he didn’t need any help recovering then. But now he was asking Gokudera to nurse him back to good health. He’d cut his thumb making sushi attempting to impress Gokudera. Yamamoto laughed sheepishly. At seventeen, he was still the biggest dumbass Gokudera had ever met. “Na, Gokudera. Kiss it for me?” He grinned hopefully. Gokudera threw a handful of wasabi in his face.
LussuRyo; PG-13; EXTREME TUESDAYS | prompt #9 "compromise
On Tuesdays because, well, everyone knew Tuesdays were extreme!, Ryohei was on top. He was the most extreme! top in the world, if not the best. He did whatever job was handed to him with vigour, speed, and a sunny disposition that came unmatched. The rest of the week Lussuria propped Ryohei into backbreaking positions he said felt absolutely fabulous~ especially if Ryohei tilted his hips just so and tightened his legs just so. Sometimes, on Fridays, because Ryohei loved Fridays, Lussuria allowed him to be on top though the mechanics remained the same: he was on the receiving end.
note: drabbles written for 100_prompts.
status 9% completed.
word count: 905.