#admin giotto

Xanxus:Xanxus isn’t sure how they wound up together, but somehow it works. She keeps him grounded in ways he never expected. It’s ridiculous, he thinks, that he fell in love with girl who refuses to kill even spiders.Her hands are cupped around the little arachnid as she nudges the door open with her foot, and releases the creature onto the ground.He’d been about to kill it, hand raised to exterminate it quickly, lips tugged down in annoyance-  -And she’d grabbed his hand, frowning at him like he’d been about to commit an atrocity.“Xanxus! Leave the poor thing alone!”He wondered, absently, how someone so soft could be so beautiful. How was it that she didn’t annoy the living daylights out of him, even as she coaxed the worthless bug into her hands, unbothered by its nature.Somehow, she loved even the things that sent others screaming.(Maybe that’s how she fell in love with him, he thinks.)“It’s just a spider,” He scoffs, trailing after her. He’d wondered what she could possibly be doing with the damn thing, but his eyes drifted down to the sway of her full hips, swinging with each step.“That doesn’t mean it deserves to die,” She told him sourly, and bent down. The swell of her belly made it awkward, and before she could lose her precarious sense of balance, he reached for her waist to steady her. “It never did anything to you.”She huffs and turns around, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes.“It was living in my bathroom.”“Maybe you were living in its bathroom!”———-Hibari:Hibari had known about the litter of kittens before she’d even set foot inside the house with them. She’d found them in a damp cardboard box around 2PM, just after lunch at her favorite cafe. The meows had caught her attention, and she only paused to stroke each of their heads before marching home with them, box and all.As if Hibari wouldn’t know his pregnant wife’s whereabouts and activities at all times. And he’d like to blame the acquisition on her pregnancy- hormones, or anticipation of being a mother, maybe- but in the end it didn’t matter.This was just who she was. This was the woman he had married, long before she was carrying their child.She knew he’d never say no to the baker’s dozen of fuzzy bodies, squirming and bumping into each other, eyes barely open. Still, they bumbled across her lap, each of them already vying for her attention. After all, she was their mother, now.He’d never seen her more at home than she was, cradling a kitten in one hand and a bottle in the other, carefully guarding the rest from wandering off the edge of her lap- or what little there was left of it, with a rapidly growing bump taking up more and more room. Still, she seemed to balance the kittens perfectly. She was a natural mother- always nurturing and caring for whatever animal she’d managed to find.He knew she often helped lost children at the grocery store, and stopped by the park to watch them play. Now, she was at ease with a lapful of them, furred as they might be.When he took a seat next to her, scooping a few of her kittens into his own lap, she didn’t so much as startle- simply handed him a bottle.“The one with the speckled nose already ate.” The kitten was nudging Hibari’s bottle greedily, and he gently lifted one of its brothers instead.“You’re in charge of finding them homes, this time.” He tells her as the black ball of fuzz in his hands bats playfully at the nipple instead of latching. “We can’t keep them.”“Fine,” She sighs heavily, like he’s given her a great burden. But there’s a soft smile tugging at her lips as she chooses a new kitten for their turn. “I’ll get rid of the poor, orphaned babies.”Hibari rolls his eyes, and his kitten finally settles down to eat.“Maybe we’ll keep this one,” He concedes as it nips his finger instead of the bottle. “He has more fight than his siblings.”“Why do you get to pick one to keep? That’s not fair!”“I’m not the one who keeps bringing them home, that’s why.” He smirks, satisfied with her pout.“I’m keeping this one.” She proclaims, cradling one of the litter to her breasts as it meows in protest of being separated from its brothers and sisters.

“Why that one?” Hibari does not give her breasts an appreciative glance as he asks, not even if a kitten is the perfect excuse

“Her tail is bent,” She rubs its chin with a delicate finger, eliciting a raspy purr from its little throat. “The other cats will make fun of her. So she needs us to love her.”

Sure enough, the orange tabby’s tail was crooked to the side midway. A small, private smile graced Hibari’s lips- one only his dear wife seemed capable of drawing from him.

“You’re so determined to love the misfits.”

“Well, I love you, don’t I?” He laughs, soft and genuine.

“Are you telling me I have a bent tail?”

“No, but your nose is going to be if you keep making fun of my kitten!”

They spend the afternoon feeding kittens, and he helps her prepare bottles for the rest of the night. When her alarm goes off after another scarce four hours of sleep, she groans and buries her face in her pillow, still asleep.

Hibari smooths the covers over her shoulders and takes a bottle to the chorus of meows awaiting him in the kitchen, and thinks of the child he’ll soon be soothing after a midnight feeding.

[ Ahh I love prompts like these! I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope enjoy it!

                                                                                                                  –Giotto ]

Dino:

Dino can’t understand why. They’re perfect for each other. They grew up together, have always been by each other’s side. Been close through thick and thin. It’s obvious. A perfect match.

At first, he tries to court them. Win them over, show them how good they’d be together. That he’d treat them like royalty. They’d want for nothing by his side. He escorts them to parties, having them brought along even if they initially refused. Shows them the prestige and the respect that comes with being by his side.

Gifts them with the finest of things. Clothes, jewlery, technology, furnishings. Lavish restaurants and foods beyond their dreams.

Even when they continue to resist, he works his charm– but he also exercises his influence and power, and they soon find their lease coming to an abrupt end. Having lost their home, Dino uses this as an excuse to have their things brought to the Cavallone mansion. They’re moving in. It’s not a question.

Any attempts to find their own housing will fail. The rent is too high, the landlord nervously denies them for increasingly flimsy reasons, or the neighborhood becomes very suddenly unsafe.

They’ll be let go from their job. Their university loses their records. Dino slowly but surely strips away every resource and every escape. Their world dwindles and narrows until he’s the only thing left.

By now, it’s obvious this is his doing. Although he has an excuse and an alibi for every accusation, they both know. Dino smiles, laughs, and pretends nothing is wrong, but his eyes have gone a little darker, and his smile is a just a little manic.

With nothing and no one left, Dino confines them to the mansion. It’s a subtle, unofficial house arrest- every attempt to leave is met with resistance. The staff have been carefully instructed to keep them there. There’s an excuse ready for every reason they might have to leave. Groceries? The staff will take care of that. A movie? We have a theater! Friends? That part of the city isn’t safe. Driving yourself somewhere? The chauffeur has the keys, and he’s busy. There may not be bars on the windows, but they can’t seem to set a single toe past the gates of the mansion.

Dino lavishes them with attention. Demands they be by his side every hour of the day, and has them tended to hand and foot. There are more parties, more meetings, more events. Lunch in his office if he’s working, dinner at the top restaurants in the evenings.

Escape attempts seem to be foiled before they begin; supplies go missing, or Dino will suddenly have a surprise trip for the two of them- often foreign business meetings, during which he doesn’t want them left alone. Their every move is monitored. Phone calls, internet, everything. Dino knows what they’re up to. He plans accordingly, and indirectly sabotages them.

If Stockholm Syndrome doesn’t set in, Dino will tether them to his side another way.

He mulls over wedding them with a paid-off priest, but ultimately decides against it. If the friend he’s interested in is a guy, this is the way he’ll go. But if it’s a girl he’s set his sights on, as it often is, then Dino has a backup plan: There’s an easier way. A way that kills two birds with one stone- He secures an heir, and his love can never leave him.

Dino seduces them. They have a moment of weakness- or maybe there’s expensive alcohol involved. But Dino convinces them one way or another, and tries his damndest to knock them up. He’ll rinse and repeat if need be, but is confident he’s succeeded.

In a few months time, they’ll know for sure. They’ll panic, or try to hide it. Dino finds an excuse to ‘discover’ the truth. Are they searching for doctors? Have they stopped drinking? Are they getting sick in the mornings a little too often? Their health is already closely monitored, and there’s no privacy involved. Dino knows everything about them. He’ll back them into a corner until the truth comes out.

His friend can say goodbye to the outside world. Pregnant with his heir, he’s no longer subtle with their house arrest. He outright forbids them to leave without his express permission, and rebellion or escape attempts are met with lockdown.

Dino calls it ‘grounding’, because he’s a shit.

No internet, no access to phones, no setting foot outside the front doors. No garden walks or leisure trips. They’re shackled to Dino every minute. If they’re not by his side, someone will be accompanying them at all times. Whether it’s a meal one room over, or bonding time with the porcelain throne, nothing is sacred. Someone is keeping watch, breathing down their neck.

Dino tells them it’s only until they regain their senses. They’re just scared- and he understands! It will pass. But right now, he can’t trust them, and he’s doing this for their own safety. If they’d only stop fighting him, stop misbehaving, he wouldn’t have to do this.

Dino methodically wears them down. Their world consists of him, and only him. They’re conditioned and brainwashed by his carefully laid plans, and his disarming cheerfulness and affection. They never leave his side. He becomes their world, and their life. The same thing they’ve always been to him, he says.

From the moment Dino made up his mind, there was no chance. No escape. The only choice was Dino.

--------------------------------

Byakuran:

Byakuran is all about rewarding what he wants.

He’s possessive and he wants them by his side, but it’s also a game.

They pull away, and he lures them closer.

Byakuran starts out with being everywhere they normally go. He’s always hovering over their shoulder, following them throughout their day. Classes? Byakuran is there, and no one seems to question it. Groceries? Byakuran keeps an arm around their waist the entire time, despite their best efforts to shake him off. Like a snake seeking heat, it curls around them.

Byakuran doesn’t court them or try to woo them. They’ve known each other long enough that he doesn’t find it necessary. Instead he acts like the relationship has always been and will always be.

When they try to run, he gives chase. He always finds them, smiling like they’d never left.

“That was really clever, ___-chan. Try harder next time, though!”

But because Byakuran is selfish above all things, he grows bored with this game of chase. It’s no longer amusing when they push him away, and it’s irritating when they ignore him. Having his advances brushed off is no longer a fun challenge.

The thought of them wanting to leave him for someone else- anyone else- makes his blood boil. Everyone is a threat. They’ve been his since the beginning, can’t they see that? Why do they need to talk to other people? How could those people be more important than he is?

Years of bonding and friendship has kept them close at his side, and he’s not going to give them up now. They may be too stubborn to understand, may not be able to see it yet, but they belong to him.

It’s not good enough to trap them by his side, locked away safely in his home. He has to have them in every timeline. They have to know they are irrevocably his, and there was never any other choice. They were fated. Destined. Don’t they see? In every world they belong to him.

He keeps them confined, not bothering to slowly isolate them the way Dino would. Byakuran invites them under false pretenses, and their friends, family, and coworkers never hear from them again.

They can fight him. Hate him. Byakuran doesn’t care. Their resistance will crumble eventually, and he’ll be ready when it does. His dominant nature quells most of their outright resistance, and he carefully conditions their behavior with sweet words and spoiling rewards.

Byakuran will get what he want from them, and they may not be the same person when he’s finished.

--------------------------------

Enma:

Enma is far less heavy-handed than Dino and Byakuran. His approach is very strategic and extremely manipulative, but lets them believe they’re making their own choices.

He’s cunning in his approach, and takes it in stride when the friend expresses their disinterest. They continue on amicably, because Enma has planned for this possibility.

Slowly, their world becomes…. unsafe. It’s filled with danger and pain, friends and family turning their backs and walking away. Dates are cruel or disinterested, and any relationships end badly. Enma is there to support them through it all. After all, he’s the one who set it up this way.

Every friend turned vicious, every messy breakup, he makes himself the constant. They run to his arms for comfort, and he gives it without hesitation. He never pushes their boundaries or presses them for a relationship. He becomes the only reliable companion in their life.

Where they live is soon overrun with street violence and gangs. The landlord is angry and irritable, and always has a problem with them. Their neighbors turn nasty or move away. Enma plans out muggings and assaults- but they’re all payoffs, carefully controlled to make them afraid, but never hurt them.

When their world is finally in shambles, he takes them under his wing and helps them pick up the pieces. Unlike Dino, Enma won’t cut them away from their life altogether. Instead, he burns it to the ground and reconstructs it as something he can nurture and control.

Eventually, it’s their own choice to turn to him for a relationship. Enma plants seeds and plays all the right cards to make them fall for him, but never overtly. No, they have to believe it’s their own choice. The downfall has to be of their own volition, because Enma doesn’t want an S/O that’s always running away, that’s filled with fear or resentment or anger. He wants an equal.

Prompt: Hibari, Mukuro and Xanxus with their wives

Word Count: Hibari: 386 / Mukuro: 608 / Xanxus: 299 / Full: 1,293

Rating: Mature

Notes: These are pretty fluffy and short. Xanxus had to be wrestled into letting fluff be written, but here we are. Fluff at any word count is a victory with him. Even so, sorry for how short his ended up.

My apologies if formatting is lost after submitting any of these.

————–

Part 1/3: Hibari:

——

There were many privileges that came with being Hibari’s wife, you thought to yourself as a small smile broke your lips. Hibari was a fiercely private, guarded man. Very few people were gifted with seeing his soft heart. He kept it hidden well from the world. One just had to know where to look.

Little cracks in his facade showed tender, little fragments- each gentle stroke of his hedgehog’s quills, each time he scooped Hibird from his head and settled him elsewhere before a fight broke out. The way he touched the little bird’s head, the absent chin scritch to a stray cat when no one was looking…

Yes, you pondered. Hibari wore his heart on his sleeve. It was simply in a way the others couldn’t see, didn’t understand.

But even if he showed more of himself than he meant, no one else got to see the little moments like this. These were only for you, private snapshots of memories that would live only in your own mind, safe from prying eyes.

Your husband was stretched out on the couch, an arm thrown over his eyes. He snored softly, almost imperceptibly. Hibird was perched above his head on the armrest, cheeping softly as his feathers shuddered with each sleepy breath. The pair were sweeter than anyone would dare picture.

…And it was only for you.

Holding your breath so as not to disturb them, you unfolded a blanket and draped it over Hibari. His eyes cracked open, and you cursed internally.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, and smoothed the throw over his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

Hibari hummed, eyes only half-open, and stretched like a great cat. “Come here,” He murmured sleepily.

You sat at the edge of the cushion, and reached up to brush his bangs out of his face. He took the attention with a quiet purr, something he only did before he was truly awake. Your lips twitched, but you hid the smile.

“Come here,” He repeated, and lifted his arm in invitation.

Without hesitation, you fitted yourself beneath the crook of his elbow, legs slotting together as you laid atop of him.

“Lazy day?” You murmured.

“Shhh.” He tucked the edge of the blanket over you, eyes already closed.

You loved lazy days with Hibari.

Part 2/3: Mukuro:

——

Sensuality befell Mukuro like a second skin. In the privacy of your bedroom, he shed the caustic armor he wore, and your world narrowed until there was nothing left but him.

His illusions were his mastery, and he didn’t limit them to battle. Killing and fucking were like all carnal things, two instincts woven together in the bodies of ancient animals, glorified through a tangled chain of evolution that dated back to the beginning of all creation.

Mukuro would cast whatever his choice might be, and you were lost in a fantasy of pleasure that remained unrivaled by any reality or game. Everything was more intense- the sensations overwhelming and perfect as you brought each other up higher and higher until you were flying on a crest of ecstasy, only to fall back to earth in a tailspin plummet of screams.

And then you’d start again.

Mukuro was many things, but the sexuality he oozed in the privacy of your shared world had been unexpected, the first time. You hadn’t quite realized what was happening until he’d cast you into oblivion, chasing you down making you beg for more, for mercy, for anything and everything he’d give.

Some days he’d walk through the door, already shedding his coat, and those eyes would burn into you, twins of fire and chill, and you’d know exactly what he was planning. There was hardly time to turn off the stove or mark the page of your book before he was on top of you, stripping away your clothes and laying you bare.

Other days, he was slow. The usual urgency bled out of him like the world had sucked him dry, and he’d hold you close, burying his face in your shoulder. It left you to brush his shirt from his shoulders, to tangle a hand in his hair and let him kiss you like he was drowning. When he pressed inside of you, your hips sliding together like pieces of a puzzle, it was like touching a live wire.

The spark of connection was like seeing into his soul, everything he was and could ever be, racing through you like a current of being. Mukuro would thrust and bite and clutch you to him like he wanted to crawl inside of you. The sex was long and drawn out, slow like a summer day. Sometimes it was too much, and you were begging him to finish. He’d spill inside of you, head falling to your chest, or to rest of your shoulder, your forehead, the floor beside you. You’d lace your fingers together as he pulled out, stroking the back of his neck and across his shoulder blades, telling him how perfect and beautiful he was.

Making love was different with Mukuro. Different and more passionate, more intimate than it could ever be with anyone else. Sex with Mukuro was the time he truly opened himself and spilled his heart, needing no words to tell you who he was, or the burdens he carried. And for just a little bit, you could share the weight of those burdens, and feel the pain he carried on his shoulders every day. It was a burden you were happy to take, but in the end, he always slipped away, reclaimed the load he was meant to bear.

And that was okay, too. Because Mukuro was just that way, shouldering responsibility behind cold quips and an apathy to the people around him. But sometimes, his eyes would flash, and you would see a glimpse of what he only ever showed you in bed.

And that was how you knew he was okay, too.

Part 3/3: Xanxus:

——

The TV droned on, something playing on the Discovery Channel. You weren’t paying much attention, half-asleep and nestled into thick blanket on the couch. A late afternoon sunspot warmed your bones, lulling you closer and closer to an impromptu nap. Xanxus wouldn’t be back until evening, so it wouldn’t hurt to doze off for a little while…

You weren’t sure how long it had been, your body flirting with sleep as you pleasantly drifted in and out of awareness. The front door clicked, but you didn’t register it. It wasn’t until a warm body was sliding in behind your own that your eyes opened, awareness coming back in sluggish dregs.

“What’s this shit?” Your husband asked, voice low in your ear.

“Discovery Channel,” You told him sleepily. Beyond that, you weren’t sure.

“Hm,” He took the remote from the couch cushion beside his thigh, but the channel stayed.

“Good day?” You managed to ask. You felt his chest rumble beneath you in a short chuff of confirmation.

He was so warm, sky flames making him run naturally hot, and firm in all the best places. Despite the sexy thoughts that usually inspired, it also made him the perfect mattress. It wasn’t often he let you sleep on top of him like this, but coming home early was the sign of a good mood.

“You gonna fall asleep on me?” Xanxus snorted, but there was no irritation in his voice. He never turned you away from cozying up to him in private, but it was rare that he initiated the soft, intimate contact.

“Yeah,” Face tucked into his shoulder, your answer had come out muffled. He didn’t seem to care, only wrapped an arm over your waist and leaned back into the couch, content to lounge.

[ I hope we can still make you happy, even though the old admins aren’t writing with us anymore. I’m sure they would be honored than this blog and their writing was able to help you. Having such loyal readers is a gift and I sincerely hope that moving forward, we can uphold their standards. Nevertheless, thank you for writing in, and here’s to better times ahead!

                                                                         –Admin Giotto ]

[ Additional Notes: The grading system mentioned in Hibari’s portion is the American system where an A represents 90th percentile of a grade, a B the 80th, and so on. An F is anything below the 50th percentile, and the lowest you can receive in most schools, meaning that you’ve failed the class (or assignment).

The economics course only allowing the top 10% of students to receive an A and only half of the students to pass the class altogether is actually based on a real economics teacher I had in high school. He was a dick, and this was therapeutic to write. ]

Hibari:

“What a useless grading scheme,” Hibari turned over the syllabus in his long fingers, frowning at the percentages listed in bold. “It’s not even curved.”

“It’s an economics class,” You explain, and run a frustrated hand through your hair. “The professor is using the scarcity principle to game our grades. It’s stupid and completely rigged to justify favoritism. It’s been that way all semester.”

The heavy sigh that blew out of you pulled Hibari’s attention from the syllabus, and his dark eyes focused on the defeated slump of your shoulders.

“Half the class will actually fail? Only ten percent will achieve top marks?” He set the syllabus back with your things, considering the system’s merit.

“Yeah. My GPA shouldn’t take a blow just because someone else scored an A, too.”

“I see.” The answer seemed obvious to Hibari. If the goal of the class was to reflect the resource scarcity of real life, then the answer was to ensure your control of resources.

You gave an exhausted laugh, and let your head fall onto the pages of your textbook. “Yeah, me too.”

————–

“Hibari,” You called, wandering into the house. He looked up from his book, and you held your final grades transcript for the semester up in confusion. “I…. I got an A.”

“Don’t you usually?” The answer was casual, almost bored.

“Not in this class. Not my economics class.”

“You received an A because you have ties to the mafia.”

It took you a moment to process that. Hibari was never so…. so blasé about mafia business. Or using it to interfere in your life.

“I… I’m sorry, what? What about mafia ties?”

“The only solution to acquiring a scarce resource is to seize the control of that resource.” Hibari turned the page of his book, seeming to have lost interest.

“Hibari, what did you do? Did you rig my grades?!”

“Your professor wanted to simulate reality. Reality is that your ties to the mafia give you a means that other students don’t have. Those means secured your grade.” He raised an eyebrow, as if this were obvious.

“I worked so hard,” Your voice shook. “I studied for hours, and whatever grade I would’ve gotten, I would have deserved! Because it would have been me that earned it, not the mafia! Not my boyfriend! Not my professor being threatened!”

“Why are you upset about succeeding?” Hibari’s brow furrowed, his attention no longer on the book in his lap. “Is it so upsetting that you received an A you would have deserved, if it weren’t for his justifications for favoritism?” He threw your words back at you, like they justified what he had done.

“I wasn’t successful! You were!” You all but screamed, shaking the paper at him. “I worked hard, Hibari! I wanted to do this myself!”

“Success isn’t about hard work,” His tone was clipped. “It’s about strategy. It’s about playing the game, and using the means at your disposal. And you won this round, _____. That’s what success is.”

————————————————————————————–

Giotto:

“I’m never gonna finish this paper before the deadline!” Stress radiated from every tense line of your body as you frantically poured over research, hands flying over each keystroke like your fingers were on fire.

“Ah, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll have enough time!” Giotto laid a soothing hand between your shoulder blades, and kissed the top of your head.

Within an hour, your professor issued a class-wide extension of the deadline. You breathed a sigh of relief, and went to get a cup of coffee.

——–

“Oh, this class looks interesting. It even counts towards my prerequisites!” You tapped the title in your course book excitedly, showing the man poised over your shoulder. It was so rare to find enjoyable classes that counted towards your core curriculum. Skimming through the information listed, your good mood fell abruptly. Only worth three credits. Silently, you put an X through it and turned the page, continuing your search before the registration deadline hit.

His hand stopped yours, smoothing the page back down.

“You’re not going to take it?”

“No,” You sighed. “It’s only three credits. I’d have to take another class to get all my credits in under the prerequisites, and that’s too expensive and way too much time. I’ll have to find something else.”

You tried to keep the disappointed tone out of your voice, but Giotto’s thoughtful hum meant you had failed miserably. He took your pen and scribbled down the course number.

“Just in case,” He told you. “Keep looking. I’ll be back later.” The apologetic look usually meant he had mafia business. Brushing it off, you went back to your search.

A week later, students were issued an updated course catalog just in time for the semester registration. Of the notable changes made, there as just one that interested you- the credits for the course you had so badly wanted to take had changed.

Four credits. Just enough to fill the requirement.

You eyes narrowed suspiciously.

——–

“I think the university made a mistake.” You kept your tone casual, not ready to show your hand. Instead, you focused on the screen in front of you, wearing a face of light confusion.

“A mistake?” Giotto’s brow furrowed in concern, and he peered over your shoulder. “How so?”

“It says my tuition has been paid.” You narrowed your eyes, and looked up at him. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Giotto?”

His face pinched, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Of course not–  ”

“  –So if I ask your secretary, she’s not gonna show me a bank statement that has a withdrawal to my university in it?” You interrupted, crossing your arms. Giotto was a terrible liar, at least when it came to you.

He paused and took a breath, seeming to carefully consider his next words.

“…..I only want you to be able to focus on your studies without worrying about the money.”

“I have a job and I can pay my own tuition.”

“You shouldn’t need to work your way through school.” He frowned, mirroring your frustration.

“I can do this myself! I don’t need you to pay my way, especially without my permission.”

“You don’t have to do this yourself.” Although it hadn’t been cross to begin with, his tone gentled. “I know you can. But you don’t have to.”

Your arms fell apart, anger draining out of you at his words.

“There’s nothing you can’t do yourself. But I’ll always be here to support you. Always.”

————————————————————————————–

Hayato:

“Don’t you think you’re spending a little too much time with those shitty textbooks?”

You poke your head up from the stack of homework you’ve accumulated.

“Are you jealous of my assignments, Gokudera?” There’s a coy smile you’re fighting to keep off your of your lips, as you peer at him in amusement.

“I’m not fucking jealous, I just think you’re neglecting your duties to the Famiglia.” He fixes you with a glare, but you’ve learned to read Hayato’s moods like the back of your hand.

He’s not mad. He isn’t even worried about mafia business. He’s jealous.

“I just have to get through midterms and I’ll be back to normal, okay?” You give him a reassuring smile, turning the pen in your fingers. As cute as it is that he wants your attention, you really need to get this assignment done.

“No,” He snaps. “You’re spending too much fucking time studying and you’re always gone at classes when you’re needed here. This isn’t working, ____.”

The agreement had been that, even while taking classes, your first priority would the Famiglia. And in your eyes, you had upheld that bargain beautifully. Anger finally getting the best of you, you dropped the pen and stood, planting the hands on the pages in front of you.

“I never miss a training session! I never miss a mission! There’s not a day I haven’t sacrificed going to class if I was needed for something, and you know it! You want to talk about always being gone? Where are you, half the time anyways, huh?”

“I’m off taking extra missions to keep work off you back, idiot!” Hayato unfolds himself from the doorway, standing to his full height as his own anger flares to life. “I make sure you have time to go to class! I take other partners so you can write your shitty term papers! And it’s not gonna keep working like that!”

You blinked, staring at him open-mouthed. You’d had no idea he was working so hard to give you time for school. Hadn’t known there were missions he took behind your back so you could focus on assignments.

“I’m sorry,” The words spilled out of your mouth. “I’m sorry, Gokudera. I…. I didn’t realize.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, I bet you didn’t.”

“I’ll cut down to part time. I won’t make you cover for me, anymore.”

Hayato eyes you skeptically, but nods. The small gesture speaks volumes about his support. If he didn’t want you in university, he wouldn’t demanded you pull out altogether. If he thought your degree was a waste of time, he wouldn’t have cut down your mafia duties behind your back.

“And…..Gokudera?” He throws a glance over his shoulder, having turned to leave.

“Thanks.”

“Whatever. You’d better not fuckin’ fail those classes.”

Prompt: Squalo, Reborn and Mukuro with a sister

Word Count: Squalo: 432 / Reborn: 332 / Mukuro: 487 / Full: 1,251

Notes: Although there isn’t much interaction between the characters and their sisters, I think this will still be a satisfying read.

I wanted to toy with the concept of how the very beginning would play out- how do they discover their new siblings? How does their first meeting define the nature of the rest of the relationship as siblings?

I apologize if the formatting is lost after submitting any of these.

——————–

Part 1/3: Squalo:

——

The swordsman’s sister was discovered completely by accident. Intel on a target had revealed unexpected family ties the very man meant to kill him. Filled with disbelief, Squalo had demanded more information..

She was a young little thing, tutoring in fencing and living as the ward of a wealthy family allied to an enemy. The family was growing too influential too quickly, and their head of finance was on the short list. Days of observation had shown that despite the care and love with which she was being raised, she was keeping secrets.

The young teenager was frequenting chatrooms and message boards for tracing bloodlines. She was searching for her lineage. For her family. Her custodian’s ties to the mafia gave her resources that she was gladly abusing behind his back.

Truly surprising, was how close she was to uncovering Squalo.

The plan was carried out, but with one major hitch.

She wasn’t supposed to be there.

She had fencing lessons. They had checked. Then double-checked, and arranged the timing accordingly. By the time she would’ve gotten home, the blood would be gone and there would be someone new waiting to see to her needs.

“Daddy!” The anguished shriek startled the swordmaster, his blade twisting in the chest of his gurgling target. His arm withdrew with a sickening squelch.

“Voi! What the fuck are you doing here?! Don’t you have lessons?”

“Why are you doing this! Daddy, oh my god– !” She threw herself onto her adoptive father’s still form, frantically putting pressure on the fatal wound. “Daddy, daddy no. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me!”

Crimson blood stained her pristine school shirt, blooming across her chest and sleeves like grotesque flowers. The man’s eyes were glassy and still, and she sobbed and babbled nonsensically as she fought to stop the bleeding.

“Stop,” Squalo snapped, pulling her back by the waist. She screamed and clawed at his wrist, fighting to reach the body. “He’s dead. He’s dead.”

She stilled, hands slick with hot blood as they rested on his arms. Tears fell silently down her cheeks. “No. No, he can’t be. He can’t be dead. I don’t wanna be alone!”

A ribbon of guilt fluttered through him.

“You’re not gonna be alone, voi.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft. She twisted her head to look up at him, face wet and smeared with the blood of her dead guardian. He shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m the only family you’ve got, now.” Her eyes widened with clouded confusion, and her mouth fell open. A heavy sigh pulled itself from his chest.

“So you’re…. not gonna be alone.”

Part 2/3: Reborn:

——

A sister, huh?

Despite the mess of conflicted feelings in him, Reborn smirked.

They were only blood by half, but the connection was there. She was a civilian, only a year from graduating school. The school uniform she wore was that of a poorer area, and she was a little too thin for his liking, but she was a scrappy thing that had gotten herself into trouble more than once.

But she’d also gotten herself out, throwing punches and clawing faces with little grace, but a ferocity that had a soft sense of pride glowing in his chest.

At first, he’d been determined to let her lead a quiet life as a civilian. She could look out for herself well enough, but Reborn couldn’t seem to let her go. He found himself quietly watching as she walked home from school, smartly avoiding the wrong streets and keeping out of arm’s reach from passing cars. There was a clever air to her that gave her just enough common sense to skate on, but no street smarts to steer clear of danger.

Watching her was torture. It was killing him, seeing her throw a punch that would break her fingers, or getting a little too brave with the streets she took to get home. Seeing her hand splinted was the last straw. Reborn made his decision.

The minute she graduated, he would pull her out of her ridiculous civilian life and train her. As much as he wished it, Reborn couldn’t walk away from the only family he had. One day, she’d get mouthy with the wrong person and be in over her head. He’d make sure she was prepared.

But for now…..

For now he’d let her finish school, let her have the normal friends and normal life that Tsuna had fought against him so hard to keep. For now, he’d keep watching, keep making sure none of the wrong people took an… interest in her.

For now, she could be a kid.

Part 3/3: Mukuro:

——

She was found in a police raid. The news broke on television, a blonde reporter standing in front of the smoking shell of a building as she earnestly recited the horrors found inside. Words of illegal experiments and mafia conspiracies flashed over the screen in bold headlines.

“Three children were found inside, starved and shackled,” Her somber voice belied their gruesome conditions. “The first died late last night, and the remaining two are in critical condition.”

The shaky footage of a phone camera was played, three small forms being rushed past police barriers to a trio of waiting ambulances. The camera zoomed in on a small lump buckled to a stretcher, limp and tucked under a shock blanket. A closeup shot flashed over her face, blurred as an EMS worker wheeled her past with grim urgency.

Heterochromatic eyes stared straight into the camera, a flash of red and blue.

Mukuro was going to kill her. Personal motivation aside, it was the humane thing to do. The footage had shown horrible scar tissue stretching over her face in a terrible web of thick, banded skin. Even if she survived, the girl would never lead a normal life.

Barely a day later, he found himself slipping into her hospital room. White gauze wound over great portions of her body, disappearing under thin sheets. Sickly green light painted her face, eyes closed. Blue hair clung to her damp temples. He stood over her silently, noting their similarities with distaste. She couldn’t be allowed to exist.

Her eyes opened.

Mukuro stared down, unflinching, and she stared back. And then he noticed–

Something the shaky camera footage couldn’t show. The red and blue of her irises was muted. Cloudy and pale. A milky tint in her corneas faded them over.

She was blind.

Still, she stared up like she could see him just as well as he could her. It was unnerving. Deep, uneven grooves of scars wove across her skin, covering her eyes and stretching down the bridge of her nose. They were the same raw, pink that came from severe burns.

“Are you going to kill me?” Her voice was soft, but it didn’t waver. She wasn’t afraid of him. He quirked a brow, amused.

“Yes.”

“Then do it.”

“Will she be able to wake up?” Chrome traced the outline of the girl’s scars, her face peaceful in sleep. The disfigurement seemed to draw the Nagi to her, and she sat at the child’s bedside.

“Eventually,” Mukuro feigned disinterest, glancing at the pair. He wasn’t sure what he would do with her, but at least Chrome didn’t feel her presence as a threat. “When I have a plan ready.”

“Will you keep her?”

He paused, then turned to stand at the foot of the bed.

“Yes.”

The girl’s eyelids fluttered, and she made a soft sound but didn’t wake. Chrome withdrew her hand.

“She’s going to be powerful, someday.”

The inbox is now open! We’re capping at 16 requests this time, but in the future we will be accepting many more asks at a time.

Dino:

It takes Dino a little while to get used to the idea. It’s not that he doesn’t like kids- and kids seem to like him, too- but he’s not sure he’s ready for the kind of commitment a kid brings into a relationship.

He’d had flings with chicks who have kids, so it’s not like he has an issue with mothers. But the thing is, he never had to meet those kids. He wasn’t a part of their lives.

There’s already pressure on him to produce Cavallone heirs, and bringing this kid into the picture makes that pressure a little bit too real- he’s too young to be a father, right? Right??

But the more time he spends with his S/O, the more confident he becomes. They talk it out with him before meeting the kid. Reassure him that he’ll do just fine, tell him about their what their child is like. And when he finally does meet them, it goes….surprisingly well. Maybe they don’t hit it off right away, but he doesn’t screw up and the kid doesn’t hate him, and that’s…. a big relief.

After meeting the kid, Dino is way more open to the possibility of being in their life. Is it easy? Hello no. But he makes an effort to learn about the kid, figure out their interests and what makes them tick. He suggests things to do together, once in awhile.

It’s small things, like getting ice cream, or having dinner at their home. When the child spends time at the mansion, he finds things for them to do- doesn’t make them stick around with the adults. He lets them explore and get into things because who is he to stifle that kind of curiosity?

He does his best to hide mafia business from the child- kids don’t need to know that kind of stuff. It’s way too much to put on them. He wants them to be a kid.

Dino still keeps their regular dates- he likes this kid, but he still wants adult alone time with his S/O. Besides- it’s healthy for them to get a break from being a parent once in awhile, and have a night to themselves.

Slowly, he finds himself realizing that he loves this kid just as much as he loves his S/O- maybe they won’t be his heir (probably a good thing anyways, he tells himself), but their his nonetheless.

Dino tries his best not to be intrusive to his S/O’s parenting, but he feels like he has a responsibility for this kid’s best interests, too. He takes over some of that responsibility, especially because no one should have to carry that all alone. Single parenting is no cakewalk.

He doesn’t especially care if the other parent is still in the picture. He doesn’t really have a problem with the child still wanting to see that parent, but once things get serious enough, he makes it clear that he’s their dad now (it feels weird to say, but at the same time, he really feels like this kid is his own). They can visit the other parent, but only visit. He’s selfish and a bit controlling this way- because this is his family now, and he’s not going to share. There will be no split holidays, no alimony, no child support, no extended stays.

It may take Dino a little time to warm up, but he’s good with kids, and he’ll do just fine. It certainly won’t impact how he feels about his S/O in any way.

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Tsuna:

Tsuna doesn’t usually date partners with children. It brings too many complications into a relationship, and that’s really not a step he’s ever felt ready for.

He also has qualms about bringing a kid into the mafia world. He’s Don Vongola, and there’s no way around that. Life as they know it will be over. Their childhood will completely change, and they’ll always be a target.

Still, as he gets progressively more serious with his S/O, he can’t help but feel protective of this child he’s never met. There’s an unspoken claim that is getting more and more difficult to hold back.

Tsuna only caves with things are serious enough that this child is in danger by association. People have noticed his S/O, and their attached and extremely unprotected child.

He draws the line and moves them in with him, no complaints. They’re serious enough for this step anyways, and no isn’t an option. They belong to him now, and their child as well.

Despite being a widely-feared mafioso, gritty and dangerous, Tsuna likes kids. He has a soft spot for them. Shutting them out of the relationship wasn’t his intention- it was only that he never expected things to be serious enough to put them in jeopardy- or justify meeting them, for that matter.

He’s not a great father figure, at least not right away. He especially struggles if the kid takes time to warm up to him, or is old enough to already have opinions about him. He doesn’t hide that he’s a Don- there wouldn’t be any point. But he does keep mafia business behind closed doors when the child is present.

Slowly, he starts to win them over. It’s almost like courting someone, Tsuna thinks with amusement. The path is filled with gifts and the careful footwork of charming someone into looking past his faults. He doesn’t remember being quite this complicated as a child, but then again…. It’s not a time he likes to remember.

Tsuna ends up being a great parent-figure, whether the kid sees him as a dad or not. They ride on his shoulders, sit in his office while he works, and joins he and their parent for most day-to-day things.

He immediately arranges for most of their life to take place safely within the walls of his estate, which they may resent him for. Schools are switched and bodyguards are assigned, and Tsuna regretfully acknowledges that their childhood will never be the same.

He’ll teach them to live with it- that it isn’t so bad. They’ll want for nothing, and he’ll always take care of them and their parent.

With his S/O, he makes it clear he has authority as a parent. He acknowledges that they know their child best, and the decisions will be theirs first- but as Don, he has final say in everything.

Perhaps this will cause a rift, but it’s too late to turn back. They’ll work through it. This is mafia life, after all, and they knew what they were getting into.

Tsuna has no issues with grooming the child as his heir, despite any protests his S/O might have. Eventually, he’d like to give them a sibling- and makes it clear that any biological child of his would be the true heir from the start. But he loves them like his own, and as far as he’s concerned, they are his only viable heir.

The other parent will be taken out of the picture. There’s no middle ground, like Dino might tolerate. Tsuna won’t have that kind of interference, and it would tarnish his reputation. Whether or not ties are cut of their own accord, Tsuna will make sure they disappear for good. Their job might be transferred or they find themselves persuaded to live on another continent. In the end it may not be necessary to put out a hit, but Tsuna won’t hesitate if need be.

This is his family. Not theirs. They have no rights to this child, or his S/O.

Tsuna is more controlling and takes longer to find where he stands with their child- especially because he’s more authoritarian in the beginning, heavily influenced by his duties as Don. But he likes kids, and genuinely enjoys spending time with his S/O’s child.

The kid will learn to like him one way or another, but Tsuna likes having them around. He likes being their…. dad? Yeah. Yeah, he’s their dad. A real one- not a distant figurehead with claim to their parent. He wants to be in their life, to teach them things and groom them into mafia life, whether or not he fathers another child as an heir. Tsuna takes his place with pride.

Their art is pinned up in his office. Trophies sit proudly displayed in the mansion. Report cards and test scores are saved in his drawer to review and smile at. There are pictures on his desk.

This kid is his own. He truly feels that they’re his, and vows to do his best as a parent. He tucks them into bed whenever he has the time, and attends parent conference meetings with a vengeance. Their smile when he makes time for them is the most rewarding thing he’s ever seen.

If they call him dad, it’s their own choice. But they both know it’s what he is. Tsuna may be a big bad mafia boss, but that makes his heart glow with warmth.

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Enma:

Enma is wary about kids, especially in relationships. He doesn’t really know how to handle them.

If things go well enough, his S/O will have to gently talk him into meeting their child. It’s a factor that has made Enma hesitant about the relationship as a whole, but if he loves them enough, he’ll understand it’s a necessary step. But it’s also a step that will make or break the future or their relationship.

Enma doesn’t want them involved in mafia business. Whether or not they know of his ties could go either way, depending on the nature of the relationship, but they won’t be involved in that part of his life.

He’ll make sure the rest of the world knows they’re protected, but he’s not going to bring them into the violence and mess of mafia life.

The kid isn’t his heir. He makes it clear that he still needs a legitimate heir. It’s not because he has an issue with the child not being biologically his, but because they’ve grown up normally all this time. He refuses to take that away from them. For being so unsure about kids, Enma is the most defensive of their innocence out of the three bosses.

Enma takes more time to warm up to the child than they do to him. Although kind, he’s awkward and stiff. It takes a lot of coaching from his S/O to open up and relax.

He doesn’t spend as much time with the child as Tsuna or Dino, but he’s still involved, and still proud of them. The child won’t be as spoiled by him, either, but that’s not to say they want for anything.

His attention is sparse, and because he’s a more serious person, he spends more time working than he does with his S/O and their child.

There are still regular dates, and he loves them both deeply. It just takes time for Enma to find ways to bond with them as a family.

He nurtures the child’s interests and hobbies, and pushes them academically. He’s serious, but kind and affectionate. He doesn’t always feel like their father, but as time goes on his S/O helps him reach out and nurture understanding between them.

Homework and bedtime are his two favorite times. They sit in his office, or in the dining room to do their homework, and it’s one of the times Enma knows what to do. He’s good at helping them, even with things he wasn’t good at in school. They have tutors, but homework time belong’s to Enma most nights.

At bedtime, he reads to them. It’s his favorite way to spend time with them, because he’s a good story-teller when there’s a script to follow. He doesn’t do voices or sound effects, but he’s soothing and engaging, and it’s hard for him not to smile when he notices them beginning to drift off, struggling to keep their eyes open so that he’ll keep reading.

His S/O will lean against the door and watch, smiling gently because Enma gets to truly be himself in moments like these, and there’s something special between him and their child. No one can do bedtime quite like Enma.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get to do this as often as he’d like- work goes late, with piles of paperwork and stressful meetings, but he works hard to make time for a bedtime story.