2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts and stop when it's over, no lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.
Title: chasing one in a million
Warnings: mood whiplash, beware unrevised
Notes: I am terrified of D18. I really am. I have no confidence to write them at all, so naturally I do just that. And aaaargh I can't even linger on my work because that would be cheating.
The Kind – Flyleaf
Dino asked Kyouya, once, four words with meaning far exceeding their length – do you love me – and to this day he received no answer. That is fine too – he would prefer no answer at all than a rejection or a lie.
He still takes care to say, "I love you, Kyouya," every time he could, always with a smile as bright as the gold of his hair.
Kyouya always replies, "You don't," always with a poisonous curl of the tip of his lips, always with a tone that allows no scope for fiction. Truth is the best kind of lie there is.
If My Heart was a House – Owl City
Kyouya remembers by heart the layout of the Cavallone mansion after one week of prowling around the mansion's marbled hallways enforcing his special brand of discipline – Dino's men had protested little, after an incident which ensured the inability of select family members to produce offspring. By two weeks he had seized control of the housekeeping staff, ordering every scrap of tile to be scrubbed shining.
The Cloud Guardian spends his weekends in the expansive library, religiously poring over the numerous historical texts and wracking havoc on the spirit of anyone who dares to approach. He lets the window open, then, letting in the wind. Dino would act as an observer, stationed in a corner of the library close enough to listen to the rustle of leaves mingle with that of old paper, as long fingers turn the page.
There are times Kyouya would close his eyes and lean back, a ghost of a smile on his lips, sunlight painting streaks across jet-black hair. Dino would always have to suppress a gasp, because like this he feels more at home than he has ever felt.
Especially for You – MYMP
Why, is the first impulse. It is a second after that Dino realizes the futility of the question. The answer he knows as clear as diamond, and wishes just as hard that he doesn't, for no answer is infinitely better, infinitely more merciful than a horrible answer one cannot deny.
Mercy, however, is not in Hibari Kyouya's repertoire of words.
Here he stands, facing the corpse of a family member and the death of himself - for even a traitor used to be, is a part of Cavallone - with no reason but the whim of a man who has no concern for anyone but himself.
You love me, don't you, the blood on the walls taunt, familiar steel marks morphing into an equally familiar smirk Dino cannot even wish he could hate, I am simply returning the favour.
There was a time he would give the world to earn even an ounce of Hibari Kyouya's attention - now, he has. To kill is to be able to love, so an old adage goes – perhaps there is a grain of truth in it all, but his mind is screaming too hard to remember.
Airplanes – BoB
They are on Namimori's rooftop, and in the expanse of murky dark the moon is the only thing they can see. "Too bad," Dino sighs, lying over dusty concrete, jacket spreading around him like a warm blanket. Kyouya is standing to his right, mouth downturned, the tapping of his feet echoing in Dino's ears. "I was going to show you Orion, but there are no stars tonight."
Kyouya doesn't answer as he leans against a wall. Dino points towards a piece of sky. "Orion should be about there," he says, "Myth has it that he was a great hunter, though a little proud. Long story short, he offended a goddess so she sent a beast – Scorpio, I think – in return; it's still chasing him until now."
Just then the sound of jet engines echoes across the quiet. Dino hums and raises his fingers towards the blinking red and green. "And that's Scorpio."
Kyouya blinks. "That's a plane."
"We can pretend it's Scorpio."
The Tower – Vienna Teng
Hibari finds him, the king of a fractured empire, in the heart the mansion where the painting of Cavallone Primo resides – now in shreds and defiled and torn. He is on his knees, lips moving in a frantic prayer to an entity who he knows never pays any heed.
Hibari yanks Dino up by the collar, hissing, a world of fury and disgust in his eyes. "Is this how you intend to rot?" he growls.
Dino's laughter echoes across the burning room.
To walk among rubble requires certain talent, analogous to that of the king who refuses to leave the kingdom he knows is crumbling, the captain of a sinking ship. It is at once a rejection of frailty and acceptance of failure – there is nothing quite as invulnerable as a man who loses; in a sense, the man who lost everything always wins.
I Feel the Earth Move – Olivia Ong
"I think you passed a red light," Dino yelled, turning to get a view of behind, wind hitting his face at two-hundred miles-per-hour. He thought he heard sirens but the roaring in his ears obscured every other imaginable noise.
"Are you a dog," Kyouya growled, "Shut the window and put on your seatbelt."
"I'm pretty sure you passed one," Dino shouted over the wind, "You almost ran over a poor old lady!"
"Sit. Down," Kyouya narrowed his eyes, nails digging into the leather of the steering wheel.
He did finally settle down, later, after an unfortunate insect splattered itself to his face. He clicks his seatbelt in place. "I'm pretty sure we're breaking every traffic law known to existence," he grinned, breathless.
Kyouya smirked. "I don't see you complaining."
Footprints in the Sand – Leona Lewis
There is nothing quite like listening to the sound of the waves and the receding calls of seagulls, eyes shut and sea foam caressing the toes. Dino manages to rouse Kyouya from his beauty sleep for a fifty-mile drive to a beach in Italy – it is worth it; he does not bemoan the bruise he obtained on his chin.
They arrive when the sky is orange and the place holds certain serenity, sand glowing almost purple in the dim of the setting sun. Kyouya frowns, but the tension in his neck loosens as he removes his shoes to join Dino on the sand – Dino beams at him, eyes bright and blinding. He extends a hand to help Kyouya down from the deck; this causes him to scowl, but Dino only beams even brighter.
"Race you to the shore," he winks. Kyouya growls beside him.
The sand is heavy and wet underneath his feet. Dino laughs and outstretches his arms as he breathes in fishy air.
Circle – Flyleaf
Hibari Kyouya never appeared in his tutor's funeral – exactly forty-four hours after the ceremony ended he traces the name carved into the marble with his fingertips, before revealing from inside his sleeves a pair of steel tonfas – it is with an animalistic curl of his lips that he starts tearing into stone, a wild glint in his eyes and perfectly thorough, until the only thing that remains is debris and rubble.
The stone is an insult, an inadequate replacement of who Cavallone stood for. Hibari lifts his chin as dust settles around him, and walks away, taking only the memory of the cold carvings of a gravestone with him.
Now the whole of Dino Cavallone is dead and buried – there will be no trace of him, soul, heart and all.
Mine – Taylor Swift (I know it's a happy song but orz orz)
Regret manifests in diverse hues: scarlet, for that which serves fury and beckons hell; blue, for teardrops and laments; yellow, for the sickness that twines and festers around the remnants of a heart – remnants, for a heart with regret can never be truly whole.
Dino stands, in his abode with his head bowed, suit and tie an impeccable white. Vongola Tenth is across him, his posture similar and expression hesitant, bearing the news of death and destruction –this is nothing new, if not for the cause: Hibari Kyouya, trailing blood wherever he chooses to tread, a wayward skylark gone too far.
"This makes fifty," Vongola Tenth whispers, looking at his hands with wide eyes as if the blood spilled were his.
"He has to be stopped," Dino states, eyes carefully unrevealing. "I will stop him."
"Please, Dino-san –" Vongola Tenth's voice contains a quiver he is too old to reveal.
Dino shakes his head – once only, and the smile on his face conveys everything else. "No, Tsuna. I was the one who created him. This is my burden, and my burden alone."
Dino regrets without colour – or with the entire spectrum, for they are one and the same.
Club Can't Handle Me – Flo Rida :D :D
"This makes fifty," Tsuna says – moans, rather – as he buries his head in his palms in what Dino believes to be eternal shame. "It may be asking too much of you, Dino-san," he begins, but Dino raises a hand to stop him.
"What can I say," Dino shrugs, the act of nonchalance a contrast to the grimace on his pallid face, "Kyouya hates monogamy – it has to do with alpha males or something – I don't understand it either."
"Can we – can you stop him?" Tsuna whimpers.
Dino shakes his head. "I'm sorry, brother." His voice takes on a sympathetic tone – Tsuna groans even louder.
My first foray into the khr fandom orz. Comments and concrit will be appreciated.