Genre: Humor/Family

Summary: Love sickness needs a love cure.

"Ma~ma!" The 11 year old boy threw himself into the arms of a tall blonde teenager. "Cure me! I don't want to be sick anymore!" The child woes.

The older boy tilts his head and rests a wrist to the brunet's forehead and frowns in bewilderment as he feels no excessive heat beneath his sensitive skin. "You're not running a fever…-"

"But I am!" The boy huffs and brings his hand to his breast where he holds it to his aching heart. "It won't stop hurting! And then I get heat in my belly and my mind gets fuzzy! Why, ma~ma, why?" Confusion (which upset the child) colors his cheeks pale and the whites of his emerald eyes red.

The teenager gives it a moment of thought before venturing hesitantly – "Lambo… does this happen when you're near a person?"

"…" The boy gasps, shocked understanding masking his face. "That stingy Reborn! He's been poisoning me!"

"So this only happens when you're near Reborn?" The teenager's voice quivers, but does not lose its calming, almost lulling, affect.

"Uh huh! That must mean that he's doing this to me, ma~ma!" He presses a kiss to the older boy's cheek, a Cheshire grin on his lips. "Thank you!" He leaps from his perch on the teenager's knee and runs at a slow gallop – such short legs – away.

The teenager sighs once he is out of sight, exasperation slackening his expression. "Lambo…" He groans in despair.

And, at that moment, the small boy hunts down a hall and then turns down another. He takes a turn and then a third turn and, soon, had turned countless times, but found no other person in the halls, much less his prey.

A few random directions later and he realize he's lost. His horrible sense of direction had led him astray in a house he should know by heart, but, alas knew little of. In the middle of the hallway he had led himself into, he crouches down, holds his hands on the crown of his head, and cries in fear and anger.

"Stupid Reborn! If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be in this situation!"

"What situation is that?" Mocks a dry voice. "Lost in your own home chasing after someone who has been behind you this whole time?"

"GAAH!... It was the situation where I couldn't find you!" He rushes to his feet and glowers, hands fists at his sides and his cheeks puffed as tears trickled still. "Stupid Reborn!... You're doing it again!" His hands fell to his belly and his eyes widened with fear as his cheeks flushed. "You're making me feel weird again!"

The man cocked his head curiously. "… Weird?... How so?" He suddenly has the man's complete attention, even making the hitman lean down to be level with the boy.

He huffed and glared. "There are squiggly things in my belly and my face is really warm! My heart is going th-th-th-th-thum-thum-thump! It's going too fast!" He shoved a finger in the man's face. "And it's your entire fault! I told Ma~ma about it and he said that you had to be causing it 'cause it only happens when you're around!" His finger stabs Reborn's breast "Stop doing whatever you're doing to do that to me!" Each word is emphasized by a stab to the man's breast.

There was a wicked light in glittering obsidian eyes. "Is that so? I make your heart fast, your belly squirm and your face warm?" He rests his palm to one side of Lambo's face, as if to prove it to himself; he smirks as it turns out to be true. "Aren't you too young for such feelings?"

"… What kinda feelings?" He takes on a wise tone, despite his oblivious question.

"…" The man chuckles and stands to his feet, ruffling a hand through the boy's sable hair as he smiled down upon him. "One day," He assures in his mockingly amused voice. "someone will explain it to you." And he turns away, as if he plans to leave.

"NO! Explain it now!" He sniffles, on the verge of tears. "Am I dying? Do I have a bad disease that's gonna kill me? I don't feel good!" He glares. "You made me feel this way, make me feel better!"

The edge to the man's smile turns dangerous and there is a definite gleam in his ulterior motivated eyes. "One day, cow. One day, I will make you feel… better. And, in turn, you're going to make me feel…" He trails off and then smirks. He tweaks the boy's ear and walks away without another word.

"… WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" The child collapses to the ground, unable to bear the confusion. "Was that a threat?" He did not know and there was no answer for him.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Though a thousand miles apart, two lovers destined to meet are joined by a common thread.

So far away… and, yet, he felt so close. Like a breath against his heart, and yet he was no where in sight, no where within hearing, no where near.

With a sigh he curled into himself against the window, shut his eyes, and dreamed of being within his arms, of listening to his heart against his ear and feeling his strong arms and strong chest and listening to his deep, taunting voice, even if it was spoken only to mock him.

"Hey, Reborn – say 'cow' for me!'

'Why would I do what you want?' The sound of licking.

'Ooohh… nnnah! P-please?'

A chuckle. 'Co~ow. Is that enough for your cell phone recording?"

His face flushed, he takes his cell phone from his pocket and sighs into it. "Yare, yare, what a perverted thing to steal my cell and change my ringtone for."

"Why would I do such a thing as that?" There was a tease in that deep, taunting voice.

He smiles and cuddled into a pillow. "Because you're the jealous type."

"There's no reason to be jealous."

"Oh, but there is." He sighs and trails a finger across his collarbone, enjoying his lover's voice. "After all, I am a sexy young man. Everyone wants to jump me; even you."

"The difference between me and everyone else is that I have the right to jump you and the right to kill anyone else who tries."

"See what I'm saying? You're the jealous type, Reborn."

"Tsch. Fine, I'm leaving you now."

"Reborn, wait!"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"… Well?"

"Reborn… I love you, Reborn… and I miss you."

"… Huh." He can hear his lover smirk. "I miss you too, stupid cow. Come home soon or else I'll have to come after you." 'click'.

"… Heh heh… heh heh-hehe…" He cuddles into the bed and can not wipe the smile from his face.

Thousands of miles between them, both knew they would see the other again soon. "Good night… Reborn." And he knows, assured by his lover, that he has a home to return to when there is not over a thousand miles between him and there.

He can't wait.

Genre: Humor

Summary: Love is an evil word.

Turn it backwards, see what I mean?

"You stingy bastard!" 'boom!' 'BANG!' 'CRAAAAASSSHH!' "GAAH!"

Lambo collapses backwards over the arm of the chair, led their by the heavier weight of his archrival who continues to stare down at him with mock amusement. "You look pissed, cow."

"I wonder why. You got me arrested for something I didn't even do! Now Vongola has me on house arrest and you're the culprit in all of this!" Angry tears slip down his red cheeks and he all but sticks his tongue out at the infamous hitman. How much he wishes he could hit him, but, of course, even if the bastard wasn't holding him down, Reborn would never give him the time to hit him before he counters with some too-easy defense that turns into a destructive offense with the flick of his wrist.

His ranting is answered by a smirk and heated obsidian eyes. "It was your choice to shock the arresting police officer."

"It was your choice to shoot him in the leg! I wasn't even holding a gun, but I got blamed for it anyway!"

"It was his choice to grope you, and that was disrespectful."

"Are you claiming to be respectful of my body and mind?" His voice dared the older man to lie. His eye virtually spat green flames at him.

"I don't have to be, your body and mind are mine to do with as I wish – which was why he was shot because he wasn't respecting what is mine."

"… You planned for this, didn't you?" There had been a niggling of this in the back of his head the entire time, but it was only now coming to light with the wicked gleam in his lover's eyes and the extra-cruel twist to his smirking lips.

"Plan for what?" He almost purrs, though he has an extremely good poker face on, keeping the smirk and cruel eyes which could mean anything from 'I want to kill someone' to 'Oh my fucking god, BUNNIES' which is a really sad thought when one thinks of bunnies and Reborn at the same time… They would have a lovely conversation at best and a stew at worst.

"You planned for me to get on house arrest, didn't you?"

"Why would I want that, cow?"

"I don't know; you're demented and cruel and evil! No one knows how you think! You're like Verde, except you don't care to dissect me- … or do you?" Scary thought; so scary, he shudders and can feel a cold lump rest in his intestines.

"Organs are a turn-off for me."

"I'll keep that in mind for when I'm not in the mood." Silence… "So, did you plan it?" Reborn smirk returns full blast, complete with sharp incisors (of course he would have vampire-like features, that freak!) and a very dark, very evil aura. "… You bastard."

"For the next two weeks, this bastard is the only person you're going to see."

"… You… bastard." So that's why he had done it, huh? "Yare, yare, If you had wanted to spend for time with me, you could have taken me on a date."

"That would have been too simple."

"… Fuck you."

"Other way around, cow. I fuck you."

At the end of two weeks, Lambo had a seemingly permanent limp, permanent boneless frame and a permanent screaming habit whenever Reborn came into the same room as him. The hitman gave no comment to any of the concerned guardians.

Genre: Horror

Summary: 'Guess now who holds thee?'—'Death,' I said. But,

there,

The silver answer rang, . . . 'Not Death, but Love.'

He is covered in bruises, from the soles of his feet to his violently pounding head. Where there isn't a bruise, there is a bite mark, and where there are neither, there are cigarette burns; all for except his wrists, ankles and neck, which hold chains that are connected to each post of the bed he lies upon in a boneless fashion, too weak and too pained to do anything anymore but wait and hope to live (though that hope wanes as the days go by) another day.

The bedroom door slides soundlessly open, bathing the room momentarily in light that comes from the hallway light fixtures. They rest on the boy in an almost comforting fashion, illuminating him completely as if to remind him of the sun he had long been without. The beams accentuate his loose sable curls and his cream beige skin (painted red and blue and purple and yellow) and naked petite, fragile boyish figure.

The rays disappear as the door is shut and the room is against thrust into darkness. Tears gather at the corner of one emerald eye, but do not fall.

A hand caresses his cheek from out of the shadows, but he has long since numbed to fear and so does not flinch away. The thumb whispers over his bottom lip – such gentle touches – but he does not relax, though his body does not tense either. Fighting takes energy he does not have.

Lips replace the thumb and a tongue drifts into his mouth, tasting earnestly and teasing him, but unable to get a rise from his near-dead state of mind. He allows it to happen, but does not participate, like somebody staring in on something they do not wish to be a part of, so they walk away and pretend it isn't happening. That is exactly what he is doing, but he can't stand up and walk away, can't even lift a hand to his own defense anymore.

As hands trail over and probe at his body, the light in his eye fades and then flickers and then goes out. He'll be back once this is over with… for now, he's in a safe place. His body will tell him when it is over.

He is only partially aware of pain and of subtle fury and his body being raped continuously and then beaten hard. With his body on the verge of no return, his mind clicks back into reality and he does not bother to survey the damage. What would that do for him? There is no first aide kit and there is no one who cares; he'll ignore it for now and hope (like he hopes for so many things these days) for his wounds to be treated soon.

His eyes adjust and he sees above him his tormenter – his once-lover and now capturer, rapist, lazy murderer, torturer, and so many other evil, unspeakable things.

Obsidian eyes glitter under his attention and the cold smirk on pale lips softens, almost as if the man were beaming. "You shouldn't do that, cow." His attacker warns in a light tone. "It makes me pissed. I would be nice to you if you stopped zoning out~" He sounds almost amused, but the anger returns to his eyes and his hands clench around the boy's hips. "but since you don't, I'm going to keep hurting you until you learn." A gentle kiss is dropped on his lips and then his tormenter leaves the bed, dressing back into his dark, dark suit. "Dame-Tsuna is still searching for you. I'm trying to tell him to either be a little less trustworthy, or give it up, because he will never find you unless he thinks."

A hand pets his bony ribs. Fingers pinch one painfully sore nipple. Tears trickle down his face. "Please…" He chokes. Talking about Vongola and the family is always his tormenter's trump card; he can never stay silent or recede into his mind whenever they are brought up. "Let me… go home…"

"Will you do as I asked?" … He has to look away; his shoulders shuddering as the last of his tears are soaked into a silk pillow. "Is it that hard for you, cow?" His tormenter sits down on the bed and lifts him into his lap, pressing his head into his shoulder and rubbing his back as if he cares. "Just say it once and I'll let you go home."

He opens his mouth… shuts it. His lips tremble and his throat bobs as he swallows dryly. His hands shake and his eye screams pain. "I-I… I l-l-…" He sobs and squeezes his eyes tightly shut, gritting his teeth. "I love you…" He breaks.

"Say it with feeling."

"I love you!" He tries his hardest to make it sound true.

"Make me believe it."

"I love you, I love you, I love you…" Each kiss is accompanied by a kiss to his tormenter's face; his brow, his nose, his cheeks, his jaw. "I… love… you…" And then he kisses his lips, repeating the actions his tormenter had always done with him, slipping his tongue by smiling lips and toying with the eager tongue behind them. The urge to vomit is so strong, he gags and pulls away. He hasn't even eaten in days; doesn't that say something?

"Tell me again, but say my name."

"… I… love you… Reborn…" He shudders as the name passes his swollen lips, disgusted with himself.

"Look me in the eye and tell me."

He looks up, meets his eyes, and loses the will. "Just kill me already, you fucking bastard!" He pounds his fists weakly against his chest. "I'm not your goddamned toy!" His voice cracks and he wheezes as the desert dryness of his throat leads him to choke on his own screaming.

A hand grasps his jaw and makes him look back up. "Yes, you are. I keep you where I want you, I see you when I want to, and I do as I want with you when I want to." He licks the side of the boy's face, where a trail of tears had followed. "Tell me you love me."

"… … … I… love… you…"

"Now say my name."

"… Re-… born…"

"What a good cow."

Genre: Angst

Summary: the light of a whole life dies when love is gone.

'… Whao… It is really dark here; where am I? Am I in hell? I don't remember dying.'

"Lambo…?"

'Vongola? What did you do to end up here? I don't think you want to be here… I don't want to be here… Where is here?'

"Lambo!"

'What is it, Vongola?'

"Wake up, Lambo!"

"Juudaime!"

'Stupidera? You're here too? Of course you are… wherever Vongola is, you are too.'

"I found an empty bottle of pills! They aren't even prescribed to him; what do we do, Juudaime?"

'… Pills? Oh, I remember now… I did die – I killed myself… At least, I hope I killed myself.'

"What? Why would he do that-… I see. Gokudera-kun, call Ani-san fast, we need him to heal him."

'… Ryohei? Why are you bringing him here? Isn't it too late for me? Aren't I dead?'

"Lambo, please… I know he's gone, but we're not! We still need you here with us, and that is what he would have wanted! You can't leave us, you can't die!"

'… What he would have wanted. I don't care; he never cared for what I wanted. If he had cared for what I had wanted, he never would have died. I need him to be with me. Life isn't worth living unless he's with me – even if he acts like he hates me most of the time.'

"Reborn wouldn't have wanted this! Lambo, wake up! You're wrong, Lambo, you're wrong to do this to us!"

'Is someone shaking me? Yare, yare, I guess I failed… I can't fail, how many other chances do I get to kill myself? I don't want to live… Life isn't worth living.'

"It's okay to cry, Lambo… That's it, just – just cry it all out."

'… I'm… crying? Oh… Ow… Ah hah hah… my heart… really hurts.'

"I bet Reborn's wherever he is and he's thinking to himself 'that cow is really overdoing it this time.'"

'He would be thinking that, wouldn't he? Only, he wouldn't so kindly word it like you did.'

"That's it, Lambo, just hang in there. Ani-san will be here soon."

'… No… No, no, no, no, NO! Stingy Vongola! Stupid Vongola family! I don't WANT to live! Let me die! If you care about me, let me die!'

"It's okay, Lambo, you're going to be okay."

'… I… hate… you all…'

"Reborn would be happy to know that you were strong enough to live."

'Go die! No, better yet…let me die!'

"We love you."

'…'

Genre: General

Summary: [Love] is the type of disease that spares neither the intelligent nor the idiotic.

'… thwack…' '… thwack…' '… thwack…' "R- 'thwak' – born, 'thwak' stop – 'thwak' hitting – 'thwak' my – 'thwak' head off 'thwak' of the 'thwak' table!"

"Tsch." He releases the scrambled head of his prey and sits back on the couch. He crosses one ankle at the knee and rests his jaw on one clenched hand. "Stop crying, you stupid cow."

The teenager continues to sob, nursing his bruised forehead in both hands as he curls his knees to his chest. "My… head… Can't even… run." He wails, and then flinches, and then breaks down into small sniffles.

The hitman continues to glare with apathetic obsidian eyes down at the thunder guardian. "Why are you complaining to me?"

"You did it!"

"Do I look like I care?"

"…" The man-child sobs and rubs his head, tucking himself into the opposite end of the couch. The glass paned table is stained with blood and somewhat shattered by continuous blunt force. "Stingy Reborn."

The hitman doesn't seem to listen, his eyes shut in what most people would take as a napping pose – except this hitman sleeps with his eyes open. "You shouldn't have been so forward."

"I – I thought you loved me…"

"Who told you that?" He is on the receiving end of a heart-breaking glare. It is hardly something to be feared, but it still draws an uncomfortable amount of attention. "I never did."

"You n-never said anything, but I know that you l-love me." He manages to somehow smile around his pain at the stoic man.

"You shouldn't assume things; that's how people end up dead in the sewers."

The teenager takes his hands away from his forehead to look at his blood bathed hands. "… I think you gave me a concussion… There's no pain anymore…" He blinks owlishly at his palms. Dark red tears trail from his hairline and over his face to stick to his jaw.

"It's because you're so hard-headed."

The teenager pouts at him (now he's pretty sure that the kid has a concussion too because he is going through mood swings like a pregnant woman). "All I did was lay my head on your lap and you assaulted me."

"I didn't give you permission to do that."

"You didn't mind while I was petting your hair."

"But then you stopped."

"I love you, Reborn."

"I - …" That frown the hitman gets whenever he doesn't know something comes across his face; dull obsidian eyes, a turned down edge to his pale lips, and a slack jaw.

The teenager giggles (an amazingly girlish sound for someone with such a baritone voice). In the hitman's moment of (subtle) shock, he puts his head down in his lap and nuzzles his thigh. He sighs contentedly as his eyes slip shut. He curls an arm one leg and the other he lopes around the hitman's waist.

"… Cow, get the fuck off me."

"No."

"You have a suicidal wish."

"You love me."

"Liar."

"I am not." His voice slurs somewhat and his mind hazes.

"If you have a concussion, you're not supposed to fall asleep. Even you know that."

"Well, it's your fault to begin with; you're the one who kept slamming my face into the table."

The hitman sighs and rests a hand on the teenager's head, picking through sable curls in an almost bored manner. "Fine then; see if I care if you don't wake up."

The child smiles. "You care." And he falls asleep.

"… Damn it." The hitman is obviously pissed, though his face is a mask of calmness. "Just stick to being obliviously stupid, cow." He brushes away a few strands of blood. "You don't need to know."

Genre: General

Summary: Love is blind, and greed insatiable.

He is mine to do with as I wish… Mine because his naïve, slow thinking mind can not understand lust, but only love.

So I use him, and he does nothing against me. He is my toy for as long as I want to play with him. He is my captive as long as I want to hold him. He is mine as long as I don't tire of him.

This is a beauty of emerald eyes, sable hair, and cream beige skin. He amuses me and angers me and then he awes me. He bores me and then he irritates me and then he tries to kill me. He loves me.

I could let him go now – tell him the truth that I don't care for him in the least. That, if I had to choose between him and shit on the ground, I would get a baggy out and wave him goodbye. But what fun would that be? This boy loves me, is willing to give me his heart, his body, and his soul for just a moment of my time.

So I give him a moment of my time – I make it as torturous and cruel as possible, until he wails for me to stop and looks half-dead by the time I stop. The look he gives me afterward makes me hungry enough to do it again, so I do and he doesn't stop me. He begs for me to stop, but he doesn't do anything to try and make me.

Because he loves me. As long as he loves me, he doesn't care that I don't care. So I will be cruel to him more than before and make him wish he didn't love me. Until I succeed… there is nothing wrong with me using him.

Nothing at all.

Author's Note: … Yep! I looked up love quotes and then made a prompt for each I happened to like.