Cards Against Assassins
Title: Cards Against Assassins
Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo
Character(s): Pesci, Buccellati, Risotto, Prosciutto, Illuso, Ghiaccio, Formaggio, Melone
Pairing(s): Buccellati/Pesci
Genre: Fluff/Humor
Word Count: 515
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Summary: The assassins are far too competitive at this game.
Notes: Wild card CCB square.
Cards Against Humanity has been a weekly tradition for the assassins practically since it came out. They all have terrible senses of humor, so at least once a week (assuming they’re not all too busy), they sit down and attempt to relax by playing a card game.
‘Attempt to’ being the key word, because they’re all extremely competitive about it. Since they’ve started keeping track of wins, the leader is Prosciutto, but Risotto is only one win behind him.
Tonight is the first night they’ve invited over someone else to play with them: namely, Buccellati.
“So you’ve never played this before?” Pesci asks, taking his seat at the table.
“Never.” Buccellati sits next to him, on the other side of him from Prosciutto. “Thank you for inviting me, I’ve heard interesting things about it.”
“‘Interesting’ is one word for it.” Illuso finishes shuffling the deck and starts dealing out white cards. “Expect to be offended.”
After picking up his hand, Buccellati raises an eyebrow. “I see what you mean.”
Play runs as smoothly as usual, which means that Ghiaccio complains whenever he thinks his card was better than the one chosen (which is a lot of the time), Formaggio takes forever to decide on what to play, and Melone has once again mysteriously been dealt all sexual cards. Buccellati picks up on the rules of the game quickly, and even chuckles at some of the more amusing combinations.
It’s his second or third time judging. The black card reads, ‘During sex, I like to think about ____.’ Buccellati drums his fingers as he waits for the others to pick their cards.
When they’re all flipped over, he turns bright red. On one of the white cards is a handwritten ‘Pesci’.
“Oh, did we forget to tell him about the blank cards?” asks Melone, while Pesci buries his face in his hands.
Formaggio rolls his eyes. “We wrote our names on the blank cards that came with the deck because we couldn’t think of anything else. It’s usually about this embarrassing for somebody.”
Buccellati nods, still red-faced. He takes a brief look over the rest of the selection before picking ‘Pesci’ out of the pile. “This one wins.”
Pesci peeks between his hands to check which it is, then squeaks and tries to hide again. Prosciutto gently rubs his shoulder.
Everyone else looks to Melone, who shakes his head. “If I’d had it I would have played it, but mine was the one about the nun. It isn’t my fault this time.”
“Then who…?”
“I did,” says Risotto, placing down another score counter.
Buccellati stares at him. Pesci whines, “Leader why,” slightly muffled by his hands.
“It won a point. That’s the only important thing.” A fire burns in Risotto’s eyes. “I’ll catch up to you today, Prosciutto.”
“Try, if you can,” says Prosciutto.
Ghiaccio snorts and reaches for the next black card. “It’s the haiku one again. Five seven five, if you can’t remember, Formaggio.”
“Poetry isn’t my strong suit, so what?” snaps Formaggio.
Perhaps because of karma, Pesci wins that game.
Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo
Character(s): Pesci, Buccellati, Risotto, Prosciutto, Illuso, Ghiaccio, Formaggio, Melone
Pairing(s): Buccellati/Pesci
Genre: Fluff/Humor
Word Count: 515
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Summary: The assassins are far too competitive at this game.
Notes: Wild card CCB square.
Cards Against Humanity has been a weekly tradition for the assassins practically since it came out. They all have terrible senses of humor, so at least once a week (assuming they’re not all too busy), they sit down and attempt to relax by playing a card game.
‘Attempt to’ being the key word, because they’re all extremely competitive about it. Since they’ve started keeping track of wins, the leader is Prosciutto, but Risotto is only one win behind him.
Tonight is the first night they’ve invited over someone else to play with them: namely, Buccellati.
“So you’ve never played this before?” Pesci asks, taking his seat at the table.
“Never.” Buccellati sits next to him, on the other side of him from Prosciutto. “Thank you for inviting me, I’ve heard interesting things about it.”
“‘Interesting’ is one word for it.” Illuso finishes shuffling the deck and starts dealing out white cards. “Expect to be offended.”
After picking up his hand, Buccellati raises an eyebrow. “I see what you mean.”
Play runs as smoothly as usual, which means that Ghiaccio complains whenever he thinks his card was better than the one chosen (which is a lot of the time), Formaggio takes forever to decide on what to play, and Melone has once again mysteriously been dealt all sexual cards. Buccellati picks up on the rules of the game quickly, and even chuckles at some of the more amusing combinations.
It’s his second or third time judging. The black card reads, ‘During sex, I like to think about ____.’ Buccellati drums his fingers as he waits for the others to pick their cards.
When they’re all flipped over, he turns bright red. On one of the white cards is a handwritten ‘Pesci’.
“Oh, did we forget to tell him about the blank cards?” asks Melone, while Pesci buries his face in his hands.
Formaggio rolls his eyes. “We wrote our names on the blank cards that came with the deck because we couldn’t think of anything else. It’s usually about this embarrassing for somebody.”
Buccellati nods, still red-faced. He takes a brief look over the rest of the selection before picking ‘Pesci’ out of the pile. “This one wins.”
Pesci peeks between his hands to check which it is, then squeaks and tries to hide again. Prosciutto gently rubs his shoulder.
Everyone else looks to Melone, who shakes his head. “If I’d had it I would have played it, but mine was the one about the nun. It isn’t my fault this time.”
“Then who…?”
“I did,” says Risotto, placing down another score counter.
Buccellati stares at him. Pesci whines, “Leader why,” slightly muffled by his hands.
“It won a point. That’s the only important thing.” A fire burns in Risotto’s eyes. “I’ll catch up to you today, Prosciutto.”
“Try, if you can,” says Prosciutto.
Ghiaccio snorts and reaches for the next black card. “It’s the haiku one again. Five seven five, if you can’t remember, Formaggio.”
“Poetry isn’t my strong suit, so what?” snaps Formaggio.
Perhaps because of karma, Pesci wins that game.