And that is all?

GACKT@jmusic50

Sat, 04 Jul 2009 09:06:07 GMT

Subject: GACKT
Progress: 18/50
Teasers:

Happy	Sad	Tears	Hope	Sexy

Funny	Faith	Death	Magical	Love

Thoughts	Silence	Freedom	Kiss	Cool

Hatred	Alone	Imagine	Passion	Truth

21	22	23	24	25

26	27	28	29	30

31	32	33	34	35

36	37	38	39	40

41	42	43	44	45

46	47	48	49	50

Rant:
1- Who doesn't like comments? If you liked them just give a friendly buzz and I'll know to hurry up on my updates.
2- If you're using them, please credit.
3- Have fun with them while you're at it^^.
4- Am I the only one who thinks Gackt looks like a vampire all the freaking time? For years I've been getting Dracula vibes from him:D

That's all! ^_^

Uruha@jmusic50

Tue, 30 Jun 2009 20:26:53 GMT

Subject: Uruha – the GazettE
Progress: 18/50
Teasers:

Happy	Sad	Tears	Hope	Sexy

Funny	Faith	Death	Magical	Love

Thoughts	Silence	Freedom	Kiss	Cool

Hatred	Alone	Imagine	Passion	Truth

21	22	23	24	25

26	27	28	29	30

31	32	33	34	35

36	37	38	39	40

41	42	43	44	45

46	47	48	49	50

Comments are always appreciated.
If you're using them, please credit.
Don't redistribute.
That's all! ^_^

Enjoy!

RESOURCES

Tue, 30 Jun 2009 18:47:05 GMT

Finally, the long awaited resource page. I tried my best to include everything on this; if somehow I didn't credit it was simply because of a rather interesting case of a natural senile girl. Otherwise said: if I didn't credit you, just leave a comment.
I'll also keep this thing updated periodically.

Textures or Brushes:
layering icons_by_mea misarte shalowater lidia_elf omochaya xgraphicjunkie satin_resonance shark_bitten redmoon_icons icon_collide hgx j_k_icons discolore aube_des_arts masquerade_arts dustypaper dreaming_art

Bases:
blackrose9027 blaqheartedstar

Screencaps:
tenshin26100

Icons - the GazettE + GACKT

Fri, 19 Jun 2009 10:33:06 GMT

Quick Rant rather less than more about the icons:
1- I officially started making icons with the passion of only the obsessed, possibly mentally unstable;
2- Is it just my imagination or did Aoi steal Gackt’s jewelry for the latest Neo Genesis volume (look at nr9 from the gazette section; I’m sure I’ve seen Gackt somewhere with the exact same thing) … great, now I’m going into fangirl gutter land^^. Again.
3- As I’ve already brought up Gackt, I must say that I officially refuse to call him GACKT- for some reason, this type set makes me thing of some fruit cake, all made up of pretty colors.
4- Specking of my eternally high brain, am I the only one thinking that Uruha looks like he’s channeling Mana in the same NG scans mentioned earlier? Particularly the blue ones… *_*. Hmm…XD
5- Resource page will be added later this evening, once I'm done collecting info.

Icons:
21 - Gackt
57 - the GazettE

Teasers:

Gackt:


1	2	3

4	5	6

7	8	9

10	11	12

13	14	15

16	17	18

19	20	21

the GazettE


1	2	3

4	5	6

7	8	9

10	11	12

13	14	15

16	17	18

19	20	21

22	23	24

25	26	27

28	29	30

31	32	33

34	35	36

37	38	39

40	41	42

43	44	45

46	47	48

49	50	51

52	53	54

55	56	57

Comments are always appreciated.
If you're using them, please credit.
Don't redistribute.
That's all! ^_^

Enjoy!

Icons- the GazettE

Sun, 07 Jun 2009 16:56:03 GMT

77 Gazette icons

Teasers:


1	2	3

4	5	6

7	8	9

10	11	12

13	14	15

16	17	18

19	20	21

22	23	24

25	26	27

28	29	30

31	32	33

34	35	36

37	38	39

40	41	42

43	44	45

46	47	48

49	50	51

52	53	54

55	56	57

58	59	60

61	62	63

64	65	66

67	68	69

70	71	72

73	74	75

76	77

Comments are always appreciated.
If you're using them, please credit.
Don't redistribute.
That's all! ^_^

Enjoy!

I must be truly and utterly insane...

Sat, 13 Dec 2008 19:32:22 GMT

... because who in their right mind does this?

fanfic100 claim for The Varia: (because I'm truly smitten)

001.	Beginnings.	002.	Middles.	003.	Ends.	004.	Insides.	005.	Outsides.
006.	Hours.	007.	Days.	008.	Weeks.	009.	Months.	010.	Years.
011.	Red.	012.	Orange.	013.	Yellow.	014.	Green.	015.	Blue.
016.	Purple.	017.	Brown.	018.	Black.	019.	White.	020.	Colourless.
021.	Friends.	022.	Enemies.	023.	Lovers.	024.	Family.	025.	Strangers.
026.	Teammates.	027.	Parents.	028.	Children.	029.	Birth.	030.	Death.
031.	Sunrise.	032.	Sunset.	033.	Too Much.	034.	Not Enough.	035.	Sixth Sense.
036.	Smell.	037.	Sound.	038.	Touch.	039.	Taste.	040.	Sight.
041.	Shapes.	042.	Triangle.	043.	Square.	044.	Circle.	045.	Moon.
046.	Star.	047.	Heart.	048.	Diamond.	049.	Club.	050.	Spade.
051.	Water.	052.	Fire.	053.	Earth.	054.	Air.	055.	Spirit.
056.	Breakfast.	057.	Lunch.	058.	Dinner.	059.	Food.	060.	Drink.
061.	Winter.	062.	Spring.	063.	Summer.	064.	Fall.	065.	Passing.
066.	Rain.	067.	Snow.	068.	Lightening.	069.	Thunder.	070.	Storm.
071.	Broken.	072.	Fixed.	073.	Light.	074.	Dark.	075.	Shade.
076.	Who?	077.	What?	078.	Where?	079.	When?	080.	Why?
081.	How?	082.	If.	083.	And.	084.	He.	085.	She.
086.	Choices.	087.	Life.	088.	School.	089.	Work.	090.	Home.
091.	Birthday.	092.	Christmas.	093.	Thanksgiving.	094.	Independence.	095.	New Year.
096.	Writer‘s Choice.	097.	Writer‘s Choice.	098.	Writer‘s Choice.	099.	Writer‘s Choice.	100.	Writer‘s Choice.

drabbles100 General Series claim (for Reborn of course and because I love them less^_^)

001.	Beginnings	002.	Middles	003.	Ends	004.	First	005.	Last
006.	Hours	007.	Days	008.	Weeks	009.	Months	010.	Years
011.	Red	012.	Grey	013.	White	014.	Black	015.	Blue
016.	Purple	017.	Brown	018.	Green	019.	Pink	020.	Colourless
021.	Friends	022.	Enemies	023.	Lovers	024.	Family	025.	Strangers
026.	Teammates	027.	Parents	028.	Children	029.	Birth	030.	Death
031.	Sunrise	032.	Sunset	033.	Too Much	034.	Not Enough	035.	Sixth Sense
036.	Smell	037.	Sound	038.	Touch	039.	Taste	040.	Sight
041.	Shapes	042.	Triangle	043.	Square	044.	Circle	045.	Moon
046.	King	047.	Heart	048.	Diamond	049.	Queen	050.	Joker
051.	Water	052.	Fire	053.	Earth	054.	Air	055.	Spirit
056.	Breakfast	057.	Lunch	058.	Dinner	059.	Food	060.	Drink
061.	Winter	062.	Spring	063.	Summer	064.	Fall	065.	Passing
066.	Rain	067.	Snow	068.	Lightning	069.	Thunder	070.	Storm
071.	Broken	072.	Fixed	073.	Light	074.	Dark	075.	Shattered
076.	Rebirth	077.	Paralysis	078.	Disease	079.	Agony	080.	Healing
081.	Blind	082.	Deaf	083.	Lost	084.	Found	085.	Missing
086.	Choices	087.	Life	088.	He	089.	She	090.	It
091.	Birthday	092.	Christmas	093.	Thanksgiving	094.	Solstice	095.	New Year
096.	Writer‘s Choice	097.	Writer‘s Choice	098.	Writer‘s Choice	099.	Writer‘s Choice	100.	Writer‘s Choice

15pairings Reborn claim:
THEME SET 5
1. we are going to change
2. four seasons
3. "Go ahead."
4. illusion
5. "There are some feelings that will never change."
6. spin the bottle
7. cards
8. library
9. dark chocolate
10. gate
11. "I will."
12. paradise
13. restaurant
14. truth or dare
15. cure

I'm bloody bonkers I tell you!

[fic] World of Sorrow- Xanxus/Squalo- oneshot

Sun, 23 Nov 2008 09:06:52 GMT

Name: World of Sorrow

Pairing: Xanxus/ Squalo

Genre: angst, romance,

Warnings: yaoi, swearing and the Varia^_^

Summary: At the end of a life lived on the wrong path I know this: all came because of a passion which loved to conquer and a love of honor that was unconquered. ( Squalo POV)

WORLD OF SORROW

1. I once heard you say that when the gods want to punish us, they make our wishes come true. Your life’s kind of like that, the wish of on orphan granted only to become the chain that poisoned him.

You know, looking at long forgotten times I ask myself: if I had the chance to take everything back, would I take it? I don’t know. There are things I wish I could change, some I could have avoided, but others that are so intertwined with my life that parting with them would be like parting with my very soul.

I’m asking- perhaps it’s more like inviting- you to come into my world and see the past through my eyes. I want you to understand why you’ve failed and the reason we didn’t.

Why should you bother? Because ever since that day I saw you I’ve been infected with this rage, just like a drug that destroyed my life. Your anger Xanxus is stronger than me and it’s stronger than you. The truth is that for us, the moment of beginning was the beginning of the end. Alone, we might have succeeded, but together we were to much the same: we saw only our own sins while looking into the others eyes.

The biggest mistake of my life bears your face- and I can’t regret it. Does that make me insane? Probably, but then again it’s a pity that in life we only get our lessons when they are of no use to us.

So listen.

2. You began to walk the crimson-colored path of destruction on the day you found out that you had been marked for a fate that had never been yours. On the day you discovered the web of failure and lies that was your life, something broke in you, something that never came back.

Because of this you decided to take what was given and to make your own path; it your cards were written in letters of pain, you would give pain back. If deceit made your life hell, you would make the world hell for everyone else. Was it truly as simple as that? No.

They blamed you for their mistakes, never understanding or listening to the reason behind the monster. Fools...

You know it as well as me: the people who live only once in their lives are really the shallow ones, the true monsters. What they call their loyalty, self-sacrifice, I call either the lethargy of custom or lack of imagination. Faithfulness to life is what consistency is to the intellect - a confession of failure.

Failure is intolerable and at the end of a life lived in the wrong path, I’ll tell you this: all came because of a passion which loved to conquer and a love of honor that was unconquered.

3. Having dreams that no one else could have, you cast aside the things you didn’t need. Love, honor and fate began to have little to no meaning to you, or so it seemed. I wonder how many times you walked among your pears knowing you were better than them, but fated to be just one of them, a mere face in the never ending crowd.

The true tragedy in this theater of masks is that none of us were supposed to end as figures on the outskirts of society. Things could have gone differently in so many ways; we were brilliant in our own crooked ways and we could have been great if life hadn’t turned it’s blade on us.

What an irony it is—we got everything we wished for in the begging and it killed our humanity. It’s almost like we were destined to go wrong, but maybe that’s only me being bitter.

I wonder if you’d laugh at me for telling you that every day as night comes over the world, I look up into the sky in which I can’t see stars anymore and I asked myself: "aren't you lost?"

4. As Gods over the fools who were afraid we shaped the world around us just like we always wanted. We told ourselves that after leaving our true purpose for this, we couldn’t back down. We were killers, this we knew, but only then we realized the truth behind the word. There will be no mercy for us. No pity on the monsters- funny how that broke us.

Shit! They never understood us and they can’t understand locked in their little world where sin is so pure it is but white. What the masses will never understand is the degradation one feels when he realizes he’s gone too far for salvation. The last hope, one we didn’t even know we had, is lost. All that is left is terror.

As it always happens you felt it long before us, the strange fear that only assassins feel. The stronger we got, the happier we believed to be, but the deeper we sank. Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

I don’t know when we began to have not only no mercy for another, but no mercy for ourselves.

5. You, Xanxus were our leader, better than anyone. What we didn’t see back then was the length the curse of power tormented your life. You began to believe there was only life and those to week to take it; the very creed of assassins.

You began to lose all sense and for a while I just had to know, while I still could: would I have to run or hide away from you? Will your greed kill me? There was no peace of mind as his true colors showed a dangerous sign.

Still, even after I first saw your descent into madness I still followed you. Why you might ask, as the innocent fool you truly are. Well, because by then I too became the slave to greed, son of power. You were the strongest so we, the Varia, made you the king we would always walk by. Blind will lead the blind as they say…

When you judge me Xanxus, remember that all my mistakes were made for you.

6. I don’t remember when I began to feel so weak in front of you. You wanted to rule. I was supposed to help you, but I didn’t. Understand that I never wanted the world, I wanted you.

I will confess that it did faze me for quite the number of years that my only love interest was a sociopath mass murderer with a god complex, but the feeling was soon lost to the fear of becoming a fool in your eyes. For the longest time I feared who I was becoming, I felt that I have lost the struggle within. I knew that when the day will come and I would no longer restrain it, my strength will begin fading. Emotions are week, you told me this, but still I ended up giving in.

In a way it's like you’re a ghost that's always haunting me. Part of me wished it to come true again and again like a never ending fairytale. But… but the other part, the one that never accepted a life of crime in your name is still screaming: Leave me alone.

7. Xanxus, I want to ask you: how many times did you regret the life you took? It was grand and still is for me, but do you, the one who gave everything up for the illusion of power, feel regret ? All the chances that we had, all the dreams we could achieve, all the faces we could have met… gone, lost to our putrid souls.

Once upon a time, alone and scared, you decided to throw your life away. Now you’re choking on your pride and for you this may be the only way. As for me, things were always clear, because in the end it’s as simple as this: I’m in love with the risk. But you aren’t.

I want to ask you: was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind? Because, I regret it sometimes: when I look at pure minded children, sunsets and smiles, I regret this path. No matter the results, so many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed…

I looked at our new comrades yesterday: they’re so young, too young to be monsters.

We’d been too young too.

8. The dream of power wasn’t worth your life Xanxus. It wasn’t worth so many years spent in the frozen prison that took whatever was left of your soul. You lost, my cold master, and the price was your own life. So many years have past since you are there, neither alive nor dead, the only one left unchanged.

Somewhere on the path you gave up the fight Xanxus; you just wanted an end to it. In the end you left me behind to face the world that you couldn’t. I know you deep inside, I know the reason and the motive and the fear that drove you to madness so I can’t blame you. Somehow that makes things much worse.

I’ll be here my lord, my ice cold lover. For me this is the best way of living: alone, between the truth and the lies of something that was never meant to be.

I’m here, even though I sometimes feel it was all just a lie. For you, I’ll always be here, even though I remember you smile at my pain and laugh my misery. That doesn’t matter any more- not for me.

All that's done is forgiven

9. Xanxus, I’m standing right before your ice prison, a figure trapped in the past, not knowing of the future. After all this time, I’d like to say please forgive me for the sorrow, for leaving you alone in your fear.

For the dreams we had to silence, for the wish that’s all it'll ever be, I’m here before you, the hand that serves you even though you never believed in me.

Do you know what the dumbest thing is? I keep telling myself: didn't I know how it would go? Didn’t I know from the beginning that the gap between us will always be too large? Yes, I knew. Now I’m asking myself: if I knew from the start... why am I falling apart?

10. They say that when the Gods want to punish us, they grant our wishes; if this is true or not, I don’t know, but neither do I care. I’m at the end of a life lived in the wrong path. I’m tired.

God, I never believed in you, but now I’m asking, pleading for an answer... is it true? Is love stronger than regret? Can our sins be justified by our fears? Is there mercy for the sinners of this world, if such things as sins truly exist? Tell me… Is there anything beyond good and evil? Can it salvage our souls?

Vanity cost us our lives, can we be forgiven for it? No, I know the answer. The truth is that what happens in the name of love and honor is beyond good and evil.

It’s only that no man is rich enough to buy back his own past, even you Xanxus.

Think what you will my ice cold lover, but understand: this is our world of sorrow, the reason you failed and the reason we didn’t.

Can you live with it?

We Apologise for Nothing- Chapter 2/2

Sun, 16 Nov 2008 17:44:33 GMT

Name: We apologize for nothing

Characters: Dino& Squalo

Genre: introspective, romance

Warnings: none except very mild yaoi

Summary: The past marked them by a promise, but they were told by none just how past promises always end up haunting the future.

Chapter I: Blind Will Lead the Blind

We Apologise for Nothing

Chapter 2

The Only Thing They See Is Their Lies

SqualoPOV

If you were to write the story of my life I would deny the chance. A story is a history and history is useless if you aren’t planning to rewrite it; the Gods know that I don’t.

If I were to begin I wonder what I shall be, for the main character is always young, brave and never wrong. I hope I don’t need to say that I never will be the good one. I am the criminal, the monster, the traitor. These are the words that the world defines me by. I will always be captured between the limits you impose on me. Maybe I’ll be the good guy for a minute and even explain to your sorry ass.

Humans are stupid; always were, always will be. They were weak from the very beginning and are marked to be to the bitter end. In such a condition what did they do? Easy, once you think about it: they put borders on a small part of human nature to protect themselves from anyone who happened to think differently; this is the preservation of the species. The weak were called normal and the strong, those who refused all rules to live by their own rule were suddenly ‘freaks’, the proverbial bad guys. Nietzsche called them slaves and aristocrats; the week masses and the strong ‘monsters’. This is the true nature of good and evil: the week govern the world and force anyone else to live in darkness

Understand that this is the difference between Life and Fiction. The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily is what Fiction means. Life is different; it just had to be different, didn’t it? Shit.

The story of my life will be black as the darkness they made me live in; the place where you made me go, Cavallone.

They say that laughter is a good beginning for a friendship, and an even better idea of parting. If that happens to be true, we started well, but never quite ended. I wonder, will we ever? Huh, I’ve started with the ending, haven’t I?

Well, just like in an AA meeting: let the mad hatter introduce himself: I’m called Squalo, believed to be one and feared to be trifled with. My likes are none of your business. My dislikes are none of your business. My family is none of your business. My companions are none of your business. What a pleasant character I have; bloody perfection I tell you. What? Do you want me to say ‘sorry’? Not a single chance. I happen to always be rude and cruel; I make up for it by being severely over educated. Surprised? Well, here is something you should remember, apparent simpleton: living in a world full of assassins, Mafioso, corrupt politicians, and cheep women is a task that needs quite the skill if you want to possess a head by the end of the day. Don’t understand? Well, I’m fresh out of ‘give a fuck’; for more please report to Xanux and I if that doesn’t make you change your mind, I will suggest a lobotomy. Happy? No? You just made my day.

As the next problem on the agenda seems to be the twit (known to the rest of the world as bloody good little Dino) I will say how I met him by claiming amnesia. Honestly, the fucker dropped a freaking cake on my head. Do you know how hard it is to get chocolate out of blond hair? No, you do not. And yes, contrary to popular assumption, my hair is most definitely not white (note to self: find the idiot who said that and bleach him, then find the idiots who believed it and slice them to ribbons; they deserve it, thank you very much). It’s blond. It is!

So anyway, the first time I met Dino, I wanted to kill him; big news I know. Wonder how we ended up friends? Well, if you asked him, he’d sure tell you a long and sappy story. The truth is that he was lonely and so was I, end of story, nothing new. How did we stay friends? Well come on, I may be a bastard, but I’m not that careless: the brat was on the verge of the proverbial fall. It may be funny now to push him, but envy aside, he is strong nowadays. Back then he was this weak thing, more like a girl than a boy, with quite the alarming habit of maiming all those around him. Pushing him down would have been like drowning a small cat. Who does that?! And anyway, it’s not like I did anything special; I just dragged him everywhere. Surprised he went, actually. Twit.

Somehow, (I mush have been sick) I got used to him and before I could do something about my new pet, his mother died. I quite liked her- she was gorgeous as I’m glad to say the twit is not- so I stayed by him. Twenty years after, I wonder why? Maybe someday I’ll even know, though I suspect my parents had a surprising part. They believed it was good for me to do something else other than find ways of killing shit; parents can do that, though why is anyone’s guess. Well, to be frank, mothers are all right: they pay a guy's bills and never bother him, but fathers bother a guy and never pay his bills. That is a very bad thing in any teenager’s book, so yeah, maybe I liked staying in the Cavallone mansion because dad wasn’t there to yell at me for being useless and mother didn’t look at me with that worried gaze that seemed to be her trademark. In Dino’s family, everything was quiet; it was the type of peace only those who come from fucked up families can truly enjoy. They kind of took me in for most of the time- said it was good training for the twit- so when things came tumbling down, I stayed.

Looking back, it was the only thing I could do for them. Understand that I couldn’t become Dino’s consigliore, like my father was for his; I just couldn’t. Don’t ask why, because I don’t know. I guess I was born with a bloodlust and a taste for danger; they’ll be the death of me, I knew it from the very beginning. As I mentioned before: I’m the bad guy in this story, the one no one will remember with a smile. If you still believe me to be just the antagonist or plainly misunderstood, then paint me black wings and crimson tears.

Now we come to the almighty question: why does one become an assassin, forsaking all chances of a normal life? The truth is that I don’t know. No one in the Mafia plans to become what the looking glass tells us we became; we just play our parts the best we can. You will never understand the terror that can come alone at night, the fear that will consume you. You begin to think I am nothing because that is what everyone says about you and while you may play the part of the demon in this theater of masks, you are still human. Seeing their disappointed faces was the only thing you could never bear, but the only thing you ever saw.

You see, to be good by the oh so lovely standards of goodness is ridiculously easy. To be the good guy in the picture, one merely requires a solid amount of terror, an outstanding lack of imagination and a certain passion for a sordid type of respectability. As I said before: very lovely; fucking brilliant. In such a circumstance, it is not surprising I ran away as fast as I could.

The fact is that civilization requires slaves, criminals, whores and thieves. The Greeks, the Romans and the bloody conquistadors actually got it right there. Unless there are lowlifes to do the ugly, horrible, boring work, culture and beauty become impossible. If you don’t see this in today’s society more than ever, you are the true idiot in the story; the fool who doesn’t know what he fights for. What you don’t understand can mean everything. With every breath you take in the nice, good world of the brave, you condemn my kind to darkness even more, because if light is born with darkness, then there will always have to be someone to do take this forsaken part. Don’t forget: the prince of darkness was once the angel of light.

To all those who condemn me I’d like to say that a murderer will walk your streets tonight, tomorrow and forever. Only the foolish get caught, and last time I checked, stupidity makes this particular job quite impossible.

To all those who I had to leave behind I’d like to tell: I’m not sorry. I don’t regret one thing. If I’d have the chance I’d change nothing. But I will ask one last thing of them: to forgive me for my crimes and never forget that I too was young and scared when I had to make my choice; too young.

I don’t regret a thing, but to be frank, this is not the way I pictured this side; I wanted better things, dreamed of them, just like everyone else. Now some are scared, others are killing for fun, one day I even had to shoot a mother in front of her only son so understand that you are a fool if you believe I wanted this. God, if you are listening: take this from my consciousness, and please erase my dreams.

I didn’t want to leave, I never would have left, but it wasn’t my choice. I could have never stayed. I would have destroyed them with this bloodlust that always scared the twit. It scared you. I scared you.

You will always be fond of me, Cavallone. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit. Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one's mistakes. You idiot… I wonder if you still think it was your fault I left. I never knew why you believed that in the first place since I never was half as good as you. Fool.

I did everything I was supposed to do, twit. I kicked you when you were down, betrayed your trust, became what you hated, but I did it. I won the bet. I did.

You made me promise on your mother’s grave that I would never make you cry. I promised; I regretted afterwards, as it led me to a path that will never be by yours, but I did what you told me. Now you won’t mourn for me, or cry, or feel sad. You told me not to leave you, but I had to, because one day I’ll die and all you’ll have will be memories. Now I know you won’t mourn my loss; you don’t have a reason why you should. My memory will never be painful to you now, I made sure of it. And make no mistake: I will die young, but you will not mourn this memory. I will never make you cry.

You fool, I betrayed your trust, but I never betrayed you.

I never break my promises. Never. Back then, the night I left, you looked into my eyes and I just stared at you. On the outside we looked just like two teens saying ‘till we meet again’, but… no. We were two forsaken sinners that will never meet as friends again. On the inside… you were silently broken and part of me was screaming that I'm sorry. For each time I said something I regret I wanted to cry "I don't want to lose you."

You were my only friend, more like a girl then a boy, a child in the role of a man. You were weak, nice and frail and I didn’t want to kill you. I would have killed you in the end; don’t forget that the scar on your back was made by me, the shark’s bite. I had to change the world to make you see me that I was wrong, mad, sick. I had to make you lock the last open door. So you can leave me just like everyone else.

I never break my promises.

I apologise for nothing

We Apologise for Nothing - Chapter 1/2

Thu, 16 Oct 2008 17:10:09 GMT

Name: We apologize for nothing

Characters: Dino& Squalo

Genre: introspective, romance

Warnings: none except very mild yaoi

Summary: 20 years ago they made a promise. Now the ghost of it comes back to haunt them for it is well known that regret never fails to change people.

AN: I wanted to do something that explains their past together- because I have this idea stuck in my head that they have a past together- so I played with it in here.

My personal thank you goes to pollinia for proofreading this fic.

Chapter II: The Only Thing They See Is Their Lies

We Apologise for Nothing

Chapter 1

Blind Will Lead the Blind

Dino POV

20 years ago

‚will you just shut up? I promised you didn’t I? Do I break my promises?

‘Don’t take it like that! But I just know something is gonna happen and you’ll leave me alone! Everyone leaves me alone!’

‘You idiot! When did I ever break my promises to you? You’re my friend and nothing is gonna change that!’

‘If you say so…’

‘Of `course I say so! I never break my promises! And stop crying, you look like a girl! Shesh Dino, you even act like a girl!’

Present:

They say that experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes. I for one do not believe that that my past is a mistake, although it is filled with mistakes. Why? Well, because no matter what they say, you were not a mistake- not for me… To a man such as I, one who prides himself in having little or no regrets remembering the wasted years of my past life is always a task. Just as I said: I was never one to regret much, but I regret the days when I thought I would conquer the world. Anyway, at the family’s mansion there were always plenty of people, in and out at the strangest of hours so I can’t really remember the first time I saw Squalo. I guess he was always there, in the background of my life, the little, blond boy of dad’s Consigliore, the one kid who seemed to be scared of nothing.

Regret does funny things to people; looking back, even the darkest hour seems better than the empty, hollow present. Back then he was always there and call it wishful thinking, but there was a time when I believed he would be there always.

But, let’s start with the begging. My name is Dino Cavallone, I’m 28, a Gemini, and the current Don of the family. I was born into a family neither here nor there. My childhood was neither happy nor sad. In a family with three kids, I’m the middle child. Of all my brothers, I was the most boring one. Crucifixio, the elder was a brilliant violinist and little Andrea seemed to have strategy in the blood. Me? I never did anything special. Never. Well, unless you count getting on everyone’s nerves on a daily basis as a quality, you could say I was useless. Even now I still think that sometimes for you see, ghosts of the past have an annoying hobby of never leaving.

Many expect a Don to be a natural born leader, but that is never the case. I grew up as every normal kid does, laughing with my friends, playing in the sun and fighting with my brothers. There was never anything to mark me for a Mafioso. Life was nice for me even if dad would never be there on birthdays and seemed to always be somewhere taking care of something that we knew nothing about. It was a strange childhood, but I was set to a life of luxury in sunny Tuscany with everything I could have ever wanted. Not that bad of a battle plan, huh? Well, I thought so too. But then everything changed.

I once heard someone say that those whom the gods love die young. Just your luck that they happen to hate me; even if I died they’d call me back just to prove a point. You know, life happens to play th is little game sometimes: it’s almost funny… I was always the boring one. Crux was always the special one, the guy who could never do anything wrong. But one day he just had to go on that mission he wasn’t supposed to and get himself killed. He always taunted me, said ‘maybe something will happen to me, little Dino, and then you will be the next Don’; for a Mafia Heir to die young is not uncommon, but to die at seventeen is very much so.

It’s almost like he planed this from the start, leaving and letting me all alone faced with a life I didn’t want or need. Bastard. You know, maybe he did plan everything? Maybe this is his special way of making a prank on the weak little brother. Sometimes I wonder if he is laughing…. Shit! If this is supposed to be funny Crux, well I’m not laughing. No one is.

To make things even better, less then a year after he died, mom left as well. Cancer. From what I found out later from medical records, it seems she was sick for a long time, but never said a thing. She was so strong, hiding the pills, and the pain, every little thing for years. It must have been so hard for her, but she never showed it. Maybe she was too strong to ask for help or maybe she was afraid that saying it out loud would make it real? I don’t know. She was up until the very end, doing what women of Mafia men do best: supporting her boys…

Surprisingly enough dad didn’t leave, nor did he buckle up under the pain. He was never a strong man; he never recovered after losing his beloved Angelica and his heir Crucifixio in the same blasted year.

We never say anything about pain in the Mafia; a weakness is spelled with death in our narrow world. This is the first thing you learn in a Famiglia: secrets are meant to be just that: secret.

Well, that’s enough of me; I should just tell you about Squalo. I started talking to the little boy of dad’s Consigliore a little after Crux’s death, and before mom’s. How it happened is an irony by itself: I dropped a cake on his head. Stupid, isn’t it? Looking back I wonder why I am still alive. Don’t get me wrong, he too was barely ten by then but that man is nothing if not precocious. For your perverted curiosity only I will say that the first time we talked, Squalo had chocolate cake in his very blond hair. It looked like dung if you ask me.

After that we began to make a sort of fucked up friendship, with me getting him in all sort of embarrassing messes and him calling me an ‘idiotic weak-ass pansy’. Nice times, full of your everyday hitmen training, sword training, dance classes, violin classes, hide from the mad idiot who suddenly has the urge to kill you classes; you get the idea don’t you? He made me forget the weight suddenly pushed on my small shoulders or at least made it more bearable. I could be a kid with him and he may have bitched about it a lot, but he never did anything about it.

Mom died soon after we began to know each other. I can remember the day they buried her. She loved lilies and that was the flower I gave her last, a pure while lily. Just to spite my pain, it was a sunny day, just like she loved it. Even now sunny days remind me of loss and decay. Ironically enough, shortly after meeting Squalo, I began to love the rain… but then again that’s my whole life: one blasted irony after the other.

On a related note, Squalo never left me that day… He was at the chapel in the morning, at the cemetery in the afternoon and late at night when I finally broke down. Funny thing that last one: I may be an emotional twit as he called me, but he was the only one to ever see my tears, my fears and my hopes. I’ll never know why he did it, but that doesn’t really matter to me; he was the only one that stayed with me that night when the lights were out and appearances forgotten. That’s something you can’t forget.

The days flew by as yesterdays. Soon we were faced with work for the academy and there truly is nothing like homework and childhood grudges to help one’s mind off of problems. Ironically enough, Squalo was quite good at school even though he wasn’t a bookworm- surprise of the year- and thought most of the courses were useless crap. Fortunately for him, he was witty enough to realize that good grades got you out of a lot of trouble, smart enough to do decent even with little to no study and lucky enough to have teachers know his potential. He was the type to believe the undeniable fact that nothing worth knowing can be taught, so school for us was just the same as it was for everyone: interesting as shit. Still, it was peaceful, almost nice. That was the time I was closest to him, but at the same time it was the time I lost track of him.

There are times when I think that the heart was made to be broken. We were in senior year by the time I realized that Squalo’s path had trailed away from mine. While I was tripping over my own feet while trying to walk to my own beat, I never noticed he sold his life to hopes and dreams different from mine. Looking back, I can’t help to wonder what kind of friend was I to him, if I never saw him slipping away until he had already fallen far away from me. Squalo? Did I ever do you wrong? Was it my fault? Was I too weak? Were you too strong? Idiot…

You know... what will it take to show you that it's not the life it seems? You are rich, you are popular and you have everything to be happy. You are not. Being a Don Dino Cavallone means singing the words to the world, but not knowing what they really means. I tell you “I’m ok”, but do you believe that anyone is truly happy in this world? I laugh and smile like it’s nothing because that is the job, my friend: a don will not show sadness, resent or bitterness because these are weaknesses that a don can not have. Who cares what you feel as long as they are content with the life they live? Who cares that you walk through life blinded by your own (fake) smile? He did. He said he couldn’t work for someone as lost as me and left the next day. Who cares if he did? He saw though my façade back then the same way he would see through it now. Yes, I am better than I was then, but not (really) ok.

So this is the story of my life. I know it isn't black or white and it's anything but grey. I know that no I'm not alright, but I feel ok (liar).

Hey Squalo? Do you even remember the promise we made to never give up, to always move forward? Looking back, would you think we were stupid? Would you come back if given the chance? If that’s what it takes, I’d give you thousands of chances, one for everyday since you flew away from me.

I made you swear the night mom died not to leave me alone. You said you wouldn’t, not if you could help it. You said you wouldn’t break your promise to me, but…

It’s been 10 years Squalo. You said ‘forever’, that you’d never go, but I was right, wasn’t I? You left me, just like everyone else. You left me to fight these memories, this life and fate that I didn’t want, that I hate.

I understand it now, although I couldn’t for the longest time. You were afraid weren’t you? How long were you scared to face yourself? How many nights did you wake up scared that the bloodlust that runs through your veins would be the death of you? That’s why you ran away; nothing about searching for power, nothing to do with strength. Were you afraid to be tied down by actually caring about someone other than yourself? Were you scared of what this world would make you become? Did you forsake yourself just to break away from the fate that binds us all? I will never know. I betrayed you and sometimes it hurts like hell knowing that you will never come home. Because I know it: you won’t come back; you are made of future wishes, not past promises.

I know I just wasn’t enough back then. I couldn’t stop you or help you if things got out of hand, but Xanxus could. Did you see in him the man or the power; I should say when things get out of hand, because you knew it as well as me that one day, your ambition will [would] kill you and anyone around you.

You were made of the future and I thrived in the past… is that why you left?

You were just like me back then, but that makes it so much worse: scared and alone. What can I say after all these years? That I hope you’re doing well, when I know you would slap me for wishing such a useless thing? What can I say? I miss you, not the ‘you’ of the moment, but the kid you were back then, before life tainted the light in your eyes just like it tainted mine.

I saw you yesterday at the Vongola Mansion. You looked happy; you reached your dream, so I guess you should, but tell me: are you really? I know you changed- everything’s changed- but…I miss you. Next time I’ll see you, maybe I’ll even tell you.

Know something? I stopped tripping over my own feet. I’m standing on my own just like you told me a man should do. I’m strong enough now, but after all this time, would you even care? I wish you would, but honestly, I don’t think so.

Squalo… you always break your promises.

Dino/Squalo fic help

Wed, 01 Oct 2008 08:59:17 GMT

Misaki( who speaks of herself like this most of the time) just finished her new fic, that oddly enough, is not a one-shot. However, as the problem that always arises with each piece of fanfiction she creates, namely her outstanding lack of an English heritage, she would like to request your help.

Otherwise said: would someone please proof-read my new DS fic? I’ll even bribe the lucky person with a fic with whatever character& genre she (or he) prefers. (Also because I don’t know what to write and I need an idea. any idea.)

Beware for in my fiction Dino is not a happy cheery boss who never does anything, but an actual mafia Don and Squalo actually acts like a mad power hungry genius, not like a retarded bastard.

That being said, more info below and don’t forget the fic-of-your-choice bribe.

Name: We apologize for nothing

Characters: Dino& Squalo

Genre: introspective, romance

Warnings: none except very mild yaoi

Related to the fic: I wanted to do something that explaines their past together- because I have this idea stuck in my head that they have a past together- so I played with it in here.

Short summary: 20 years ago they made a promise. Now the ghost of it comes back to haunt them for it is well known that regret does very odd things to people.

Part of the madness( namely the fic):

Form Dino’s part: what will it take to show you that it's not the life it seems? You are rich, you are popular and you have everything to be happy. You are not. Being a Don Dino Cavallone means singing the words to the world, but not knowing what they really means. I tell you „I’m ok”, but do you believe that anyone is truly happy in this world? I laugh and smile like it’s nothing because that is the job my friend: a don will not show sadness, resent or bitterness because these are weakness that a don can not have. Who cares what you feel as long as they are content with the life they live? Who cares that you walk through life blinded by your own (fake) smile? He did.

From Squalo’s part: Now we come to the almighty question: why does one become an assassin, forsaking all chances of a normal life? The truth is that I don’t know. No one in the Mafia plans to become what the looking glass tells us we became; we just play our parts the best we can. You will never understand the terror that can come alone at night, the fear that will consume you. You begin to think `I am nothing` because that is what everyone says about you and while you may play the part of the demon in this theater of masks, you are still human. Seeing their disappointed faces was the only thing you could never bear, but the only thing you ever saw.

if you like the idea just comment.^_^

Freefall

Sun, 03 Aug 2008 17:07:48 GMT

Title: Freefall

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Rating: PG-15

Warning: Disturbing theme and swearing

Character: Xanxus POV

Summary: All you have to see Xanxus is that you turned out to be one shitty bastard. 2 glasses. 2 aspirins. Repeat.

Prompt for

10_shakespearefor this line: God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

FREEFALL

Have you ever heard the story of the great fall? It’s an ancient tale talking about Lucifer’s revolution against God, well known amongst believers of the Christian Myths. Pride, the gravest of the seven deadly sins, led to the expulsion from Heaven of God’s angels, up to the highest orders. Lucifer, the leader of those who succumbed to pride and lust, was the first and mightiest angel to ever be created. With intelligence, radiance, beauty, and power unmatched even in Heaven, Lucifer was second only to God Himself.

Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Lucifer became ambitious and self-centered, eventually deciding to prove his power by raising his throne to the height of God's throne. The other angels disapproved of Lucifer's plan; they did not want a lower being to become the equal of God, the imperfect creation attempting to the perfection of the creator. When Lucifer enacted his scheme, he was instantly hurled out of Heaven.

The ancient story of the fall...

Pride is a beautiful thing, isn’t it? As corrupt and putrid as you can only imagine it is the first and foremost sin of humanity. All of us want more and more, not knowing when to stop. You are human and this makes pride your sin as well.

Do you think you know what it’s like to be dead in the eyes of the living? It’s worse than death itself. It feels like God in heaven gave you a turn to deal with all the insanity in this nightmare. It’s like everything you try can only burn. It’s an endless trial with no room for useless sympathies and so called friends that will stab you in the back at the first chance they get. Things like ‘luck’ don’t exist for an assassin. Love even less. It’s just you and an endless army of foes, each with the same face, each one with the same fucking face as the idiot who raised you to be someone you’re not. You fell from grace, you are lost, you are human.

Pride was your death.

What you don't understand you can make mean anything.

2 glasses. 2 aspirins. Repeat.

Your handwriting shows your opinion on live. The way you walk tells everyone exactly what you hope to accomplish in it. The china pattern you choose. Your 10 year old dog. It's all giving you away. Everything you do shows who you really are. Everything is a portrait. Everything is a diary depicting your own personal decay.

2 glasses. 2 aspirins. Repeat. Cheers to all those who don’t understand a thing.

You are not a god. You are not a mere mortal. You are only a simple minded human who fell from the graces of the living. They call you ‘mad’ and ‘criminal’, but they don’t know anything; they never did, but then again, did you?

You like to judge, but would you like to be judged? Would you like to be called insane? Do you even know how it is to be insane? Imagine knowing that all your screaming has gone unheard. Try having no one there to believe in you. Think about how it feels to know they all look at you like you are worth nothing. You are nothing.

If the only people who can bare your presence are assassins…

It the only guy who will listen to what you say is a degenerated necrophilic…

It the only child you know, killed his own brother …

If the only one who truly follows you, cut off his own hand…

If even these people think you are an insane son of a bitch, then you my dear bastard know how it feels to be insane.

2 glasses. 2 aspirins. Repeat. Cheers to all the fools who will never don’t understand anything.

Everything is a portrait in this life. What you say, who you meet and what you do… everything tells everyone that you managed to ruin your life. The depiction of the fall is your portrait; it’s your freefall from life, the face of your shame.

You are nothing.

So get up, look in the mirror and stare; through a glass at Squalo’s head while you’re at it, just for being there to witness your disgrace. Go and take a good long look. See it clearly: your life, friends and family. Look at the movie your image creates. Scream at the terror of having failed, throw, yell and make everyone who can see regret it dearly.

That’s you: the fucking portrait of a blinking idiot.

2 glasses. 2 aspirins. Repeat.

Everything is a portrait… if yours just happens to scream at you, well shit. You can cry or beg, maim and kill, but the evidence of the fall will always be there, staring back in the mirror of shattered dreams. Scream all you like. No one will hear.

Cheers to everyone who will never know a thing.

2 glasses. 2 aspirins. Repeat.

All you have to see Xanxus is that you turned out to be one shitty bastard.

You fell from grace.

You are nothing.

2 glasses. 2 aspirins. Repeat.

Sat, 19 Apr 2008 17:50:45 GMT

Title: Paradigm shift
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Rating: PG-15
Warnings: Disturbing theme
Summary: this is a prompt for 10_shakespeare with this line:
The devil can cite scripture for his purpose.( Quote Act I, sce. III)
Character: Belphegor POV

Summary: You envy the foolish and week masses that walk their way through life closing their eyes to everything that doesn’t suit their stylistic fancies. You hate them and want them all to walk the thin line that separates them from you and your insanity. You would kill them for their ignorance, cut them to pieces and hang them from a high place so they can see that their pure white world is tainted crimson with the blood of every innocent that ever died not knowing what to fight for.

Disclaimer: I do not own “Katekyo Hitman Reborn” or “The Merchant of Venice”

Nietzsche once said that good end evil, the pillars of our world don’t really exist. He said that in Thus Spoke Zarathustra, a tale about a prophet finding his way in life. By chance or not, I have always believed this to be true. It makes sense: you erase the ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ concepts from your mind when you are standing on the other side of the line, the one everybody who likes a quiet life condemns and loves to put the blame on. When you are the villain you are the blamed one and that teaches you never to believe in what others say.

Murderers, liars, monsters… we’re all quite the same. It’s only when they begin to condemn you that you see the real depth of their ignorance,your ignorance. You wonder what is worse: to make believe everything that doesn’t fit your view of the world doesn’t exist or to act as if all the insanity in the world is real and wait till they crucify you for your beliefs. Rule number 1: don’t ever think they will be nice if you’ll say what you truly believe.

Nobody really cares about good and evil unless the pair walks into their lives and forces them to make a choice. What should they stand up for? What is right, best, easiest? Or the classical answer of all the believers in the world: the law? It is easy to condemn others for their mistakes and pretend you wouldn’t have done the same in their place. Humans are week for this type of things as they are for others, but you won’t condemn them now because you love them for their blindness.

They think you a monster for killing your own brother, but they think themselves as open-minded if they talk about hypothetical abortions on imaginary daughters. They condemn you for taking life when they openly support wars and slaughter through their taxes and refuse to say “no” to the madness of it all. Why should they say it and be different? You did and look at you now… you are the monster who bathes in the blood of his victims at the 5 o’clock news. It doesn’t even matter if it is true or not; for them you are a disease, something too unclean to ever see the sun. You represent everything they fear, the anarchist they all secretly fear to become, the one that might just break the spell that hides their wishes from the world.

Belphegor, the monster… it was a mistake really. You weren’t born a cold blooded murderer. You were born into this world as naked and dirty as everyone else. You loved your twin brother and played with him in the sand or went on long treasure hunts o your family’s lands that always left your nannies worried about what would happen to them should the little masters disappear. Your family is the one to blame. Brother was smarter or so your tutors said, but you know you were the brilliant one; it was their fault for not seeing the beauty of torment and despair. Your brother was better, the future king, the one who would not be a prince for long. You were the spare, the second, weaker son, the disappointment…Your family sent your twin image against you; he was the one who took everything from you; he tried to kill you first. A prince is perfect and never allows traitors to live.

You understand now. Royalty was always inbred for maintaining the purity of the line. Your fault in life was to be born sane in a family that made you go insane. Lovely irony, isn’t it? This is the thing you loved about the Varia from the very beginning. Each and every one of you is an assassin that will kill on sight, but none of you actually thought that your choices would lead to this journey.

Take Mammon who wanted to become an Arcobaleno all his life, but ended up hating it once he saw the extent of his curse. Lussuria was born by a father who killed his prostitute mother and sold his child to drug dealers. Levi never received anything in his life without a fight and will kill for the chance to prove himself. Squalo is the insane bastard that everyone believed would become the Cavalone’s Don Underboss; no one really knew why he never did, only that he regretted it even more as he found himself unable to harm his past friend; he hates himself for it, but we can’t choose who we love can we? If we could none of us would have ended up where we did. As for Xanxus… well let’s not even go there; I will only tell you this: the opposite to love isn’t hare nor is it indifference; it’s disappointment.

How do you know this? You are called Varia’s genius for a reason. You see people and the masks that they wear; how they hide form themselves and lie to the world that everything is all right when alone at night they know that it isn’t. These are the times you hate them for their blindness. To lie to the world is something, but to lie to yourself is just idiotic; or as Nietzsche called it: human.

You envy the foolish and week masses that walk their way through life closing their eyes to everything that doesn’t suit their stylistic fancies. You hate them and want them all to walk the thin line that separates them from you and your insanity. You would kill them for their ignorance, cut them to pieces and hang them from a high place so they can see that their pure white world is tainted crimson with the blood of every innocent that ever died not knowing what to fight for.

There’s a you and there’s a them, good and evil, right and wrong call it whatever you want, behind it lays only fear. You know this and embrace it wholly you know that if they stopped living in fear they would die crushed by the beautiful madness of the world they thought they knew so well. There would not be any good or evil, so how could the good and week people of this world live if the foundation of their mind suddenly crashed? One would not be either in the ‘good’ or the ‘bad’ side of the highway because it would not exist.

It’s only a decision you see, this ’good’ and ‘evil’. You are the bad one, or so they say? Who can tell if you aren’t the good one? One opinion values just as much as the fear it hides from. It doesn’t really matter because you take the mask of fear that hides the nature of the world and wear it day after day. The Ripping Prince, Belphegor … you take that mask because good and evil are just masks that we hide under. It doesn’t matter because today you wear it too. Good and evil are choices.

Today, evil means you.

My confession

Tue, 12 Feb 2008 19:56:00 GMT

Title: Once upon a time
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: yaoi and swearing
Summary: this is a prompt for 10_shakespeare with these lines:
Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth.
Well then, confess, and live.
'Confess' and 'love' had been the very sum of my confession.
Pairing: Dino/Squalo
Disclaimer: I do not own “Katekyo Hitman Reborn” or “The Merchant of Venice”

Once upon a time

Once upon a time, there was an abandoned classroom cluttered with a bitter memory of loss and farewell. No one visited it unless lost or in a desperate need of silence. The walls were full with faded pictures of long gone students that seemed to gaze down on whoever dared disrupt their sanctuary, and newspaper cuts filled whatever space there was left open on the stone walls. Year round the only noise that could be heard in the silent room was made by the lone animals that took shelter in the old astronomy tower. I loved it.

Funny thing how memories of the things you used to love seem bitter as the yeas pass. You don’t think about it much, because you're young and reminiscence seems to be something for the elderly to do, but one day the rain brings back a memory of long sunny afternoons and cold windy nights. Memory is the funny thing in the end; it stands for all the things we never want to remember, but hope never to forget.

Problem is that on the same day you find yourself walking up on memory lane you find your eyes burn with unleashed regrets and the bitter taste of finding your memories fade with time.

“How did it come to this?” you hear yourself ask as if the answer could be given by someone else. You try to reminisce because in that moment the weight of your thoughts seems to be heavier than that of the few years behind you. It comes back to you, slowly at first, faster soon enough and you ask again “How?” It seems distant and foreign, your mind. Smells, faces and loss seem to mix themselves in what was supposed to be the best period of your youth. You look at his still face again and don’t even have the courage to ask now.

Uncalled for and almost forgotten a broken piece of memory falls into your hands. You are not strong enough to throw it away. You take it and hope it will provide the answer you don’t really want to know.

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

“Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth.”

”Well then, confess, and live.”

” 'Confess' and 'love' had been the very sum of my confession.”

“We are never going to finish if you don’t stop laughing at the end of every verse!”

“Shut the fuck up Mr. I’m so much better, you are laughing to!”

“True, but you started it.”

“Blame me why don’t you? It’s not my fault the old bat is insane. Shakespeare? What the fuck are we? Moralistic pansies?”

“It’s for our education Squalo!”

“Education my well groomed ass! We’re fucking hitmen not bloody comedy actors!”

“It’s a classic!”

“Yhea, well so is my ass!”

“Yes, well your ass aside we still have to finish learning this play by tomorrow.”

“Remind me again why?”

“Because Lippi’s gonna flunk us if we don’t learn it by noon?”

“And how did I end up from that to confessing my eternal love to you of all people?”

“Because you can learn faster by role-play than by reading the blasted thing 30 times over?”

“Oii! You swore! Hear me world! The great goody two shoes Dino Chiavalone started swearing? Lord help us! We are going down… to be or not to be….”

“Wrong play idiot!”

“Oww! The fuck did you have to hit me with the fucking script for?”

“Because I always had my doubts, but now the mystery’s cleared! You are an idiot!”

“Twit!”

“Fool!”

“Stupid!”

“Again?”

“Do we have a choice?”

“Does it matter?”

“Promise me…”

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

We were 18 that year. It was the last month of school and we were both failing miserably at literature. We rehearsed hours for the play in the school’s unused astronomy tower. Our project Shakespeare’s “the merchant of Venice” failed miserably too. Anyone who knows us would also know why. We were saves only by a large bribe in the hands of our greedy professor. High school is a weird time, but ours at a Mafioso school was so much more. But that doesn’t matter, because life made it not matter any more; things that at the time seemed crucial- like having a date to the prom or a passing grade- seem as far as the mind can comprehend. “How did it come to this?” you think you know the answer now.

He wakes up.

“Hi.”

"...Why did you save me...? It would have been better off if you had let me be..."

"If I let you die now, it would be a problem for me too."

"You were always naïve, since long ago..." You try not to think of how week and defeated he sounds. You pretend he isn’t because you know he’d prefer it that way and ask after what feels like years passed in a heartbeat.

„Why did you do it?” He stares hard at the rain outside the hospital room window before answering.

“Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth.”

Surprise seems a small word now.

”Well then, confess, and live. “

” 'Confess' and 'love' had been the very sum of my confession.”

He looks at you for the first time and you know why he saved you. You know the answer now as you know your bitter memories that don’t seem so distant now and the reason for the rain outside.” I love you too” you almost say but don’t. He knows it better than you and probably did so for a long time.

Once upon a time there was an unused attic, a problem and a question. Now the attic was no more, the problem became the question that didn’t really need an answer.

“Not gonna say something?”

“There’s no need to.”

There truly wasn’t and this is became the only answer you ever needed.

Misaki actually wrote something! Run for your lifes!

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 20:00:48 GMT

Reborn is my newest manga fandom so what could i do but be a part of it. As this is Dino's birthday and because i love him so much here comes a fanfic wrote by someone who usually recommends fics. The critic tried to write. Run far away people. Inspired by "my obsession" by Skillet.
Anyway~ behold my first-born.

Title: My obsession
Author: misaki_sitara
Rating - PG13 i'd say
Pairing - Dino/Squalo
Warnings - yaoi, slight kinks and Squalo's very dirty mouth
Summary - Do you know how they tell you drugs are bad for you? Well some people can be just as addictive as any drug.

My Obsession

Do you know how they tell you drugs are bad for you? How they give you an addiction, meddle with your mind, your soul, your life? Make you want to live for them, breathe for them, steal for them? How you can sink so low as to kill for them? They become your purpose, your so wanted possession? Your infatuation?

Yeah... maybe you do. You know that once it starts you will live and die in your obsession. Ask any addict out there and they will tell you that you can stop using them but you can’t stop your obsession about them. I’ll tell you even more, something that they will never say to you: people can be just as addictive as any drug.

You can tell yourself „no!” until you almost make yourself believe it. You can try to run away as far as you can but they stay with you like the rotten memory of yesterdays long since past and tomorrows that will never be. the further you go the deeper you sink; the deeper you sink the more you try to get away only to find that the problem isn’t him, it’s you; you with fucking heart and idiotic impossible obsession.

Why? Because of his nice little manners and your horrible reputation, his pristine blond hair and his oh-so-lame attitude; you see it as clear as day: he’s the good guy, the one who rescues fucking cats out of trees and gets old women past streets while you would most likely polish your shiny award for “the most times used “fuck” in a sentence”. You know this impossible love crap don’t you? It’s the fucking same since Romeo and Crapliet. Shitty story that always has to be fucking true!

You know the drill – boy meets girl, boy likes girl, girl hates boy. Boy doesn’t know it so boy pulls girl’s hair, pushes her over, laughs at her, and makes her life a living hell. Girl cries and runs far away, and boy doesn’t know why he feels so sad and hurt about it. After all, they’re young and naïve, and when they’re older they’ll know what was going on and make things right.

That’s kinda like you and me, isn’t it, Chiavorone? Except for the childish taunts and hair-pulling – although my hair is probably long enough I’m not the girl here an I? We say in bites and scratches and curses and clashes what we fear to actually say don’t we? We’ve been lashing out at each other hitting and cutting ever since we first saw each other. Even after all this time we would still push each other down staircases and wait for the ‘crack’ as the other hits the bottom. I should say if the other hits the bottom shouldn’t I?

The fucking same isn’t it? Except it should start with boy meets boy, right? You are a boy aren’t you Dino-chan? So maybe it’s not the same so let’s rewrite the fairytale Dina?

Let’s see, why don’t we: boy meets boy, boy likes boy, boy hurts boy and makes him cry and bleed and scream year after fucking year. One boy is a blond klutz with a dark past and an even darker job. That’d be you, twit. Other one is a silver angel who fell into sin that doesn’t sing the harp but makes blades dance ---what the fuck shut up idiot I can hear you laughing even in a fucking letter! It’s your fault for fucking a guy called Superbi, Chiavorone. Oh my! I just used the “F” word in a whole other way, didn’t I? And don’t you dare pretend you don’t like it, love. You are way more perverted than I’ll ever be. Shit! You flick a whip at everybody to meet. You’re a lucky bitch I’m not fucking jealous.

Whatever! One lashes and the other slashes and that’s just the way it fucking is. Next thing they know, we fucking know, one’s touch becomes the other’s cage and one’s love becomes the other’s obsession. Should I say they fucking hate it? Should I say one trips and falls because he feels so helpless? The other runs far, far away fighting and just running away because he knows should the first just ask he will follow?

Year after year after year. I hate you Chiavorone. I hate your hair and your lips and you; your touch and your ways that leave me feeling dumb without reason. You make me feel the same: resigned to be your fool. I’m stuck in the same place you made me stay in. You idiotic twit make me spend my days tangled in thoughts of you. Your love became my cage my prison so fucking pleasing.

Hate you, Hate you, Hate you.

I’m exploding like chemicals when I think of you. I’m going crazy, can't get enough my dear, fucking love. My darling little drug.

So yeah… I’m a lunatic. I’m crazy for just a word from you, for just a touch from you. So boy will hate boy and make him hurt and scream and cry. Then the boys become kind of- sort of friends, but they like each other too much for that to last at all, so one day they kiss, and become lovers and live passionately ever after while kicking and screaming because after hundreds of years, this fairytales always becomes true.

So come with me and don't ever say that it's over. I’d kiss your feet, worship the air you breathe and kind of- sort of love you. Don’t you dare say no twit because somehow somewhere you became my purpose, my wanted possession and my idiotic infatuation.

Your love is my gift. Should you ask I’d still follow. I can run but I can’t get away. You can try too and you might just make it; but one day you’ll wake up tripping over the same memories that won’t go away and wishes that will never disappear.

In the end why should you come? Because you’re the good guy, the one that gets cats out of trees and helps old ladies. Because you are my dream, my wish and you’d never leave me stranded in my obsession just like I’d never leave you fucking helpless. Because I can’t run anymore I’m asking you to make me stay.

Come because this impossible love crap is a fairytale that always becomes true.

Twit.

The Harry Potter recs of doom!!!

Thu, 31 Jan 2008 19:52:33 GMT

Title: Five Women Who Hate Fleur Delacour

Author: </a></a></a></div>snegurochka_lee

Fandom: Harry Potter

Rating: PG-13

Words: ~7,300

Link: here

Genre: mostly gen

Pairing: vaguely Fleur/Bill

Why should you care: because it’s a good genfic about an interesting character used way to rarely and badly. It manages to be good but in a very weird way that will make you hate Fleur only to feel like “crap, she’s right” in the end. Interesting. overall 8/10 given by a picky judge.

Quote: She imagined Fleur had followed the same path as so many girls before her: Molly Prewett, the best in her year at Muggle Studies who married Arthur and then let him fiddle around with television sets and windshield wipers; Narcissa Black, who spoke flawless French and German and lived secluded away in that manor like an aristocratic woman of ancient Athens; Nymphadora Tonks, the cleverest witch of her age who had endless talent, a brilliant job, and completely lost the ability to get out of bed in the mornings anytime a man she fancied refused to ask her out.

Minerva hated women like that.

Title: The Boy Who Lived

Author: PigWithHair

Fandom: Harry Potter

Link: here

Genre: gen + character death

Why should you care: in the last months I think I read about all the DH-compliant fics out there. I will say this once OMG!!! Now that that’s out, lets continue: basically this takes place 90 years in the future. Harry’s old. Ginny’s old, heck their kids are old and as for Ron and Hermione… let’s not go there. This is very canon compliant and for me it’s as close to an ending as HP could get for me. An advice : READ IT NOW!!!

Quote:

Should she mention his title as head of the Auror office for all those years? Should she include that he’d been a Triwizard Tournament champion in his youth? There were so many great things to say about him, but thinking back she remembered Mr Potter as he had appeared when she had first caught sight of him that day at his home, dressed in too-large trousers, an old housecoat and bedroom slippers. After two more attempts, she sat back and sighed, reading over what she had written.

Dedicated to the memory of

Harry James Potter

The Boy Who Lived

Title: unsticking the shadow

Author: </a></a></a></div>pogrebin

Fandom: Harry Potter

Link: here

Genre: AU

Rating: PG-15 for the philosophical themes

Why should you care: have you ever wondered what would happen if the muggleborns were blamed for everything? If nothing read for the authors sheer brilliance. 10/10

Quote: Situational irony was used to great effect by a playwright by the name of William Shakespeare, and Hermione thinks there is something almost Shakespearian in the way that Voldemort begins his article by confessing his name and his heritage and ends it by using his own example to prove his point. Mudbloods are evil bastards, wizards and witches of the wizarding world- take look at how I turned out. Phrases like: a generation of crossbreed Dark Lords a coiled serpent of suppressed Muggle rage a sinister foe that walks among you and slowly drinks your blood.

The word “you” is what disturbs Hermione most about the entire piece.

“You” and “we”

“Them” and “us”

Voldemort has just placed himself on the side of the Muggleborns.

Hermione smiles suddenly.

It is beautiful and unspeakable.

Hermione meets Harry’s eyes and says, “Voldemort has just destroyed us.”

Akatsuki recs

Wed, 24 Oct 2007 16:21:27 GMT

Title: Vainglorious

Author: pridefall

Fandom: Naruto

Link: here

Genre: gen

Pairing: none

Why should you care: this is one of the best akatsuki fics out there and trust me on that because practically everything I read in the Narutoverse is akatsuki. The author captures all of their characters beautifully and makes them seam believable.

Quote:

The Fates be damned -- I will not die a fool.
---
The Kyuubi no Kitsune roars for the first time in fifteen years, and even the gods themselves tremble in fear.

Title: Crash

Author: sharingank

Fandom: Naruto

Link: here

Genre: mature

Pairing: tobi/ deidata

Why should you care: I must say that this is the fic that made dei/tobi one of my favourite crack pairings. This fic is just love in a very smutty though not too graphic way. Mainly it’s something you might just die of blood loss over. Did I mention that the dialogue is brilliant also? Check it. Seriously. Now.

Quote:

The water continued pouring down in a steady stream, covering both of them. Tiny droplets clung to the ends of Tobi’s black hair before falling like rain on Deidara’s skin.

“You’re too fucking tall, un.”

Tobi kissed him, hard.

“From my perspective, that’s an advantage.”

To prove it, he reached up and averted the showerhead so that the water wouldn’t impede him, and used his weight to press Deidara forward. In order to prevent being jabbed in the stomach by the brass faucet handle, Deidara had to brace his hands against the slick wall.

Well shit.

Tobi spoke the truth. Deidara did know what the dumbass was doing. And he wasn’t sure he liked it.

Then again…

He wasn’t sure he disliked it either. This side of Tobi was completely new. Usually, Deidara was the aggressor.

Shit, shit, shit.

Draco rec

Tue, 23 Oct 2007 15:34:56 GMT

Title: The Dark

Fandom: Harry Potter

Link: here

Genre: angst/ horror

Pairing: none

Why should you care: haunting doesn't even begin to make justice for this fic. It leaves you with a good old 'wtf' expression and a rather nasty sensation of despair and hopelessness. But if you're one like me that doesn't think anything of a story if it doesn't leave one emotion or the other lingering you may like it.

Quote:

Creak.

"It's not like I don't like them."

Creak.

"It's just like... cobwebs, you know, little ones tracing over my forearms and... you know about the cobwebs, don't you?"

Creak.

"Trapped, coated in waste cleverly disguised so thinly that you can't see it. Waste. Always waste. Is that how we lived, Father?"

Creak.

The Old Man

Mon, 22 Oct 2007 16:57:45 GMT

Fandom: Naruto

Link: here

Pairing: none

Why should you care:

I began reading it reluctantly, but after the first paragraph I couldn't stop. It's gripping, interesting and a very original and non-morbid( is that even a word?) take on Naruto's death. It's one of those stories that manages to be sweet but not sappy or sad.

Quote: So it was, as one hundred and sixteen years of age, Uzumaki Naruto passed into his last great adventure. He had lived a long and fulfilling life, bringing light into every life he touched.

Seven Things That Didn't Happen to Team 7 (Naruto, oneshot)

Sun, 07 Oct 2007 15:05:22 GMT

Fandom: Naruto
Link: here
Pairing: none
Author on LJ: </a></a>aishuu
Why this must be read: Because it's one of those drabble colections that leave you gaping like a fish after reading them. Some are funny, some are fluffy, some are sad but each and every one of them is as disturbing as can be. The fact that they're AUs funny enough adds to this. just read them. You won't regret.
Quote: The door exploded inwards, right off its hinges. Amazingly, the eraser didn't even move as the jounin appeared. "Helllllooooo, my little brats! I'm Miturashi Anko, and I'll be your team leader!" the woman announced, grinning in a terrifying fashion. She paused, then continued. "Welcome to hell."


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