give me a pairing or a person and a prompt. or a prompt only. and i'll try to drabble/write it. prompts can be pictures, lyrics, words, quotes, songs, videos, anything.

this post will remain at the top of this journal so you can always request/prompt me and how many times you want to. i'll get back to you when/if i've done any of your requests.

feel free to watch the journal for updates as well ♥

another Battle Royale/jrock fic. one-sided ruki/reita. abuse of real names. this is quite long, at least for something written by me - and I actually finished this today. :o the title is very unoriginal/shit because i couldn't figure out a better one. OH WELL.

( This game... it changes people. )

err long time no see! i've had a horrible writer's block since august, plus i've been terribly busy since i started working again.

inspired by muses. i started writing this in october, but i didn't finish it until now. idk about the ending, but i needed to get this done to help me out of this writing slump. :X

( You're a really fucked up kid, but I'm sure you're perfectly aware of that. )

going to post all of the drabbles I wrote over here. They're all GazettE-related and most are a little fucked up. i edited some also - mainly typos and stuff.

enjoy.


( this is what you've done to me (reita/ruki - ruki POV) ; posted July 29th )

( you don't see what i see (reita/ruki - reita POV) ; posted July 29th )

( cocaine is spelled l-o-n-l-i-n-e-s-s (reita/ruki) ; posted July 30th )

( i bet you think this song is about you (kyo/ruki - kyo POV) posted July 30th )

( the evil twin (ruki POV) ; posted July 31st )

( kiss me love me kill me (kyo/ruki) ; posted July 31st )

( lost? (reita/ruki) ; posted August 3rd )

( railroad tracks (ruki POV) ; posted August 3rd )

( i'm (not) okay (hinted reita/ruki) ; posted August 4th )

reita/ruki ; angsty as fuck.
for gazette, my reituki muse ♥
every *** break indicates a switch in POV and it should be pretty obvious who is who.

( i break your heart every day, but you won't leave my side. )

reita/ruki ; darkfic, au. this is some seriously messed up shit.
for gazette ♥

the lyrics in italics are from these songs;
1) nine inch nails - the perfect drug
2) glassjaw - piano
3) glassjaw - pretty lush

( Is this what love is? )

"beauty is in the eye of the beholder and if someone doesn't find you beautiful you have to accept it"

"i won't! i want everyone to think i'm beautiful!"

"but they won't, not everyone can think the same"

"media tells me differently!"

"media is filled with lies and filth, you shouldn't believe too much in it"

"are you religious? you sound like you are religious"

"what does that have to do with anything?"

"just answer!"

"i believe in god, yes"

"i think you're going to hell"

"why would you say such a thing?"

"you just crushed my dreams! that's a sin isn't it?"

"no, it's not"

"well it should be! cant we just rewrite the bible?"

"you cant just rewrite god's words!"

"i hate christians"

"do you hate me?"

"only sometimes"

"i guess that's good enough"

ummmm, i dunno? :x karyu & tsukasa as unfortunate students ending up in battle royale, basically, and this is them discussing what they're gonna do. ive been wanting to write something battle royale aaaand something d'espairsray for a while now, so here i am combining the two. it's short like everything else but i'm putting it under cut anyway because the description is so long, lmao.

if you don't know what battle royale is get your ass out to watch/read it google it :D you don't have to have read the book/manga or seen the movie to read this though.

karyu/tsukasa. this shit is angsty, yo. i am a bit rusty when it comes to writing d'espairsray so forgive me if it sucks horribly.

( What do we do? )

for gazette ♥
uruha/ruki ; take your hatred out on me.


predatory eyes and feline smile. ruki bared his teeth and for a split second he realised how primitive it all was and he wondered what the hell they were s doing. that's when uruha gave his best cheshire cat grin and ruki didn't think anymore. cat was fitting - cats are lazy, arrogant and self-centered. just like uruha. and ruki had always been a dog-person.

suddenly uruha was over him, pinning him down, and his twisted grin seemed to be stretched all across his face. ruki growled. "fuck you."

"that's all you've got? after years of writing deep lyrics," uruha said, the 'deep' coming out as a snort, "and that's all you've got to say? come on." he leaned down to whisper against ruki's ear.

"tell me how much you hate me."

i put this under cut since it's longer than the other stuff i have posted here. which isn't at all that long but hey. comments & con-crit would be awesome as this idea mulled around in my head for like 2 days before i decided to give in and write it down.

( Deep inside I know I would kill to have her back. )

he is hard and heavy. hard inside, heavy on top. he is fire and ice. he is hands, lips, teeth, eyes, and an atrocious mind. his voice is filled with promised pain.

"you're nothing but a whore." hips move forward - demanding, harsh, relentless, merciless. "but you know that already." that's what hurts the most.

his hands are around the other's throat now, pressing hard and he expects fear but is only met by a blank stare.

"you know, people reveal a lot when they think they're gonna die." he pauses and leans in closer. "but you, you're something else." he sounds almost amused and the other shows a smile that would challenge mona lisa's when it came to being cryptic.

he presses his thumbs down hard over his vocal chords. "maybe i'll actually kill you." the other says nothing, showing no signs of fear or anything else you should be feeling when someone threatens to take your life. "or maybe not." he bites again.

skin against skin.

"you're not scared." he is ice now, staring him down. freezing. "i see it now. your revelation."

"what is it?" the other speaks for the first time since he was tied down in the bed.

he leans close and whispers and suddenly he is fire again. burning up.

"you want to die." and just a whisper is enough to set him on fire.

there's a tornado in my mind. it's making the words and images spin around and around until i can't think straight anymore.



we don't write for each other anymore.

sometimes i wonder if writing was all we had because even if we speak everyday our words are hollow. no hidden meanings, no intimacy, no depth. it's like we're talking just for the sake of talking.


everytime we talk i miss what we had ( even if it was just words ) and i

read between the lines just to realise there is nothing else there.

i was once asked what i associate sex with.

control, violence, death, loss of control, power, fear, pain, revenge...

"hate" was my answer.


i despise everyone who has been inside of me. they think they can push into the deepest part of me but they're not even close. not even close to seeing how dirty and harsh i am on the inside - all they can see is what i choose to show them on the outside.

seduction is the name of my game and i play it well

maybe a little too well because when the lights go out no one can tell the difference between hate and love or lust and fear.

everytime i'm fucked i die a little more and i hate a little more intensely. it's like two different forces of nature fighting against each other because the hate is what keeps me alive. if i die then they will have won- the ones who made me hate so deeply, the ones who stripped me off all control and killed everything inside me that was ever beautiful or happy.

the hate drives me to seek revenge over and over. i use you i abuse you i control you you you but you don't realise it. the second your hand strikes my skin, the second harsh words are yelled into my face, the second you push me down, the second you lose your composure- that's when i've won.


when i die i'm dragging you down with me because if there is anything i'm sure of it's that sinners go to hell and we've been very, very

bad.

for projection ♥


desperate, cocaine-driven movements in the snow and he felt his heart beat so fast and hard he could swear it was about to beat right out of his ribcage. he couldn't feel the cold and he couldn't feel his face and nothing felt really right. one last time they had said and it wasn't like it used to be. it felt desperate and dirty in a decidedly bad way.

out of breath he rolled over in the snow and grabbed the other's hand and got a tight and warm squeeze back, but they didn't move and at first they didn't speak.

"i'm in love with you," he said suddenly and didn't wait for the other to respond. "i'm so afraid of dying and it feels like i'm about to and i don't want to have died without telling you that i'm in love with you and i'm really scared because it changes every fucking thing and-"

warm lips pressing against his and a warm body on top of his and a smile filled with the most warmth before his sight. "you're not going to die." he nudged his forehead against the other's. "and i'm in love with you too."


"can we run away together?" ruki whispers.
"yes. let's crawl under the blankets and never come back out," wataru whispers right back.
"that's hardly running, is it?" a smile.
"you're right. let's put the blankets in the other side of the apartment and run to them."

pause. laughter.

"this is why i love you."
"see? things are like they should be."

In the cold light of morning,
while everyone's yawning,
you're high
In the cold light of morning ,
you're drunk sick from whoring
and high
Staring back from the mirrors,
a face that you don't recognise...

- placebo "in the cold light of morning"

as the cold crept in under his skin and he felt that the room smelt like sex, drugs and rock'n'roll. his legs were shaking and his head was in the clouds but he was used to this and it was better than waking up with his face in the gutter.

"i hate to love you," he told the pills and the powder, the needles and the smoke as if he expected them to answer him. maybe he did too, after all they were his only friends now and it was the least friends could do, wasn't it?

blanket after blanket wrapped around his frail body didn't help in the least and he was left to his own shaking and paranoia.

he sat there until the sun started to filter in through the small openings in the blinds over his windows and he thought, "another day, another chance to turn life around."

he knew he'd never change anything but it was nice to pretend and every morning he played the same game of pretense just so he'd be able to look at himself in the mirror and say that he wasn't wasting his life away.

i prayed to a god i don't believe in. i prayed for miracles, but it didn't happen.

they say you're in a better place now, but how can i believe that when i knew you were happy being alive? there were ups and downs, but everyone has those. i know you didn't want to leave so early, too early.

and i created a facebook account (something i swore i would never do) before we knew and added you there because somewhere i hoped you'd be able to add me back sometime.

the clichés are true and you looked like you were sleeping. you were even warm, but your skin felt strange, and i could feel it getting colder under my fingers. your lips were swollen and seemed drained of all its colour.

the news papers wrote about you, short articles with headlines about how you nearly died.

they got it wrong.

there was no nearly.

there's heroin on her lips as she kisses him, there's heroin in her eyes as she looks at him, there's heroin on her hands as she touches him. there's heroin in every fiber of her body.

she's not heroin chic, she's a heroin chick.

he wants to drag it out of her, empty her like she empties the ashtray every morning, but he's already poisoined and tainted by her blood red lips and dark dark eyes, by her movements and her voice, her whispers in his ear as she moves on top of him.

she's the best and the worst to have happened to him.

he was fucked from the start but she fucked him a little more and drove him to the point of no return and even if he could go back he knows he wouldn't.

it's a bittersweet nightmare and he digs himself deeper into it until he's got blood on his hands and screams in his head.

a miserable existence drags on because despite what they say he's worse off without her. he tries to find someone to replace her but she was one of a kind, like an antique and precious doll that was only made in one copy and then fell to pieces.

irreplacable.

they keep him locked up and watched because they know what he's thinking but when they cannot keep him there anymore he finds his fix.

and his heroin chick drags him down to where he belongs.

where he always belonged.

with her.

he kept counting the hours, the minutes, the seconds as if his life depended on it and somehow it felt like it did. after all, they said that time would heal every wound and if he kept counting there would inevitably come a time when he could say that his wounds were healed too. or so he hoped.

he drowned himself in work, in hours of singing (or was it screaming it sounded like screaming in his head) and in lyric-writing frenzies.

he ignored the worried looks and the concerned "are you alright? you're looking at little pale."

because he was a rockstar, a man, an adult, and he wasn't weak.

he'd read about how people got traumatized for life because of things like these but he was doing quite well, wasn't he?

( if he ignored the random, uncontrolled outbursts of rage, the way he flinched if someone suddenly touched him, the nightmares and sleepless nights, the alcohol and the pills, the way his friends - his fucking bandmates constantly asked questions, the way the management told him to straighten out whatever issues he was having, the way his life seemed to

just

spiral

downwards )


he was just fine

wasn't he?