A Ficcage Recycling Community

[Plot Bunny]: Black Mage Lunoa?

Mon, 08 Dec 2008 22:07:44 GMT

Title: Don't actually have one
Author: Take it away!
Fandom: FFX/VIII crossover
Warnings: Squall will probably need therapy.

I haven't written a bit of this, and won't. However, somebody might want to adopt/adapt this plot bunny. It suddenly occurred to me that FFVIII is chock-full of sorceresses, and the black mage of X is a sorceress, dagnabbit.

So what if one swapped Lulu for Rinoa?

I haven't the foggiest idea what would happen, but it certainly would change the story. Poor Squall.

On the other hand, Edea is closer to the Lulu archetype, so I suppose that would be a more logical substitution. Less creative, however.

Can anyone change Rinoa to a cynical, sharp-tongued and clueful sorceress who has no patience with mopey teenaged boys? I'm not sure if it's worth doing, but the thought occurred to me, so I thought I'd pass it on.

[Recycle] From Small Sparks Mighty Flames Do Grow [Kingdom Hearts]

Sun, 23 Nov 2008 14:13:17 GMT

Working title: From Small Sparks Mighty Flames Do Grow
Author: Scribbler (obabscribbler</lj> )
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Romance/Friendship, Fantasy, AU.
Warnings: It started out as a slash-fic, but it could easily be turned into gen or friendship.
Pairings: Originally Axel/Zexion, but again, really vague in the fic itself so you could go where you want with it.
General plotline/storyline: Never actually got as far as a plot, just a general scenario, so it's up to whoever wants it.
Author's notes: Just let me know if you want this. I'm more than happy for others to do whatever they like with it.

From Small Sparks Mighty Flames Do Grow

Zexion often sat in his study for hours, so absorbed in his work that he forgot the time. He forgot a lot of things in there, especially basic necessities like food and sleep. There used to be a door connecting the study with the castle’s massive library, but when he began his studies of the magical arts he removed it so he could just wander from room to room whenever he needed to research something. Partly this was for speed, but mostly it was because he’d walked into the door too many times while reading. When he had a new scroll or spell book he was especially forgetful of the world around him, and if he was disturbed he blinked like someone emerging from hypnotism.

When a fire roared in the grate where before there had been none, he blinked this way. Then he closed his eyes in something too long to be a blink and sighed.

“You’re gonna waste away, you know. Me too. When was the last time you put fuel over here?”

“Go away, Axel.”

“That’s right, tempt the fire spirit into your hearth to heat your big ol’ draughty rooms and then get pissy when it shows it has a mind of its own and doesn’t just arrive on command like some yappy lapdog.”

“Axel, I have no need of you at this moment -”

A tendril of flame flicked towards him, threatening a particular precious tome about soul-stealing ghosts and spiritualism. Zexion snatched it up. The tendril retreated, but chuckling that seemed designed to irritate him filled the room.

“’I have no need of you at this moment’. Yeah, right. That’s why you’re dressed in that get-up, is it?”

Zexion pulled the layers of cloth and fur tighter around himself. Admittedly, he looked ridiculous, wearing so much outdoor clothing while indoors, but there was a reason for that, and it was staring back at him from the flames. In removing the door he’d made it difficult to heat the two rooms, and leaned on what he’d learned about magic to help him. However, useful as Axel could be, he never just warmed the study and library and let Zexion get on with his work. He always wanted to talk, and was always asking questions about the most trivial things. Really, it was moist distracting. He’d told the spirit several times, but that just made him worse, and so Zexion had been forced to adopt less elegant methods of keeping warm and call on Axel less frequently.

Not that it kept Axel away. Oh no. that’d be too easy.

Zexion sighed, setting aside both books and quill. “Wood or coal?”

“You have to ask?”

“I’ll go and fill the scuttle.”

The face in the fire grinned. “Ooh baby, you know what I like.”

[Recycle] Untitled

Sun, 23 Nov 2008 10:03:43 GMT

Working title: [Recycle] I just call it Vincent!mission fic, but I don't think that works so well...
Author: variable_a (journal I use for authorship)
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII Compilation (this is pre- any of the games, by about oh thirty-five years at least)
Genre: Action, Adventure
Warnings: Language, violence, gore if you want to put it in--Turk mission fic so... Due to the time occurence nature of this fic you will have to work mainly with OCs for the supporting cast.
Pairings: I had none in mind, but if you want to throw some in go for it
Characters: Vincent, Veld
General plotline/storyline: Turks on a mission. Set at the least thirty-five years prior to the original game when Vincent was a young Turk and partnered with Veld (you might want to know a bit of Before Crisis for this just so you know who Veld is).
Author's notes: I didn't write much in the way of actual prose for this, but I did map out the main points of the plot (i.e. the mission factors). If you don't want to follow them, want to switch them up, take out this, keep that, ect, be my guest. I've got a few so I will place them under an lj-cut.

I want to start off saying I started this fic wanting to showcase Vincent as a Turk doing a Turk's work, not as a weepy emo kid crying in the corner over girls. Missions are all about being badass.

- John Metrice: A scientist working in the study of materia back in the days when materia was rare (not being mass-produced yet) and not quite understood. He discovered how to Master materia (i.e. bring it to the master level like in the original game) and ShinRa Co. approached him wanting to recruit him. He refused and fled to the growing empire of Gongaga, lending them his knowledge in an effort to bring down the hated and feared ShinRa Co. Unbeknownst to ShinRa Co., Metrice has actually discovered the way to mass-produce materia and is instructing the Gongaga forces in the building of reactors for just this (I was thinking his way would kind of be like how the Big Materia are made in the original game, which is far less refined than the way they're made in Crisis Core).

- Mayor Dalt Brunning: Mayor of Gongaga, voted into office a handful of years prior to the time of the fic, he built Gongaga up from a poverty town at the consequence of her neighbors (who had formerly been taking advantage of Gongaga themselves by cutting off trade routes unless Gongaga sold its harvest at less than market value). Not satisfied with merely increasing the economic state of Gongaga, he built of a military and took over the neighboring towns. In true dictator fashion he pressed the able bodied and useful of those towns into service as well and began reaching ever outward to control more towns. Basically he is building his own empire though he's still only officially the Mayor of Gongaga. He is deeply opposed to ShinRa Co. whose SOLDIER forces (just normal elite SOLDIERS as this is before the discovery of JENOVA; they're just really well-trained and equipped, far better than anyone else's troops certainly) have been stamping out warring country after warring country, bringing peace and forcibly indebting everyone to ShinRa. ShinRa Co. poses the biggest threat to his budding empire and he's seeking an edge over the company.

- The Mission: Veld and Vincent are sent to retrieve Metrice who is taking refuge in Gongaga. While they're there assassinating Brunning and reconnaisance for any technology Metrice might have put in Gongaga's hands are other objectives on the agenda, though the main one is retrieving Metrice.

- Extra: I intended to have sporadic flashbacks to Vincent's past to sort of illustrate how he got into the Turks, his strained relationship with his father Dr. Grimoire Valentine and just his somewhat lonely, cut-off upbringing as a kid in ShinRa Co. whose sole parent (I didn't retcon him a mother, but if you want to go for it!) is a workaholic and probably leaves him sitting outside the lab door all day waiting to go on an outting for ice cream that never happens. (This explains the beginning of the bit I did write) If you'd rather keep it a straight up Turk!mission fic, by all means do.

A/N: Cleo is the secretarial Turk who hands out mission assignments I made up for this (if you don't like him you can cut him out certainly).

The first time he killed he dropped the gun afterwards. Veld picked it up and placed it back in his trembling fingers. "Don't drop your weapon next time," the older boy said. He didn't drop his gun next time.

******

"Valentine! Get your head out of your ass! I'm talking to you!" Vincent looked away from the window with uncaring eyes. Cleo took the cigarette from his lips and threw it in the wastebasket. "That's going to start a fire," Vincent observed. "You can put it out with your face then," Cleo snapped, frustration dripping from every inch of his body, despite the dressy business suit the man wore. "No smoking in the office!"

"The President smokes in the office," Vincent pointed out, leaning back against a desk. "He's the President. He's allowed to break the rules. Stop being purposely obtuse," Veld said calmly next to him. They were partners. A Turk's partner was his best friend. Closer than siblings. Veld and Vincent got along so poorly it was a wonder either ever came back from missions. But they did. And they always succeeded.

Vincent feigned disinterest and didn't deign to answer Veld's comment. Cleo sighed. He handed the pair two folders, one for each. In the past they'd proven to have a problem with sharing mission papers. Making two copies of everything just simplified matters. "John Metrice is the foremost leading scientist on materia, particularly its combat uses. He was offered a position in the Science Department. He refused."

Cleo paused to make sure the pair were paying attention. Veld was attentive, soaking in every word. Vincent stared out the window in a daze of boredom. Well, at least Valentine's eyes were still open instead of closed in sleep. "Instead Metrice fled to the country of Gongaga. He's now working for Mayor Brunning," Cleo continued with a mental sigh. Briefing these two was always a chore. "Brunning has a sizable standing army. With Metrice's knowledge of materia, he'll pose a serious a threat to ShinRa."

"This sounds like a job for PR," Vincent murmured, still gazing out the window. "Brunning's not going to be appeased by a 'peace' campaign, Valentine," Cleo snapped. "Not after that last one ended with Maria Munetch being assassinated in the middle of the parade."

"Though technically the assassin's were her own people, Cleo's right. If the campaign could even get Brunning to consider peace in the first place," Veld demurred. Vincent shrugged. "So assassinate him," the young Turk uncaringly suggested.

"Ah, I see your intelligence is actually kicking in for once Valentine," Cleo announced scathingly. "That's precisely where you come in."

Vincent lolled his head to look at Cleo. "Do I look like a SOLDIER to you?" He asked in a drowsy voice. "No, you look like a Turk in need of a paycut," Veld suggested helpfully. Vincent went back to staring out the window. Cleo resisted the urge to massage his temples and perhaps prevent the headache that was beginning. This always happened. Vincent was hard enough to get to take a matter seriously. Always had to say some dumb comments trying to fob off the work first. Veld had a cutting reply every time. As soon as Veld said the slightest thing, Vincent was off again. Not paying attention, asking when he could leave, staring into space.

"You have several objectives for this mission," Cleo said with forced patience. "One is to assassinate Brunning. The second is to retrieve Metrice. The third is reconnaissance--find out how far along Gongaga is in outfitting their army with materia, where the materia's coming from and make sure they're holding no other secret weapons to send against ShinRa."

"Of course," Veld said. Vincent didn't respond at all. Cleo dismissed them both and swallowed two tylenol before calling in the next pair of Turks he had to brief.

If someone would like to pick this up that would be really lovely because it's been sitting in my journal for something over a year now and yet I think it's an interesting idea ~~there needs to be more Turk!mission fic in the world~~.

[Recycle] plot bunny

Fri, 07 Nov 2008 23:18:24 GMT

Working title:None
Author:...you?
Fandom:Harry Potter
Genre: Romance, H/C, umm whatever else you think needs to go here
Warnings: abuse, angst, Yaoi, M/M
Pairings: Severus/Harry or Draco/Harry
General plotline/storyline: Snape catches harry in Myrtle's bathroom three days before the end of the year trying to make a large batch of all purpose healing potion...
Author's notes: I want this to be a 'Snape saves Harry' fic. I dont really care how you pull it off. But I would really like to see all the finished products!

"Mr. Potter, what is the meaning of this"
Harry jumped and lost his sweaty grip on the vial of liquid he had been measuring into the small beat up cauldron placed over the top of an empty toilet. the contents of the vial fell strait into the unfinished potion and began to bubble violently. Snape barely had time to jerk harry back and slam the stall door before the potion erupted.
"NO!" Harry shouted, scrambling toward the ruined potion. "No, I dont have time..." the potions master watched with a raised eyebrow as Harry's shoulders began to shake and...was he hyperventilating?
"Potter, Potter." he showed no response to his name. Snape stepped forward, tilted Harry's head back and emptied a calming draft down his throat. He waited for it to take effect before starting his interrogation.
"Now, mr. Potter, just what were you attempting to brew *here*" he put an emphases on 'here' to show his distaste for the girls toilet.

[Recycle] Untitled Fic

Sat, 12 Jan 2008 08:08:13 GMT

I'm new here in this community, so yeah. If I did something wrong, please let me know sooner to later :)

Working title: Unititled Fic
Author: eriea
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Genre: Romance, Angst, the like.
Warnings: shounen-ai, maybe leaning towards yaoi, but nothing pass boys making out (at least for now).
Pairings: Yanagi/Kirihara.
General plotline/storyline: Exploring the relationship between Yanagi and Kirihara, from the beginning of their "senpai-kouhai" relationship, to friendship, to something more. How everything changed, and why it changed.
Author's notes: At the beginning of the story, it's going to be stated that Yanagi doesn't know the exact when, how, and why of their relationship. Afterward comes the series of snippets that explores his whole relationship to Kirihara, through his eyes.

There are five parts for now, and I was planning to expand them, go further into their relationship with the small snippets, but the muse died right before I could continue further.

Part 1:

If someone asked him, Yanagi, for the first time in his life, would not be able to answer the questions when, how, and why.

He might say that it started with the little tutoring or the extra swing practices after school that he helped Kirihara in. Maybe he'd say that it was all due to the fact that they were boys. There was unresolved tension and piqued curiosity hanging about that couldn't be helped, especially when the other person was dripping sweat all over the tennis court because of a match, or his lips were curled into an unequivocally adorable pout that made his lips too full and irresistible whenever there was an English word he didn't get. But no matter the reason, there was always that one missing jigsaw puzzle that Yanagi would never reach.

So he remained silent when someone asked.

---

Part 2:

When it actually started exactly was a mystery to all, even to the two of them. If Yanagi allowed himself to guess, then he would say that it was probably around the very first time Kirihara and Yukimura were called to the faculty's office. Yukimura easily persuaded the teachers not to drop Kirihara out of the tennis club just because of his failing English grades and promised to get him a competent tutor to be able to help him. Yanagi was chosen, obviously, and had been Kirihara's tutor ever since. He could have declined. He could have said that Jackal or Yagyuu, or even Niou, was better than he was, but he accepted without as much as a blink of an eye. Back then, he was still a little juvenile. He wanted to win the Nationals as badly as Yukimura and Sanada, so he helped the poor boy raise his grade. He was the jewel in Yukimura's crown and the latter could not afford any losses under any circumstances.

He would always come to Kirihara's house every Sunday afternoon, at half-past three, for a one-and-a-half-hour session of English tutoring. He would accept tea from Kirihara's mother and the blueberry muffins baked by Kirihara's sister (a sweet girl that Kirihara somehow despised a lot). Sometimes, tutoring was forgotten and he played tennis with Kirihara, even when it was late and dark. He never said anything, never complained when Kirihara suddenly decided to run away in the middle of a problem to grab his racket. Never said much when Kirihara asked him for a tennis match, just grabbed one of Kirihara's spare and ran behind him to a nearby tennis court, and played for hours.

More time with Kirihara came and went, just like the test scores that were of little importance to him but showed improvement and pride in Yanagi's eyes. After the assurance that Kirihara was still on the team, Yanagi was permitted to let go of his responsibility. However, Yanagi never stopped teaching him. Yukimura never said anything, just smiled at him, so he assumed that there was nothing wrong. He probably thought before that it was an extremely good idea to keep Kirihara well aware of English. He would continue to learn, then, and they won't have a problem regarding his grades.

It was the same since then. Yanagi help him with this, Yanagi teach him that, Yanagi do those… They were childish commands, where Kirihara would demand the attention of Yanagi to get him to come to his house and aide him with his studies, or ask for supervision whenever he felt like he needed more practice. He got so used to Yanagi's presence. Yanagi would never agree, but he would never decline either, so Kirihara always expected him to show, and Yanagi always did.

--

Part 3:

At school, there was nothing more than a teammate relationship, not even friends. Senpai-kouhai, maybe, but it was a more appropriate term to be awarded to Jackal, who had so diligently watched over Kirihara at every waking moment, just to make sure that the boy never stepped out of bounds. Yanagi rarely did that. Most of the time, he would ignore Kirihara crazy antics on and off the court. Maybe he'd reprimand him over a mistake or two, but most of the time, Sanada did all the honors. He would look away from the red eyes as he crushed his opponents during a practice game. Sometimes, he would glue his eyes on him, just to gather data, but he would look away again, because nothing was scarier than a fourteen-year-old boy bent upon murdering other teenagers.

Most of the time, Kirihara would just pass by him, in the hallways, in the cafeteria, in the school grounds, in the clubroom. Sometimes, he would nod, and there were times when he might flick him a casual greeting before walking away towards his friends. There are a few remembered moments where they talked, but that would only be because of tennis, English, or a request from Kirihara to pull Niou and Marui off his back (which, unfortunately, Yanagi never did, assuming that Kirihara could take care of himself). Maybe a casual mention of an everyday routine, but they lived totally different lives that there was practically nothing to talk about between them.

So how come, at one day in the library, when Yanagi really needed to finish an essay for his English Writing class, Kirihara suddenly sat down in front of him and started ranting about stupid girls that stalked him and Niou's pranks and how much he hated Sanada, did Yanagi stopped writing and just listened to him? Even he had no idea why. Then again, Kirihara's mere presence in a place that could have disrupted his 'reputation' was more than enough for Yanagi to question the sanity in the world. And they talked like normal friends. Which was rare, and did somehow unnerved Yanagi, though it didn't show. He tried to point out the hints to Kirihara, but he needed no further data analyzing to know that Kirihara didn't understand any underlying meanings in his sentences. Kirihara was a genius on and off the court, yes; he just had a very lousy memory, forgetting to use his own brain.

Half an hour later, the school bell rang, and they walked off to their next classes. Yanagi, being the kind senpai he was, accompanied Kirihara to the junior hallways. Kirihara still talked then, and Yanagi answered him in all the right moments. It was actually pleasant talking to someone outside of you comfort zone, and Kirihara was a nice person to talk to. After a wave of goodbye to his kouhai (where a lot of the other juniors gapped, because Kirihara had many senpai-tachi who loved accompanying him to class), he walked off towards his own classroom. He was late for two-point-twenty-seven seconds, but no one, not even the teacher, seemed to notice.

--

Part 4:

The moment Yanagi was well aware of Kirihara's more-than-friendly feelings for him, he didn't push away. In fact, he stayed closer to him, much closer, with clearly degrades all his thoughts of telling that young boy that there was no chance of then getting together because Yanagi wasn't like that. Which, of course, had been proven otherwise by the sudden stiffness between his legs if Kirihara passed by, the constant daydreaming of his muscular body, and sometimes, the wet sheets that he would find underneath him when he wakes up in the morning, due to heavy dreams of a certain second-year that he couldn't get off his mind.

He was still kept those embarrassing secrets to himself, though. Because, seriously, the label of being homosexual wasn't the most appealing, and most of the people in their school weren't the most accepting either, even if there was a law that prevented discrimination against the third sex (or something like that). He never complained on how he and Kirihara were merely dancing around each other in circles, but his temper had been tested more than enough times by Yukimura, who was as perceptive in real as he was in the tennis courts. Both knew how much Kirihara had grown to adore his senpai, and even Sanada can see that only Yanagi (and Yukimura) can appease Kirihara's impish behavior—not even Jackal could come close to that.

--

Part 5:

The first kiss together had been rough. If Yanagi had another choice of word, he would chose 'suicidal'. Yanagi almost tore off the younger boy's teeth by banging his own jaw into it, and Kirihara would have pulled out part of the skin on his neck if he didn't pull away instantly. Obviously, he was surprised, and his first reflex was to jerk Yanagi's neck out of his own Yanagi. The latter had expected this, because according to data, even in the more intimate of moments, Kirihara was never calm, always the fighter.

Kirihara was frozen for about a minute before he opened his mouth willingly, forcing his tongue around Yanagi, and battling with him for domination. His lips on Yanagi was like fire, burning and scorching the pink flesh of his lips with his harsh bites and nibbles that all Yanagi could do was groan in his mouth. Kirihara groaned, too, pushing himself to Yanagi, creating friction between their clothed bodies. Thoughts kept on slipping away, second by second, when Kirihara's hands actually went underneath his shirt and rubbed his hands along the skin, scorching his skin with only the

They stayed like that for what felt like hours until Yanagi stopped. He pulled away because he felt them, all of them—the hardness in Kirihara's shorts, his own erection brushing along his thigh, a scrambles of hands trying so desperately to rip his shirt open, the lust-filled eyes, the more-than-passionate kisses that almost engulfed his whole mind and made him lose control. He knew very well what Kirihara wanted – he wanted it, too, just as badly – but he pulled back.

And he didn't know what to say after he stopped such a good make-out session. That's was he just walked away with a polite apology and farewell, leaving Kirihara to form the conclusion in his somewhat dense head that he didn't want it at all.

--

I wish luck the to person who wants to claim this! If ever, please give me an update.

[Recycle] Untitled Plotbunny

Sat, 06 Oct 2007 18:15:26 GMT

New to this community, so we'll see if I'm doing it right. This really is a brilliant community idea.

Working title: Untitled
Author: hikarineko
Fandom: D.Gray-man/Rurouni Kenshin crossover
Genre: action/adventure, gen, possibly some minor angst, I have no idea.
Warnings: violence? That’s the only thing I can think of…
Pairings: Kenshin/Kaoru… don’t really know other than that. It was leaning more towards a gen/action fic than anything so I was going for keeping canon pairings for Kenshin and not much for D.Gray-man since there are no official canon pairings yet in D.Gray, hinting aside.
General plotline/storyline: So I realized that the end of the Meiji Restoration took place in roughly 1869, and that Kenshin itself ends in roughly 1878-79. Given that D.Gray-man is said only to be set in a fictional end of the 19th century, and that according to D.Gray-man canon, Japan has been pretty much destroyed due to the Earl’s manipulations, I was curious as to what would have happened to the characters from Kenshin in such a situation. So, we have a semi-post-apocalyptic Kenshin fanfic with added in elements and characters from D.Gray-man. The only thing I really had set so far was that it’s set roughly 5-10 years post Kenshin canon. Cross came across Hiko at some point and warned him of what the Earl was doing in Japan. Hiko warned Kenshin, Kenshin and his companions fled Tokyo and they’ve been hiding from the Akuma hordes ever since. Other than that, they some how meet up with Aoshi, Misao, Saito and Soujiro (the only other characters from Kenshin I could think of having any chance against a level 1 Akuma) and manage to avoid all the nice level 2 and 3 Akuma who could probably destroy them anyway. Mostly this was just an excuse for Kenshin/D.Gray character interaction… because the idea of Cross meeting Hiko was just too good to pass up.
Author's notes: Really, none of this has been written. It’s a plot bunny that was too good to throw away, but that I actually had no real urge to write. Hence, why I give it up to interested parties. I was going mostly for in-character interaction in a post-apocalyptic setting (for the Kenshin characters) with the D.Gray-man cast. Obviously this involves tweaking both canons a little bit, but half the fun of the fic was to try and get the interaction with as much canon as possible. So really, anyone who’s interested can do whatever they want to with this.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So yeah, feel free to do whatever you like to this. Just give me a heads up so I can read it. ^.^b

[Recycle] A plot bunny

Fri, 28 Sep 2007 06:10:45 GMT

Got here by askerian and this community is awesome!

On the other side I have a plot bunny but I can't write if my life depended on it.

Working title:
Author:
Fandom: Naruto.
Genre: General, Humor
Warnings: Mentions of threesome.
Pairings: SakuNaruSai
General plotline/storyline: Naruto battles Konohamaru for his final test to become Hokage.
Author's notes: The basic idea I have is that Naruto decides to pass the title to Konohamaru in a battle, because that's the final test. As the battle grows, both are tired and Konohamaru just have enough chakra to defeat Naruto, so he uses Sexy no Jutsu, surprising Naruto with a threesome of Sakura, Sai and himself. He gets K.O and Konohamaru wins.

If there's anything wrong, please delete this post.

[Recycle-ish] A Few Fics

Thu, 27 Sep 2007 04:32:12 GMT

I just want to say that I think this community is ingenius :). I'm not entirely sure if I doing this right, but I guess we'll see?

Working title: The Butterfly Effect
Author: / Princess Lightina
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: Drama, Suspense, Psychological
Warnings: AR, semi-fusion with The Butterfly Effect movie (obviously). Confusing beginning on purpose.
Pairings: Currently undecided, but possibly SasuSaku or NaruSaku. Possibly even gen... Guess that's why it's undecided :-p.
General plotline/storyline: Sakura discovers she has the ability to use a unique jutsu that can alter past events.
Author's notes: I started writing this story last November... and it's still on the prologue. I guess I'm not looking to have someone recycle this fic so much as I'm looking for some help with it's direction ^_^;. I have a lot of ideas, but there's one crucial plot point that needs to be worked out before this story can progress. Needless to say, I'm stuck.

( Prologue links back to my writing journal )

If this proposistion is unacceptable I'm more than willing to delete it.

cross-posted to fanficbunnies

Actual Recycling:

Working Title: Heero and Relena's Supposed Wedding
Author:

shafted_artist / Princess Lightina
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Genre: Humor/Romance
Warnings: Accidental!Yaoi, slight shounen-ai, sex, and, if not rewritten, bad writing and OOCness.
Pairings: 1xR, 2xH, 5+S, and one-sided (or is it?) 4+3. Also... 1x6 lolz.
General plotline/storyline: Complications arise when Heero's bacholar party is a little too successful.
Author's notes: Oh. My. God. I started writing this fic back in.... 2001? I have not touched it since probably 2002, but it's one of those fics that just needs to be finished and ~~completely re-written. Eighth grade writing, whut?~~ I got about four or five chapters in and for some reason or another just never finished it, which is sad if only because I never got to write the scene that inspired the whole fic :(. As I've kinda out grown the GW fandom I fear it may never be completed in my hands, but if someone would like to "recycle" it I would love to be apart of the process :).

( Table of Contents links back to my writing journal )

Working Title: Home Away From Home
Author: shafted_artist / Princess Lightina
Fandom: Digimon
Genre: Drama, Romance
Warnings: Original characters. Possible tense changes (hasn't been updated since 2003). Incomplete.
Pairings: Takari. One-sided DaKari. Future slight Takeru x/+ OC. Slight. And OCs x OCs.
General plotline/storyline: UPTakeru finally has the chance to get the girl of his dreams, Hikari, but then unexpectedly his parents are having Yamato and him move to America for one year with their father. During his time there, T.K. meets someone who makes him feel at home.
Author's notes: It's been years since I updated this fic, but I really did like it. I made it up to seven posted chapters and a few pages into the eigth before it just... died. In the seventh chapter I introduced original characters and I think I got scared of the main OC, who happened to be a girl named Erika, turning out to be a Mary-Sue if the fic progressed. There would be slight crushes on one another, but I intended to keep Takeru faithful to Hikari and Erika finally hooking up with her childhood crush.

Again, if anyone wanted take this on I would still love to be apart of the process :). I actually had notes for a sequel, lol.

( FFN link )

And though there are LOTS more, that's all for tonight :).

shafted_artist

[Recycle] Searching

Wed, 26 Sep 2007 22:59:36 GMT

Working title: Searching
Author: artemisgoddess
Fandom: Death Note
Genre: Angst, Romance, Tragedy (?)
Warnings: Erm. Bad words, maybe BL?
Pairings: Intended Mello/Near
General plotline/storyline: A view of everything that happened to Mello in his life told in 2nd person. Only there was going to be some change or something, where Mello was going to see Near before he died I think, and it was going to be brilliant and angsty and so good, but I can't remember now ;;;
Author's notes: These are the notes I left for myself at the end of what I'd written so far:
Mello's return after fire w/ scar
Matt first introduced
Barges in on Near

So. Take it and adopt it? Make it into something more?

There are times in life when you cannot go on.

When things are just too much, the pressure's just too much to bear. When everyone around you is expecting things of you, when you're expecting things on you, but you always seem to fall short, just shy of your goal, your arm a little too short to reach.

When nothing makes you happy anymore. When your previous games with your friends of soccer and catch become meaningless, pointless, in comparison to the pain you feel. When your friends just leave you alone, figuring you'll get over it, not bothering to try to help.

When you think you're all alone, isolated, locked away in the dark corner of your mind, the darkness slicing though every single hope, every sing positive thought, leaving you with nothing, all hope decayed. When shapes loom out of the darkness at night; hallucinations, stemming from repressed desires and fears, resulting from the agony and indecision you feel within. When there's no point in living, anymore, really, as you get nothing from it anymore; you're just an empty shell, walking, waiting, wilting under the harsh sun.

And you know you can't go on. You just can't.

But you can hear your friends laughing outside in the halls, smiling and grinning as they go about their lives, and you put on a smile and go along with them, pretending their unseeing eyes don't pierce your heart. You do your best to keep up, but you can't falsify happiness with a burden like yours, and eventually, you fall behind. And they leave you there to rot.

You take to staying in your room for long periods at a time. You don black clothes, nothing extreme, with chains or eyeliner, but just enough to make you feel better, to give you a physcial sign that someone else could recognize as a cry for help. You study late into the night, wearing yourself out, making you waft through the days even more. It's all for naught, though, as you come in second place again and again, no matter how hard you try. It'll all for naught. All of it.

No one seems to realize how this eats you away inside. How your existance is meaningless, with you being number two, and how you have no point, no purpose for living, until you're number one. How you're fighting for it with your life; have fought for it, as, in truth, on the inside, you're already dead. But it's for nothing; no one looks at you, only telling you lightly to try harder, as if you're not already giving it your all. The one you want to become won't look at you, not like he looks at the other one, and the other one only looks at you with cold eyes, as if trying to freeze your efforts, his silence telling you that they are meaningless, that you will never reach his level.

You do your best, anyway. You hate being weak, you hate giving up on what you want. You keep trying, keep feeling, keep caring, even though you know it's all useless, anyway. Your friends raise their eyebrows, wondering at your change in attitude, but don't press you further on the matter. You struggle, fighting with yourself, wanting to become the best, wanting recognition, wanting anything, wanting nothing more to be seen by those above you.

You're invisible, though. Completely invisible, hidden in the night of this world of black.

One person sees you, though. One person, in a world of tons. He sees you and recognizes you, and understands where you are. He, too, is below the top, but close to it, and he, too, cannot be seen. He, however, is content with his place, having adjusted to it and having never expected to be anyone worth anything at all. His apathy astounds you, and you feel a trickle of jealousy at him, for with his apathetic shield around him, isolating him from the rest of the world, surrounded in his uncaring, he cannot be touched, and he cannot be hurt. And you envy that.

He becomes your best friend. He tries to help you, helping you review when you want to come in top on a test, proofreading your essays, going over facts with you, though he couldn't care less about his own marks. It doesn't help at all, of course, as you're still stuck in second, always in second, but at least, it shows you that someone cares, and to someone, at least, you're first in their heart.

You talk of the future with him. You discuss it endlessly, for hours. Neither of you have any idea where you're going; it's impossible, really, to know, as neither of you are number one. You still strive for that goal, that recognition, that certainty, though the other has given up. He discusses joining intellegence agencies, becoming a private hacker, or leading a criminal life, and you airly toss out options of joining the mafia, going back to Russia, or becoming dictator of the world. As he expands on his theory that he'd make a rotten mafia man, you wonder to yourself if he ever considers a future with you in it, the two of you, together, against the world. You bite your lip, though, thinking it'd be more than a little weird to ask that, to seem so dependent, so you make a sarcastic remark and proceed to tell him how he'd make a great Sicilian.

Your life gets somewhat better. You manage to accept, to a degree, your failure at your goal. You keep striving, of course, and manage to delude yourself that you'll get there in the end, when it really matters. You begin to spend more time with your friend, your only true friend, ignoring the one who always ignored you, always ignored everyone but Him, preferring his puzzles to anyone else. He, the only He, doesn't contact you or look at you, but you know He's busy, and he hasn't contact the other one either, so, for the time being, you're okay with it. Your subtle sort of existance is trying, at times, but for a while, with you and your friend, you are content.

Until you get the news.

At first, you can't believe it. It couldn't have happened. It's simply not possible. Mortality wasn't supposed to have been a concern. How could this have occurred? Your first reaction is raw and pure, venegeful and hurt, raw, stricken grief, and it comes from your core as you scream and curse.

The other one with you says nothing, merely turning his puzzle over and starting anew. A dim part of your mind realizes the sick symbolism of that action, but you're too stricken to care. He makes some generic remark about losing, and you're too astonished by his emotionless reaction to register his words.

And then it hits you.

There is no more waiting time.

There is no more time to strive.

There are no more chances to become number one.

There is nothing left to strive for.

You have failed.

And He is gone.

Meaningless words about Him not having chosen echo in your ears, and a futile suggestion of the two of you working together hangs in the air, but despite the other's affirmative reply, you know this can never be. You have failed, you have been found unworthy, and you would never truly be his equal, his partner, his friend. You cannot work like that, you cannot let yourself; you have to win, you have to become stronger, better, more than him, and your words are angry as you shout that you'll leave, that you don't care, that you'll find your own place, that you don't need any of them. They're nothing to you, nothing, and that very night, without so much as a second thought, you leave, taking your precious few belongings with you as you depart.

As you stand on the street, cold, in cotton clothes, not yet fifteen yet, you begin to wish you had thought this through.

You spend your time making a name for yourself over the next few years. You never succeeded at being one of the good guys, ridding the world of crime and whatnot, so you turn to the other end of the spectrum, determine to become a success in some respect. You immerse yourself in crime and cunning, in organized plans and tactical pursuits in the worst ways. With no one to watch you, to criticize who you are, you indulge in your darker side, wearing leather, tight clothes, boots, chains, and crosses. The dark image with the religious overtones intimidates people, and you get a thrill from being seen for once.

You work your way to the American Mafia. The capitalistic trait continues even to the underworld, and you soon rise to the top. Commanding the entire organization, your age still far too young than the norm for such a job, you decide on your first target, your first goal. It's instinctual to you, impulsive, though logical, and it's only later, after you've failed, that you realize why you did it in the first place: that you were still striving to be number one.
Your plan fails, as have all your previous efforts, and you run, unable to redeem yourself from these ruins, looking to start afresh.

Wed, 30 Aug 2006 01:42:11 GMT

I need help on re-starting this fic. I have 40 people watching it, and I feel bad. Anyone willing to help?

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2851917/1/

Title: Those Eyes
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: NaruSasu, in later chapters
Rating: PG-13 to R. I'm bad with ratings.
Quick Summary: I was bad and wrote a quasi-amnesia fic. Naruto, as a new self, meets Sasuke and is instantly drawn to him, and wants to know why, and Sasuke becomes something close to an obsession for him. The fic flies from there.

Thanks, guys.

Update!

Wed, 23 Aug 2006 20:36:41 GMT

I just want to let everyone know that I, azamaria_chan, will be posting under yellow_spatula from now on.

Another thing, we really need to get this ball rolling, eh? I'll be posting something new soon, but if anyone else has any recyling or reusing to post... ;)

Let me know if you have any questions or ideas!

Thu, 29 Jun 2006 03:22:09 GMT

[recycle]
Working title: Can't think one up that suits.
Author: </em>saiseki_san
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: AU, slight twisty-thingies added in such as advanced medication and gifts. And almost every baddie is working for Orochimaru because he's cool like that. :3
Warnings: Not for this chapter. :3 Besides a slightly insane stepmother, none at all.
Pairings: GaaHina, NejiTen/Tema.
General plotline/storyline: Gaara, Temari and Kankurou are gifted agents working for Orochimaru. Ages ago, the Hyuugas borrowed a large sum of money and forgot to pay--after migrating to Canada in hopes of escaping his clutches (because the Hyuugas are greedy hoes, yo :p), the sand siblings are sent to assassinate two of the younger members(in hopes of scaring them into paying): Hyuuga Neji and Hyuuga Hinata. They go to school like everyday teens, and would eventually get closer to the targets so they could poison their drinks, or something that will result in two dead Hyuugas.
Author's notes: This would probably end up being all angsty near the end because Tema could get to be real close buddies with Tenten and she could lurve Neji or we could do a Nejitema pairing here, and she'd have to kill him. Same goes with Gaara and Hinata. Total crack pair, but I love it ♥. But for anything else? Go right ahead~~ you'll understand better if you read the first chapter. First post at any comm. aswell! :D

Silence was almost all that could be heard throughout the fifth floor in the Hyuuga mansion, not even the subconscious stirring of its sleeping residents. The silence was so extreme, you could hear it ringing in your ears, you’d flinch at the slight yet seemingly obnoxious ticking of the clock (which was the only noise) and feel as if the fast beating of your heart would wake up all of the sleeping family who lay in the beds behind the tall white doors of their bedrooms. Yes, it certainly was quiet, for everyone, even the multiple servants who held multiple jobs at the Manor, were asleep as it was in fact 4:30 in the morning, according to the unreliable clocks that always seemed to be a different time from the one in the next room. Now! There was the slightest creak of the floor, and the door of one of the many rooms was slid open, and a sleepy, pale lavender eye peered out the crack the owner of the eye had created. A girl then pushed the door open to its full extent, her pale skin seeming to glow rather eerily in the lightless environment, and her short hair swayed in sync to her slow movements. Her small socked feet walked across the carpet, and down the corridor, towards a certain destination: the bathroom. She then slid open this door, and flicked a switch. Light flooded the small room, spilling into the hallway, and she lifted her small hand to shield her narrowed and unadjusted eyes from the blinding light. Pausing for her eyes to adjust to the new light, she then headed inside the room, turning around and pushing the door shut with her forearms as her lavender eyes flickered around the empty space just outside the door, as if searching for a non-existent enemy that could attack her at any time. But, that was just Hinata, the quietest and most timid female of the Hyuuga household. There wasn’t a sound from the room for a moment, then there was the loud roaring of a flushed toilet, and the slight trickle of running water. The door was once again opened, the click of the doorknob lost in the gentle shh of the toilet, and Hinata stepped out, flicking the light off, letting darkness engulf her and her surroundings once again. Blinking several times before her eyes readjusted to the darkness that recently re-surrounded her, she headed back towards her room, the floor occasionally creaking beneath her slight weight. The bedroom door was shut behind the girl slowly without a single sound, as if not to disturb anyone any further. The tiniest creaking of her bed was heard, and then no more was heard from the female that night.

---

The neon green letters of the boy’s alarm clock switched from the 5:59 it had been for a minute before, and switched to 6:00, setting off the alarm. A quiet but annoying buzzer then started as if to say, ‘Get your butt in gear! It’s the start of a new day’! A hand reached out from the folds of a faded indigo blanket, then curling into a fist as it slammed into the oversized ‘snooze’ button of the alarm clock therefore silencing the irritating buzzer at once. The owner of this particular hand then sat up, with a creak from the bed beneath him, but without a groan that was typically heard from people his age when getting up for the troublesome school all young adults, teenagers, pre-teens and children had to face from Monday to Friday. He brushed away the old rag of a blanket away from his body, and swung his legs over the side of his sleeping place, a high pitched squeak causing him to wince slightly. The hand that was once a fist was lifted to his face and it rubbed the sleep out of his closed eyes as he stood and headed towards the small closet that was attached to his bedroom wall. His lavender eyes were directed towards the ground, which was a fluffy grey-blue carpet, as he walked towards the closet door and turned the golden knob, pulling open the closet door with the slightest creak of the door hinges. As he peered inside, he narrowed his eyes and flicked the pale irises from each article of clothing, searching for something comfortable to wear.

---

Hinata scurried down the many flights of stairs, occasionally stumbling and almost falling. The pa, pa, pa of her feet hitting the ground seemed to echo through the stairwell almost as well as the huff of her hurried breaths. Today she was dressed in her usual attire, the hooded light purple jacket with the fluffy fake fur lining, and the regular black floods. In her small thin arms was cradled a royal purple book bag, that was completely overstuffed with homework, pencils, high school text books and the like. Even though the well-made bag didn’t look very heavy, it was definitely ten pounds at the least. Her arms were starting to tire from carrying it like she did, but it was for the best due to the fact that she took the bus, and slipping her arms into the straps would be rather pointless if she was just going to sip it off and onto the floor of the vehicle as she sat down, now wouldn’t it?

Her socked feet touched down with the ground floor, and only then did she slow her pace to a brisk walk. The carpet left small not very detailed dark blue imprints of her feet leading towards the tall white door, which was left slightly ajar. The white walls were flowing rather snailishly past as she walked with a slight frown upon her lips. Hopefully Neji-niisan won’t be angry with me for making him wait, she thought to herself as a tiny fragment of her lip was slid inside her mouth and chewed on, purely out of nervous habit. She put her arms in front of herself rather protectively, as if to build a wall between herself and the other citizens of the world, as she entered the obscenely large living room, and spotted her cousin, Neji, sitting on the white couch with his eyes shut, leaned with his back against the couch lazily, arms crossed. Hinata’s lavender eyes did a quick scan of the room, taking in the pure snow white of the room. It always made her feel as if she’d walked into a snow scene off of a Christmas card, with the white carpet glistening slightly under the circular lamp that hung from the ceiling, and the plush white furniture. The only thing that wasn’t white was the television, which stood taller than she did, and wider than the oversized couch placed in front of it.
“Sorry I was late getting down, Neji-niisan,” she said quietly, looking down in shame.

Her cousin’s eyes opened, as he lifted his wrist towards his face to see the crystal face of the silver watch he wore. “Hinata-sama, it’s only seven.”

The younger girl nodded, and looked up at her older cousin, a faint pink glow of embarrassment radiating from her pale face.

---

The bus reflected the rising sun’s light into the pale lavender eyes of the two Hyuugas, as they stepped into the old, rusting, and foul smelling bus from the crisp, fresh winter day outside. It was actually a good day in the usually harsh and extreme Canadian winter, as the sun was shining pleasantly; there wasn’t even a breath of the cold bitter wind that usually dominated the outside world, and besides, the air wasn’t even that cold. In fact, it was actually sort of humid in a sort of strange way. You could clearly tell spring was coming early this year. The eldest stepped onto the bus, metal clanking beneath his blue shoes, and headed towards his usual window seat, whilst Hinata took up residence across from him, her eyes pointed towards the window. Both observed different sides of the buses’ setting roll part as if gained speed, and flew down the road at a speed that was obviously far above the speed limit.

---

“Please, fasten your seat beats,” said the high-pitched female voice over the intercom of the plane. “We are about to land.”

The voice then went to repeat herself in several languages after the English, including Japanese. After all, they were coming from Tokyo, Japan. The clatter of conversation in both English and Japanese quieted, and the sound of the metal buckles being slid closed filled the air from various directions. Only ten minutes afterwards, the enormous Japanese jumbo jet began its descent.

Three teens entered the lobby at the Canadian airport, the eldest of the three lifting her hand to her forehead and scanning the not-so-crowded seating area for a woman that they had seen only in photos beforehand. The girl’s hair was strawberry blonde (not to mention stiff), and kept in two ponytails at the top of her head, but also the remainder of the hair was bound into ponytails just behind her earlobe. On her right stood a boy anyone could tell was younger than her. His hair was a deep crimson red, and he had relatively pale skin. Dark circles, which were often mistaken for thick eyeliner, encircled his pale turquoise eyes as they scanned the crowd.

“Jeeze, where is she?” said the last, in Japanese and an annoyed tone. Anyone could see that he was uncomfortable in the ordinary everyday clothing he wore, also, on another note, his hair was a soft brown, and his face was covered in purple face paint, causing some passersby to do a double take at the Japanese trio.

“How are we supposed to know, Kankuro?” said the girl, as she glanced back at the other, and then continuing her visual search. With a defeated sigh, she reached into a backpack she had shouldered beforehand, and retrieved a photo from within. After a quick glance at the photo, she quickly pointed at the entrance to the lobby, beaming. “There!”

In the entranceway stood a woman with long brown hair tossed over a slender shoulder, a light application of soft pink lipstick, and she wore nothing too notable, just a plain dress of a soft pink hue.

“That’s her?” Kankuro said, glancing at his sibling. “Are you sure, Temari? She looks harmless in person.”

She nodded, and looked at the photo clenched in her hand, which portrayed a woman with messy brown hair and deep plum colored bags beneath her bloodshot eyes, which held an evil look. Ruby red lips held a faint trace of what may have been a smirk, or an insane smile; no one could really tell.

The woman noticed the trio, and smiled warmly, eyes forced shut as she waved to the foreign teenagers. With Temari leading the way, and brothers trailing behind, they approached the woman who was to be their adoptive mother, Caroline Fisher.

---Flashback---

“So,” Temari said, as she looked over several piece of paper. “Kabuto-sama… The Hyuugas… They are our targets..?”

Kabuto, the youth with more silver hair than many much, much older men had, pushed up his glasses in his signature way, light from a table lamp reflecting off of them in an eerie fashion. “Only two of them are your targets. Hyuuga Neji and Hyuuga Hinata. Orochi-san doesn’t care how you are to do it, but he wants them dead. But,” he said, smirking in an evil, superior sort of way. “Do it so that no one suspects it was you. There’s my advice.”

“Soooo? Temari?” said Kankuro, poking her shoulder only to irritate her. “What did Orochi say?”

The blonde girl was in the midst of packing a few different outfits into a leather suitcase, which was laid out on a twin bed in an airy hotel room. The blanket was of a fine cloth, and had an ash pattern of circles and squares, which was tastefully designed. This bed was against a pure white wall that reminded the girl of freshly fallen snow that wasn’t yet tainted by a traveler’s heavy and weary footprints. There was a light yet murky mauve trim connecting the fluffy, thick, high quality ash grey carpeting, which left an imperfect impression of your foot when you walked soundlessly upon its soft, plush surface to the clean, white wall. Nearing the foot of the bed was a rather large window, which was thrown open in order to allow the cool crisp breeze entrance to the cramped hotel room. Placed a few feet away from the first bed, was another that was completely identical to Temari’s (this one was more for decoration than anything else, and where Kankuro now sat upon with his legs crossed), and then the same length away from that was yet another bed, and like the others, dressed with the same pattern of circles and squares on the comforter. The red head stood with his back leaned against the wall between the two beds, his arms crossed and a blank, uncaring expression on his young face. Temari sighed, and slammed the suitcase closed, reaching a tanned hand over towards one side of the suitcase, and zipping it shut with a loud ziiiiiiiip.

“Orochi didn’t talk to me this time,” she said as her long fingered hands fumbled with the buckles on the suitcase as she attempted to do up the brass buckle. “It was Kabuto. You know, his right hand man? Well, apparently-” here, she removed a piece of crumbled paper soundlessly from the pocket in her jeans and showed the paper so that it faced up. The paper was, in fact, a Hyuuga family photo with two bright red circles around two faces- “we’re only going to remove of two people. Something about debts being left unpaid, and a warning for them to hurry up and pay up. Hyuuga Neji and Hyuuga Hinata… I suppose that we were assigned this mission because they’re the same age as us... But we also got to do it sneaky. Nothing that will let them know it was us. I thought that maybe we could pretend to be their friends, and then poison their drink when we go over to their house or something, you know?”

Kankuro blinked. “Er, sounds workable.”

She nodded, and gripped the handle of the suitcase as she hoisted it off of the soft bed, and lugged without any trouble towards the door. Placing it beside the other two suitcases, she brushed the hands together, bangs bouncing and swaying with her larger movements. “Yeah. He also let me know that these two, along with the entire clan, are kind of special, like us… They have the Byakugan, which allows them to see the inner chakra coils and fight to their advantage with that, along with zooming in to see things at great distances, and see through objects.”

“I see,” Kankuro replied. Great, he thought to himself bitterly. “So we can’t go about just randomly attacking them… Everyone can use some chakra, but they also have advanced control… Hmm. Yeah, we’re going to have to go with the sneaky killing theory you cooked up, Temari. Poison or something like that.”

“Yeah,” Temari said, sitting on her bed with the tiniest squeak of the mattress, nodding her head in agreement. “But, apparently, they’re unable to activate it just yet. We’d just have to worry about the parents and such.”

“Oh?” Kankuro said, one brown eyebrow lifted in interest. “So do they all live in the same building, then?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” the blonde-haired girl said, yawning slightly and reaching up a long-fingered hand to her mouth in response. “Kabuto didn’t know anything else, apparently. Oh well, if we do this we’ll be free from Orochimaru’s clutches forever… But really, Kankuro! Hurry up and pack already; Gaara and I are already completely finished, and you haven’t even started!”

[Reduce] Highway 66

Mon, 12 Jun 2006 15:09:40 GMT

Hey, saw the post about reducing, and I really couldn't help myself, even though it hasn't been voted on yet. I hope this drabble's OK. I wrote the original under a different name back in 2000.

I have been on hiatus since 2001, and am just starting to ease myself back into writing fanfic/fic. Because, damnit--I miss writing.

Title: Highway 66
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Warnings: Deathfic, post EW
Original word count: 823
New word count: 100

I'm dead. My vital signs disagree, but don't be fooled.

He was driving a little too recklessly, too fast. The horizon dared us to reach it before dawn, and we were going to make it with time to spare. Hell, if an army of soldiers and a self-destructing gundam couldn't kill him, what was a little black ice? We disregarded the danger, but when we hit, everything spun out then came to a crashing halt.

A steering wheel in his chest, he bled out beside me as we waited. No one came.

And me? I walked away without a scratch.

It's..."reducing" time! winks

Sun, 28 May 2006 07:00:47 GMT

Why hello all you 46 members of bigbluebox! I'm glad to see there's some interest in this community and I hope the ball gets rolling soon. Don't hesistate to post any "recycling" or "reusage"!

Now that there's a significant number of members, I'd like to see what the concensus would be regarding the infamous "reduce" part of bigbluebox. As you all probably know by now, I'm uncertain as to what I should do...And I'd love some feedback. So, I'm going to let you guys know what some other people have suggested to me and see what you think!

Here goes. I really like the theme "Reducing the amount of unfinished fanfiction" which was suggested to me by nishasha, but what we do with "reduce" is still up in the air. Some ideas suggested to me below.

Shrink and rewrite an already existing fic and set a word limit.

Taking someone else's story idea and writing a drabble from it, since it's physically reducing the word count, while completing the concept.

Writing for a theme that deals with "reducing" something.

A fic exchange! Switching an unfinished fic with another lj user to finish the rest.

Reduction factor of the workload, as quoted by admiral_yen below.

Reducing the amount of badfics! Taking an incredibly awful piece of fanfiction and making it into something better on the eyes. (If this is legal of course, which I'm not sure is...)

*Thanks to experienced, cindelius, nishasha, anonymous and everyone else for your lovely ideas! ♥

Anyways, if you have any more ideas, let me know! I think a vote will be the deciding factor...what do you guys think? :)

EDIT: Just to let you know, it's perfectly fine to post any "reduce" fics. I think I'm going to let "reduce" fics be any of the above, or just any type of fiction with the idea of "reducing" in mind. Also, I'm thinking of having monthly community challenges that deals with one of the three themes...but that will probably get started around the end of the month. (June)

Thanks! And hope everyone is enjoying the comm! ♥

-Le Mod

Oh yes, and I'll all for advertising this community anywhere and everywhere. (And if any of you other mods would like to affliate, let me know!) I'd like to see some other exciting fandoms as well. Not that I don't love Naruto... ;)

Fri, 26 May 2006 03:12:03 GMT

Subject: [Reuse] Life Preserver
Title: Life Preserver
Author: uchihanaruto
Fandom: Naruto
Warnings: Angst, Darkfic, character death.

Life Preserver

He doesn't bother counting the days since Naruto last visited his cell, breathing life into it, bringing light. Sometimes, the lack of oxygen is so overwhelming that he wonders if he's actually in his coffin, wasting away like a piece of art being thrown into a fire. It would make sense, after all. He hadn't had a bath or a breadcrumb in, perhaps, weeks, months, years – he can't be bothered to remember, anyway, because it all blurs together now like the blue of Naruto's eyes and the sky and how they both seemed to fade to shades of grey as the years passed.

He wonders if dying is supposed to feel like this. He wonders if the sky has finally, finally turned to black. He wonders why playing back regrets through his head is a greater life preserver than bread.

He wonders, how could have Naruto ever thought of him as a friend, and smiles.

- - -

The last time Naruto visited him, he had pretended to be asleep.

He always does.

He knows that Naruto will not step out of the shadows until he thinks his former teammate can’t see him. Whether Naruto wants to avoid an awkward situation, or for some other unknown reason, he doesn’t know, and would probably never know, since they had not spoken to each other since he was brought back to Konoha.

The blonde would just sit in front of the bars of the cell, staring at him with those big blue eyes. Even with his eyes shut, he can sense the intensity of Naruto’s gaze.

Shortly before dawn - before the guards bring his food, Naruto would slip out like a ghost. Only then does he open his eyes and wonder, yet again, as he does every time after the boy’s visits, just what exactly Naruto had come for.

- - -

Another day.

He listens to the two guards laughing as they make their way to his cell with his morning meal. They hate him, but all the emotion he can muster for them is a halfhearted scornfulness.

“Good day, traitor.”

He ignores them.

“We have miso soup for you today. Hope you like it.”

The door opens slightly and a wooden bowl is shoved carelessly into the cell. It tips over and all the soup splashes out onto the floor.

He stares dispassionately at the puddle of liquid and the upturned bowl.

“Oops. Too bad, traitor. No soup for you today.”

As their laughter and footsteps fade into the distance, he thinks that maybe he does hate them a little too.

- - -

“Tsunade-babachan! Please!”

“Naruto! You know I can’t!”

“You’re the Hokage! Of course you can!”

“Even Hokages have to follow the Council’s orders, brat! I can’t simply let a traitor walk out of jail, just like that!”

“Don’t call him that! He’s not a traitor! He just made a stupid mistake, that’s all!”

“Naruto, I can’t, do you understand? Even if I could, I wouldn’t. He’s too dangerous to be let free!”

“He’s not! I know he’s not! Babachan…please!”

“Naruto! I have enough problems with Orochimaru and the Akatsuki still at large! Now get out! This is an order from your Hokage!”

- - -

“Yes…dead…”

“But…healed very quickly?”

“…too serious…injuries…Hokage-sama… ”

He listens, uninterested, to the bits and pieces of the hushed conversation of his two guards as they approach. They look down at him, sitting with his knees hugged tightly to his chest, their eyes burning with contempt.

“Your master is dead,” one says grimly.

He perks up. Orochimaru is dead?

“You betrayed your own village, your comrades, your friends. You don’t deserve to live, traitor!”

The words do not hurt or anger him. Instead, he finds himself agreeing with them.

- - -

Hope surges through him when he hears quiet footsteps.

Naruto?

“Sasuke.”

No. Not Naruto. The spark in his eyes dims and a weak sneer twists his lips. Sakura stands outside the cell, looking like she is going to cry. She bites her lip and does not speak for a long time.

She has changed. He can feel that she has grown more powerful in his absence.

“Why did you come if you don’t want to talk?” he rasps out, his voice hoarse from disuse.

Is the question directed to her or to Naruto? He himself doesn’t know anymore.

She sighs and closes her eyes, and for the first time, he sees how tired and pale she looks. There are dark smudges under her eyes and she looks sad. So sad.

“I just…” she trails off, seeming frustrated at her inability to express herself. When she opens her eyes again, her green eyes are glinting coldly. “I just wanted to see the broken pieces that are left of us.”

She then leaves without saying another word, and he is left to wonder what she meant.

- - -

He dreams of Itachi and his parents sometimes.

Halfway between reality and sleep, he remembers the softness of his mother’s arms as they hold him, can almost see the pride in his father’s eyes when he finally learns the Katon, can almost hear Itachi’s voice calling him gently to wake up or he’d be late for school.

And then he does wake up to the four gray walls surrounding him.

He wonders. Would he be here, right now, in this cell, if Itachi had not killed their parents? Would history have been written differently?

Maybe. Probably. He thinks so.

All he has done ever since his brother slaughtered their family, their whole clan, has solely been to gain enough power to avenge them after all. And where has that power brought him?

Into a musty, filthy prison cell.

The irony of it all is enough to make him laugh hysterically.

- - -

“I heard you had a fight with the Hokage-sama this morning, Naruto.”

“She won’t listen to me!”

“Naruto. You’re being unreasonable.”

“Kakashi-sensei! You should understand! Sasuke is not dangerous!”

“Naruto. You are a Jounin and a member of the Anbu of Konoha. You should know better than most what the laws of our village say about traitors.”

“Sasuke is not a traitor! He’s not! Stop calling him that!”

“Orochimaru is out there, somewhere, in need of a new body. We cannot afford to let Sasuke go, Naruto.”

“Does that mean that if Orochimaru ceases to be a threat to Konoha, Sasuke can be released?”

- - -

“Yo, Uchiha.”

The Toad Hermit. Jiraiya.

“What do you want?” he asks dully. “I’ve already told the interrogation unit everything I know about Sound.”

“I’m not here about that, Uchiha.” Jiraiya leans against the wall facing the cell. The legendary Sannin looks older than he remembered.

“Then what do you want?”

“To ask you something. Did you…have you ever thought of the brat as a friend?”

The question comes so suddenly that he is stunned for a moment.

“Well? Have you?”

“Yes. He was my first and best friend. Do not doubt that.” The answer is forceful and firm.

Jiraiya nods curtly and gives him a crooked smile that does not reach his eyes. “The brat would have been glad to hear that.”

The Sannin turns to go.

“Jiraiya…sama. Where is the usuratonkachi?”

Jiraiya stops in his tracks, his shoulders tensing. He doesn’t turn around.

“Has he…has he given up on me?” There is a faint tremor in his voice, but Jiraiya pretends not to notice.

“Uchiha. You should know better than anyone else that the brat never gives up. Not even on lost cases.”

“Then why doesn’t he come to see me?”

This time, Jiraiya does not reply.

- - -

He stares up at the ceiling as he lies on his back on the cold stone floor.

Naruto…

Have you really given up on me?

You must have, right? You haven’t been to see me for such a long time…

The chilly draft makes him shudder in his thin cotton yukata. Funny how cold it can get in the prison even when it is the summer. He hugs himself and turns to his side in a foetal position.

Don’t give up on me, Naruto…please.

I don’t want to be given up on.

Don’t give up…

Don’t…

Naruto…

- - -

Naruto coughed up more blood as he dragged the corpse of Orochimaru behind him.

A few more steps…just a few more steps to his beloved Konoha.

The wound just above his heart where Orochimaru had pierced him with a poisoned katana reopened, red blood gushing out to drench Naruto’s Anbu uniform.

He gritted his teeth and ignored the pain.

A few more steps…

He could feel his own chakra dwindling. Soon it would burn out completely. He felt so tired. He fought to keep his eyes open, but the images in front of him were starting to blur.

The gates of Konoha loomed before him. He staggered towards them like a man stranded in the desert staggers towards an oasis.

The guards on duty were saying, shouting something to him, but his hearing ability had strangely been reduced to buzzing and a persistent ringing. He stood there dripping in a puddle of his own blood, watching the gates open, and he laughed a little breathlessly at how much it felt like reaching heaven.

His pain was too unbearable now. He fell to his knees, one hand still holding onto Orochimaru’s arm.

There were more people now. Surrounding him, shouting at him.

His vision was slowly fading to gray, then black.

Yes… sleep. He was so tired.

He smiled again before the tendrils of unconsciousness wove around him completely.

“Sasuke…”

- - -
Owari.

Author's Notes:
That wasn't too bad, was it? (laughs nervously) ~~Please don't kill me!~~

Thank you, disparue for the idea and the permission ~~to butcher your story~~!

[Recycle] God Touched

Thu, 25 May 2006 15:35:15 GMT

Working title: God Touched
Author: taes
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: AU, fantasy, angst-and-romance?
Warnings: Slightly bloody, leaning towards a "chara-interaction" and/or "action-plot" fic.
Pairings: SasuNaru, NaruSasu, Gods x Whoever-they-damn-well-please.
General plotline/storyline: Sasuke and Naruto have been chosen by the gods Orochimaru and Jiraiya to give their "gifts" to the gods...they are "Chosen," or "Touched" with such gifts.
Author's notes: *drums fingers* I really wanna know what you'd do with this. Do what eva' you want, eh? :) continuing from here, rewriting the idea, I don't mind. :)

A touch of hands, smiling, sweet lips, and gentle caress of hair so fine it could be gold. Your aura has, as ever, glowed brightly in my eyes as it will again. I smirk behind grinning lips and note the blood on your cheek. Your damned, softened and whitened cheeks are blood streaked.

Three.

There are three bloody streaks to mark you as what you are, to mark you as god Touched or Chosen.

Few would name you lucky.

Few would envy your ability, and even fewer envy mine.

I am God Touched—Lord Orochimaru has ever wanted me, and he has me, now and always—and I am marked. My rank denoted by the retched collar—once a halo—that chokes any rebuke from me… My wings are but wispy flashes of air to the common fools, as your aura is merely strangely colored light…

But if you are Touched, you would see the differences all the clearer.

No, you could never be just Chosen, you could never be only Touched, you, with your pride and your goddamned arrogance make you take it off! The blindfold the gods Themselves put reverently around your eyes to spare you the shock of Their features…and you take it off with nary a thought, and you see me.

Ah, the arrogance…

For that, Lord Jiraiya marked you as His, marked you with the kitsune lines, and tried to steal your Gift for His own.

Gods are not greedy, child.

They merely expect to receive what is yours—and thus, rightfully Theirs.

Don’t smile, love, or they’ll want that, too…

Just be calm.

Just be

silent

as you could never be…

I laugh now, and you, idiotically, only smile. Fool. You haven’t realized, have you?

You’re in Their territory, now. You are no longer your own.

So stop acting like you’re the one in charge, bitch…

[recycle] Slaves of the Snake

Thu, 25 May 2006 15:21:12 GMT

Working title: Slaves of the Snake
Author: taes
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: AU, fantasy, angst
Warnings: serious, angsty, and written to make you think. Likely abuse on Sasuke and or Naruto.
Disclaimer: the hand that draws is not the one that owns it all, but the one who dreams it all is king of a realm between the faery and the fae...[don't own it...]
Pairings: SasuNaru, NaruSasu, OroNaru, OroSasu...and whoever-the-hell-Orochimaru-feels-like x either.
Summary: Slaves.
Author's notes: I would like to continue this, but I don't see this happening. No ideas for this one, and too many other stories to work on...I might pick it up? But it's doubtful. Very, very doubtful. Do what eva' you want, eh? :) continuing from here, rewriting the idea, I don't mind. :)

[chpt 1]

Their eyes were just like ours, only deeper set, but without the wrinkles our old get. The taller blond’s were amazingly blue, and his quirked smile was accented by the loose, golden hair. The smaller Jap, he got black hair so deep it’s blue, hey? It ain’t like ours, it ain’t brown or course, you get me, don’cha. It’s a silky kinda string and fine as could be, yeah? Yeah, I can see why the two Fuck-asses were little more than whores.

I can see real good, see?

Dancing smiles, both of ‘em. It was like watching a fly swim in the air, really, with that crappy feel of shitlines.

I got the feelin’, m’bro, that if you mixed their skin together, huh? If you mixed it up, and could make it like one guy’s, you’d get a healthy honey wash, better ‘n the cleanest guy like me. An knowin’ this, I had to spit, to get the taste outta my mouth...yeah.

Their clothes. Yeh, that clothing’s like designer slut wear, hell yeh. They looked good, with just enough skin showing, and just enough covered up.

Yeah, real good, see?

Too good to look at us in our poverty, at our dirt-caked skin and hungry forms. They got it good, man, not at all like us, hey?

You know what I mean. You been there, huh? You just like us, not like them, not a climber.

“What’re you lookin’ at, ho?” I called, my voice loud. They finally got to me. I stepped closer, imposing my height and build on them. I mean, I ain’t the biggest, heaviest guy around, but I sure as hell am bigger ‘n them. They’re daisies, and I’m a rock. My eyes glowed, my hair stood on end, and they had the nerve to not even flinch!

Imagine the fools.

I coulda pounded either one of ‘em, and they don’t even blink!!

“Fuck you, man—” I’m yelling, handing out words like knives and hopin’ they wanna tango, y’know? It’s too much ta take, livin like we do. And I’ll sure as hell wipe the ground with their sorry asses, the bastards.

The blond prince laughs, while his king watches through slitted, amused and golden eyes. The king turns away—safe in the slums, the bastard’s so f’ing powerful—and leaves his pets to me. I can’t help but grin.

“Nice choice a words, fuck-wad.” White teeth flashed in that gently tanned face, and the contrast had my eyes in moments.

That’s when I realized that their badass tattoos weren’t quite what I thought. Shit, it was like a spider web, wound up and coiled like rope with tiny, flower-like kisses. The raven prince’s was like a choker, a vampire necklace that came together just off the center. It made the seal on his neck less noticeable, but even a Natural like me can feel the power...

The blond Cat, with his painful laughter and huge grins, his is hidden behind a wave of hair, but a breeze reveals the web. This time, it’s like the spider got wet, and spun a web thicker ‘n the raven’s, and only on half the face. Up above the forehead, hey? Around the edge just enough to touch a sarcastic eyebrow and stopping at a curve just under his eye. Like the others, his web near glowed, and if I concentrated, I could feel the chains.

The ropes and coils and needlebites that bound the two ho’s to their King, the snake lord.

“You think you got it so bad?” I scream at ‘em, huh? And the Raven doesn’t even think of me. He’s off somewhere in his head, not even on the same world like the rest of us.

And Cat, yeah, Cat with his six whiskers on his round face? He’s a picture! He just grins at me, a snide ol’ grin like m’ol’ pop used to have, ri’ before they turned his face in.

But the Jap answers first. “Don’t even think of comparing us.” The words caught me off, y’know? It’s like everything shoulda been sensual, pretty, even, but him? Yeah, this Raven, he’s like ice, man, he’s like gettin’ stuck by a knife in the gut...

I crow, laughing now, ‘cause I know they can’t touch me! A slave lifts a hand on a Natural, and shit, man, they’re gone ‘fore they even know what hit ‘em! Haha, yeah, no shit, man. I can deal with a couple a slaves.

“We different, ho, we ain’t got special food or clothes like you do!” and it looked so cool in the killing sun, it looked so great.

Makes a guy want some time alone with this kinda slave.

Cat’s smile is sad now, and I think of my old nana, my old lady sayin’ that there’s a cat in the sky, crying down on all o’ us asses.

The Jap’s laughing like he know, too. I spit again, but I soon think better of doing it another time, ‘cause my mouth’s as dry as hell. I want a soda, I want water, damn it, something to help my throat.

But my head’s hurting like hell, and my hands are achy too.

I don’t want to hear about their troubles. I don’t want to hear about how a slave can hurt, too...

We’ve got enough of our own problems, hey?

* * * * *

[chpt 2]

The sun was bright.

The lady, plump.

Her companion, almost starved.

Both were browned by the sun.

Both were out, alone, on a once-busy street.

They talked, they gossiped, and the lady smiled a self-satisfied grin.

She pushed her stroller back and forth as she talked. “Me, sugar? What do you want to know about lil’ ol’ me for, babe? I can smile all I want, ‘cause I’ve got conections ‘roud here.”

Her companion mumbled something indistinct.

“You might be hungry,” the lady’s eyes roamed unabashedly up the poor woman’s form. “but I can smile and walk, babe. I can smile and cook my sweet cakes, I can walk my street and hold my head high. Unlike you poor and desperate fools, I’ve got it good. I can do as I please, I can cook, I can smile.”

And she could.

“Because he’s got me.”

Her smile didn’t falter, her eyes didn’t squint.

Her companion didn’t say anything, but she thought it.

It looked like a mask, her face.

“You know, right?” her voice, too smooth.

Her companion slowly lifted her head. The poor woman slowly smiled back a little.

“You know the kind of lovin’ I get.” She laughed. “You know the power I hold in my fair and dainty hand.” She flexed her hand. It wasn’t the least bit fair or dainty.

“So don’t you laugh, hon,” she laughed herself, and her companion whimpered a small protest. “don’t you look down on me, alrigh’? I know where I am, you know where you are?”

Her companion knew.

Perhaps, more than the lady did.

“Right. I thought so.” The plump woman laughed again.

“You don’t know no better than a plow horse, you sweet fool.”

Her companion said nothing.

“Those kids, there?”

The teenagers were different. They were clean. They smelled sweet.

“Don’t you kid me! They’ve got it good, better than you!”

But their eyes looked like the lady’s.

They darted. They shrunk.

“Better than lots of folks, those lucky trinket whores…just a flash of gold in the day’s own sun! Just a little coin in ol’ King Snake’s dead-white palm.”

The poor woman shuddered.

King Snake.

“…baubles, is all.” The plump woman continued. Her baby gurgled.

“That’s all, dear.”

The poor woman smiled.

“Nobody ain’t got it better ‘n me.”

The poor woman’s smile was gentle.

Kind.

“…not even them.”

Both looked at the whores.

The baby in the stroller wailed for a brief instant. The plump woman jumped. Looked at the sun.

“So, ‘scuse me, sweetie, my baby’s cryin’ now, dear, and my man’ll be home ‘fore I know it. Get alon’, now1 I’m sure yours’d be just as sweet if you were as good to ‘im as me.”

The poor woman looked at her own baby.

A product of love.

She looked at the simple cloth shielding tender skin.

She smiled.

“Get them toy lovers out of yo mind.”

She’d already forgotten them.

“You don’t owe them a n’ther passing glance, dear.”

The plump woman was getting farther away. Her retreating form was something to watch; it swayed.

The poor woman’s baby crooned a lovely little croon.

“Not a single, solitary

“one.”

But she did think.

And she spoke that thought aloud.

“Poor souls. I wouldn’t trade an hour of my life for their’s.” she looked after the plump woman.

“Not a single, solitary

“one.”

* * * * * *

tell me what you think? Try your hand?

[Recylce] "monsters and blood"

Thu, 25 May 2006 15:10:36 GMT

Working title: monsters and blood
Author: taes
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: Creepy Angst, blood-and-gore.
Warnings: Creepy and bloody.
Pairings: I don't give a d***. ^^
General plotline/storyline: a raving narrator (pick your chara, it's in 1st and 2nd person) shares his secrets.
Author's notes: this is meant to be interpreted openly. Choose your favorite pairing, choose your favorite charas to play with...you tell me who the narrator is referring to, 'kay?
...I'd like to continue this, but I don't see myself doing anything with it...
Do what eva' you want, eh? :) continuing from here, rewriting the idea, I don't mind. :)

"You see, it all began in the beginning, as ridiculous as that sounds."

His raucous laughter splits the wind, the air around him as if it were an altogether different medium. His eyes are sharp, glinting and malignant.

"See, it's all me, it's always been me and it always will be me.
"It has to be.
"Why else would I be here, huh?'

"It's tempting to say it, it's tempting to fucking let everything go to pieces and let my own crimson mouth take on shades of scarlet-- blood colors, see?-- and let the whole thing tear
"me
"out
"from inside through.

"I can feel the bile rising in my throat, I can sense the bones shifting in my feet as I lean forward, ready to leap away from everything, ready to let this whole mad world go away and away and away from everything that I ever knew."

his eyes are so bright. His eyes are so brilliant. He clutches at his head, not closing his wonderful, glorious eyes.

"Shit, shit, shit...what do I say, what do I say? What can I fucking tell you that you don't already know?

"...I could tell you, you know, about the world I live in, day to day to day to every fucking morning on the eastern rise on the cliff that borders consciousness and sleeping. Fuck. Borders dreaming because that's where everything important starts. You see?

"It's just...it's just me, it's just me, it's nothing that you ought to pay attention to, it's just me..

"Nothing I say can touch you.

"So, firefly on my finger, butterfly on the wind, I'll catch you. Snare you with my blood-colored tongue and pull you in my throat, a cage of soft tissue and soft design like nothing anyone ever knew.

"I am me.

"I am I.

"Who are you?

"Are you the fly or the fire-bug?"

His laughter soars ever upwards, ever onwards and always out. In between the words of madness that have taken him so lovingly, he spews words of truth, words of wisdom, even. You need only look in his eyes to know which words are
true
and which of the foolish, nonsense words are
not.

"I sense it. I sense it in you. The fucking glow of power, the stream of you that tears you from me and traces only the sweetest of insults to your body.

"It's getting darker, sweet, it's getting darker and nothing you can do can stop me from keeping you here with me, like you ought to be, like you

"will

"be."

His smile has taken on an edge, his white teeth have become all too sharp for soft, human lips. The gleam in his eyes is ever bright, ever there...

"Have you ever tasted it? Have you ever, ever felt the soft, soft membrane between your eyeteeth, rolled it against your tongue, against the sides of your cheeks? Don't let your fronts take all the joy, you can feel it best, sweet, you can feel it best, sweet-- when you place the warm, if you push it between your molars, slow and soft, now, and slowly

"gently

"bring your jaws together. The flimsy little barrier between the sweet juices will tighten just an instant, and then it will be as nothing, a giving rise to the flood of sweet, sticky fluid...

"I hope you rolled it out long, dear, I hope you let it slide against every part of your mouth...the iris, the pupil, I hope you felt every single part of the eye...hope you toyed and rolled it and sucked and smiled...for you'll never get a pair like that again.

"Never get a pair so red as those, never taste the raw power of chakura as strong as you just did...there are only two Uchiha,</i> babe, and one of them's not for taking."

His laughter soars again, higher and higher...as though the darling boy could no longer hold his mirth.

"Oh, no, oh no, no no...no, no...you can't have tasted the Sharingan eye...

"...see, dear..."

He takes your face in his callused hands, and his tongue slides between white sets of teeth.

"Those were mine."

His tongue begs release from the cage of his teeth, and he smiles a little.

"The cherished beginning of my collection, the simple and eloquent pair that set me to my skills, started my thirst for new things...to see, dear, to see...."

He crows, a harsh and angry sound.

"The second you split the seam, babe, the second it's done...? You can see the last thing the damned one saw...you can view your own lovely face, see the scars and the flow of sweet, simple hair and know they was'a lookin at their god of death and destruction...

"...or you can take the eyes of the dead, sweet, and you know what?

"You can find out...real quick...who killed them."

His brilliant eyes close.

"So that's what I do.

"That's what I do on my missions of so great importance..."

The sarcasm is heavy on his throat.

"...and I know what you did, what you saw, dear one...

"...I want him back."

His hands reach for your temple, cold now and rough and harsh as anything's ever been.

"I will have him."

His hands are gentle.

His hands are strong.

The last thing you see is his red, cavernous,

lusting

mouth.

[Recycle] Space Naruto

Thu, 25 May 2006 14:57:24 GMT

Working title: Space Naruto ~~also known as, "don't ask me, I suck with titles.~~
Author: taes
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: AU, sci-fi, action-romance
Warnings: crack? silly stuff.
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn’t belong to me. Not even a little.
Pairings: SasuNaru, NaruSasu? Or whatever the heck you feel like.
Summary: Naruto is the pilot of a space ship—with Sasuke as his captain. Naruto gets sick right before an inspection, and...what will happen?
Author's notes: This was actually written on request, but I didn't have any ideas for it...strange, for me, but I guess the lack of detail to the world killed my interest.
Do what eva' you want, eh? :) continuing from where I left off, rewriting the idea altogether, I don't mind. :)

Untitled
by Taes

****

Naruto sneezed.

Everyone aboard the space vessel ‘Wind Walker’ flinched, their eyes gone wide and shoulders tense.

It was the Captain who growled first. “You,” he turned coal black eyes on the sniffling blond. “Are.”

The remainder of the crew silently edged away from the man.

“The worst pilot I’ve ever met!” the black haired captain snarled. He put one delicate hand to his forehead and groaned quietly. “What did I tell you about the Sound Village’s water supply?”

A thoroughly unhappy frown followed the remark. “I know, I know,” his normally smooth, musical voice was flattened by an obvious infection. The poor blond sniffled again, rubbing half-heartedly at his running nose. “You said ‘it’s not clean, don’t drink it,’ I remember…”

Naruto sneezed again, and the ship responded with a stomach-churning jerk.

With an irritated wave of a hand, the Captain exited.

The remaining two shipmates exchanged glances. Temari sighed wearily at Shikamaru, mouthing, ‘Turn on the autopilot function!’

Shikamaru’s eyes twitched. ‘No. You do it!’ he replied silently.

With a smooth, feline grin, the older girl tilted her head. ‘You’re the fix-it guy aboard, now aren’t you?’ her eyes goaded.

At the head of the ship, Naruto grumbled. “Quit talking about me!” he snapped, turning reddened eyes to the quarreling two.

“And don’t even think about turning the autopilot on!” Naruto, born and raised in Konoha of the Fire Planet, was adamant about this. “No pilot would ever let his skills be questioned, even if—” Naruto hastily grabbed a tissue from the box by his foot, wiping at his nose, “—even if he’s sick or anything stupid like that…”

Shikamaru sighed, and gave Temari an, ‘I told you so,’ glare.

Temari stuck out her tongue in reply.

“I’m a Konoha pilot! I’m the best there is, no question about it!” the blond cheerfully laughed.

Rather than inspiring confidence in the barely licensed kid’s abilities, the stuffed-up sounding laughter made both officers sigh.

The Captain returned to the front, two covered glasses of water in hand. One, he handed to Naruto. The other he nursed, wearily. “You do realize, of course,” he said by way of greeting, “that we have an inspection coming up in two hours?”

Naruto smiled weakly. “…uh, yeah…” he grabbed another tissue. “Come on, it’s just a cold…” as he warily spit into a kleenex, his eyes closed momentarily. The ship nearly flipped.

“Naruto!”

“What?” turning his gaze back to the monitor, Naruto made the proper adjustments. “Geeze, we didn’t crash all night, and I was piloting then—”

Temari sighed. “Naruto, baby, I know that you want to be the best from your planet and all—”

“—I wanna be the Hokage, Temari—”

“Yeah. I know. Anyways. Even they know to use the autopilot on such a small vessel! What if we had a three month long journey, huh? You couldn’t stay up every day and night—”

The returning glower made everyone in the room wonder exactly how the blond would respond to this.

“Naruto, as your Captain, I’m ordering you to bed.” The black haired man promptly drained the remainder of his water.

Naruto’s mouth dropped. “No. Way!” He sneezed, jerking the ship forward. With squinted eyes and an all-out pout, Naruto whined, “Come on, Sasuke…”

But the Uchiha Captain would not relent. “I mean it.” He growled. “Get to your quarters now!”

Naruto rolled his eyes, punched in a quick code, and stood up. “It’s on auto.” He informed the crew. “You happy, now?”

Shikamaru and Temari nodded wordlessly.

Naruto fixed them with an acid glare, his normally handsome features screwed up in a face of displeasure. “Geeze, what kinda friends are—”

“I’d much rather stay alive, Naruto, than feed your already bloated ego…” the engineer mumbled, moving warily into his seat.

Temari snickered. “Exactly.”

Naruto began to move towards the sleeping quarters, but Sasuke wasn’t quite done with his orders. “Naruto, I want you to stop by medical and see Sakura…then you’re to get something mild to eat from Chouji, and sleep for the rest of the day.”

In reply, Naruto raised one finger. “Fuck. You.” He grumbled, and disappeared behind the automatic doors, shaking his head slowly and leaning on one wall.

Temari sighed. “Captain, it might not have been the water…” she offered. “…it may have been his constant lack of sleep that—”

Sasuke’s eyes softened. “Yeah, I know…I’ll talk to him about it.” The Uchiha sighed, running his hand through his hair.

Shikamaru and Temari exchanged glances, wondering exactly how the two would settle the disagreement. It was a well-known fact among the small crew that Naruto sometimes shared his superior’s bed, despite Sakura’s mild reprimanding.

“How long until we reach the Mist Region, navigator?” Sasuke asked finally. His eyes flashed red as he scanned the shifting controls and bright colored lights, memorizing their positions in case of emergency.

Temari coughed lightly. “Ahh, I set the course into the computer last night…” she moved to the closest console. “We should reach the weigh station in…two hours, fifteen minutes.” She winced. “Just a little late…Naruto was probably planning on taking some kind of shortcut…” she glanced at Shikamaru.

The black-haired engineer eyed the older woman irritably. “What?”

Temari gave him a significant glance, as if to say, ‘Don’t you know any shortcuts?’

Shikamaru ignored her, and turned to his Captain. “Why don’t we just get ready for inspection, huh?” he suggested, pulling wearily at his topknot. “I’ll get our passports, paperwork and what-not together…” he headed out of the bridge, and called over his shoulder, “Don’t forget to keep your license for weaponry, magic and piloting on you, Sir…as Captain, you’ll be expected to keep all that crap on your person.”

Sasuke sighed. “Of course.” And he, too, headed off the bridge.
****

[Recycle] Untitled Plotbunny

Thu, 25 May 2006 12:46:41 GMT

Working title: Untitled
Author: Wowie
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: General
Warnings: AU (deviates from chapter 225 onwards, but still in Narutoverse). Also involves OCs.
Pairings: Nothing really, though I wanted it to gear towards SasuNaruSasu.
General plotline/storyline: I actually thought of this fic during the Sasuke's defection arc. At that time, it wasn't revealed yet that there are a total of 9 tailed beasts that is scattered around. My plotbunny also include other jinchuuriki like Naruto & Gaara, but unlike canon, I only thought of two other "youkai" which comes from the three remaining great Shinobi countries: Water country, Earth Country, and Lightning Country. This was actually supposed to be a joint fic with my friends underthemoon and innocentlyjaded, and that kooriyoukai was supposed to help in beta reading it. But I never got around to starting it until Naruto part 2 came out and that it was revealed that there 9 tailed beasts / 9 jinchuuriki. But then I did research for it and it'll be such a waste not to use it.

and the research material, in case you're interested in recycling:

MAIN CHARACTERS

Uzumaki Naruto – Name meaning “Whirlwind Fishcake”. Host to Kyuubi, the fire kitsune.
Sabakuno Gaara – Name meaning “I love death of the Sand”. Host to Shukaku, the sand tanuki.
Mizuno Kiyoshi – Name meaning “Purity of Water”. Host to Orochi, the eight-headed dragon of the mist.
Tsuchie Tanaka – Name meaning “Earth Dweller”. Host to Tsuchigumo of Mt. Kageyama.
Aoiki Sora – Name meaning “Blue Mountain Sky”. Host to Raiha, the wind kirin.

YOUKAI

Source: http://www.youkaimura.org/

Kitsune (Fox Spirit)

The kitsune is one of the most popular and interesting of all youkai, as inscrutable and mysterious as the fox and yet with mystical qualities like any youkai. Some kitsune are revered as messengers of the fertility god Inari, who also presides over rice specifically, and over prosperity and business. In fact, kitsune are so popular that offerings are usually left for the kitsune to win favor with the god Inari!

However, not all kitsune are regarded as benevolent creatures; one of the most famous kitsune in history was Tamamo-no-Mae, renowned for her cruelty and the fact that death seemed to surround her. But on the other side of the same coin was Kuzu-no-ha, who gifted her son by a human with the ability to speak with all creatures, and an innate ability to magic was born in the child. It is said that this son was the ancestor of none other than famous onmyouji (a type of sorceror) Abe-no-Seimei.

As you may have noticed, kitsune are different from regular foxes due to their numerous tails. Some legends say that kitsune gain a tail for every 100 years they exist, whereas others say every 1000, and some say that it is simply a sign of a kitsune's power. Others say that a tail may be granted by favor of an older kitsune or the god Inari. One thing remains consistent between the stories: the more tails a kitsune has, the more powerful he or she is.

Kitsune come in various colors and may sometimes change their color at whim, or wear several colors at once. Typically when a kitsune has nine tails, however, he or she will assume the color white or silver, which is another indication of a high-ranked kitsune.

Kitsune have been known to take physical form by either willing it and forming a physical body, or by possessing a human. In this way they may interact freely without revealing their true nature, but various stories tell of different limitations to this, such as compatible body shape and size, a limitation on using too much kitsune magic in human form, and so on. However, these reports are inconsistent.

From most accounts, kitsune tend to be feminine in nature, and many stories over the years portray kitsune as inherently feminine or taking female form when in human form. However, many male kitsune exist, although they do not seem to be as common about showing themselves in human society. Kitsune are able to assume the form of whichever gender they wish, however, when taking human form.

Outside of human society, however, kitsune often band together in societies that mirror human society of ages past, with elaborate rules of etiquette and various prestigious courts. Some are more like this than others, but to be privy to a kitsune celebration is a true honor indeed.

The kitsune's greatest power is that of illusion. If a kitsune wished, he could make a human see almost anything. Only those with magical power or true protection of a deity could defy these illusions and see through them and possibly extend that protection to others as well. But most cannot tell when they are being enchanted by the illusions of a kitsune, often because the kitsune will manifest something the person desires to see and so does not wish to disbelieve in it.

A kitsune's illusions may even extend to smell, taste, even touch. A person wrapped up in the kitsune's glamour may not be able to tell the difference between the illusion and reality because it is so real. The kitsune may of course decide to dissolve the illusion at any time, which may be used as a prank with more playful kitsune. Indeed kitsune are regarded as playful tricksters in many stories.

Kitsune are notorious hedonists when in human form and often can be tempted to partake in the pleasures of the flesh such as eating delicious foods, enjoying pleasant incenses, and of course making love. Any child born of a union with a kitsune will be gifted with abilities that will set him apart from other children, typically a natural talent for magic of certain types or the ability to shapeshift.

Some kitsune use glasslike spheres to focus their energy and sometimes use them to project illusions or animate them. If a human is able to find such a sphere, it may bestow upon him powerful magic, or it may alternately incur the kitsune's wrath or prompt a kitsune to plead for its return. As always, respect should be first and foremost on the list of anyone attempting to deal with youkai.

A kitsune will never break his or her word if he or she can help it. The shame of doing so would be immense, and most kitsune would rather do anything before they would break their word. If you win the trust of a kitsune, it will be difficult for others to convince that kitsune otherwise. They are extremely loyal to those whom they trust, and they would often do anything for those people.

Aburage, or sweetened fried tofu, is commonly known as a favorite food of the kitsune. Thusly the sushi roll made of pickled rice wrapped in a skin of aburage is known as kitsune maki. So, too, is the savory udon noodle dish with a hearty piece of aburage prepared in it known as kitsune udon (one of Hushichou's favorites!) Aburage and dishes featuring it are often left as offerings at temples to Inari or his messengers, to gain favor with them.

Kitsune have always fascinated people the world over, and I am no different. I find them intriguing, and the vast amounts of stories that pop up always continue to interest me. Everyone seems to have his or her own ideas about these magnificent beings who exist among us, yet outside our realms of experience. And yet any of us may unknowingly have kitsune blood in us, ourselves.

Tanuki (Raccoon Dog)

Not only an animal native to Japan, but also a powerful force to be reckoned with, the tanuki is in the same league as the fox for mystic prowess. However, unlike foxes and kitsune, tanuki are rarely messengers of deities or anyone else, for that matter; they act on their own and often do so mischievously, to cause chaos and confusion amongst humans and, sometimes, other youkai.

Tanuki possess the same shapeshifting powers as many other youkai, and they can change into nearly anything...or anyone. Possessing a passionate love for sake, they can at times become violent or unpleasant drunks, or they can become unpleasant when deprived of sake for too long. Although they're generally well-regarded, some stories paint tanuki in a decidedly unsavory manner, beasts to be avoided at best. Still others speak of marvelous benevolence and incredible secrets learned from tanuki friends, who wish only to preserve the natural beauty of the world.

A male tanuki's most striking feature is undoubtedly his immense scrotum, which is sometimes mistaken for his equally rotund belly. Tanuki may use this as a drum, to produce confusion or illusions. The beat can mesmerize others as well, and care must be taken. Sake is said to pacify even the most unsociable of tanuki, and if they choose to take someone into confidence, great wisdom can be learned from them.

Tanuki are respected and, to some, feared. But to others they're adored and cherished as cute forest friends who wish for only the best. It is unclear as to what tanuki goals really are. Perhaps, like humans, they are as individual as grains of sand and do not all share the same aspirations. Indeed, while there are reports of a close-knit tanuki society, they all seem to act very independently. Perhaps one day we will learn the truth directly from a tanuki.

Orochi (Eight-Headed Dragon)

One of the legendary creatures most famous in Japan is Orochi, the dragon fought by the warrior-god Susano-Oh. Stories told about Orochi all seem to agree that it was truly magnificent and terrible, and that it had multiple heads and a gigantic body that was said to stretch across eight hills and valleys. Some sources offer that the number eight may be indicative of simply an indiscriminate large number, and that Orochi might be much more massive than some may think. Some also believe that it may have possessed only seven heads and may have been smaller; whatever is believed, it was truly fearsome!

The sinister Orochi dominated a region in Japan, which some say was the Izumo province, and demanded virgin sacrifices. When the warrior-god Susano-Oh came upon this area travelling through it, he met a couple in hysterics: their daughter was to be sacrificed to Orochi. Some versions of this story say that they had already sacrificed seven other girls to the creature. The daughter in question here was named Kushinada, and Susano-Oh told the couple that he would rescue her from that fate if he was able to marry her. Naturally the couple agreed at once.

Susano-Oh, in some versions of the story, turned Kushinada into a comb and put her in his hair. He then put out eight barrels of either pears or sake (depending on the version) which the dragon drank with relish, making it clumsier and less quick. Susano-Oh and Orochi engaged in a truly world-shaking battle which ended in Orochi's heads being cut off and Susano-Oh finding the enchanted blade Kusanagi in one of its two tails. In some versions Kusanagi is called Kusanagi-no-Tsunegi, which basically means 'The Grass-Cutting Sword', and this sword was given to Amaterasu, Susano-Oh's sister, who is the Japanese Goddess of the Sun. She then gave it to her descendant on Earth, the Emperor; from that point on it is said that it has been kept as one of the Three Sacred Treasures of Yamato.

Orochi is a name that invokes the most powerful imagery in the minds of so many. Few would not recognize the name through one means or another...few beings have had such a sway on any culture. Orochi is a fearsome and terrible force, but it is also a necessary one if it can be seen as the force of destruction, the force of change, which must be tempered by that of creation and life, to renew the ongoing cycle of nature.

Tsuchigumo (Earth Spider)

Spiders are perhaps some of the most maligned of creatures, especially when it comes to tales of horror. However, some do little to dismiss their bad reputation, and one of those is the fearsome and monstrous Tsuchigumo.

Stories differ on exactly how the classical heroic personality Raiko is drawn into the web of the mysterious and powerful Tsuchigumo, but basically the underlying story seems to be that Raiko was adventuring as usual and found himself visited by a mysterious person. In some versions this is a woman wearing a striking outfit and possessing an immensely powerful aura, and in others it is a monk, visiting because Raiko had taken ill suddenly. Whatever the circumstances, Raiko's sudden illness prevented him from seeing through the illusion until it was nearly too late; the visitor was spinning webs to prevent him from even moving, draining his power...but Raiko's quick thinking enabled him to slash at the stranger with his blade, and slash through the enchanted webs.

A trail of blood appeared for the man to follow; obviously Raiko had wounded the creature through its illusion. He gathered his comrades together and set out, following the trail to a cave wherein the fearsome Tsuchigumo dwelled and swearing to put an end to the creature. Once in they had discovered that they were indeed not the only ones to attempt it, but if they were to succeed they may well be the only ones to do so! Tsuchigumo put up quite a fight with its many defenses, including a stronger version of its web, but ultimately the story tells us that Raiko and his men escaped alive and, reportedly, victorious.

However, we all know that youkai are effectively immortal...

Tsuchigumo has been given many titles through the years, many of which seem to imply that it occupies a lofty position in the world of the supernatural, or that it might have great influence over other such beings. In Japanese history, it is also said that a tribe known as the Tsuchigumo, who lived predominantly in the south regions of Japan, were similar to the great spider in that they possessed long arms and legs, a deep complexion, and lived in caves in the ground. This has caused some people to speculate that Tsuchigumo may refer to a band of thieves or bandits whom Raiko helped to banish from the land.

Tsuchigumo may seem like quite a frightening story of a creature totally evil, who exists only to draw people in using illusion, then immobilize them and eat them. However, it must also be considered that Tsuchigumo may be representative of the power of the Earth itself, of the land and especially the ground and underground, which is alluring by its mystery and promises that don't always come through. The darkness of the soil is terrifying to some and comforting to others, and the power behind it truly is fierce and unpredictable. Perhaps, then, this story can be taken on more than just one level. Perhaps the earth-spider (sometimes also called the dirt-spider) is not quite the man-eating creature it was made out to be, and instead the story may be representative of a challenge that Raiko faced in his adventures, to face the fear inherent in dealing with the darkness and shadows of the mysterious soil.

Either way, Tsuchigumo exists as an incredible being of great power and wisdom, hidden in the shadows of the earth. Not to be trifled with, Tsuchigumo only imparts strength upon those bold enough to challenge it...and strong enough to survive its test.

Kirin (Holy Purity)

One of the most magnificent and admired of creatures in the legends of the East is the Kirin. Not to be confused with the Japanese word for giraffe, kirin are different entirely. While they have at times been compared to the Western unicorn, they are not entirely the same. It is said that kirin are indeed horselike, and some may have the tail of an ox, but unlike unicorns they also have scales. Depending on the story they may have some scales or be covered in them entirely. In the traditional legends, only the male of the species is gifted with a horn, which is usually one but may be several. Typically kirin have magnificent manes and tails.

Like many other such creatures who may have origins in China, the male and female at one point had different specific names: the males were known as ki and the females were known as rin. It is more popular now, and more widely understood, to refer to them by the single term of kirin.

Kirin can speak the languages of humans easily, and some have been said to possess telepathy as well. They can sense when someone is telling them the truth as they know it or when someone is willingly trying to mislead them. Kirin, in many stories, are not inclined to help those who willingly mislead them or the people whom they regard as trustworthy or virtuous.

In all legends kirin are extremely gentle and appreciative of all life, careful never to tread upon living things wherever they go. Kirin never take an innocent life, although they may become truly fearsome in order to defend lives. If a wicked creature threatens those considered good by a kirin, that kirin will become a fierce creature indeed to defend them, howling and breathing fire, as well as other mighty abilities that vary from story to story.

It is said that kirin will not appear in a place that is not ruled by a benevolent or virtuous leader. Some maintain, however, that rulership of an area may simply refer to a household or a small place instead of an entire country, in this day and age. It is said that a kirin may make a man into a king, or bring about the downfall of a wicked ruler. Kirin rarely appear in general, but they are more likely to appear to those who respect life in much the same ways as they themselves do.
Kirin are especially known for protecting the young and young at heart, and they have no tolerance for those who abuse them. It is said that in the spring, kirin will call out to their potential mate and await an answer. If that answer comes, they will send energy to mix with their mate's to produce an offspring of that energy. Presumably any manner of pairing thusly may produce offspring, a truly magnificent aspect of their beauty.

The kirin are beloved by almost anyone who know of their wonderful and gentle legends. It is so important to remember the forces of nature embodied in such magical and magnificent forms. Just like the other youkai we known, kirin have their own particular details and accents, all making them all the more beautiful. It is something to appreciate.

Timeline:
BK – Before Kyuubi
AK – After Kyuubi
(Reference from The Great Naruto Timeline thread - http://forums.narutofan.com/showthread.php?t=12409)

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS – BACKGROUND/SKETCH

Mizuno Kiyoshi

Gender: Male
Age: 18
Height: 5’4”
Blood Type: AB
Birthday: December 15, 5 BK
Hair: Black, straight hair, waist-length tied up in a bun (just like Nataku’s hairstyle from Gensomaden Saiyuki)
Eyes: Gold (not final)
Other features: Pale-skinned, slightly large forehead with a small sapphire fixed in the middle.
Origin: Kirigakure no Sato (Village Hidden in the Mist and Fog, Water Country)

Kiyoshi was the former Mizukage’s only son who was killed by the current Mizukage in a coup that happened during the eclipse festival, in which he was spared for being the host to Orochi, the legendary eight-headed dragon that was sealed by 4 unknown shinobi into a sapphire. The said sapphire was given to the first Mizukage as a gift although no one really knew who these 4 shinobis were and their purpose for giving the sapphire to them. In order to create the “perfect shinobi” (hrrm.. I know it doesn’t sound original because it’s the same reason the Kazekage sealed Shukaku to Gaara. If you have a better suggestion, just tell me), Kiyoshi’s father infused the sapphire unto his forehead so that he could be able to channel the dragon’s chakra into his system.

After the murder of his whole clan and the establishment of the new government, Kiyoshi became the Mizukage’s personal bed slave (somewhat similar to Nakago’s past from Fushigi Yuugi). With his effeminate features, he was often mistaken for a girl and so sometimes other shinobis in league with the Mizukage would bed him also, with the permission of the Mizukage of course.

Despite all of this, Kiyoshi never really was one to show emotion openly. Even being molested, he remained passive which would make the Mizukage furious and would hit him at times. Nevertheless, he was eventually trained to become an elite shinobi and at the age of 11, he became a member of Kiri’s ANBU squad. Only months after that, he attempted to kill the Mizukage but failed and so he fled the village and ran over the Akatsuki during which Orochimaru was still a member but has already secretly established Otogakure no Sato (Village Hidden in the Sounds). This was where he also met Tsuchie Tanaka who also has a youkai sealed in him.

During his stay with Akatsuki, Orochimaru showed signs of interest on him and was secretly persuading him to go join him and become an Oto-nin. Orochimaru’s attempt was futile because Kiyoshi was clearly not interested into his quest for immortality and in turn, told the other Akatsuki members of his betrayal. With this, Orochimaru fled the Akatsuki, promising that someday he would get his revenge and destroy them all.

After Orochimaru left, the Akatsuki concentrated on a new task – to find all five of the legendary youkai. Since Kiyoshi and Tanaka were already host to two of the five and they also knew through Uchiha Itachi that the most powerful of the five was sealed to a boy named Uzumaki Naruto, the Akatsuki was able to pinpoint that the other two could be found in the Wind and the Lightning Country respectively. And so to gather more information and to collect more funds, they started to travel in pairs, in which Kiyoshi and Tanaka became partners. They were tasked to go to the Wind Country and investigate about the sand tanuki, Shukaku.

Little did the Akatsuki know, Kiyoshi and Tanaka were already on an agenda of their own. Once they found Shukaku’s host, they decided not to let the others know and persuade the said host to join them instead.

Tsuchie Tanaka

Gender: Male
Age: 19
Height: 5’5”
Blood Type: B
Birthday: May 20, 6 BK
Hair: Brown, curly hair, shoulder-length tied up in a pony tail
Eyes: Green
Other features: Tanned skin (slightly darker than Naruto’s), with bushy eyebrows (not quite like Lee’s) and a bit muscular.
Origin: Iwagakure no Sato (Village Hidden in the Rocks, Earth Country)

Tanaka was a part of Iwa’s most powerful and influential clan, Tsuchie, that has an advanced bloodline limit of turning their body into rock at will and can also manipulate them (sort of like Gaara’s ability over sand). Because of this, the Tsuchie clan was almost invincible except that in their rock form they were very susceptible to water jutsus.

Unlike the other four who had the youkai sealed into them when they were just infants, Tanaka actually became a host of Tsuchigumo when he was already ten years old and was already chuunin. He was in a spelunking expedition with his father and older brother in an underground cave near Mt. Kageyama that was formed when the said volcano erupted a few months back. Iwa had been having earthquakes since then and that they have a speculation that the newly formed cave has something to do with it. Little did they know that it was actually Tsuchigumo’s lair and so his father and brother met a gruesome death. For some reason, Tsuchigumo didn’t harm him and instead possessed his body. A massacre happened and most of the villagers, including his mother and some of his relatives, also met the same fate with his father and brother until they were able to put a seal to the possessed boy.

Because of this, many villagers feared and hated him. They all wished for him to be executed but the Tsuchikage decided to drop the case and retain his ninja rank. Although they stationed some ANBU in his house and that he was never given higher than a B-rank mission.

Almost a year after the incident, Tanaka had an encounter with Akatsuki while doing a B-rank mission. His companions were all killed and he was asked to come and join them. He tried to fight them off but in the end he succumbed and joined them.

When Orochimaru escaped the Akatsuki and Tanaka was paired up with Mizuno Kiyoshi, he discovered the truth behind Akatsuki’s task of gathering all five of the legendary youkai. With this, he was able to persuade his partner to turn against Akatsuki and that they themselves find the remaining three and ask them to join them also.

Aoiki Sora

Gender: Male
Age: 12
Height: 5’2”
Blood Type: B
Birthday: September 13, 1 AK
Hair: Silver, straight hair (rebonded haha!) jaw-length with eye-brow length bangs.
Eyes: Purple
Other features: Pale-skinned with purple make-up similar to those of the Inuzuka clan of Konoha
Origin: Makoto-gakure (Village of Oak, Lightning Country)

I can’t think of a background for him yet, haha! ^^;

+++

So yeah, anyone interested in taking it up, don't hesitate to do so. Don't forget to tell me so I could read it too~ ♥

[Recycle] Untitled plotbunny.

Thu, 25 May 2006 06:52:18 GMT

Working title: Untitled
Author: disparue
Fandom: Naruto
Genre: Angst, gen (?)
Warnings: AU
Pairings: I seriously wanted to somehow make it SasuNaru, but for the life of me, I had no idea how. I suppose it could just be a genfic, though.
General plotline/storyline: It's really kind of confusing. I thought of this over two years ago, and I still think it's interesting, but I don't remember the details. It was based on some Korean idea about reincarnation - people who were indebt to you are your parents, the people you bump into randomly were once your best (or close) friends, your sibling(s) were people who you once loved but could not be with, and ... I really don't remember the rest. Wah!
Author's notes: Since I don't remember any of the others, feel free to make up your own. I just really want to see what people can do with the idea. I know when you think about it, it's pretty cracky, but I'm sure somebody can make it work. I think you'd have to be a really good writer, though. ~~I FORBID ANY WEEPY UKES TO BE IN THIS FIC~~

Yeah, I have a bunch more, too.

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Thu, 25 May 2006 00:41:43 GMT

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