askerian | (no subject)

AUGH. BORED. My flist is dead. Why is my flist dead?

PLZPLZPLZ rec me a ~~long~~ fic, people. NaruSasu preferably, or ItaSasu or Team 7 lurveage ~~also preferably not cliche and not a schoolfic and not a rapefic and -- argh. beggars, choosers and all that.~~

I'll ~~roll over~~ settle for anything of

maldoror_gw,

chibirisuchan, or

edenfalling. ~~(i'd poke at sarolynne, windandwater and joisbishmyoga for shinobi ficcage too but we all know how likely that is. ;p)~~ Or more polyamory ficcage from

luriko_ysabeth. Or. Well. ANYTHING.

or people writing me ficlety things. Come on, I challenge, you write! reverse meme!! Isn't that a great idea?

...

._.; okay, maybe not. *hides in hole*

... or, um. Just chat with me a bit, or something. ;_; *sniffle*

EDIT: About the ficlets I still owe from the latest "challenge me" meme...

kira_kirke, if you really want 1x5 you'll have to give me a better prompt than "gardening". I swear I tried to twist it in all possible meanings and situations and NOTHING managed to inspire me. I sorry, agreeing that the look might be sexy, but i can't see either of them actually doing anything like that.

aquariankiss : uh, same. Sasuke and Naruto are staring at the bunny hat and not doing anything. I had a vague idea, but it died a messy death. *sigh*

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

In death, in dreams, he's always there. But that's not surprising, my dreams are of death and he /is/ death, and so am I, since he made me all but walking dead. When ever I close my eyes he is there, when ever I truely open /my/ eyes I have a shared mark.

But inbetween, a place I had learned of, and lived in before I learned to truely open my eyes, I'm not death. I see things like a sun dream, there is life. The bright sun yellow and clear blue. The new leaf green and flower pink. Willow silver and chirping birds.

I ache to touch the sun and flowers, the snow and stone. Life, Love, and unbreakable. Their scent... my nose is not an Inuzuka's, my mark is my eyes, so I only remember their shapes and colors. I wish I could memorize their touch.

Soft over steel. Soft over soft but still unbreaking. Soft scared over stone.

But they live and I am dead, and they only exist in a nonreality between. When I open my eyes I see them for what they truely are, brightly painted walls of welcoming sceens. Walls in my way.

But between the nightmares and nightmarish reality I will cherish these dreams.

Gaaah! So suckky! and maybe a bit too much of Team 7 for you. I didn't mean to include kakashi!

heeee! no, Iliked kakashi being there. *happypurr* *lick*

ohhh, very prettiful and angst, i like the images. tho sometimes it gets a bit confusing. Who's the first "he"? Orochimaru? I have a guess as to what's happening with sasuke but it's not really clear ^^;

the images he associates to his team, though... ;__; awww pretty.

It was an off the cuff piece of bull spawned by the first sentance which lived in my head. ANd now you call it pretty! ;_; Sooooo nice of you! *glomp*

*rubs hands together* okay, I'm sure I can come up with another drabbly thing

*face palm* oh and the He is itachi. 'truely opening his eyes' refers to the sharingan which they both share. making him walking dead refers to when he was young itachi using the mangakou(sp) sharingan on him.

And I'm not sure if you picked up on it but he was...yeah kakashi. wanted to touch and be with any of them

A shinobi must know much of science in order to be effective. It is possible to regulate these things to instinct, but best to also have them fully known. The weight of a kunai effecting the balance and the distance it would travel when thrown. Geometry and physics and math.

I do not have all such things memorized, I learned enough to past tests in the academy, but I am not Sakura.

Some things stick in my mind though, density and mass, and things useful to know for weapons. And other things that have no baring on Shinobi life.

The world spins like my sharingan eye. And should it stop, it would mean I am dead. Should the world stop eternal day would burn us all and eternal night would freeze us all. And I would still be dead. But at least Itachi would be too, I think.

The world spins like my sharingan eye and no matter how gently warm the day is nor how sweet the night they are dangerous.

Nights, even with the full moon, hid secretes and blood. Nights with the hidden terrors. Night of the silent stalkers.

Days, with the sun in the pure sky, blinded ones eyes and decived with contrast. Day of the loud happiness I no longer had.

Too long and you would broil, too long and you would freeze. Only by the constant spinning of the two giants was there balance so grass could grow and flowers could bloom. Where the weak could florish.

He wondered if the pale moon could move fast enough to sheild both sides, to make the tides ebb and flow to save them. If in its orbit could the moon pull the unturning world back to spinning? Would it spin out of control?

Bodies beneath the cherry trees, white turned pink by the kalidoscope's turn.

He remembered the cherry trees, young ones perished yet the old ones survived storm and fire that killed shinobi.

If the world did not spin all would die. Except on that thin band of dawn with the moon high above. Where Night met day the sky was replisent with gold and pink, and things lived beneath his feet. So many colors so many options written in dawn and dusk.

The world was spinning, like the shringan eye. And such times were transient and gone, banished away by the cold void, the finite heat of the sun loosing to the infinite cold. In the cold even trees of the dead withered. In the night the sun could not be seen. And he put the moon at his back. His life, day into night into light and now back to night again, the same night.

The world was spinning like the sharingan eye, and life was in the dawn, in the sun, and the dusk. But it was past twilight now, past that magical time.

He ran east under darkness. Out running life and light.

This night, ever night, the same as that night.

The world was spinning like the sharingan eye, but for him it was holding still.

(suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!)

ohhh. Very poetic. And whee symbolism :3

(though -- argh don't change POV in the middle of such a short fic ever ever, it's confusing x____x)

(no subject)

Lucid Dreams

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Spinning

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