Fic bits, happy easter and misc
Life stuff:
1)The awkward moment where you dead to tread into the pathetically small Rome fandom and you see JCaesar/OC fics and an intrinsic part of your soul is chewed up and spat out. All I wanted was some adorable Vorenus/Niobe fluff, BUT NO. FANDOM HAS TO RAPE HISTORY. ;=; as if legit novels haven't done enough of that over the years. I'm not even kidding, there is Vamp!AU, not that I have ever or will ever having anything against AUs... BUT FOR ROME? ;======; Not that I should really judge, as you will see below, I need to be flayed.
2) I'm sickity sick. But Easter was all day. I got a toblerone. It is triangular. I am saving it till I can taste it properly (everything tastes like crap when I am sick). Thus I have been clinging to spicey foods because they actually taste like things. And then you find a perfectly acceptable snack of salami, and your step-dad decides to steal it, even though he can taste other things. But I have found some chilli flavoured chips, so I am nibbling them at the moment.
Fic Stuff:
1) I want Naruto x Rome crossover. LIKE BURNING. I DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I WANT IT. At most it would be Vorenus half convinced he landed in the land of the Gods and Pullo being a massive fucking troll with Naruto. Also Vorenus would have half a romance with Kurenai. And Pullo with Anko (which would be filled with the crazy all over the place sex). And them just poking at each others culture. Also the amusement of sticking Vorenus and Gaara next to each other, as Vorenus is a slightly more honourable slightly less crazy Gaara. IT WOULD BE AMAZING AND YET NOT. BECAUSE NO ONE WOULD READ IT. So you get this half a fic intro:
--
The first thing Vorenus was sure of, was that there was warm hands on his chest. Warm, tingly hands.
Thieves! He sat bolt up right, taking the hands touching his face and chest in a firm grip.
To his surprise, it wasn't a thief, or at least not what he was expecting a thief to look like.
It was just a girl, almost on womanhood, with wide shocked eyes, green he noted. But the shock faded quickly.
“Calm down.” she snapped, trying to tug her hands back, but Vorenus grip held firm.
“Who are you?”
“... Sakura Haruno, now if don't mind, I was in the middle of trying to heal you. You've been laying out in this desert for I don't know how many hours and if I don't finish you are going to die of heat exhaustion. Your friend isn't much better.”
Pullo! How could he forget.
“Is he alright?” his mouth felt fuzzy and he dimly registered his need for water.
“He's fine, the other medic is working on him.”
“... Where are we?”
“Wind, or outside it, but at least a days run from Fire country.”
“What?” She wasn't making any sense.
“You're hurting me!” she tugged at his hand where his grip was getting tighter in his frustration.
“Sakura is something wrong?” A man appeared behind her, tall, grey hair, face half masked. Vorenus eyed him warily, letting the girl go.
“Difficult patient, that's all.”
The girl was glaring at him furiously, rubbing her wrists. Who ever she was, she held some respect, because the man nodded and left them again.
“Now if you are done being difficult.” she put a hand to his shoulder, pressing him down.
Obediently, he went, but not for long, first he had a moment of shock, then confusion, then back to shock. Her hands were... glowing? And against all odds he did start to feel better.
“W-what are you?”
She frowned, apparently still not liking his interruptions. “A healer, have you never seen one of us before?” Her tone was sarcastic and she didn't look away from her work.
He said nothing, apparently wherever this place was, Fire, Wind, somewhere that was definitely not anywhere near Rome, Greece or Egypt, and girls could heal just by touching their hands glow and touching them to another persons chest.
Where on Gaia's green earth was he?
--
2) I found this digging through my folders. It was a KureSaku (because more Yuuri, just in general yo'). It hit all my student teacher kinks (judge me later). It was kinda Sakura needed to learn the more uh, subtle acts of seduction kinda fic...
--
Lesson I. This vain cruelty, hardly becomes me.
Sakura was ringing her hands as she waited for Kurenai to answer the door, alternating with tugging at the hair that was creeping longer these days. (I need to get that cut again. I'll go see Ino soon). Much easier to think of absent things then this (God if Naruto knew...). She counted the second till the door opened, hoping to drag it out. Tonguing the cut on the roof of her mouth, scratching at the nail polish on her fingers, scrunching the material of her casual dress. (If casual meant a plain version of what she wore as a child, and since when did she only own three of these?)
When it did, she stayed there only because of duty, the sweat that had been building up in the summer heat turned cold again and as Kurenai let her over the threshold into the house. Inside the house it was cooler, a breeze was blowing from a wide window, where in poppies bloomed which she could vaguely through a thin opaque white curtain. A touch on the shoulder led her to the couch where she sat down and took up a close watch of the carpet. Again there was a touch on her shoulder and Kurenai sat next to her.
“Don't worry so much, we all have to do this at some point. Be thankful, I could be Ebisu.” She laughed and it eased the tension Sakura was feeling.
Kurenai was very pretty, in that dark secretive way. Her eyes were red, and that oddly enough made her feel somewhat less like a betrayer to her own heart. Kurenai took her hand away and dropped the smile, the dread began to creep up Sakura's spine once more.
“Alright, I don't want to drag this out any longer then I have to, so Sakura have you been with a man?”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she put her humiliation to the back of her mind. “Yes, once. That's all.”
“Alright, that's all you need to say on that then.”
-
Sakura remembered vividly her first time with Sasuke. She'd challenged him, fight to the other's sanity. It had started because she'd lied to herself in that her love of Naruto had come first and the person she needed to prove it to was Sasuke most of all. She didn't need him, not like she had before. So when Naruto had been away, she'd found him on the training fields and she didn't know how much later she was pretending that the tearing pain wasn't bothering her.
Because it wasn't. What hurt was how much he still expected it to. He didn't understand that she wasn't to whimper at his feet, not now, not ever again.
So she met him, in a half unexpected heat, heels digging into dirt, nails in back, in a corrupting urgency. (Met him evenly). He still stared at her in shock when she had the strength to get up and rub spit into the half dried blood stains to remove them, walk the whole off life nothing.
The next day Tsunade had told her to talk to Kurenai, that she would be instructed in the basics. Sakura nodded and did as she was told.
-
“Firstly, we need to get you comfortable in... your body. So you must learn how to remove your clothing.”
Sakura didn't know how Kurenai said these things with such a straight face.
“Your body, in the end, in these particular situations, is all they want. Not your intelligence, hell, not even your pretty face, but your body.”
She took Sakura's hand, tugged her forward. Put her hands on her hips, held her at a short distance. “So you need to hold that body with no shame, that each piece of clothing is both everything and nothing. Imagination is a fine thing, but it's nothing compared to soft warm reality.” Kurenai's words were soft and husky, like she was telling Sakura a secret. “You need to make them savour every piece of clothing because its touched your skin, not hate it. But not wait too long, or they'll get angry.”
Sakura nodded, fingers reaching to the top of her dress, fumbling and shaking, Kurenai knocked her hand away.
“Not like that, slowly, carefully, let your hands shake if want it, if that works best. Remember the person that you are doing this for. Sometimes they like to be led but not forced to a point, others, they'll like to be forced. Think about me, this place, me, yourself, then, and only then when you have taken all those things in, do you reach for a tie or a zip or a buckle.” She let go of Sakura, taking the seat that Sakura had been staring at so she didn't have to deal with the situation.
But Sakura tried to do it, because well, if not for Leaf then... for her. She'd not be scared of this either.
So she closed her hands, raising a hand to her face, pressing her hand to her temple. She thought, of the breeze from the window, cooling the sweat on her skin, smelt about the smell of poppies (sticky sweet opium), tasted the tea left on her skin. Remembered all the secrets Kurenai held in her smile.
So she pulled her hand from where it wrested to the tie holding it back, letting it loose, short as it was. Then let her fingers down, gently brushing her lips as she did her coming to the zipper that was on the front of her dress. Gently she tugged it, fingers shaking a little, but the confidence was seeping up.
And that is how she works, piece by careful piece, till all that is left is her panties.
Kurenai raises her hand, as Sakura goes to pull them off, the gestures her forward with a finger. Hand braced across her chest awkwardly (no, Sakura didn't have Ino's or Hinata's chest. In fact her chest never grew beyond her 14th year...) and stood before the elder woman, who had a cup of warm sake, who eyes were gently, softly, carefully admiring. Like Sakura was a child, or a old lover.
“Efficient, everything about you is... efficient.” Kurenai murmured, “feel no shame in it.”
Hesitently, Sakura dropped her arm from her chest, hooking her pinky on the edge of her plain black panty. Kurenai took the hand away, still watching, anaylising.
Sakura sucked in a surprised breath when Kurenai touched her hip, just above the material. But she gasped when Kurenai ripped the cotton away, then the other side, the material dropped away. Sakura felt her skin blush, but it felt muted and distant and not at all hers. Her eyes dropped, Kurenai smiled, now just sadly.
“Go home, see how you feel. Find me after your next mission.”
Sakura spent ten minutes on the way back in the lingerie section before she grit her teeth and got a set of plain black cotton panties instead of the lacy red and pink that would of cost her more then she really wanted to think about on something that small.
--
3) Found this pic. Fic hit me like a tone of bricks. 8D SasoSakuGaa. But only the SasoSaku bit hit me. GaaSaku will later, THEN, THEN THEY WILL HAVE SEXY TIME. Because I can't say no to a red head, even if my life depended on it. Vampire AU, and much like the original author, I am sick of damsels. I want powerful and blood thirsty women that can sink there teeth into things.
--
The first thing Sasori learnt about Sakura was that she was as vicious as she was merciful, that she worked in the line of irony like underpaid women did in factories. It was a lesson he could not, would not, unlearn.
Because when you lie beaten and bloody, faced with a soft mouth and sharp fangs, you don't usually remark that how such a pretty little gaudy thing could house something so sweetly sinister.
But Sasori remarked it, in little gasping words as she dug too hard nails into his skin, and Sasori learnt it as surely as he learnt his defeat. It didn't matter always 'how', just that it was and all you could do was answer the questions that you were faced with, and the question was not how ironies were the currency of the nosferatu.
Chiyo, of course, was some where behind them, a cold amusement in her voice as she asked what Sakura was doing.
Sakura didn't take her eyes off him. “Giving him a choice.”
There was a cruelty there, but not a malice. She was not doing this for sadism sake. He wondered how much he might resent her after a hundred years or two.
“I offer you to become your art. Pure, eternal. One chance, now, or go as your partner who so despises us did.”
Ah, Deidara, who probably wasn't dead. But Deidara who hated them, the fangs and the blood and the immortality, on a purely artistic stance. Life, he said, is wasted on them. They do not know the aesthetics of an instant, could not fathom it any more then the Gods could. It made sense, if you were Deidara.
“It doesn't make sense...” were his words, coming out even though he was sure it wasn't him who was speaking “...such a little girl. Where... the strength... the will...”
“An undefined eternity is not something you face in weakness, it breaks you.”
His vision was getting fuzzy, his body feeling so tired. Blearily, with the small part of his body that was working, he realised she hadn't answered his question. There was only one way he was going to find out.
“I'll do it.” He murmured, things starting to fade.
Sakura took her teeth to her wrist, breaking skin to flow blood. The rest, they say, is history.
1)The awkward moment where you dead to tread into the pathetically small Rome fandom and you see JCaesar/OC fics and an intrinsic part of your soul is chewed up and spat out. All I wanted was some adorable Vorenus/Niobe fluff, BUT NO. FANDOM HAS TO RAPE HISTORY. ;=; as if legit novels haven't done enough of that over the years. I'm not even kidding, there is Vamp!AU, not that I have ever or will ever having anything against AUs... BUT FOR ROME? ;======; Not that I should really judge, as you will see below, I need to be flayed.
2) I'm sickity sick. But Easter was all day. I got a toblerone. It is triangular. I am saving it till I can taste it properly (everything tastes like crap when I am sick). Thus I have been clinging to spicey foods because they actually taste like things. And then you find a perfectly acceptable snack of salami, and your step-dad decides to steal it, even though he can taste other things. But I have found some chilli flavoured chips, so I am nibbling them at the moment.
Fic Stuff:
1) I want Naruto x Rome crossover. LIKE BURNING. I DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I WANT IT. At most it would be Vorenus half convinced he landed in the land of the Gods and Pullo being a massive fucking troll with Naruto. Also Vorenus would have half a romance with Kurenai. And Pullo with Anko (which would be filled with the crazy all over the place sex). And them just poking at each others culture. Also the amusement of sticking Vorenus and Gaara next to each other, as Vorenus is a slightly more honourable slightly less crazy Gaara. IT WOULD BE AMAZING AND YET NOT. BECAUSE NO ONE WOULD READ IT. So you get this half a fic intro:
--
The first thing Vorenus was sure of, was that there was warm hands on his chest. Warm, tingly hands.
Thieves! He sat bolt up right, taking the hands touching his face and chest in a firm grip.
To his surprise, it wasn't a thief, or at least not what he was expecting a thief to look like.
It was just a girl, almost on womanhood, with wide shocked eyes, green he noted. But the shock faded quickly.
“Calm down.” she snapped, trying to tug her hands back, but Vorenus grip held firm.
“Who are you?”
“... Sakura Haruno, now if don't mind, I was in the middle of trying to heal you. You've been laying out in this desert for I don't know how many hours and if I don't finish you are going to die of heat exhaustion. Your friend isn't much better.”
Pullo! How could he forget.
“Is he alright?” his mouth felt fuzzy and he dimly registered his need for water.
“He's fine, the other medic is working on him.”
“... Where are we?”
“Wind, or outside it, but at least a days run from Fire country.”
“What?” She wasn't making any sense.
“You're hurting me!” she tugged at his hand where his grip was getting tighter in his frustration.
“Sakura is something wrong?” A man appeared behind her, tall, grey hair, face half masked. Vorenus eyed him warily, letting the girl go.
“Difficult patient, that's all.”
The girl was glaring at him furiously, rubbing her wrists. Who ever she was, she held some respect, because the man nodded and left them again.
“Now if you are done being difficult.” she put a hand to his shoulder, pressing him down.
Obediently, he went, but not for long, first he had a moment of shock, then confusion, then back to shock. Her hands were... glowing? And against all odds he did start to feel better.
“W-what are you?”
She frowned, apparently still not liking his interruptions. “A healer, have you never seen one of us before?” Her tone was sarcastic and she didn't look away from her work.
He said nothing, apparently wherever this place was, Fire, Wind, somewhere that was definitely not anywhere near Rome, Greece or Egypt, and girls could heal just by touching their hands glow and touching them to another persons chest.
Where on Gaia's green earth was he?
--
2) I found this digging through my folders. It was a KureSaku (because more Yuuri, just in general yo'). It hit all my student teacher kinks (judge me later). It was kinda Sakura needed to learn the more uh, subtle acts of seduction kinda fic...
--
Lesson I. This vain cruelty, hardly becomes me.
Sakura was ringing her hands as she waited for Kurenai to answer the door, alternating with tugging at the hair that was creeping longer these days. (I need to get that cut again. I'll go see Ino soon). Much easier to think of absent things then this (God if Naruto knew...). She counted the second till the door opened, hoping to drag it out. Tonguing the cut on the roof of her mouth, scratching at the nail polish on her fingers, scrunching the material of her casual dress. (If casual meant a plain version of what she wore as a child, and since when did she only own three of these?)
When it did, she stayed there only because of duty, the sweat that had been building up in the summer heat turned cold again and as Kurenai let her over the threshold into the house. Inside the house it was cooler, a breeze was blowing from a wide window, where in poppies bloomed which she could vaguely through a thin opaque white curtain. A touch on the shoulder led her to the couch where she sat down and took up a close watch of the carpet. Again there was a touch on her shoulder and Kurenai sat next to her.
“Don't worry so much, we all have to do this at some point. Be thankful, I could be Ebisu.” She laughed and it eased the tension Sakura was feeling.
Kurenai was very pretty, in that dark secretive way. Her eyes were red, and that oddly enough made her feel somewhat less like a betrayer to her own heart. Kurenai took her hand away and dropped the smile, the dread began to creep up Sakura's spine once more.
“Alright, I don't want to drag this out any longer then I have to, so Sakura have you been with a man?”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she put her humiliation to the back of her mind. “Yes, once. That's all.”
“Alright, that's all you need to say on that then.”
-
Sakura remembered vividly her first time with Sasuke. She'd challenged him, fight to the other's sanity. It had started because she'd lied to herself in that her love of Naruto had come first and the person she needed to prove it to was Sasuke most of all. She didn't need him, not like she had before. So when Naruto had been away, she'd found him on the training fields and she didn't know how much later she was pretending that the tearing pain wasn't bothering her.
Because it wasn't. What hurt was how much he still expected it to. He didn't understand that she wasn't to whimper at his feet, not now, not ever again.
So she met him, in a half unexpected heat, heels digging into dirt, nails in back, in a corrupting urgency. (Met him evenly). He still stared at her in shock when she had the strength to get up and rub spit into the half dried blood stains to remove them, walk the whole off life nothing.
The next day Tsunade had told her to talk to Kurenai, that she would be instructed in the basics. Sakura nodded and did as she was told.
-
“Firstly, we need to get you comfortable in... your body. So you must learn how to remove your clothing.”
Sakura didn't know how Kurenai said these things with such a straight face.
“Your body, in the end, in these particular situations, is all they want. Not your intelligence, hell, not even your pretty face, but your body.”
She took Sakura's hand, tugged her forward. Put her hands on her hips, held her at a short distance. “So you need to hold that body with no shame, that each piece of clothing is both everything and nothing. Imagination is a fine thing, but it's nothing compared to soft warm reality.” Kurenai's words were soft and husky, like she was telling Sakura a secret. “You need to make them savour every piece of clothing because its touched your skin, not hate it. But not wait too long, or they'll get angry.”
Sakura nodded, fingers reaching to the top of her dress, fumbling and shaking, Kurenai knocked her hand away.
“Not like that, slowly, carefully, let your hands shake if want it, if that works best. Remember the person that you are doing this for. Sometimes they like to be led but not forced to a point, others, they'll like to be forced. Think about me, this place, me, yourself, then, and only then when you have taken all those things in, do you reach for a tie or a zip or a buckle.” She let go of Sakura, taking the seat that Sakura had been staring at so she didn't have to deal with the situation.
But Sakura tried to do it, because well, if not for Leaf then... for her. She'd not be scared of this either.
So she closed her hands, raising a hand to her face, pressing her hand to her temple. She thought, of the breeze from the window, cooling the sweat on her skin, smelt about the smell of poppies (sticky sweet opium), tasted the tea left on her skin. Remembered all the secrets Kurenai held in her smile.
So she pulled her hand from where it wrested to the tie holding it back, letting it loose, short as it was. Then let her fingers down, gently brushing her lips as she did her coming to the zipper that was on the front of her dress. Gently she tugged it, fingers shaking a little, but the confidence was seeping up.
And that is how she works, piece by careful piece, till all that is left is her panties.
Kurenai raises her hand, as Sakura goes to pull them off, the gestures her forward with a finger. Hand braced across her chest awkwardly (no, Sakura didn't have Ino's or Hinata's chest. In fact her chest never grew beyond her 14th year...) and stood before the elder woman, who had a cup of warm sake, who eyes were gently, softly, carefully admiring. Like Sakura was a child, or a old lover.
“Efficient, everything about you is... efficient.” Kurenai murmured, “feel no shame in it.”
Hesitently, Sakura dropped her arm from her chest, hooking her pinky on the edge of her plain black panty. Kurenai took the hand away, still watching, anaylising.
Sakura sucked in a surprised breath when Kurenai touched her hip, just above the material. But she gasped when Kurenai ripped the cotton away, then the other side, the material dropped away. Sakura felt her skin blush, but it felt muted and distant and not at all hers. Her eyes dropped, Kurenai smiled, now just sadly.
“Go home, see how you feel. Find me after your next mission.”
Sakura spent ten minutes on the way back in the lingerie section before she grit her teeth and got a set of plain black cotton panties instead of the lacy red and pink that would of cost her more then she really wanted to think about on something that small.
--
3) Found this pic. Fic hit me like a tone of bricks. 8D SasoSakuGaa. But only the SasoSaku bit hit me. GaaSaku will later, THEN, THEN THEY WILL HAVE SEXY TIME. Because I can't say no to a red head, even if my life depended on it. Vampire AU, and much like the original author, I am sick of damsels. I want powerful and blood thirsty women that can sink there teeth into things.
--
The first thing Sasori learnt about Sakura was that she was as vicious as she was merciful, that she worked in the line of irony like underpaid women did in factories. It was a lesson he could not, would not, unlearn.
Because when you lie beaten and bloody, faced with a soft mouth and sharp fangs, you don't usually remark that how such a pretty little gaudy thing could house something so sweetly sinister.
But Sasori remarked it, in little gasping words as she dug too hard nails into his skin, and Sasori learnt it as surely as he learnt his defeat. It didn't matter always 'how', just that it was and all you could do was answer the questions that you were faced with, and the question was not how ironies were the currency of the nosferatu.
Chiyo, of course, was some where behind them, a cold amusement in her voice as she asked what Sakura was doing.
Sakura didn't take her eyes off him. “Giving him a choice.”
There was a cruelty there, but not a malice. She was not doing this for sadism sake. He wondered how much he might resent her after a hundred years or two.
“I offer you to become your art. Pure, eternal. One chance, now, or go as your partner who so despises us did.”
Ah, Deidara, who probably wasn't dead. But Deidara who hated them, the fangs and the blood and the immortality, on a purely artistic stance. Life, he said, is wasted on them. They do not know the aesthetics of an instant, could not fathom it any more then the Gods could. It made sense, if you were Deidara.
“It doesn't make sense...” were his words, coming out even though he was sure it wasn't him who was speaking “...such a little girl. Where... the strength... the will...”
“An undefined eternity is not something you face in weakness, it breaks you.”
His vision was getting fuzzy, his body feeling so tired. Blearily, with the small part of his body that was working, he realised she hadn't answered his question. There was only one way he was going to find out.
“I'll do it.” He murmured, things starting to fade.
Sakura took her teeth to her wrist, breaking skin to flow blood. The rest, they say, is history.