Happy New Year greetings, some random blah and fanfics XD
2007! XD Finally a new year for me to start over again procrastinating! omg!. While everyone were busy jumping and making New Year's resolutions, I was moping around my room wishing my short vacation to extend due to exhaustion. Unfortunately, I have to go back to school and get to haul my ass to work.
Currently, I am stationed in the Operating Room in the MCU hospital. Problem, there is hardly any operations in the area. I need some case, darn it!
~
Hmmm, funny. Just when I need to study for the coming board exams, there are a lot of series arriving in my closet that I recently collected. omgwatiamgoingtodo?ineedtopaaasss!huhuhuhu! For example, Death Note is making me crazy. My D. Grayman DVD of six episodes rots in my case. I just finished watching Trinity Blood. There is a new Chrno Crusade Manga. I want to see Vincent in the Dirge of Cerberus (again. And again. And again.). I am on the lookout for the last episodes of Blood Plus (heard that Diva's defeat is caused by being preggy. XD Man, to kill a powerful, seducing chiropteran is by her hormonal changes!) and cannot find some Princess Tutu episodes even when I tracked the vicinity of Metro Manila.
Yes, I really, really need to study for the coming board exams. Help? People?
Why is it all of them are coming out in waves? (Naruto is coming out in Feb? WHY?)
~
I promised myself that I would stop writing fanfics for the meanwhile because my grades are hardly rising up from the passing mark. I did. And I missed it terribly. Because not only I was so busy, I was also disturbed by the vast amount of ideas that invaded my sleep. This happened during my vacation. And yeah, frequently too. Especially when I was reading my textbooks. (Yeees, I am really lazy.ToT)
I failed to greet many people 'Merry Christmas' or 'Happy New Year'. So I thought to give something to them. Hope you like it, guys.
Invitations
Word count:627
Series/Pairing: Naruto/Sasusaku
Rating:PG13
The first time he reads the three words and the signed name, he merely blinks.
The second time, he contemplates if he will throw it to the nature-friendly waste can.
The third time, and the last one, he decides to keep the irritating piece of trash.
He clutches the piece of paper in his hand, exasperation written in his coal eyes. In a heartbeat, he starts to fold it carefully in order to keep it again, safe and secure.
"What's that?" The young woman of nineteen springs old asked him, olive eyes brimming with laughter and smiles as her light auburn tresses sways gently from the crown of her head. He merely shrugs the curious inquiry and hides it inside his pocket, careful that she might not grab it from him in surprise.
"A letter?" A pout made its way to her lips. He walks on briskly, stepping a foot away her as their only distance. "A love letter?" She is unconscious of that petulant expression that creases her cheeks which his peripheral sight caught.
"Yes." He replies swiftly and nearly smirks in arrogance at her quick, distraught frown. He can so easily affect her in so many ways, this strange friend of his.
"From who?" She banters, fist clenching and her teeth gritting, as the girl follows behind with a threatening book to be thrown. Of course, she is overreacting to imagine that he is again stalked by some fanatical, love-stricken student, be it male or female.
It was rather odd, said the one who call himself as his 'friend', that a woman--'his' woman, to quote that stupid blonde--is always the one who defiantly defends his honor, his dignity and worse, his masculinity (He will never know why God bestowed him with such feminine facial features).
Tch, annoying creatures.
"You." He breezily answers, and manages to grab the book that falls limply from her hands. He snorts at the stupefied silence and the gaping, bewildered mouth that is already trying to speak.
"I-I did not give you any love letters," She flusters, turns beet crimson and flails her arms in front of him to hide the embarrassment in her face. "Never will I give you one for the rest of my life, you egoistic chauvinist!"
"Yes, you did." An easy counter from her expected response and she falters to argue any further when he adds thoughtfully. "Asking for a date is counted as a love letter."
"I just asked for lunch!" Her voice nearly escalates into an indignated squeak. Interesting.
"Yes, you did." He asserts and tilts his head to look at her slightly curious, ruffling the dark cowlick strands against his white collar. "Why?"
"I-I just felt like eating with someone--other than females (and boisterous blonde males), okay?" A sigh and then she glances at him pointedly. “Unfortunately, you lose your appetite when girls gather around and keep on chatting about you."
"Me?"
"Stop smirking!" It is truly endearing to watch her glower fiercely. A frustrated growl from her makes the whole scene more comical. "Honestly, I do not know why every woman in earth adores the very dirt of your soles, but it is wearing me out."
"Can you give a suggestion to stop it?" He raises a perfect, ebony eyebrow near his hairline. "I'm rather tired of it, too."
A pause.
"I told you, get a girlfriend."
Yes, it was just as easy to get a lunch from you. His thoughts provides with sarcasm.
Instead saying the thoughts out loud, he graces her with, "Thanks, I will get one."
"Who?"
"We'll take lunch." He grabbed that pale hand, pulled her to pace quickly and muttered, "Then we can prove that blonde idiot that I am a man."
_______________________
Of Lunches and Conversations
Word count:874
Series/Pairing: Naruto/Sasusaku (though, Sasuke isn't here.)
Rating:PG13
"Am I in love?"
A choking gasp, a sputter of rice and an orange chicken ball went to waste.
"Ex-" It was followed by a series of coughs. "Excuse me?"
In the middle of a perfectly (smooched-off) lunch, that exasperating oblivious girl just have to ask that extremely obvious question dramatically.
She huffed indignantly when the pair of disgusted olive eyes glared at her. In response, she only grabbed the expensive pink napkins along the lunch box, smirking when she find faint blue patterns of sakura blossoms imprinted along the thin paper.
"Hey! They were given to me!" The culprit ignored her still and wiped her face decorated with white grains. Thank goodness they were in the secluded shadows of the school grounds near the towering trees or else her reputation would be forever damaged and mangled at her current state. "And you are not deaf, blonde pig! Can you just answer the damn question?"
"Why do you ask then, dear?" She demurely patted the paper towel on her cheeks, discerning her companion with an interested countenance.
"Some arrogant moron asked me" The rose tresses complemented her flushed cheeks. “And he mocked me when I denied it."
It was a shame indeed that this female genius and in position of being an essential cheat mate, err, honor student in the batch, was this clueless.
"Perhaps, he is right." A wry grin made way to the popular extroverted girl as she noted the way her best friend squirmed under her observation. "You have zits."
A horrified pause.
"You have been missing sleep, I think."
A sputter of protest without any comprehensible words forming.
"You have been spacing out lately."
"No!" A monosyllabic gasp.
"And you have been lying to yourself more frequently than before."
"Ino--!"
"That was a growl already? I see." She said amidst the warning signals went off beneath her golden hair. "Besides, it's about time! You are turning twenty, after all, cranky old woman."
"Twenty," Sakura, in all her restraints for burying her lunch companion underneath the tree, merely responded dangerously. "is barely getting old."
"But you are cranky right now!" Ino prompted with a spare takoyaki stolen from the pink container with much gusto. "Only spinsters, old aunts and never-had-boyfriends-in-entire-womanhood are cranky."
"Prove it!"
"Big-busted sensei of yours."
"She had a fiancé!"
"Anko-sempai."
"If everyone keeps looking at your bust instead of your face, let's see who's cranky!"
"Shizune-sempai, then."
"You suggested," Green eyes rolled in disbelief. "to roast Tonton."
"Correction." A perfectly manicured finger waggled in front of the pink-haired friend's nose. "It was my boyfriend. And how would we know that people still kept pigs as lovable pets?"
"Brad Pitt does." She countered.
"Yech, hate the guy." Ino now sniffed disdainfully. "I'd rather have Sasuke-kun."
"I know, damn it." Sakura muttered as she pouted with her chopsticks at the point of her pouting mouth. Rolling her eyes, her voice groaned, knowing that Ino always make the whole dialogue towards that insufferable human. Prompting to cut the following words that will come out from the blonde woman, she blurted out. "Can we change the topic? Plea--"
She miscalculated where the ridiculous exchange was heading.
"There is really something going on between the two of you!"
"Wha-?" Stammering incomprehensibly, Sakura tried to survive herself from choking from her own saliva. "Does the rumor grapevine travels this fast? I only ate with him yesterday!"
"He made you his girlfriend!" Ino whispered in disbelief. "Didn't you know?"
"I do-don't understand." She cannot put anything that happened yesterday that already made them an item. If Ino has gained this knowledge from the thriving, treacherous gossips around the school, Sakura can never look anyone in the eye again.
"He invited you to lunch. He stalked you home, and most obvious point of all," The blonde pointed all of this by counting them off with her fingers. "He followed you protectively when he escorted you to school!" An incredulous look on Ino's expression made it more frightening to impending realization that those actions were coming to everyone's minds. "It is bound to notice by the population, forehead girl!"
"You got that all wrong!" Interjecting to the humiliating tirade, the trembling fist that Sakura tried to hide now slammed on the ground. "It was me who invited him to lunch!" Her pale index finger pointed to herself (and ignored the golden eyebrow that rose up towards the hairline). "I walked with him towards home because it was on the way." She jabbed it towards Ino's chest. "And it was by coincidence that he walks three feet away from me this morning!"
"You do know that you are blushing, forehead girl?"
There was the sudden rush of feeling inside to beat her traitorous ex-friend.
"Well," The interfering, meddling, pig chuckled. "I don't blame you."
"About what?"
"For being in love, silly!" Ino slapped her shoulder amusingly
Sakura swore when she heard 'Shannarooo!' screaming in her throbbing head.
"Tell then, to the 'arrogant moron' who asked you," That grin Ino was making was sinister. “That he's right."
Instead, the stupefied lass only managed to shove the tomato onigiris to that big-mouthed woman from the stolen bento. They were his favorites, after all. “Shut the hell up, Ino”
_______________________
Bleed
Word count:139
Series/Pairing: Naruto/Sasusaku
Rating:R
In her eyes, she only sees the shattered remains of a well-polished wooden frame and a blood splattered photo of a group she once had.
He stands before her, the dark-coated sword drawn between them. A pair of ebony and crimson pinwheels pinning her to the ground, her knees crashing on the soft earth. Swirls of crystalline saline streaks on her pallid face, making her wonder why her limbs weakened when she knew that her feet were still carrying her earlier.
Impassively, she knows he scrutinizes her. Waiting on what she would do next.
It was predictable.
"Sasuke-kun, I still lo--"
She was cut short when a foot steps on that precious stilled memory.
And he leans on her ear.
"Thank you." Her arms wrap on his pale neck and she feels that the moon was crescent again.
_______________________
Annoy
Word count:181
Series/Pairing: Ouran High School Host Club/TamakiHaruhi
Rating:PG13
She glared at the monitor, its almost blinding light reflecting from the thick frames of glass starting to glide downwards the bridge of her nose. It was absolutely pointless to try winning any argument with this idiotic, obnoxious pompous rich bastard over this equally ridiculous method of communication.
(Granted that the laptop and the line were freely given by the host club, she would still be angry. Those real rich bastards, money doesn't grow on trees! Besides, she was sure that if her debt was not paid some years ago, she would have probably declined this.)
A sign popped up. She was inclined to ignore it. And block the user from her cyber existence forever to the oblivion.
But then, better get over this and be done with.
A click and the screen popped with a moving image of overly reacting, frenzied blond man in his twenties practically shoving his muscled torso, his toned pectorals to the poor web cam.
"Haaruuhiiiii! How is my daughter doing?"
"I'm not your daughter, sempai."
"Nor am I your senior anymore, my darling sweet fiancée!"
_______________________
Adagio
Word count:18 to 193, A total of 3,459 (drabbles)
Series/Pairing: Princess Tutu/FakirAhiru
Rating:PG13
(Going to write about many of these, posting the first 10)
1. audience
A graceful curtsy then begins a haunting melody.
Her movements are fluid and it mesmerizes the crowd, completely drawing their gazes at her. White limbs arches like reeds against some invisible breeze as palms, open and accepting, receives the dark horizon.
The waning moon is her spotlight. The ominous stars are her torches.
Their astonished breaths are her music. Their silent hearts are her stage.
The strength to give her deserved applause is forgotten, as her story---a stream of unspoken words, a speech of heartfelt gestures--unfolds in a single performance.
"That was wonderful."
"Amazing"
The crowd departs and she descends upon the make shift stage, her eyes still searching for him.
2. roles (correlated with drabble 1)
As a knight, it is his job to be prepared for the worst.
Battles were won, calamities were prevented and problems were solved because of expecting such things to happen.
He waits at the bottom of the wooden stairs.
He waits for the curtains to finally fall.
So when he sees her, attempting to run towards him from the stairs, he expects her to trip.
Because no matter how exceptional of a ballerina she has become, she is still Ahiru.
Asher knight, it is his job to catch her.
3. wish
In fairytales, wishes always come true.
So Ahiru never forgets to look for a swift white blur in the night while Fakir swirls his quill in ink.
4. touch
Teal orbs glazes as they reflect her fire lit image. Her arms wrap around her slender legs, gathering them close to her chest. She nestles herself on the rug comfortably, as she sits before the fire covered in bundles of thick blankets and unbound coral tresses.
Was it worth it? He asks her one winter night.
Her yawn freezes half way. Huh?
Turning you human.
Why? She lifts her head curiously from her knees.
Because, He harshly responds. I wrote this
This is a dream.
He only looks at the existence of pain, of regret, of wounds and bruises that never heal.
This is false.
He cursed her to become a human. To stain her. She was an innocent, after all.
This is wrong.
Wavering crystalline azure orbs gaze at her feet.
The pink strands cover them from his stare.
He unconsciously reaches to tuck a strand away from her.
The ink-smeared calluses on the fingers were rough on her cheek.
This is real.
She can feel them better with skin than feathers.
This is true.
Yes. She firmly answers, determinedly seeing things differently from his perspective.It's worth it.
This is right.
5. accomplishment
He stands before his bed--no, it's now hers-- after realizing what he has done.
He did it.
6. lies
"What is your problem with my braid?!" She screams at him one (annoying) day, as he again yanked that tempting appendage from her head again.
The fact that when he does, it always sparkle her blue eyes into blazes making her breathtaking. It is also something that he knows he can only do and can get away with it. He thinks of these things as the appendage trails from the edge of his sight, revealing to him that the innermost thoughts and desires that he suppresed seems to be the truthful answers to her simple question.
(Too childish. It was already enough to have one brat in their serious relationship, damn it.)
But half-truths will suffice for her impending wrath, perhaps.
"It distracts me, moron."
7. reality
Straws turn into gold.
Frogs turn into princes.
Swans turn into princesses.
Even ducks turn into swans.
So why, Fakir asks Aotoa in disbelief,is it impossible to turn a duck into a girl?
8. shoes
When she hides her dainty feet with beautiful lace shoes, he knows that they are a mask of her pain. She covers them, layers upon layers of plasters on her blistered skin to avoid the blood in staining the shoes he bought.
So when he tells her to remove them in order to cure this, he would not hear the end of her protest to take her feet in his hands.
9. reminders
She flaps her way towards his feet as he writes on his desk, again striving to achieve the one fiction he would want to come true.
"Quack?"
("Fakir?")
"I'm adding clothes." He flushes, a scowl set on his lips. "Let me finish, idiot."
10. denial
She wants to cut her hair.
He vehemently protests to that bird-brained idiot's idea.
"No."
"It suits me! "
"No."
"It even saves us some soap!"
"No." He repeats, and grinds his teeth at her insistent stubborness.
"If I don't," Ahiru waves the scissors dangerously and positions the blades to the start of her tight braid. A silver light lined the ends of her eyes. "I won't be able dance more perfectly."
"It's not a burden, Ahiru."
He knows what she thinks.
He does not need her to be graceful, to be trouble-free or to be practical.
He does not need her to be a princess.
"What? But Fakir, be reasona--!"
Heatedly, he took the scissors from her.
_______________________
Thanks guys! Rabu-rabu? (It's a first! Ahahaha! Write very short drabbles!)
Currently, I am stationed in the Operating Room in the MCU hospital. Problem, there is hardly any operations in the area. I need some case, darn it!
~
Hmmm, funny. Just when I need to study for the coming board exams, there are a lot of series arriving in my closet that I recently collected. omgwatiamgoingtodo?ineedtopaaasss!huhuhuhu! For example, Death Note is making me crazy. My D. Grayman DVD of six episodes rots in my case. I just finished watching Trinity Blood. There is a new Chrno Crusade Manga. I want to see Vincent in the Dirge of Cerberus (again. And again. And again.). I am on the lookout for the last episodes of Blood Plus (heard that Diva's defeat is caused by being preggy. XD Man, to kill a powerful, seducing chiropteran is by her hormonal changes!) and cannot find some Princess Tutu episodes even when I tracked the vicinity of Metro Manila.
Yes, I really, really need to study for the coming board exams. Help? People?
Why is it all of them are coming out in waves? (Naruto is coming out in Feb? WHY?)
~
I promised myself that I would stop writing fanfics for the meanwhile because my grades are hardly rising up from the passing mark. I did. And I missed it terribly. Because not only I was so busy, I was also disturbed by the vast amount of ideas that invaded my sleep. This happened during my vacation. And yeah, frequently too. Especially when I was reading my textbooks. (Yeees, I am really lazy.ToT)
I failed to greet many people 'Merry Christmas' or 'Happy New Year'. So I thought to give something to them. Hope you like it, guys.
Invitations
Word count:627
Series/Pairing: Naruto/Sasusaku
Rating:PG13
The first time he reads the three words and the signed name, he merely blinks.
The second time, he contemplates if he will throw it to the nature-friendly waste can.
The third time, and the last one, he decides to keep the irritating piece of trash.
He clutches the piece of paper in his hand, exasperation written in his coal eyes. In a heartbeat, he starts to fold it carefully in order to keep it again, safe and secure.
"What's that?" The young woman of nineteen springs old asked him, olive eyes brimming with laughter and smiles as her light auburn tresses sways gently from the crown of her head. He merely shrugs the curious inquiry and hides it inside his pocket, careful that she might not grab it from him in surprise.
"A letter?" A pout made its way to her lips. He walks on briskly, stepping a foot away her as their only distance. "A love letter?" She is unconscious of that petulant expression that creases her cheeks which his peripheral sight caught.
"Yes." He replies swiftly and nearly smirks in arrogance at her quick, distraught frown. He can so easily affect her in so many ways, this strange friend of his.
"From who?" She banters, fist clenching and her teeth gritting, as the girl follows behind with a threatening book to be thrown. Of course, she is overreacting to imagine that he is again stalked by some fanatical, love-stricken student, be it male or female.
It was rather odd, said the one who call himself as his 'friend', that a woman--'his' woman, to quote that stupid blonde--is always the one who defiantly defends his honor, his dignity and worse, his masculinity (He will never know why God bestowed him with such feminine facial features).
Tch, annoying creatures.
"You." He breezily answers, and manages to grab the book that falls limply from her hands. He snorts at the stupefied silence and the gaping, bewildered mouth that is already trying to speak.
"I-I did not give you any love letters," She flusters, turns beet crimson and flails her arms in front of him to hide the embarrassment in her face. "Never will I give you one for the rest of my life, you egoistic chauvinist!"
"Yes, you did." An easy counter from her expected response and she falters to argue any further when he adds thoughtfully. "Asking for a date is counted as a love letter."
"I just asked for lunch!" Her voice nearly escalates into an indignated squeak. Interesting.
"Yes, you did." He asserts and tilts his head to look at her slightly curious, ruffling the dark cowlick strands against his white collar. "Why?"
"I-I just felt like eating with someone--other than females (and boisterous blonde males), okay?" A sigh and then she glances at him pointedly. “Unfortunately, you lose your appetite when girls gather around and keep on chatting about you."
"Me?"
"Stop smirking!" It is truly endearing to watch her glower fiercely. A frustrated growl from her makes the whole scene more comical. "Honestly, I do not know why every woman in earth adores the very dirt of your soles, but it is wearing me out."
"Can you give a suggestion to stop it?" He raises a perfect, ebony eyebrow near his hairline. "I'm rather tired of it, too."
A pause.
"I told you, get a girlfriend."
Yes, it was just as easy to get a lunch from you. His thoughts provides with sarcasm.
Instead saying the thoughts out loud, he graces her with, "Thanks, I will get one."
"Who?"
"We'll take lunch." He grabbed that pale hand, pulled her to pace quickly and muttered, "Then we can prove that blonde idiot that I am a man."
_______________________
Of Lunches and Conversations
Word count:874
Series/Pairing: Naruto/Sasusaku (though, Sasuke isn't here.)
Rating:PG13
"Am I in love?"
A choking gasp, a sputter of rice and an orange chicken ball went to waste.
"Ex-" It was followed by a series of coughs. "Excuse me?"
In the middle of a perfectly (smooched-off) lunch, that exasperating oblivious girl just have to ask that extremely obvious question dramatically.
She huffed indignantly when the pair of disgusted olive eyes glared at her. In response, she only grabbed the expensive pink napkins along the lunch box, smirking when she find faint blue patterns of sakura blossoms imprinted along the thin paper.
"Hey! They were given to me!" The culprit ignored her still and wiped her face decorated with white grains. Thank goodness they were in the secluded shadows of the school grounds near the towering trees or else her reputation would be forever damaged and mangled at her current state. "And you are not deaf, blonde pig! Can you just answer the damn question?"
"Why do you ask then, dear?" She demurely patted the paper towel on her cheeks, discerning her companion with an interested countenance.
"Some arrogant moron asked me" The rose tresses complemented her flushed cheeks. “And he mocked me when I denied it."
It was a shame indeed that this female genius and in position of being an essential cheat mate, err, honor student in the batch, was this clueless.
"Perhaps, he is right." A wry grin made way to the popular extroverted girl as she noted the way her best friend squirmed under her observation. "You have zits."
A horrified pause.
"You have been missing sleep, I think."
A sputter of protest without any comprehensible words forming.
"You have been spacing out lately."
"No!" A monosyllabic gasp.
"And you have been lying to yourself more frequently than before."
"Ino--!"
"That was a growl already? I see." She said amidst the warning signals went off beneath her golden hair. "Besides, it's about time! You are turning twenty, after all, cranky old woman."
"Twenty," Sakura, in all her restraints for burying her lunch companion underneath the tree, merely responded dangerously. "is barely getting old."
"But you are cranky right now!" Ino prompted with a spare takoyaki stolen from the pink container with much gusto. "Only spinsters, old aunts and never-had-boyfriends-in-entire-womanhood are cranky."
"Prove it!"
"Big-busted sensei of yours."
"She had a fiancé!"
"Anko-sempai."
"If everyone keeps looking at your bust instead of your face, let's see who's cranky!"
"Shizune-sempai, then."
"You suggested," Green eyes rolled in disbelief. "to roast Tonton."
"Correction." A perfectly manicured finger waggled in front of the pink-haired friend's nose. "It was my boyfriend. And how would we know that people still kept pigs as lovable pets?"
"Brad Pitt does." She countered.
"Yech, hate the guy." Ino now sniffed disdainfully. "I'd rather have Sasuke-kun."
"I know, damn it." Sakura muttered as she pouted with her chopsticks at the point of her pouting mouth. Rolling her eyes, her voice groaned, knowing that Ino always make the whole dialogue towards that insufferable human. Prompting to cut the following words that will come out from the blonde woman, she blurted out. "Can we change the topic? Plea--"
She miscalculated where the ridiculous exchange was heading.
"There is really something going on between the two of you!"
"Wha-?" Stammering incomprehensibly, Sakura tried to survive herself from choking from her own saliva. "Does the rumor grapevine travels this fast? I only ate with him yesterday!"
"He made you his girlfriend!" Ino whispered in disbelief. "Didn't you know?"
"I do-don't understand." She cannot put anything that happened yesterday that already made them an item. If Ino has gained this knowledge from the thriving, treacherous gossips around the school, Sakura can never look anyone in the eye again.
"He invited you to lunch. He stalked you home, and most obvious point of all," The blonde pointed all of this by counting them off with her fingers. "He followed you protectively when he escorted you to school!" An incredulous look on Ino's expression made it more frightening to impending realization that those actions were coming to everyone's minds. "It is bound to notice by the population, forehead girl!"
"You got that all wrong!" Interjecting to the humiliating tirade, the trembling fist that Sakura tried to hide now slammed on the ground. "It was me who invited him to lunch!" Her pale index finger pointed to herself (and ignored the golden eyebrow that rose up towards the hairline). "I walked with him towards home because it was on the way." She jabbed it towards Ino's chest. "And it was by coincidence that he walks three feet away from me this morning!"
"You do know that you are blushing, forehead girl?"
There was the sudden rush of feeling inside to beat her traitorous ex-friend.
"Well," The interfering, meddling, pig chuckled. "I don't blame you."
"About what?"
"For being in love, silly!" Ino slapped her shoulder amusingly
Sakura swore when she heard 'Shannarooo!' screaming in her throbbing head.
"Tell then, to the 'arrogant moron' who asked you," That grin Ino was making was sinister. “That he's right."
Instead, the stupefied lass only managed to shove the tomato onigiris to that big-mouthed woman from the stolen bento. They were his favorites, after all. “Shut the hell up, Ino”
_______________________
Bleed
Word count:139
Series/Pairing: Naruto/Sasusaku
Rating:R
In her eyes, she only sees the shattered remains of a well-polished wooden frame and a blood splattered photo of a group she once had.
He stands before her, the dark-coated sword drawn between them. A pair of ebony and crimson pinwheels pinning her to the ground, her knees crashing on the soft earth. Swirls of crystalline saline streaks on her pallid face, making her wonder why her limbs weakened when she knew that her feet were still carrying her earlier.
Impassively, she knows he scrutinizes her. Waiting on what she would do next.
It was predictable.
"Sasuke-kun, I still lo--"
She was cut short when a foot steps on that precious stilled memory.
And he leans on her ear.
"Thank you." Her arms wrap on his pale neck and she feels that the moon was crescent again.
_______________________
Annoy
Word count:181
Series/Pairing: Ouran High School Host Club/TamakiHaruhi
Rating:PG13
She glared at the monitor, its almost blinding light reflecting from the thick frames of glass starting to glide downwards the bridge of her nose. It was absolutely pointless to try winning any argument with this idiotic, obnoxious pompous rich bastard over this equally ridiculous method of communication.
(Granted that the laptop and the line were freely given by the host club, she would still be angry. Those real rich bastards, money doesn't grow on trees! Besides, she was sure that if her debt was not paid some years ago, she would have probably declined this.)
A sign popped up. She was inclined to ignore it. And block the user from her cyber existence forever to the oblivion.
But then, better get over this and be done with.
A click and the screen popped with a moving image of overly reacting, frenzied blond man in his twenties practically shoving his muscled torso, his toned pectorals to the poor web cam.
"Haaruuhiiiii! How is my daughter doing?"
"I'm not your daughter, sempai."
"Nor am I your senior anymore, my darling sweet fiancée!"
_______________________
Adagio
Word count:18 to 193, A total of 3,459 (drabbles)
Series/Pairing: Princess Tutu/FakirAhiru
Rating:PG13
(Going to write about many of these, posting the first 10)
1. audience
A graceful curtsy then begins a haunting melody.
Her movements are fluid and it mesmerizes the crowd, completely drawing their gazes at her. White limbs arches like reeds against some invisible breeze as palms, open and accepting, receives the dark horizon.
The waning moon is her spotlight. The ominous stars are her torches.
Their astonished breaths are her music. Their silent hearts are her stage.
The strength to give her deserved applause is forgotten, as her story---a stream of unspoken words, a speech of heartfelt gestures--unfolds in a single performance.
"That was wonderful."
"Amazing"
The crowd departs and she descends upon the make shift stage, her eyes still searching for him.
2. roles (correlated with drabble 1)
As a knight, it is his job to be prepared for the worst.
Battles were won, calamities were prevented and problems were solved because of expecting such things to happen.
He waits at the bottom of the wooden stairs.
He waits for the curtains to finally fall.
So when he sees her, attempting to run towards him from the stairs, he expects her to trip.
Because no matter how exceptional of a ballerina she has become, she is still Ahiru.
Asher knight, it is his job to catch her.
3. wish
In fairytales, wishes always come true.
So Ahiru never forgets to look for a swift white blur in the night while Fakir swirls his quill in ink.
4. touch
Teal orbs glazes as they reflect her fire lit image. Her arms wrap around her slender legs, gathering them close to her chest. She nestles herself on the rug comfortably, as she sits before the fire covered in bundles of thick blankets and unbound coral tresses.
Was it worth it? He asks her one winter night.
Her yawn freezes half way. Huh?
Turning you human.
Why? She lifts her head curiously from her knees.
Because, He harshly responds. I wrote this
This is a dream.
He only looks at the existence of pain, of regret, of wounds and bruises that never heal.
This is false.
He cursed her to become a human. To stain her. She was an innocent, after all.
This is wrong.
Wavering crystalline azure orbs gaze at her feet.
The pink strands cover them from his stare.
He unconsciously reaches to tuck a strand away from her.
The ink-smeared calluses on the fingers were rough on her cheek.
This is real.
She can feel them better with skin than feathers.
This is true.
Yes. She firmly answers, determinedly seeing things differently from his perspective.It's worth it.
This is right.
5. accomplishment
He stands before his bed--no, it's now hers-- after realizing what he has done.
He did it.
6. lies
"What is your problem with my braid?!" She screams at him one (annoying) day, as he again yanked that tempting appendage from her head again.
The fact that when he does, it always sparkle her blue eyes into blazes making her breathtaking. It is also something that he knows he can only do and can get away with it. He thinks of these things as the appendage trails from the edge of his sight, revealing to him that the innermost thoughts and desires that he suppresed seems to be the truthful answers to her simple question.
(Too childish. It was already enough to have one brat in their serious relationship, damn it.)
But half-truths will suffice for her impending wrath, perhaps.
"It distracts me, moron."
7. reality
Straws turn into gold.
Frogs turn into princes.
Swans turn into princesses.
Even ducks turn into swans.
So why, Fakir asks Aotoa in disbelief,is it impossible to turn a duck into a girl?
8. shoes
When she hides her dainty feet with beautiful lace shoes, he knows that they are a mask of her pain. She covers them, layers upon layers of plasters on her blistered skin to avoid the blood in staining the shoes he bought.
So when he tells her to remove them in order to cure this, he would not hear the end of her protest to take her feet in his hands.
9. reminders
She flaps her way towards his feet as he writes on his desk, again striving to achieve the one fiction he would want to come true.
"Quack?"
("Fakir?")
"I'm adding clothes." He flushes, a scowl set on his lips. "Let me finish, idiot."
10. denial
She wants to cut her hair.
He vehemently protests to that bird-brained idiot's idea.
"No."
"It suits me! "
"No."
"It even saves us some soap!"
"No." He repeats, and grinds his teeth at her insistent stubborness.
"If I don't," Ahiru waves the scissors dangerously and positions the blades to the start of her tight braid. A silver light lined the ends of her eyes. "I won't be able dance more perfectly."
"It's not a burden, Ahiru."
He knows what she thinks.
He does not need her to be graceful, to be trouble-free or to be practical.
He does not need her to be a princess.
"What? But Fakir, be reasona--!"
Heatedly, he took the scissors from her.
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Thanks guys! Rabu-rabu? (It's a first! Ahahaha! Write very short drabbles!)