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Entry tags:
two-sentence drabbles
Here's the lot of them, gathered and compiled. I am a lazy thing and I am also quite enamoured of the chaotic charm of the Word document in which I am storing these, so I'm just going to post them all in the order that they were requested (including the five I originally wrote for Heidi). I'm pretty sure there's at least ONE character name in each one, but if you're confused and want context for any, just let me know :)
There is a terrible gash on Naruto's forehead, snaking into his hairline and bleeding all over his face. Sasuke's own face tingles in an itchy sympathy: he wishes the idiot would wipe the damn blood away.
~
Naruto and Sakura spin themselves into a whirlwhind of shared giddy joy with their realisation that Uchiha Sasuke, prodigal fucking son, loved beyond anything he deserves, does not have to belong to one of them and one of them alone. Tsunade can't smile at them with as much approval as she'd like: she can't stop herself from thinking how did you do that -- how dare you do that -- when we couldn't?
~
"Neji-san," Hinata says, the day her father dies, "I -- I would like it very much if you --"
Neji touches his fingertips to his forehead, a reminder; when he says, "I have never wanted the charity of anyone with your blood," he tries very hard not to notice the way her mouth trembles, the sudden dimming of her chakra's warm flow.
~
Temari tells herself that she only proposed to Shikamaru so that she could finally, finally add him to the list of people who she has managed to render speechless.
"That's a stupid excuse even by your standards," Kankurou tells her, "he hardly says a damn word as it is," and Temari hugs him goodbye because she can't open her arms and embrace the desert.
~
There are ten different places on the body where it is possible to kill someone with a simple suture needle; by the time she turns nineteen, Sakura has treated seven of them, and dealt out five with her own hands.
The only time she hesitated was the first.
~
Instead of sleeping the Doctor transforms and discards in his mind what he would say to the Master if he had the chance (and the universe is both vast and surprising -- it never hurts to be prepared). He would like to think himself capable of saying nothing and walking away, but instead he hears his own plaintive voice saying your compulsion of forced ownership is useless; you never needed to threaten a world or construct a cage to own me entirely.
~
When reality punctures the rigid automatic control that has been keeping her upright for the past two weeks, she is abruptly and coldly furious because either Booth put her through this ordeal in full knowledge of what she would suffer, or because he honestly doesn't know how much she loves him; how for four days she felt as though she was bleeding and bleeding and bleeding inside, as though something vital had been ripped away.
She hits him as hard as she possibly can because the second of these two options hurts her more than the first, and she wishes that it didn’t.
~
The line of them stands thus -- Cavil, another Cavil, himself, Doral, Sharon -- and Leoben blinks twice.
"What are you smiling about?" one of the Cavils asks, and Leoben replies, "I'm just thinking that it's a pity Number Three isn't here."
~
When Caspian looks at Peter his expression says legend and hero and Peter doesn't have the heart to tell him that he has spent months trying to forget the sensations of triumph and authority; that to be admired so openly is somewhere between glorious and a dagger to the heart.
Because when Peter looks at Caspian, two people look at two people: the High King sees a boy who is not so very different to himself, when he was a few years into his reign, and Peter Pevensie sees someone a little older than himself with serious eyes and a beautiful, natural sword-grace.
When Caspian touches Peter on the arm, the force of these identities presses them closer and closer together.
When Peter kisses Caspian he kisses Narnia, and so it feels more like an ending than a beginning.
~
Increasing the temperature of a liquid increases the energy of any gas particles trapped within it, meaning that less and less of the gas can remain dissolved.
Which means, on the aesthetic level, that for all the beauty of refraction in the spheres tossed out by the warming fizz, it's simply a grand concession to loss of identity.
~
"I don't know if I want to get married after all," Angela whispers into his bare chest.
Just as his heart leaps into his throat in a deplorably unanatomical and yet entirely vivid manner, she lifts her wicked eyes to meet his and continues, "I rather like this whole living in sin concept."
~
The backs of Subaru's gloves have faint grey lines that speak of what lies beneath, dusty shadows of pentagrams traced out by the absent troubled movement of his fingers across the fabric. Seishirou follows them with his own fingers, holding the Sumeragi's wrist tight in his other hand, until the glow through the gloves and the glow of Subaru's desperate eyes are equal in vibrancy.
~
During the stage of his sexual development when Naruto flirted with anyone, Ino swept her hair over her shoulder and surprised almost everyone by flirting right back.
Shikamaru, however, was not surprised: he noticed the violence with which Sakura banged her way into rooms whenever Ino leaned a little too blatantly into Naruto's hand at her waist, and admired his teammate for achieving both harmless fun and subtle revenge in the same stroke.
~
Honour is a French word.
Gawain rubs the heel of his palm against his eyes until his brothers' judging faces have disappeared and thinks, uncharitably, about the irony of etymology.
~
"No knives or psychological trauma allowed," Iruka says severely.
Ibiki looks around the room of half-expectant, half-hyperactive children and starts to rethink his brilliant new career choice.
~
With each passing night that Judas lies half-awake and remembering, the questions that he intends to ask become simultaneously sharper and blunter. He is prepared for elusion or coldness or even violence in return: he doesn't care, because he will know and Nehorai will know that being left alone for this long grants him the right to answers.
~
The twisted, lacy garter was not the strangest thing that the Doctor found during his impromptu oh-well-it's-spring-somewhere cleaning of the TARDIS, but it brought the widest nostalgic smile to his face.
(Meanwhile, Donna was apologising with bad grace to a confused man with untidy hair and Converse sneakers, upon whom she had leapt with a rather undignified shriek.)
~
"I'll take whatever your most expensive deal is," the girl says with an assured wave of her hand, "though I doubt your little club can adequately entertain me."
Kyouya pushes his glasses higher on his nose and tries to decide if Tamaki has been annoying enough lately to deserve this ghastly client, or if he'll just leave her to the tender mercies of the twins.
~
"How about you both chair the festival committee?" the teacher says finally, in tones that brook no argument.
Azula and Kyouya exchange a glance that says two things: firstly, this will be the best festival ever held at this school or, in fact, anywhere in Japan; secondly, that any amount of underhanded bastardry is permissable when it comes to claiming the credit.
~
Lu Ten is nineteen when he dies. When the news comes Zuko remembers running after his cousin and worshipping him in the way that boys worship their older brothers, but everyone else seems to be far more worried about the fact that his uncle has declared his intention of halting the campaign, so he keeps his head down and recites the rituals for the dead under his breath until Azula catches him at it; her childish laughter is light and unmoved.
~
Lucifer recognises two facets of his own character in the man's brown eyes (which are, like his own, far too bright to be readable). The first is an insatiable intrinsic curiosity; the second is the conscious, practiced ability to ignore regrets until they dissipate entirely.
~
Sakura corners him with a hand to his jaw and another pressed warningly against the healing wound in his side, and she says, "Whatever you think you're protecting me from, I bet you I've already experienced worse."
(She only started betting after Tsunade died; the difference between Sakura and her mentor is that she's very, very good at it.)
~
Azula finds Pai Sho to be a tedious game: the pieces move only in predefined ways, and one cannot change the rules even if one is far more intelligent than one's opponent.
Unlike game pieces, real people are unpredictable and have cracks into which the tip of a lever can be inserted; real people can be tricked.
There is a terrible gash on Naruto's forehead, snaking into his hairline and bleeding all over his face. Sasuke's own face tingles in an itchy sympathy: he wishes the idiot would wipe the damn blood away.
~
Naruto and Sakura spin themselves into a whirlwhind of shared giddy joy with their realisation that Uchiha Sasuke, prodigal fucking son, loved beyond anything he deserves, does not have to belong to one of them and one of them alone. Tsunade can't smile at them with as much approval as she'd like: she can't stop herself from thinking how did you do that -- how dare you do that -- when we couldn't?
~
"Neji-san," Hinata says, the day her father dies, "I -- I would like it very much if you --"
Neji touches his fingertips to his forehead, a reminder; when he says, "I have never wanted the charity of anyone with your blood," he tries very hard not to notice the way her mouth trembles, the sudden dimming of her chakra's warm flow.
~
Temari tells herself that she only proposed to Shikamaru so that she could finally, finally add him to the list of people who she has managed to render speechless.
"That's a stupid excuse even by your standards," Kankurou tells her, "he hardly says a damn word as it is," and Temari hugs him goodbye because she can't open her arms and embrace the desert.
~
There are ten different places on the body where it is possible to kill someone with a simple suture needle; by the time she turns nineteen, Sakura has treated seven of them, and dealt out five with her own hands.
The only time she hesitated was the first.
~
Instead of sleeping the Doctor transforms and discards in his mind what he would say to the Master if he had the chance (and the universe is both vast and surprising -- it never hurts to be prepared). He would like to think himself capable of saying nothing and walking away, but instead he hears his own plaintive voice saying your compulsion of forced ownership is useless; you never needed to threaten a world or construct a cage to own me entirely.
~
When reality punctures the rigid automatic control that has been keeping her upright for the past two weeks, she is abruptly and coldly furious because either Booth put her through this ordeal in full knowledge of what she would suffer, or because he honestly doesn't know how much she loves him; how for four days she felt as though she was bleeding and bleeding and bleeding inside, as though something vital had been ripped away.
She hits him as hard as she possibly can because the second of these two options hurts her more than the first, and she wishes that it didn’t.
~
The line of them stands thus -- Cavil, another Cavil, himself, Doral, Sharon -- and Leoben blinks twice.
"What are you smiling about?" one of the Cavils asks, and Leoben replies, "I'm just thinking that it's a pity Number Three isn't here."
~
When Caspian looks at Peter his expression says legend and hero and Peter doesn't have the heart to tell him that he has spent months trying to forget the sensations of triumph and authority; that to be admired so openly is somewhere between glorious and a dagger to the heart.
Because when Peter looks at Caspian, two people look at two people: the High King sees a boy who is not so very different to himself, when he was a few years into his reign, and Peter Pevensie sees someone a little older than himself with serious eyes and a beautiful, natural sword-grace.
When Caspian touches Peter on the arm, the force of these identities presses them closer and closer together.
When Peter kisses Caspian he kisses Narnia, and so it feels more like an ending than a beginning.
~
Increasing the temperature of a liquid increases the energy of any gas particles trapped within it, meaning that less and less of the gas can remain dissolved.
Which means, on the aesthetic level, that for all the beauty of refraction in the spheres tossed out by the warming fizz, it's simply a grand concession to loss of identity.
~
"I don't know if I want to get married after all," Angela whispers into his bare chest.
Just as his heart leaps into his throat in a deplorably unanatomical and yet entirely vivid manner, she lifts her wicked eyes to meet his and continues, "I rather like this whole living in sin concept."
~
The backs of Subaru's gloves have faint grey lines that speak of what lies beneath, dusty shadows of pentagrams traced out by the absent troubled movement of his fingers across the fabric. Seishirou follows them with his own fingers, holding the Sumeragi's wrist tight in his other hand, until the glow through the gloves and the glow of Subaru's desperate eyes are equal in vibrancy.
~
During the stage of his sexual development when Naruto flirted with anyone, Ino swept her hair over her shoulder and surprised almost everyone by flirting right back.
Shikamaru, however, was not surprised: he noticed the violence with which Sakura banged her way into rooms whenever Ino leaned a little too blatantly into Naruto's hand at her waist, and admired his teammate for achieving both harmless fun and subtle revenge in the same stroke.
~
Honour is a French word.
Gawain rubs the heel of his palm against his eyes until his brothers' judging faces have disappeared and thinks, uncharitably, about the irony of etymology.
~
"No knives or psychological trauma allowed," Iruka says severely.
Ibiki looks around the room of half-expectant, half-hyperactive children and starts to rethink his brilliant new career choice.
~
With each passing night that Judas lies half-awake and remembering, the questions that he intends to ask become simultaneously sharper and blunter. He is prepared for elusion or coldness or even violence in return: he doesn't care, because he will know and Nehorai will know that being left alone for this long grants him the right to answers.
~
The twisted, lacy garter was not the strangest thing that the Doctor found during his impromptu oh-well-it's-spring-somewhere cleaning of the TARDIS, but it brought the widest nostalgic smile to his face.
(Meanwhile, Donna was apologising with bad grace to a confused man with untidy hair and Converse sneakers, upon whom she had leapt with a rather undignified shriek.)
~
"I'll take whatever your most expensive deal is," the girl says with an assured wave of her hand, "though I doubt your little club can adequately entertain me."
Kyouya pushes his glasses higher on his nose and tries to decide if Tamaki has been annoying enough lately to deserve this ghastly client, or if he'll just leave her to the tender mercies of the twins.
~
"How about you both chair the festival committee?" the teacher says finally, in tones that brook no argument.
Azula and Kyouya exchange a glance that says two things: firstly, this will be the best festival ever held at this school or, in fact, anywhere in Japan; secondly, that any amount of underhanded bastardry is permissable when it comes to claiming the credit.
~
Lu Ten is nineteen when he dies. When the news comes Zuko remembers running after his cousin and worshipping him in the way that boys worship their older brothers, but everyone else seems to be far more worried about the fact that his uncle has declared his intention of halting the campaign, so he keeps his head down and recites the rituals for the dead under his breath until Azula catches him at it; her childish laughter is light and unmoved.
~
Lucifer recognises two facets of his own character in the man's brown eyes (which are, like his own, far too bright to be readable). The first is an insatiable intrinsic curiosity; the second is the conscious, practiced ability to ignore regrets until they dissipate entirely.
~
Sakura corners him with a hand to his jaw and another pressed warningly against the healing wound in his side, and she says, "Whatever you think you're protecting me from, I bet you I've already experienced worse."
(She only started betting after Tsunade died; the difference between Sakura and her mentor is that she's very, very good at it.)
~
Azula finds Pai Sho to be a tedious game: the pieces move only in predefined ways, and one cannot change the rules even if one is far more intelligent than one's opponent.
Unlike game pieces, real people are unpredictable and have cracks into which the tip of a lever can be inserted; real people can be tricked.
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Gineke was going to make a new one, though. And I asked her to put the computer rooms on it, for ease of easiness.
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eh, doesn't bother ME. Gineke was mildly annoyed, but I don't mind...
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*looks at epic Brennan-POV fic lingering unfinished for lack of plot*
Brennan is so, so easy for me. I doubt I could sustain Booth for any serious amount of time, though.
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With lovely irony, I have exactly the opposite problem with my original fiction.
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>.>
<.
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:)?
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I was so much younger when Kassandra and Lucifer first met...
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2) omg gawain my heart
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