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31_days2005-12-02 12:08 am
naki-san.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-12-02 12:08 am
(December 2nd, 2005) (Naruto) Maybe they're dead.
Oh God, why do I keep updating? Is what you're asking. It's the themes fault, they inspired me, dammit.
Title: Maybe They're Dead
Day/Theme: December 02: Their days are like grass
Series: Naruto
Character/Pairing: Naruto, Sasuke.
Rating: PG. For blood. And MINOR spoilers. Oooh. Scary <3
Their days are like grass, swaying and ever changing in their monotonous lives. Eat, sleep, kill. Eat, sleep, kill.
When the grass turns brown it is because of the Uchiha’s fireballs, fanning out across the ground trying to catch clumsy feet that just barely avoid it. But they do, yelling out in frustration and anger that he almost singed his new goddamn shoes, so stop it!
When the grass turns yellow, it’s from them lying on it, peacefully and chests heaving after a particularly rough spar, the blonde with dried patches of blood and the brunette still bleeding, glaring.
When the grass is gone, it’s from nails digging into the ground, non-existent claws reaching to try and stop as the owner growls and snarls, teeth snapping and tails cracking. The other’s skin is black, gold pupils wide with excitement and something resembling fear. It’s not though.
When it’s normal, a nice plush green that only comes with naturally grown grass, it means they are gone, maybe dead. But they are not there.
Their days are like grass, and in the end, the grass is the only thing that links them.
Title: Maybe They're Dead
Day/Theme: December 02: Their days are like grass
Series: Naruto
Character/Pairing: Naruto, Sasuke.
Rating: PG. For blood. And MINOR spoilers. Oooh. Scary <3
Their days are like grass, swaying and ever changing in their monotonous lives. Eat, sleep, kill. Eat, sleep, kill.
When the grass turns brown it is because of the Uchiha’s fireballs, fanning out across the ground trying to catch clumsy feet that just barely avoid it. But they do, yelling out in frustration and anger that he almost singed his new goddamn shoes, so stop it!
When the grass turns yellow, it’s from them lying on it, peacefully and chests heaving after a particularly rough spar, the blonde with dried patches of blood and the brunette still bleeding, glaring.
When the grass is gone, it’s from nails digging into the ground, non-existent claws reaching to try and stop as the owner growls and snarls, teeth snapping and tails cracking. The other’s skin is black, gold pupils wide with excitement and something resembling fear. It’s not though.
When it’s normal, a nice plush green that only comes with naturally grown grass, it means they are gone, maybe dead. But they are not there.
Their days are like grass, and in the end, the grass is the only thing that links them.