This is just going to be a collection of drabbles, mini-fics, ect. based off of random prompts. Pairings, genre, style, and perspective will vary. Enjoy!
Title: Moon Beam
Character: Gaara
Theme: Locks
I am often envious of the moon. While I am chained to this cold dirt floor and only get to she her when she sees fit, the moon freely flows through the sky, casting an erie, yet calming glow down upon the shadowed earth.
Sometimes she boldly announces her presence, puffing out her form to its fullest as if to demand that all stare in wonder and appreciate her gift of light.
Other times, however, she appears as a sliver, slipping through the peppered night sky and only briefly glancing down at the creatures below. I often wonder: is she grinning down at us as she slides by, entertained as we stumble blindly in the dark? Or is she punishing our violent tendencies and constant outbreak of war, and decide that we are not fit to be receivers of her selfless gift?
Tonight, however, she is in a good mood, and I can see her soft beams pouring through the open window and puddle around your still figure. Your blanket is thrown back and you are spread haphazardly across the mattress. Despite your lack of covering in the cool desert night, a thin layer of sweat shines upon your upper lip as your body struggles to adjust to this new extreme climate.
I am jealous. Gentle beams of moon-glow caress your exposed limbs, covering you in a warm embrace I could never hope to replicate. Your head is tossed to the side and your long, pale neck is exposed to the quiet night air; even here the moon places a soft collar, placing silent kisses upon the sensitive flesh. I am almost angry, for you barely know one another and yet are already this intimate.
I notice, however, that even the all-seeing moon has failed to penetrate the carefully crafted mask that protects what is most private to you. In your attempts at getting comfortable before succumbing to sleep, your face has become obscured in a mess of serenely tangled bed head. Soft locks are plastered to your high cheekbones and your eyes are hidden behind a layer of bangs so thick that even the moon's brightest beams can't manage to slip past. Ever since your transfer to Suna, the calm and collected mask you wear has yet to be breached. It does, however, without your knowing it, slip and fall away when you sleep and all of the day's pent up emotion burst free while you slumber. Your eyes twitch and contour, telling the emotion-ridden stories that you try so hard to keep secret.
I sigh, look up at the full moon, and frown. What I once admired now filled me with a gripping uneasiness and a surge of uncharacteristic protectiveness. Who gave her the right to see every last secret and flaw you work so hard to keep to yourself? Her once soft, silver rays now appear cold and piercing, molesting your innocent form while you relax into one of the few uninterrupted nights of sleep a shinobi gets to enjoy. My temper flares and I make my way to the wide open window. With a sharp yank, the room is plunged into darkness and your secrets are safe once again.