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PKMN: Date"All right, Red, hand it over."
". . . What?"
"Your hat! Hand it over."
Red stared at Misty as she held out her hand, waggling her fingers expectantly, her eyes darting up to the hat resting on his head. He frowned, not moving, and after a moment she rolled her eyes, her smile fading in exasperation.
"You're the one that agreed to this, Red. Don't be difficult."
"I don't remember saying anything about my hat."
"The deal was whoever won the battle got what they wanted for the rest of the day. I want your hat." She stuck out her hand with a bit more impatience, her expression determined. "So hand it over. Now."
Red sighed, and reached up to pull his hat off his head, revealing his ridiculously unkempt dark hair for all the world to see. Misty took the cap with a grin and, after pulling her hair tie from her red locks, pulled it down snugly over her own hair. Despite his minor annoyance at handing to fork over his hat (because while it wasn't the most important thing in the world, he had
Gaara's Ghouls - NarutoGaaras Ghouls
Kankuro could tally on one hand the number of things that truly terrified him. Sure, there were lots of things that gave him the creeps. Like too many green vegetables, for example. They tasted nasty and gummed him up every time he ate them. Plants in general were downright sneaky.
But real fear was different. Some of the things he could count on his fingers included bugs, particularly if they came from the creepy Konoha kid, and the monster his little brother sometimes turned into when he was really angry. Kankuro hadnt seen the latter recently, thankfully. Gaara and Shukaku seemed to have chummed up enough that Kankuro could at least go through a poorly cooked meal without having death threats rained down on the rice. If anything, Gaara seemed to spend more time glaring at some internal facet of himself than at anyone else in particular.
He wondered then, as he put his ear to his brothers bedroom door, if Gaara was trying to cook up some new kin
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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