1 - 20 of 33 Works by windbloom
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“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said. In your Gladiating days, before you became the Ephor, the grove was off limits to you.
“I’m certainly supposed to be here, even if I’m not allowed,” you replied, and you came to me instead.
I sucked in a breath as you took me in your arms.
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“Come here,” Augusta requested, legs spreading beneath the water to give Lupa the room to climb into her lap.
This was what Lupa had been wanting all this time, and so was quick to obey; her wolf-aspected bushy brown tail nearly splashing the water from the pool as it wagged with pent-up excitement.
They had done this before, but for Lupa, every time felt like the first.
But in her heart, she knew she had to treat it like her last.
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Her alarm clock would be silent for another six hours. It would have been just enough time for the Blazing Nightwalker to make her rounds.
But Zani hadn’t been taking part in her after-hours voluntary work lately.
Or maybe, Zani pondered as she set the empty can into an overflowing bag of trash by the door, maybe what she had found to busy herself as of late was exactly that.
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“You’re making that face again,” Shalom murmured sweetly.
“Mm,” Rahu grunted.
“Tell me what it means.”
“It means,” Rahu mumbled self consciously, as she tried to pull her expression back into the tried and true neutral she had learned to employ as a recruit, “that I can’t believe you’re being serious right now.”
Shalom laughed, and her eyes narrowed with delight as she lifted the object she held in her hand. A simple collar, dark and thin. Sized not for a canine, but instead for a human.
“Don’t you like it?”
“Whether I like it or not–”
“Matters to me,” Shalom corrected.
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“Will you be alright?”
“It is an easy task,” Sanhua breathed. And it was. Await Rover’s arrival to the City Hall and lead her to the Wayfinder. From there, the pair would travel to Mt. Firmament, to help Jinzhou’s Magistrate in whatever way they were able.
The Lady Magistrate’s own Counselor had given Sanhua these very simple instructions, as she stood before her now.
“What I mean is, well, aren’t you worried about her?”
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“You don’t have to stand guard out here. Not on a night like tonight,” Jinhsi called across the courtyard as she approached her, her pale-lashes down-turned as she watched Sanhua’s fingers marking mantras, bead by bead.
Sanhua said nothing. Her lady’s light was often blinding, even in the dark. The light came in waves; gentle at times and torrential at others. Now, all was calm and still; like the lights in the sky that glistened in her snowy eyes.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” Jinhsi offered quietly, as she came nearer.
“I thought to let you sleep,” Sanhua murmured.
“You don’t have to do that alone, either,” Jinhsi pointed out charmingly.
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“It’s quite rare for us to meet outside of the Simulated Universe. What’s the occasion?” Herta asks bluntly as she takes a seat at one of the armchairs in one of her many private studies scattered about the uninhabited hallways of her eponymous spacecraft.
“It’s not like you’re actually here,” Ruan Mei reminds. Herta’s consciousness, within the confines of her puppet’s body, bristles, but before she can provide a retort her fellow Society member begins again.
“I had an idea for a new experiment,” Ruan Mei offers simply, beautifully subtle voice sounding unemotional as always but providing no hint as to her intention.
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The FAC’s Anti-mania combatant stands at full attention outside of Erica Villa’s master bath, having even refused to disarm herself of her shields as the sound of running water can be heard behind the closed door.
Rahu tries not to listen as the sound of running water slows to a halt. She tries even harder not to hear the sound of clothing, a long pencil skirt and a white blouse, a belt, and jewelry being removed and set down. She valiantly refuses to hear the sound of the woman she had sworn to protect slowly entering the water, and sighing all the while.
But Rahu's ears perk up and her heart begins to race as she hears all of these things.
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It was, after all, just a single point on the line. One of a million different paths that would all lead back to that final terminus.
But why this point? Why this moment? Why all the other moments, before that?
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Kafka does the opposite of ruining Silver Wolf's immersion.
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“I had promised to sing for her, you know,” Columbina mused, “when she returned.”
“You sang for her this morning,” Arlecchino pointed out coldly.
“I sang for you,” Columbina chimed back.
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It's late, and Asta is bored.
As she watches the Trailblazer use an internet search for the first time, a plan begins to form.
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Deren slumps into a booth in a posh Eastside bar’s private back room. The establishment’s owner doesn’t exactly know that they’re crashing here, but that’s fine because the owner is kind of a scumbag and Deren plans to leave a tip for the wait staff either way.
It’s a fairly quiet place to get some shut eye, and that’s what matters.
“Director Deren?”
The youthful voice is bright and inquisitive, but there’s a hint of skepticism too; someone like Deren doesn’t exactly look like Director material.
“That’d be me,” Deren replies idly as they tilt their bucket hat upwards and force a small, squinty-eyed smile.
“Wow! It’s so good to meet you! I’m Luvia.”
Deren sighs heavily and tilts their hat back over their eyes.
“And I’m tired."
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Kamisato Ayaka is not a selfish person, but sometimes she makes a wish to the stars above that she could be. If she were selfish, maybe she wouldn't feel so undeserving of another's attention. But the attention she's receiving isn't from another person. It's from Inazuma's Archon. And as much as Ayaka wants to say she's undeserving, she wants nothing more than for her God's eye to be upon her.
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“FM.”
Ryoshu’s lips curve around her cigarette, and around each character, enunciating the acronym with an aggressive clearness. Her breath makes the particles of dust and ash tremble within the red arcs of sunset light that cut through the carefully decorated corner suite office.
“You’re covered in blood,” Outis murmurs harshly as she shifts her folio and marks an error needing correction with ink that matches the crimson splatters of gore streaking her subordinate’s suit.
Outis imagines what it would feel like to run her tongue along Ryoshu’s teeth. But she doesn’t need to imagine; she has done this all before.
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It's traditional on the Almighty Shogun's birthday for the Narukami Guuji to send gifts to Tenshukaku, by way of a shrine maiden messenger. This time, Kuki Shinobu is up to task, and in order to secure a long-awaited audience with the unattainable Raiden Shogun, she's ready to wear the trappings of a shrine maiden (however many bad memories they seem to bring). When she realizes exactly how the Shogun intends to celebrate her birthday, Shinobu finds herself more than qualified to fulfill the God's wishes.
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What if instead of the Traveler interrupting Ei and the Shogun's eternal battle in the Plane of Oneiric Euthymia, it was Kokomi instead?
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Ariel’s heels click to a sudden stop on the black tiled floor of the Chief’s office. But it’s not the Chief’s voice that greets her from across that dimly lit room.
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You can feel her studying you from across the table. You lift your eyes just enough to quietly watch as her black-gloved fingers wistfully skim the thick glass rim of her whisky tumbler. Slowly, she uncrosses and re-crosses her legs; the deep slit of her charcoal skirt splits up her bare thigh like a widening eye.
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The de facto leader of the West District Legion towers over you. One gloved hand is shoved deep into the pocket of a pair of leather pants that fit the mesmerizing curve of her hips like a glove. All you can do is stare, and try to remember to breathe.