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I have a terrible cold, and will probably be crashing soon. Or, I should, if I'm smart. *cue shifty eyes*
Anyhow, still trying to write more, still kind of stuck on my late IY flashfic (I am so sorry! I can only promise I'll finish it eventually!) I know that last time I tried this, I completely failed, but things were a bit rough for me then. ( Read more... )
Anyhow, still trying to write more, still kind of stuck on my late IY flashfic (I am so sorry! I can only promise I'll finish it eventually!) I know that last time I tried this, I completely failed, but things were a bit rough for me then. ( Read more... )
Thank you! :D
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“You’ve changed your hair,” Ulquiorra states. Orihime only nods before turning away. Down her back, where once-loose waves of bright hair flowed, hangs a thick braid. He says no more on the subject, though he thinks on it silently. He decides that he approves of this. She seems more docile now, more bound. Finally, she is truly accepting that she belongs to Aizen-sama.
Once he leaves, Orihime reaches back to pull the braid over a shoulder. She fingers one of the strands carefully. “This is me,” she breathes. And, moving to the next, “This is my nakama.” She traces the final strand with a fingertip, zig-zagging along its woven path. “And this is the trust and the love and the faith and loyalty that binds us together.” Satisfied, reminded, she lets the braid slide back over her shoulder. Dipping her head, Orihime smiles.
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