#morefirethanthesun

[valorcorrupt]

❝ you’re smiling because you know i’m right. ❞

     “I’m smiling because you’re adorable. But you’re also so very, adorably wrong.”

[valorcorrupt]

“A good friend will always stab you in the front.”

     “Are you seriously defending him right now?”

If Inara hadn’t lost so much blood, her... anger may have come with a little bit more fire. But as things were, the best she could manage was a very lazy glare at her dear healer, and try her best not to pass out. 

     “A good friend wouldn’t stab me at all,” she grumbled. “Fuckin’ ginger.”

[wiresdonttalk]

‘science is neat. but i’m afraid it’s not very forgiving.’

“Preaching to the choir, my friend.” She undid her mechanical arm at the elbow and tossed it into his lap without a car. It was science that had taken it from her.“How long’s this gonna take this time?”

[valorcorrupt]

i forgot my passwords on my other blogs so ➡ for shane and ➝ for xander

Touch MemeSend a symbol to have your Muse touch my Muse in a certain way and see how they react!➡ Smack dat ass (for Shane) 

     She doesn’t even have the strength to slap him. 

They’ve been running for days now, pushing through miles of hilly, densely forested terrain attempting to outrun the latest pack of Templars to come Too Close for Comfort. They’re wet, Inara’s fingers and toes tingling with numb and cold, and scratched up, skin reacting to minor poisons and slices from thorns and tangled vines. They’re dirty, too, mud and blood caked in unmentionable places. But most of all, they are tired. Sleep came in sparse helpings, chopped into little half-hours or half-minutes -- however long it felt safe to close their eyes, and never all at once. 

Inara and Anders, at least, had Warden blood, a thrumming in their veins that pushed them to keep moving past exhaustion. Anders had Justice, too, the lucky bastard (for once), to infuse him with a little something extra (at what cost, Inara didn’t want to know). But Shane... 

Sometimes she thinks it’s pure sexual energy that keeps that man going. And when his first act as he drops down next to her in that cramped little ship’s cabin is to smack her ass like they’ve just gotten started at a tavern, she figures that theory is all but confirmed. 

     “I’m not touching your dick until after we’ve bathed,” she informs him with a little harrumph. But somehow, when he groans and whines, she finds the strength to smile. 

➝ Feel mine’s heartbeat (for Xander)

     It’s late. 

A strange thought to have, certainly, and yet Inara can’t push it from her mind as she watches the candle on her bedside table burn down. It’s not like she didn’t intend to stay up late -- she’s spent half her evening making the time fly all tangled up in silk sheets with her very favorite noble. But it’s the fact that Xander hasn’t left yet that’s screwing with her perception of time. 

Usually, her Warden-Commander slips out of her bed not long after they’ve finished bruising each other, waiting only barely for her to settle down to sleep facing the wall before he exits the sheets and her room without so much as a word. But tonight, when she rolled over to face the wall and allow him his smooth exit... he just put his arm around her. 

She doesn’t know how to feel. She’s never asked him to stay. The words have moved through her mind, of course, but only in it’s darkest corners, far from the ledge where they might fall onto her tongue. And he’s never asked her to stay in his bed, either -- they do their business, and they leave. That’s just how it’s been, what they’ve done. It was routine. It was comfortable. 

This, on the other hand, was not comfortable. With Xander’s breath soft on her neck and his hand pressed over her chest, it was almost like... he was waiting for something. 

     “You’re not waiting ‘til I’m asleep so you can smother me, are you?” She’d read that somewhere, she thought.

     “Stop watching plays,” Xander suggests. He says nothing more, and she goes back to staring at a flickering flame. 

[valorcorrupt]

➥

Touch MemeSend a symbol to have your Muse touch my Muse in a certain way and see how they react!➥ Rub their back

     “Shouldn’t I be the one pampering you?” Inara asks, though her half-hearted objection hardly keeps her from closing her eyes and sighing with almost inappropriate amounts of pleasure when Anders invites himself to press his fingers into her freshly bathed skin. “You’ve been working hard all day. Let me--”

     “Hush.” She can hear him smiling, picture that little smirk on his lips as he stares down at her like he knows exactly how fragile her attempts to pretend she doesn’t need this are, and it almost makes her feel guilty. He’s been working himself ragged every day, every night. She’s supposed to be taking care of him, isn’t she? She’s supposed to be his protector. She failed at that once, and she won’t-- she won’t fail him again. 

     “Fine. But when you’re done, it’s my turn to do you.” She realizes too late how open she left that line; he laughs before she can correct the mistake as if she would never have meant such a thing. 

     “Oh, I’m sure we’ll get there,” he assures her with a hum, and she smiles when his fingers drag just a little lower with every breath. 

[valorcorrupt]

Inara/Shane/Anders, #5

send me a ship and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic5.  Things you didn’t say at all

     “Shut up,” Inara suggests, pulling Shane closer to press a kiss to the redhead’s lips that effectively cements her request. She is, as usual, pleased with her method of shutting the man up........ until his hands start to wander and they hear the sharp clearing of a throat from the table. 

     “Sorry,” they both mumble, though the apostate gives them no further acknowledgement or admonishment. This has been something to get used to for all of them, all this running and hiding. Gets hard not to get bored, crammed away in some muddy hole in a mountain. Gets hard not to want to find creative ways to keep warm. 

     But Anders is having none of that this week, the table crammed full of papers and plans for his little revolutions. No distractions, he insists. And there’s no where they can go in this little cave that won’t distract him in the worst way, so the three of them have, however reluctantly, taken a vow of chastity. It’s killing them both -- but they love him enough to bear it. 

     They haven’t said we forgive you -- there’s nothing to forgive, certainly, outside of the feathered mage’s head. They haven’t said we’ll stay, we’ll support you, we’re here forever. But when the Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall settle for sitting on a cold stone floor beside each other in silence reading in order to keep the mage’s peace, they hope that he can hear it anyway. 

[howeveryclever]

(Nanders. I hope you accept asks from blogs that used to rp at one point) "I think you're suffering from a lack of vitamin me."

Send me a ship and a sentence, I’ll write the next five || tentatively accepting

“That’s unfortunate,”Nathaniel mumbled into his pillow, wrapping his arms more tightly around itlike that would convince Anders he was actually sleeping (spoiler alert: itwasn’t working). “Let me guess, it’s fatal if left untreated?” The mage made alow, appropriately sad noise, accompanied by an “Afraid so”, even as he cardedhis fingers through the dark hair at the base of the rogue’s neck. “I can seeyou succumbing already, howe sad—ah!” Anders’ squeal was music to hisears when Nathaniel’s blind grab for his side made contact, the conversationvery quickly devolving into a tickling match that left them both breathless(but no so breathless that Nathaniel couldn’t smugly inquire if he needed anymore ‘vitamin me.’)

[howeveryclever]

"You know, if I were you, I'd have sex with me."

“I believe you’d have a very difficult time being me, but I’ll take your word for it.”