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oftenlyshitposting · 7 months

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a wolf, a warrior, and a hotspring | wolfwren fic

"meet me here again tomorrow. at noon."

sabine finds that slumber has been kinder to her. she awoke to the hazy peridean early sun, to the smell of cookings just outside of the fulcrum. the noti people must have been up for sometime now. with the scent of food entering the ship, that means ahsoka is, too.

oh, right. she hasn't told ahsoka.

sabine rises from her bunk with a soft grunt, already fabricating a plan to sneak out of camp. she glances at the clock she and huyang constructed; the time is indicating closer towards midday. sabine leans out of her bunk to search for ahsoka and huyang, not finding either at the common table or the practice floor. the door to the cockpit was also open, showing vacant seats. they're outside then, sabine concluded.

without wasting anymore time, sabine tiptoes to the refresher for a quick wash and to get dressed. her fingers were crossed that ahsoka stays occupied until she could sneak out, but luck betrayed her. by the time sabine got out of the refresher, ahsoka was at the common table, plating some bowls that looked like breakfast and a jug of what sabine assumes as the tea she usually drinks.

"morning," ahsoka calls, her tone sounding suspiciously humoured, "had a good sleep?"

sabine scratches her hair, avoiding eyes with ahsoka. "uh, yeah. slept alright."

"that's good."

sabine nods, quickly making her way to her bunk to pack up her blasters and to put on her beskar. her periphery catches ahsoka's eyes on her, but she tries her best to ignore her master. plan A of quietly sneaking out failed, so sabine decides to just play it coolly and find the right time to sneak out again. she casually walks to grab a cup from the storage, pouring herself the tea.

"what's all this?" sabine nods at the bowls and plates at the table, sipping her tea to calm her nerves.

ahsoka pushes a bowl at sabine's direction, "late breakfast. the noti found native fruits and berries, you should try some," and made a gesture sabine interprets as an instruction for her to sit and eat.

sabine shrugs. "alright." she began scooping the bowl; it consists of some kind of mushy grain-like porridge with various haphazardly chopped fruits. the texture initially puts her off, but the taste wasn't so bad. it reminded her of some kind of pudding. "hey, where's huyang?"

"he's outside. last i saw, he was helping a noti folk fix up their little pod," ahsoka replies easily, munching on a crunchier chopped fruit. sabine hums in response, mouth a little full. ahsoka then looks at sabine inquisitively as she asks, "where'd you run off yesterday? you were gone for a really long time."

"uh, i went out to hunt?" sabine cringes internally, not intending her answer to sound unconvincing, which she follows up with, "no luck, though. no game, or stuff. but, i did find a hotspring."

"did you?"

"yep."

ahsoka's brow quirked, and sabine can't really tell what her master is thinking. "you found someone, though. didn't you?"

well, shoot. sabine doesn't really know how to deny that question, so she decides to dance around the whole truth, "yeah. baylan's blonde padawan. i ran into her at the spring. surprisingly, she didn't try to kill me."

"i can see that," ahsoka chuckled. "did something happen?" when sabine tilts her head questioningly, ahsoka adds, "i felt something shifted, in the force."

double shoot. guess plan B of sneaking out and postponing the conversation failed too. sabine sighs. "i guess so...? i... i don't know. i can feel her, and she can feel me. through the force."

"that's not uncommon. you've finally tapped into the force, making your presence known within it and to anyone who can access the force." ahsoka gestures between them, explaining further, "like how i can sense you, and you can sense me."

ahsoka's explanation makes sense. though, sabine can't help but think that there's more to the connection between her and shin. she knows that ahsoka and her have a bond, as master to padawan. it doesn't quite make sense to her as to why she would share a connection with shin; the kind of bond that they have.

thinking about their bond might have subconsciously triggers it in sabine's mind, as she finds herself reaching for shin within the force. she sees shin, on the other end of their connection, hunting with a group of the red-armoured bandits. sabine can feel shin sensing her presence in their connection.

shin pauses atop her howler, turning her head to the side where sabine is sitting inside the fulcrum. sabine's breath choked in her throat when she hears shin's voice... inside her mind?

'you missed me already?'

sabine wants to scream out loud; shin sounded unbearably cocky, like she was teasing her. and the fact that shin's voice filled her whole mind like an echo in a chamber doesn't help her clear her mind. even in an odd psychic link, shin can be infuriating.

'you wish,' sabine replied in her mind, trying to put up a convincing annoyed act. 'this happened out of my control, okay?'

shin lets out a noise that sounded like a chuckle. 'you are a lousy liar, if you did not know already.' when sabine was about to protest her, shin interrupts, 'as much as i enjoy to watch you try to lie your way out, i am in the middle of hunting. you, are a distraction.'

sabine rolled her eyes, disconnecting herself from the freaky little mind connection thing. she almost choked on her tea when she finds ahsoka looking at her with such a knowing look. sabine finds it oddly infuriating and similar to shin. she hid her face behind her cup, shooting an unamused glare back.

"what?"

ahsoka smiles, and sabine has a bad feeling about it. "you were with her just know, weren't you?"

sabine chokes, "i- what are you–?" she sputters with flushing cheeks. she then manages, "how did you...?"

"well, you went quiet for a while," ahsoka points out the obvious with a smile, sipping her tea, "and i felt the presence of someone else briefly. someone you ran into rather frequently, on top of that."

"that's great," sabine grumbles. "so, the cost of using the force is no privacy for my mind, got it." perhaps she should learn the whole force mind-shield trick, if it's possible to learn it this early.

ahsoka laughs. "relax. i wasn't in your mind, ever." she then makes a move to stand, placing a hand on sabine's shoulder as she says, "i only felt something in the force, and i put two and two together."

sabine pouts, but didn't say anything to that. she opts to finish her bowl of food quickly, knowing ahsoka is going to prepare her for more training. when she finished eating, she quickly cleans the table and brought the dishes to get it cleaned.

ahsoka was preparing the practice floor by the time sabine finishes cleaning up, presumably for meditation training. not exactly sabine's most favourite part of training, but she really doesn't have much to say as a padawan. perhaps ahsoka might teach her how to not let other people look into her brain, that would be neat.

it was a few hours later when ahsoka concurred sabine's training for the day. her master had thrown in a little zatochi session post meditation, testing if her senses are more honed in than the first time sabine did it. to ahsoka's pleasure, sabine did improve when it comes to sensing ahsoka's intents. didn't entirely surprise ahsoka that sabine still falls victim to getting frustrated easily, resulting in ahsoka tripping her again.

"going to meet her again?" ahsoka called out as sabine was packing up a bag, smiling teasingly as she leans against the backrest of the common table.

sabine rolled her eyes. "oh, ha-ha."

"sabine, relax, it doesn't bother me what you do in your spare time." her togrutan master laughs, amused at sabine's defensiveness. ahsoka reaches over to a storage compartment, taking out the large fur coat that she doesn't wear, handing it to sabine. "take this. give it to her."

"what? why?" sabine frowns, looking down at the coat. she recalls that shin has her own cape thing that she wore to the hotspring yesterday.

ahsoka steps closer, her expression a little serious. "it's better used with her than it stays here, gathering dust. and sabine?" when sabine raised her brows expectantly, ahsoka continues, "ask her if she'd like to stay with us."

sabine eyes widened, unexpecting ahsoka's request. "wh– what do you mean 'stay with us'? why?"

"her master's abandoned her. she's alone."

"not as alone as you might think," sabine scoffs, petulant. "she's running with the bandits."

ahsoka shoots her a look, unimpressed. "you know that is not what i meant." she sighs patiently. "you can feel her, more than i do. you know what she feels, her emotions and her thoughts."

"yeah, i guess so..."

"and you of all people, knows best what it's like when your master walks away from you."

and there it is, the final strike home. sabine groans, "y'know, i hate it when you're right about things."

ahsoka laughs, deep and low in her torso. she pats sabine's shoulder and gave it an assuring squeeze. "i'm not always, and you know this. just try, sabine. she just needs someone at the moment."

"you think that someone is me?" sabine raises her brow, uncertain and expectant. ahsoka doesn't answer immediately, and sabine nods somewhat understandingly.

"you saw how she reacted when i offered my help the first time," ahsoka recounts to their last battle, where shin had looked so defeated and fled her and sabine. "i didn't believe she was ready then. but, like most things in life, we sometimes just needs to give it a little bit of time. i think she is more ready now, and with the right person," she nods at sabine, who pursed her lips in a tight-lipped smile, "she may accept our help."

sabine sighed, long and drawn. "alright, fine." the mandalorian grabs the fur coat, stuffing it in her bag. she huffs as she saddles the bag, walking towards the landing ramp. "i'll try to talk to her, but i can't promise anything. and if she kills me, you're responsible for murley!"

ahsoka merely laughs amusedly. "go!"

sabine waves at her master, before disappearing towards her howler and hops onto it's saddled back. her companion animal instantly takes off on it's strong legs, racing towards where it took her yesterday. sabine was tempted to search for shin again in their bond, but restrains herself and hopes that the blonde padawan will be there anyway.

her howler's speed began to decrease as the path to the hotspring becomes familiar to sabine's eyes. she scouts the surrounding, naturally out of instinct, for any bandits or nuisance that she'd have to fight off. the mandalorian sighs in relief when she saw nothing, and more importantly, sensed nothing dangerous in the force.

sabine hops off from her howler, keeping a gentle guiding hand on it's neck as they walk closer towards the spring. she finds a patch of thicker grass and softly commands 'tota' at her howler, unloading her bag and the sack of food for her howler. she scratches it's snout with a smile as it munches on the food sabine brought, whinying joyfully.

"you actually made it here again."

shin's voice filled sabine's surrounding and mind, and sabine wasn't even remotely surprised. she had sensed her arrival a few moments ago. and before she can say anything smart, shin had stolen the moment from her. sabine huffs amusedly.

"aw, were you expecting me to bail?" sabine teases with a smirk, turning from her howler to find shin. the blonde padawan is atop her white howler, head held high as always, and a ghost of a smirk on her lips. something felt a little off, though.

shin barely huffs out a laugh, sounding more like a restricted exhale. sabine watches closely; shin's arm is circled around her waist. like she's holding something in. sabine frowns, strutting closer towards shin, her skin breaking in sweat and her lips looking a little paler.

sabine then feels it; a pounding pain across her abdomen, the same area shin is clutching onto.

shin's tunic is leaking in red, sabine only now realises.

"shin!" sabine frantically approaches shin, wincing as she feels shin's pain on her body. the blonde padawan tries to get down from her howler, but could barely hold herself together. sabine commands the white howler 'tota' so she can help shin come down easier. "y-you're bleeding. what happened?"

shin grunts, pushing herself off of her howler. "i... we ran into a different group of bandits." her face contorts in pain as sabine lays her down on the ground, arm still clutching her bleeding abdomen. "they were not friendly." shin attempted at a joke, sabine assumes, but it came out as a whisper.

"i need you to remove your clothes." sabine hadn't realised what she blurted out, only registering what she said half a moment later, when shin looked at her with an incredulous and amused look. she tries composing herself as she says, "i brought a medkit, i'll wrap you up."

shin doesn't say anything, only nodding. sabine takes the sign to scramble back to her howler, grabbing her bag and searches for the medkit. she hopes it's sufficient enough to dress shin's wound, because if it's more serious, she'd need to take her to the fulcrum's medbay. that's about two dozens klicks from here, and sabine isn't sure shin can hold off that long of a journey back.

sabine returns to shin, laid on her back with the top part of tunic undressed. with it, reveals shin's wounded stomach. the injury is caked with a layer of crusted blood, mostly browned from oxidation, but still slightly leaking. sabine winces as she gauges the depth of shin's injury, but it's hard to conclude with the amount of blood covering the wound.

"i'm gonna start cleaning it up, okay?" sabine warns shin as she prepared a disinfecting kit, in which shin merely nodded weakly in response to. "it's gonna be a bit painful, so tell me if it's too much."

"do it," shin grunts, preparing herself. when the disinfectant grazes her injured skin, shin barked out a long and painful groan. sabine winces when shin grabs her arm, seemingly out of painful instinct. shin's body writhes as sabine continues wiping the bloodied wound, head thrown back whilst her eyes shut tightly in an agonizing manner. her eyes bolted open in a frenzy as she growled out, "fuck!"

sabine whispers calming phrases that she can remember in mando'a, working quickly and precisely on shin's injury. once cleaned, sabine can finally measure the depth of the gash on shin's stomach, and deduces it isn't as deep as she thought. it definitely requires stitching, and with limited kit, sabine had to resort to the quick-stitcher.

shin had gone quieter, huffing barely audible grunts. watching shin this awfully pale and unusually languid terrified sabine; she's always used to viewing shin as this indestructible force, that she's forgotten shin too, can bleed. her chest rises and falls in an arrhythmic pattern, lips pale and eyes sunken in.

"hey. shin?" sabine gently touches her shoulder, and shin sluggishly moves her head to face her. she smiles, tight-lipped and half apologetic. "i'm gonna stitch you up quickly, yeah?"

"alright." shin nods weakly, dropping her head back to the side again, facing away from sabine.

sabine sanitizes the quick-stitcher, a stapler-like device, and applies a topical numbing gel around the gash. shin hisses at the contact, but exhales softly afterwards. sabine works her way quickly, stitching shin's wound closed. the numbing gel works, sabine can tell from the way shin merely jumps at the first few stitches but didn't groan in pain.

when the last stitch was applied, sabine applies healing ointments before she props shin up to a raised position as she quickly wraps shin's wound with a sterile gauze neatly. sabine reaches to a boulder nearby through the force, placing it behind shin so the blonde padawan can lean her back against it to support her body.

"okay," sabine said in a relieved half-whisper, haphazardly storing her equipments back to the medkit box, "there. you're all good."

shin was quiet for a bit, huffing a long drawn-out breath. her eyes slowly opens, and sabine can guess she's slightly disoriented and hazy. shin's hand raised to hold her neatly bandaged torso, still partially naked as her tunic hangs open on her shoulder.

"this was not how i expected the day to go." shin winces as she tries sitting more upright, making a move to redo her tunic. the tone of her voice is indecipherable, but if sabine dared to guess, she sounds somewhat embarrassed of herself.

sabine's lips quirk to a half smile, sitting properly. "yeah, well. i don't think anyone ever really plans to get ambushed by a group of rogue bandits, huh?"

shin rolls her eyes weakly. "you are really not as funny as you think, did you know that?"

"you have a really funny way of saying thanks, did y'know that?" sabine returns with a cock of her brow. that earned her a faint disgusted look from shin, making her snort. she nudges shin, teasing but careful not to hurt the wound. "i did, just save you from bleeding out."

"you are infuriatingly confusing," shin sighs, leaning her head back against the rock behind her, but smiling at sabine nonetheless, "but i appreciate your help. you worked quick enough that it was not torturous for me."

this time, sabine rolled her eyes at shin's dry joke. "ha-ha. maybe i should have, if you wanted me to hurt you that much."

shin doesn't say anything, her faint smile shifts a little more somberly as her lidded eyes stays fixated on sabine's. the mandalorian sinks into shin's darkened greenish-blue eyes, couldn't tear her eyes away even if she wants to. not like she wants to, anyway. shin's pupils are slightly blown, but her gaze is strong. it reminded sabine when she stared at her at the shuttle ship, descending from morgan's golden hyperspace donut.

"what is in your head?" shin mutters with her usual tilt of her head, voice slightly scratched and accent heavy on her tongue. her evergrowing pale fringes are sticking to her forehead, edges poking her lids. sabine couldn't stop herself from brushing them away gently with the pads of her fingers.

sabine smiles. "aren't you usually in it? 'soka told me everyone can hop into my brain now, because i can access the force."

shin had this ghost of an unimpressed look on her face that sabine finds mildly hilarious. "just because we are intertwined in the force, doesn't mean i know what you are always thinking. your mind is always... a forest. a colourful and loud forest."

sabine typically doesn't blush this easily, but the things shin says or do makes it really hard for her to contain her flustered reactions. she had to actively fight her blush down so she wouldn't turn half as red as her hair when she was twenty six.

"uh, thanks?" sabine manages lamely, losing any remaining ounces of eloquency. when shin had this barely readable expression on her face, something that sabine tries to decipher as amusement, she tries to shift topic, "anyways. i was about to hop in for a relaxing dip before i had to stop you from spilling your whole guts out, literally."

shin rolled her eyes at sabine's joke, earning a satisfied smirk from the mandalorian. she then tries to get up, which immediately sprung sabine to help. "a soak in the hotspring does sound nice."

sabine tries to sit shin back down. "whoa, hey. what do you think you're doing?"

"going for a dip."

"uh, not with a big ass gash on your stomach, you won't?"

"you dressed it already." shin stubbornly retorted.

sabine groans, exasperated. "yeah, and it'll undress if you go for a soak, di'kut."

shin's brows dipped, contorting in a mild confusion and surprise. "what?"

"your bandage. it's gonna get ruined–"

"no, i know that," shin quickly interrupted sabine, inching closer in an unlikely speed towards the mandalorian's space, ultimately sending sabine backward out of reflex. shin's eyes narrowed. "you said something earlier. in an alien language."

"ali– huh?" sabine face contorts in confusion, before things began to click in her mind. "what, di'kut?" she repeated the word at shin, who nods in confirmation. sabine snorts. "that's a mando'a word. it means 'idiot'. because you were."

shin's brow furrowed, and sabine swears her bottom lip quirked up to a pouty frown. "i am not an idiot."

sabine shoots shin an unimpressed look, which the blonde padawan returns with an empty glare. "you literally wanted to soak in a hotspring after someone tore your whole stomach open."

"didn't you dress my wound with a waterproof gauze? it should keep dry for a few hours."

"i-" sabine tries to argue, but shin did have a point. the mandalorian sighed. even if she had better argument points, shin most likely would have ignored sabine and do as she wishes anyway. "alright, fine. but, if your bandage undressed and your wound reopens, you best believe i'll make it hurt when i have to restitch it."

shin quirked her brows in a manner sabine interprets as impressed. the blonde padawan smirks wolfishly. "is that a threat?"

sabine wants to wipe that infuriatingly attractive smirk on shin's face so badly. the mandalorian leans closer towards shin, closing the already small space between them, her eyes darting towards shin's now vanishing smirk. sabine's eyes finds shin's stellar blue eyes as she tilts the blonde padawan by her chin.

"it can be a promise."

sabine swears, for a miniscule split of seconds, shin's pupils dilated and she can hear the soft hitch of her breath; like it was caught in her throat.

shin huffs, amused. "i'll be waiting for it then."

sabine scoffs, but shin had ignored her. shin unclasps her armour and stacking them neatly beside her rock, struggling to lean forward to strip away the lower part of her clothes and armour. shin had kicked off her boots, and is now left with her tight fitting black tank and her matching underwear.

"are you gonna keep staring at me?"

shin's voice snaps sabine out of her blatant staring, turning away with the speed of light to hide her blush. to stop herself from thinking about shin undressing in front of her, sabine immediately began taking off her beskar, one plate at a time.

sabine heard shin rustling behind her, attempting to stand and walk on her own. she had to turn, and saw shin wobbling unsteadily on her feet, but after a few steps, she regained a somewhat more stable stride. when shin finally got into the water, sabine had just finished stripping out of her jumpsuit. she left her beskar pieces neatly next to shin's own armour.

the hotspring feels a lot warmer than yesterday, but it isn't like the heat is intolerable. shin had sat herself down closer towards the deeper parts, the clear water stopping just at her collarbones. her eyes are closed as she dips her head back into the water, and comes back up swiftly. she wipes away water and stray hair clinging to her face, and sighed.

"the water just fine for you?" sabine asks as she dives headfirst, feeling the warmth prickling her cold cheeks. she resurface with a gasp, brushing purple locks away from her face and swims towards shin.

shin hums, eyes still closed. sabine couldn't help but watch shin's throat bobs up and down, and nearly drowned herself after catching herself doing it. shin's voice is soft when she spoke: "the springwater feels nice. i find this place to be a sanctuary in the midst of this wasteland of a planet."

sabine swims closer, stopping herself only a few inches away from shin. "yeah?"

shin nodded, finally peeling her eyes open. her gaze finds sabine's, and sabine began to wonder why are shin's eyes so captivating that she couldn't look away even if she tries. her aquamarine eyes began to roam sabine's face, dancing all over to find whatever it is shin is trying to find, before settling on her lower lip for a few seconds.

sabine feels shin reaching out to her, spread out in thr force. she reached towards shin, trying to meet her in the middle. her eyes almost rolled shut when she finds shin within the force, feeling an intense wave of warmth washing over her whole body.

shin is pulling her closer.

sabine hadn't even realised that she was physically padding towards shin's body until she opens her eyes and finds herself in between shin's legs. her face was much too close to shin's face, but shin isn't showing signs of protest. the blonde padawan's skin has regained some colour from sitting in the hotspring that she lost from the injury, and sabine finds herself staring unashamedly at shin's lips.

it's safe to say that shin barely noticed anything from sabine, because she's also much too occupied eyeing sabine's own lips hungrily. their bond in began to pulse and pull each other in as they feel each other and the ever growing tension that seems amplified. shin had already engulfed sabine in the force with her own tendril-like connection, wrapping her in an intense wave of pleasure and warmth.

"shin…" sabine couldn't stop a breathy whine laced underneath as she says the other padawan's name, the sound escaped her lips straight into shin's mind.

shin winces when sabine wraps herself around shin through their bond, and for a fraction of seconds, the mandalorian was worried she might have hurt shin. alas, with the way shin is grabbing onto sabine's hips, sabine can easily concur that it isn't out of pain. shin's skin burns under her touch, and not because of the warmth of the water surrounding them.

sabine hadn't even realised her body was being yanked forward and found herself seated atop of shin, suddenly looking down into a pair of darkened blue-greenish eyes and drowning into her.

shin's eyes flickered from sabine's down to her lips again before coming back up to meet her again. there's raw and hungry need behind those eyes; sabine doesn't even need to look at shin's eyes to know. sabine ran the pad of her thumb against shin's lower lip, almost sighing when her lips nibbled against her thumb.

she can feel shin; everything that shin is feeling.

shin's lips tremble against sabine's thumb, leaving her lips parted expectantly, and sabine is actively fighting the urge to slip her thumb inside. instead, she drags her thumb down to shin's chin, tilting her up even further. a surprised whine escaped shin.

"sabine…"

sabine shuts her eyes again. she reels in the way shin had said her name in the exact same way as she did yesterday; the way it sends chills up her spine and warmth down her abdomen. shin's grip on her hips tightened, threatening to dip lower. sabine couldn't help but smirk when she opens her eyes again, finding a new and much more satisfying look on shin's eyes.

shin is desperate; oozing with so much want.

"tell me," sabine whispered just above shin's lips, pulling back when the blonde padawan chases after her lips; smiling so teasingly as she hovers above, "what do you want, shin? use your words, cyar'ika."

a soft grunt escaped shin's lips, going straight into sabine's mouth, incoherent, but sabine heard it fine. "i need to kiss you."

sabine smiles, satisfied. her hand finds the side of shin's head, fingers gripping her mane of blonde as she dives her lips into shin's hungry ones. she can feel shin instantaneously grabbing her by her ass and pulls her closer into the open mouthed kiss, moaning from her touch straight into shin's throat.

shin is impatient; jagged and hurried, as she devours sabine whole. her teeth found flesh so easily and efortlessly as sabine allows her to nip and bite on her bottom lip. sabine tasted shin's pure, unadulterated raw need and want bleeding into her tongue, gripping into shin's neck and hair like a lifeline.

everything felt explosive; within her, within shin, and the area around them. their bond heightened every single senses in their body and tuning them to each other and everything surrounding them. it's sending sabine to a huge overdrive.

sabine began to wince in a mix of pleasure and pain; everything pricks at her skin but it feels so good at the same time. her fingers slipped further into the back of shin's head, yanking her hard enough to pull shin out of their hungry kiss. shin, much like a hungry animal, instantly chased for skin when they separated from the kiss, her lips and teeth latching onto sabine's pulse.

"shin... it's–" sabine chokes a moan when shin sucks just right on her pulse point, "fuck… shin... we need–" a louder moan escaped her, unsure why, "shin, it's t-too much now… we need to stop… shin!"

sabine's words fell on deaf ears as shin ignores her and kept her mouth busy on her collarbones, hands roaming on her ass like it's the only thing keeping shin alive. sabine wishes she could give in to the pleasure, but the pain is getting unbearable. the hand on shin's neck pushed her down hard enough, eliciting a surprised choked moan from shin.

sabine had to pretend that the noise didn't arouse her so much more than shin already did.

"shin, we need to p-pull away..." sabine hisses sternly through pain and pleasure. when she felt the bond between them pulsing again, she had to fight back another moan. "shin, pull away. right now."

shin regained a little more coherency and restraint at the urgency in sabine's tone, nodding as she began to slowly detach herself from sabine, physically and through the force.

somehow, pulling away from each other has become more painful than when they were engulfed in each other. shin growled carnally while sabine is on the other end, clutching her whole body in her arms because of the pain.

sabine immediately shuts off the bridge between them the same time as shin did, and much like yesterday, they both laid on opposite ends with bated and uneven breaths. shin laid flat on her back against the edges of the spring, whereas sabine was on her stomach and propped on her arms weakly.

"shin," sabine breathlessly called, trying to crawl closer towards shin. she gargled on the water, choking out, "are you okay?"

shin grunts as she rises from the water. "i'm alright." she turns to find sabine beside her. "you do not look or sound as alright."

sabine shush her as she tries dragging her body upwards, flipping over wetly so she's on her back. "shut up. not everyone who just had what felt like force-sex on spice gets to walk away as easily as you do, okay? i think i fried a bunch of my nerves."

"i see you've found your eloquency back."

"fuck you."

shin kinked a brow, amused. "didn't you already?"

sabine shot her a glare, but with the flushed cheeks, it's really not putting much effect. "shin hati, i swear i'll shoot you with my blaster if you keep talking."

sabine swears she saw shin's cheeks and neck flush a faint red, but doesn't think much about it, blaming it on the heat of the hotspring. speaking of necks, sabine starts to feel the dull throb of where shin had latched on her skin, groaning loudly.

"please tell me you didn't leave any marks," sabine moans as she touches the tender spots.

shin eyes sabine's neck, a ghost of her infuriating smirk began to haunt over her lips. guiltlessly, shin says, "there are some red marks all over."

"oh, come on! i bruise easily, shin!"

"you are a lot more adorable than i thought, then."

sabine grumbled loudly, but can't really bring herself to be actually mad at shin. "i really am going to shoot you with my blaster one day."

shin tilts her head back. "i will be waiting on that." she then slowly starts to rise from the water, walking slightly bent forward while clutching her bandaged wound. sabine watches with narrowed eyes as shin struts towards their pile of clothes and armour.

sabine had suspected something, immediately rising from the water to chase shin. shin quirked her brows, expression confused, but her body is shifted away from sabine's eyes as shin fumbles over with her tunic and pants.

sabine crossed arms. "your wound opened, didn't it." when shin ignored her, sabine grabbed her by her hips to look for the injury. and sure enough, the now soaking bandage is seeping with red right where shin's wound is at. "i told you it'll reopen."

shin merely shrugs, putting on her pants and tunic over her wet clothes. she began clasping up her armour pieces, while sabine huffs and puts on her own jumpsuit, skipping her beskar pieces. she takes out the large fur coat in her bag to make room for her beskar, tossing the coat at shin.

"what is this for?" shin asks, puzzled.

sabine zips up her jumpsuit. "put it on. it's almost nightfall and it'll get cold. you're coming back with me to my camp."

shin frowns. "no. i will go back to my own."

"shin, for fuck's sake," sabine groaned, unamused, "your wound is open. you come back to your camp with a gaping wound like that, and i'll have to look for your cold body tomorrow. i doubt the bandit's camp is crawling around with medkits or droids." when shin is unmoving, sabine sighs, speaking softer, "come with me. just for the night. deal?"

shin was quiet for a few beats, before sighing curtly. "fine. just for tonight."

sabine nodded, helping shin get up on her howler. "stay slumped over so your stitches won't get any more loose."

shin nodded quietly, and sabine hops onto her howler, guiding the white howler behind her as they make their way back to the fulcrum and the noti camp. sabine made a couple turns to look back at shin, making sure she didn't fall off her howler, and was relieved each time shin stays slumped over. her white howler is swift, but is gentle with shin.

they made it back to the fulcrum in only a couple of minutes, and sabine quickly got down from her howler to help shin come down from hers. sabine saddles her bag on one shoulder, and props shin on her other shoulder as they walk into the fulcrum's landing ramp.

"huyang!!" sabine yells into the fulcrum and drops her bag haphazardly. "is the med droid online?"

huyang appeared from the lightsaber parts storage room, halted in his track as he finds an awkwardly standing sabine with shin on her shoulder, looking at him expectantly and impatiently.

"i believe it's rebooting. i'll go and check it."

sabine mutters a small 'thanks' as she drags shin towards the medbay, the sliding door hissing open and the whiff of sanitary disinfectant hits both of their nostrils. shin wrinkles her nose, disagreeing with the scent, but made no comments.

"c'mon, let's get you up on the bed."

sabine hurriedly unclasped the fur coat and diligently undoes shin's damp tunic. she turns to the shelf to grab a pair of scissors to rip open shin's bandage, tossing the damp and bloodied gauze away. she snips away at the quick-stitches and threw them. she was preparing a disinfecting wipe when the door slides open and revealed an inquisitive ahsoka.

"sabine?"

"oh, hey, 'soka." sabine nods at her master. she then began to dab the disinfectant wipe on shin's without warning or preparation.

shin instantly growled, "fuck, sabine!!" while yanking on the sleeves of sabine's jumpsuit. the blonde padawan threw her head back in pain, before shooting a rabid glare at sabine as she spits, "a warning would be nice."

sabine rolled her eyes, ignoring shin. "i told you. if your wound reopens, i'll make the restitching hurt. you wanted my promise, didn't you?"

"fuck you." shin barely hissed it out because she had to throw her head back in pain when sabine pressed the wipe on her wound harder, groaning loudly.

"lady wren, the medic droid is online." huyang calls from the doorway, just behind ahsoka. "do you still need it's assistance?"

"no."

shin glares at sabine, borderline murderous. sabine thinks it's familiar to when they first met.

ahsoka steps in, lucky for shin. "let the droid work. sabine? a word."

sabine nods, tossing her wipes away. she sneers at shin. "you're lucky tonight, shin." she skids over to let the medic droid in to the medbay, grabbing huyang by his metallic arm, softly whispering, "keep an eye on her, will you?"

huyang nods, and sabine left shin with the droids in the medbay as she struts towards the common table with ahsoka sat on it. sabine pours two cups of tea, and slides the other cup at ahsoka while she sips on her own cup.

sabine was the first to ask. "what's up?"

"did you fight her?" ahsoka nods at the medbay.

"no, i found her like that. said she ran into a different kind of bandits and someone nearly gutted her." sabine sets down her cup, crossing her arm forward. "i patched her up, but the stitches were loose. had to bring her here, else she'd spill her whole intenstines out."

ahsoka nods, slow and processing. she sighs, and sabine isn't quite sure what that meant. "do you trust her, sabine?"

"shin?" sabine's brow quirked, chuckling. "she's harmless as a loth kitten. a bit feral, but a kitten, nonetheless."

"did she come with willingly?" ahsoka shifts to face sabine, curious.

sabine shrugs. "only for the night. i don't know about next, but that's a problem for tomorrow." the mandalorian stretches her arms up high, feeling her muscles tightening in coils. "she can have my bunk, i'll sleep at the cockpit."

ahsoka chuckles. "no, you won't. stay with her."

"what do you mean stay with her?" sabine had whipped her head at ahsoka in a speed of light.

"no need to pretend like you don't like staying by her side when you're with me, padawan," ahsoka teases sabine, nudging her shoulder as she heads towards the medbay. her togrutan master had an amused look in her eyes that sabine does not like, and it doesn't help stopping herself from getting flustered. "i'm gonna have a sit down talk with her for a bit."

the medbay door closes, and sabine groans. there's really no arguing with ahsoka at this point, so sabine heads to the bunks to clear out her bunk. she shuts the door to the bunks to change from her jumpsuit to a more casual, loose fitting sleepwear clothes. subconsciously, she draws another pair of light shaded sleepwear clothes for their guest.

sabine gets out of the bunks to grab her bag and unpack her beskar pieces and stores them properly. she scatters her armguards and blasters on the common table, inspecting and polishing her weapons.

she reloaded her blasters with new rounds, and was in the middle of inspecting her armguards when the medbay door hissed open, producing ahsoka and a topless shin, with neatly stitched stomach.

sabine had to forcibly peel her eyes off of shin, and catches ahsoka telling shin, "rest for the night. we can discuss more in the morning."

shin doesn't say much, only nodding at ahsoka. sabine watches as her master gently pats shin's shoulder in a similar gesture as ahsoka always does to sabine. ahsoka heads towards the cockpit and shutting the door, leaving the two padawans in an awkward silence in the common table. huyang had left elsewhere, probably going to low power mode after rebooting the medic droid.

sabine looks at shin, who was already staring at her. the mandalorian leaves her weapons on the common table, grabbing shin by her hands to drag them towards the bunks and shutting the door behind. shin stood like a lost puppy, half naked, so sabine hands her the pair of sleep clothes.

"put these on," sabine instructed, kinking her brows, "what happened to your tunic?"

shin puts on the loose sleeveless shirt, struggling slightly due to the fresh stitches. sabine tries not to think of how adorable shin is with dishevelled hair. "your droid took it to get it cleaned. he insisted."

sabine laughs. "ah, yeah. that's huyang for you."

shin looks around curiously, holding her pauldrons. "where should i put my armour?"

"just put it on the storage compartment over there." sabine yawned, stretching her back. "you go ahead and sleep on my bunk. i'm gonna take the spare."

"and your master?"

"ahsoka? she seems content with sleeping in the cockpit. i don't blame her. she purrs in her sleep."

shin had an incredulous look on her face, but didn't comment on it. she sighs as she strips off her pants to switch into the matching sleep pants sabine gave her, before tucking into sabine's bunk. sabine watches curiously as shin squeezes far into the wall, leaving space beside her, turning to look at sabine expectantly.

"there's more than enough space here."

"what, you want me to sleep with you?"

shin shot her a look. "do not pretend like you weren't considering it. i can still feel your thoughts."

sabine tries to argue, but purses her lips anyway. she huffs, taming down the blush rising on her chest. "fine, alright. stop peeping into my brain."

shin shuffles as sabine lays down beside her, a faint smirk curling up her lips. "i am not. besides, there isn't much to look into anyway."

sabine wanted to say something snarky back at shin, but watching shin with her dishevelled hair and face much too close than sabine expected, she couldn't stop herself from letting her gaze drop to shin's lips. without thinking, sabine caught shin's lips in hers, smirking in satisfaction when shin made a noise akin to a soft mewl. it was swiftly replaced with shin kissing her back hungrily in rushed little pecks.

"eager, aren't we?" sabine mutters in half-whispers against shin's lips, pulling back teasingly when she frustratedly tries to chase sabine's lips. she supressed a moan when one of shin's hands grips at her hip, rewarding the blonde padawan with another kiss and tugs at her now reddening lower lip.

shin doesn't reply verbally, opting to slot one of her thighs between sabine's, humming in satisfaction when the mandalorian instinctively bucked her hips against her. when she spoke again, her voice is husked and low, "you were saying?"

sabine sighed, finding shin's hungry gaze again.

oh, this is definitely going to be a long night.

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endwersed · 3 months

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striking out, chapter one of six - a sterek college au

Theo is Derek's new teammate on the college baseball team. Theo is also Stiles' piece of shit boyfriend.

“What did Theo do to win you over?” Derek presses. “Grand gesture at the big football game?” “He stopped shoving me in lockers for a year and asked me out for curly fries.” Stiles shrugs a casual shoulder at the distressed look Derek shoots him. “I really like curly fries.” “Right,” Derek says slowly. “I’m – starting to think bully might have been the right word, actually.” “It’s not as after school special as it sounds,” Stiles assures him. “I was a huge nerd. A lot of the sports guys liked shoving me into lockers in middle school. He’s just the only one that got the hots for me once I started to grow my hair out.” “Very romantic,” Derek says drily. “I’m sure Hallmark will be reaching out for the story rights in no time.”

#sterek #my fic #i did it!! it's finally posted!!!#this is the longest thing i've ever written and it FELT IT #i promised myself i'd start doing actual fic promo on tumblr so..... here #🫣

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giurochedadomani · 4 months

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“Mmm— That’s nice”, Shanks whispers in Mihawk’s ear, encouraging as the swordsman finds a rhythm grinding against him. Hands slowly tracing his legs settle loosely around the other’s waist. He thinks about the duel, and about their knives, and wonders why not knowing how to do a thing is such an unmatched horror for the other. “How did it go down?”, he asks, adding a quiet “your little dream” when Mihawk frowns.

The swordsman opens his mouth, and for a moment Shanks thinks that he’s going to actually share details— that he’s going to get him to dirty talk, the serious bastard— but then he huffs, hands freezing on Shanks’ shoulders. Well, then.

It’s the thing with Mihawk, this whole— putting himself in a position that invites Shanks to step in, but never actually telling him when and how to do so, and then getting mad, as if Shanks is supposed to magically know. Not for the first time he wonders if it’s some sort of test, if the other wants to make sure that he’s a worthy companion, and although he usually likes the challenge, it’s the root cause more often than not of his headaches.

Shanks kisses his cheek to avoid Mihawk noticing the bit of frustration growing on him, and then continues down the other’s neck, leisurely, focusing on a point over his collarbone that makes him hiss, and then whimper when Shanks starts sucking on it. Trying to picture Mihawk’s reaction if he does leave a hickey, automatically he makes a mental note to pay attention to which places would be best (more visible) to leave one, taking in account Mihawk’s open coat.

Their encounter on the beach comes to his thoughts, and he licks his hand and sneaks it between them, giggling when Mihawk’s indignant squeak (that judgy look that says nasty) breaks into a moan when he wraps it around their cocks.

“Shanks”, Mihawk warns, curving against him as he loses the remnants of his composure in the face of Shanks’ relentless attack. Little whines pull out of him against his will. With his face flush, eyes closed, as he grinds against Shanks’ grip on them, he’s the hottest sight the captain has ever laid his eyes upon.

“Come on, sweetheart, tell me. You can tell me”, he insists, attacking as well the other side of Mihawk’s neck, his hands a vice grip around the other’s back.

“Shanks”, the swordsman warns again, a bit more desperate. He wonders whether he’s about to make him come then and there, heart beating excitedly at the prospect. “I— Nnnn— You were— You used— your tongue on me”.

Oh?

#mishanks #akagami no shanks #dracule mihawk #one piece #one piece live action #opla #it's slowly making its bid to be the longest fic I've ever written #and it's pure filth #not sure how I feel about that #xDDDDDD #fic update

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astrobei · 1 year

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take a little moment (find the right words)

“Wow,” Will breathes out, just on this edge of teasing. “You sound very confident about this.” “Well,” Mike shrugs, swallowing hard in a desperate attempt to soothe his very, very dry mouth, “I don’t know why someone wouldn’t be interested in you.” “Oh?” Will says, and it’s definitely teasing now, enough for Mike to feel himself turning warm, all down his neck and to the tips of his own – sadly unpatterned – socks. “Someone?” “Yeah.” Mike nods. Oh, god. This is fine. “In a very arbitrary sense of the word. Just– people. Someone.”

Mike is approximately ninety-eight percent sure that his feelings are requited. That last two percent, however, has really been throwing him for a loop.

for @wiseatom <3

#it's here !! aka what i have lovingly dubbed the btr fic despite there being more one direction references in this than btr #whatever #thea this one's for u #sorry for being horrible and 4 months late but this was one of the most fun fics i've ever written so i hope you enjoy !!#also for the record i am projecting so so heavily onto mike wheeler here #like i always do that lbr #but so extra hard in this one #i know modern aus aren't everyone's cup of tea but i'm asking you to pretty please give this a shot bc modern hcs are some of my most #favorite things to think about #anyways #the second longest oneshot i've ever written #and for a second there i thought it would top the diner fic. oops #byler #byler fic #mike wheeler #will byers

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agoddamn · 1 month

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permafrost, ~6600 words (!!)

Warframe, Loid & Tagfer & Necraloid, gen rating

Tagfer finds out that a bunch of animals aren't great nursemaids for a sick human.

#warframe #loid warframe #alloid #tagfer #my fic #fanfic #albrecht entrati #necraloid #hey remember how this got second lowest on that poll i did. well it's done and it's 6500 words which is the longest fic i've ever written #whump be upon ye

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the-ominous-owl · 1 year

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the sentient halo au, she is complete

The Halo doesn’t like the warehouse.

It’s the first thing Ava notices as she follows Bea inside, still reeling slightly from their moment against the jeep, from the intensity, then sudden lack thereof. Bea still hasn’t looked at her, and her brief, loaded exchange with Michael had ignited an ache in Ava’s chest that Ava doesn’t know how to deal with. She wants, desperately, to catch Bea’s arm, to drag her back outside, to make the kind of dangerous promises Ava has no way to keep, promises like I’ll never leave you or Everything’s going to be okay.

But she can’t, because the Halo doesn’t like the warehouse. It’s buzzing nervously under Ava’s skin to urge her forward, so instead of hooking her arm around Bea’s waist and dragging her away, Ava just follows her inside, adjusting her pace until they’re walking side-by-side and trying to ignore the way the Halo had started shivering against her spine the moment she’d crossed the threshold and hasn’t stopped yet.

Inside, the warehouse is sparse but not empty, and not unoccupied. Stacks of wooden pallets and ancient, rusting shipping containers serve as perches and leaning posts for just under a dozen people, all of whom are masking varying levels of anxiety under a thin veneer of affected insouciance. They perk up when Michael enters, but their enthusiasm visibly dims when they catch sight of Ava and Beatrice behind him, each expression shifting to land somewhere along a spectrum of curiosity and concern.

The one standing in the centre of the space – a woman that Ava vaguely recognises from the bar – shifts to the side as Michael approaches, revealing the man behind her isn’t standing so much as hanging from his bound hands, suspended from a crane hook and looking surprisingly unbothered by it.

read on ao3

#AND WE'RE DONE #if you're still reading ty i love you #this is easily the longest thing i've ever written #idk how that happened #but i hope you like it #sentient halo au #warrior nun fic #warrior nun #owly writes things

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dreamhot · 9 months

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all i need's a fraction of your happy heart (all i need is you)

dnf | 14.7k | E

my piece for the dtblr summer fic exchange, written for @moonthreadsz <3

George's friends knew him as the type to roll his eyes at verbal declarations of affection or scoff at the melodrama of a romcom, all while his private heart would clench at the thought of someone experiencing a meet-cute so watershed that it effectively divided their life into before and after. - He could only half-admit it even then, caught in the throes of delirious exhaustion and a depressive isolation so bone deep it felt terminal, but even if the desire had to claw its way out of the deepest recesses of his blockaded heart... he wanted his after.

or: a non-cc au in which inevitability overcomes a lifetime of doubt

ao3

#dreamnotfound #dreamnotfound fic #dnf #dnf fic #idr my fic tag um #i'll figure that out later #FOR MY BDAY PLS READ MY FIC IT'S LIKE THE LONGEST THING I'VE EVER WRITTEN SOMEHOW .

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whattraintracks · 2 months

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22. Puzzling - TMNT 2012

Don't worry, guys, that wasn't supposed to happen.

When the bit of Kraang tech he's examining (read: poking randomly in the hopes that something will happen) explodes, Donatello's not sure if he or Raphael shrieks louder. He thinks it's Raph. Which would be way funnier under different circumstances.

He blinks against sooty particulates. "Huh, well, that wasn't supposed to happen."

He's amid a cloud of unexpectedly thick, slightly pink smoke. Which is on-brand but frankly annoying. He waves at the air in a vain attempt to disperse it. Maybe he can move this operation to the kitchen, work under the exhaust hood. He should probably install one in here. He gives up flailing his arms, and backs away from the desk. Step one to solving any problem is getting some distance. Step two is—oh, that's weird. The cloud doesn't seem to have moved since the initial explosion. What kind of particles are these? He hasn't seen Kraang tech do this before.

The moment he remembers Raph is also the moment he trips over him. With a yelp, he hits the ground. Hard. Raph giggles. Rude. He's going to have at least two bruises tomorrow. And his scream was definitely louder than Raph's, so he's lost any right to make fun.

"Dude," Donnie groans, pushing to his feet. At least he's away from the Kraang smoke, "Why'd you trip me?"

"I don't know," comes the high-pitched reply, "Why're you so big?"

By the time his eyes clear, he's pretty sure it's a genuine question, not an insult about his height. It makes more sense once he looks down, down, down to find Raph miniaturised.

Donnie throws his hands to his head. "That wasn't supposed to happen, either!" Raph just giggles again.

"Leo!"

As far as they can tell, based on Raph's appearance and memories, he's about five. Donnie can't even remember being that young. Which he counts as a good thing because kids are weird. Or maybe that's just mutant turtle kids. He doesn't have experience with normal children to establish a baseline. Leo and Sensei do, though, and they seem unperturbed by Raph's behavior. Even Mikey takes the whole thing in stride. He is, in fact, absolutely thrilled and oscillates between gathering blackmail material and doing whatever Raph asks.

Donnie will admit he's having trouble making sense of it all. First, and he thinks he’s mentioned this, that was not supposed to happen. He can't figure out how a broken Kraang tech part without any detectable energy source could have caused something like this. Which naturally leads to the question of how he's meant to fix it. Raph has no idea what happened, either, so he's no help. Worse, he just might be the most confusing being Donnie has ever met. Take yesterday, for example.

He's not sure what time it is when he stumbles out of the lab for breakfast, so it might not technically be in the range of the day at which it is appropriate to call a meal breakfast. His brain is too full of viscous pink Kraang smoke to care. It must be some mealtime because everyone but Master Splinter is in the kitchen when he arrives. Leo is at the island supervising Raph and Mikey's mess-making by the stove.

Raph perks up, "Hey Donnie! I wanna tell you a question."

"Ask nicely, Raph," Leo reminds, hiding a smile behind the rim of his tea cup.

"Please, I wanna tell you a question." He barrels on, "How do you open your labrador?”

Open his what? Donnie stares at the space above Raph's head, trying to parse the question until a nudge from Leo resets his brain. "Say what?"

"Your labrador!" He flings his arms out, nearly knocking himself to the floor. Mikey catches the lip of his shell just in time.

“What Labrador? Raph, I don't have a—”

“Yeah, you do!” He's angry of a sudden. Of course, he is. But it's weird. It's not the first time Donnie's made him mad since the incident, but he's never gotten in anyone's face or stormed off with a huff. He just screeches until he gets whatever it is that he wants. It's Raph's anger, but it's not. “It’s how you get to the place you do all your smart stuff!"

Mikey swoops in, crouching to squeeze Raph gently, then translates, “He means the door to your lab, bro.”

“The door? Oh. Why would—?" Donnie sighs heavily, sinking into the stool next to Leo. “Raph, that’s the lab door,” he enunciates, “Not a Labrador. A Labrador is a dog breed."

Just like that, Raph's face unscrunches into something thoughtful. “So it’s not a labrador?”

Well, at least the exasperation is familiar. "I literally just said that. It’s a normal door.” Leo clicks at him warningly. Come on, what is he supposed to do here? Seriously, this feels surreal. Maybe this whole dialogue is a dream, and he's hunched over his desk right now. He straightens his shell to test for any worse-than-usual aching.

“Okay," Raph says. Then he turns around. Just like that. As if the entire conversation never happened. Never mind his original question or whatever he was trying to ask. He makes no sense, literally none at all.

But, you know what, fine. Donnie has to eat anyway so he can go back to the "place where he does all his smart stuff" or whatever. So he can figure out how to get his actual brother back, who at least makes sense most of the time.

Leo finishes his tea, returning Raph's enthusiastic wave goodbye, and then there are three. Mikey and Raph finally settle down to eat whatever noxious concoction they've whipped up as Donnie cleans his dishes. Freshly fed, his brain refills with extradimensional smoke and engineering.

"Well, that's boring!"

He fumbles with his mug at the sudden shout. A glance over his shoulder finds Raph, who had been eating quietly, now glaring at him.

“You should name that boring normal door Labrador so we can just call it that anyway," he says firmly.

He's not sure why he tries to ask, “Why would I—”

“Or or!" And it's like a switch again, anger suddenly dissipating. "We could name it something cooler! Like Thundoor from Crognard!”

“Thundarr,” He corrects. It's too late, Mikey's joins in.

“That’s awesome, little dude!" Mikey laughs buoyantly. "We should name all the furniture!”

“Yeah!”

And Donnie is so tired and so lost, and Raph is too much and too little of his brother at the same time it’s not even funny anymore. He doesn't think it ever was.

“Come one, Dee!" Mikey hoists Raph onto his shoulders, naturally content to ignore the messy kitchen. "Help Raphie and I name everything in the lair!”

Donnie tries to shake his head as Raph reaches for him. “Can you! Can you, please? Just for a little bit, please, Donnie, please?” Oh, now he recalls his manners.

"No, Raph." He bangs his mug onto the drying rack, ignoring Mikey's frown. "I don't have time for your nonsense questions and weird games. I'm trying to fix you."

It's not until he slams closed the lab door that the words trailing after his dramatic exit finally click. A puzzled sort of muttering from Raph: "Fix me? But I’m not broken."

So maybe he got a little too worked up, as tired as he was. But he's better now! He's eaten. He's slept five hours. He's determined to sit here until he cracks this thing.

And then someone bangs on the door.

He drops his head with a groan. How is he supposed to heroically solve all of their problems in these conditions? “Who is it, and what do you want," he shouts into the pages of his notebook.

"Once a second!"

One second, he mouths to himself. He listens to Raph struggle with the door for a lot of seconds and hopes he'll give up. He probably won't. Donnie better unlock it before he hurts himself. Or worse, starts screaming. Only because Leo would find some way to blame Donnie for it.

He shoves the door open, not at all irritated. Or vindicated either, when Raph falls on his shell and his sai skitter across the floor. Wait. “I thought Sensei took those out of your—Hey!”

Five-year-old Raph may not be much of a ninja but he is pretty slippery. He scrambles under Donnie's arm and launches into the rolling desk chair.

“Raphael." He glowers, summoning his inner Leo, "You are not allowed in the lab—”

“Without you,” he recites, spinning the chair so Donnie only catches glimpses of his cheeky smile. “But you’re here too! So it’s okay.”

It most definitely is not. Raph has no understanding of lab safety right now, so if Raph stays in here, then Donnie will have to keep an eye on him, and if Donnie has to watch Raph, then he can't focus on his work. He does not want Raph in here, and he says so.

“Donnie, I'll be so so so good. Please!” Oh, Mikey absolutely taught him how to do that with his eyes. Not cool, Mike.

“Raph," Donnie faux whines back. "I need to work. Go play with Leo or Mikey."

"Ugh," Raph flops onto his shell, letting his head and limbs hang. “But Sensei and Leo are medating, and Mikey’s with Red."

“Meditating," he corrects, "And I know you know her name is April.”

“Casey calls her Red.”

“Yeah, well, Casey’s a—” Raph looks at him with wide, innocent eyes. A promise on his face that anything Donnie says will be repeated. "It’s polite to call people by their name."

Raph hums, continuing to spin idly, “But I don't call you Donatello, I call you Donnie. And you call me Raph or sometimes Fai.”

Not a bad point. But what was that second thing? Fai? Oh. His brain retrieves fuzzy, forgotten memories. That's right. When they were both little, that had been his nickname for Raph. Just between the two of them. He can't remember when he stopped using it.

“Right," he says slowly. "But those are nicknames. They're a shorter version of your name.”

“Oh, okay.” Then Raph rolls out of the chair, clunking to the ground shell first, and wanders away to explore the lab.

Donnie retakes the seat, resigning himself to further interruptions. Part of his brain is devoted to thinking up better excuses in case this is one of those conversations Raph returns to without warning. The rest of his awareness is on Raph as he pokes and prods at books and equipment and even poor Timothy. It takes the better part of a half hour for him to realise he's still sitting at his desk not moving a muscle.

He growls, gripping his head. Raph is on him in an instant. "What's wrong? Can I help? Do you need a book? Do you want one of mine? I can get Leo! Or Sensei, or—"

"No," Donnie snaps.

He gapes as Raph's beak trembles and his eyes fill with tears. "You're crying. Why are you crying? Please stop crying." He slides to the floor next to Raph, "I'm sorry? It's just. I'm trying to focus! I need to fix you, but I don't—"

“I don’t want you to fix me!” He shouts, scrubbing his face and hiccupping. “I just want to play! Why won’t you play with me anymore?"

“Raph, I," Donnie looks down at his hands, "I don’t have time,” he finishes lamely.

“Yes, you do! You’re just being mean!” He runs out of the lab. Probably to someone who actually understands him. Someone who tries. Donnie wonders if he’ll ever stop messing things up for Raph.

Because as far as they can tell, this version of Raph went to bed one day, and the family he found upon waking was suddenly different. Of course, Raph is frustrated and confused and probably a little scared. He's not just normal Raph in a smaller body. Donnie might've realised that sooner if he'd spent more time with him instead of causing one mess after the other and then hiding from it all in his lab.

Donnie doesn't remember when he was five, but he's heard Sensei's stories about their childhood. The ones about his younger self hanging on Raph's every word. That one embarrassing retelling of the biggest fight Donnie ever caused by announcing Raph was his favorite brother. His father's memories of them doing everything together, at least until Donnie really got into science. So he steps out of the lab and locks it behind him. His brother, this brother, needs to come first.

He must look contrite enough that Leo only grills him a little before he points to Raph's room. After a single breath of indecision, he sits, shell against the door.

“Hey, Fai?” he starts, tugging at his fingers, “I’m really sorry. I have been pretty mean lately, haven’t I?” It takes a few moments, but a little thud echoes on the other side of the door.

Relieved, he continues, “I’m not as good at this as I used to be. I might need your help. But I’m out of my lab right now, and we can play whatever you want.”

Donnie hits the floor before he realises the door has swung open. Little Raph is looking down at him, eyes still watery but excited. "Really? Anything? Even Space Heroes!"

And Donnie almost can't believe it's that easy. He smiles with Raph's infectious joy. “Space Heroes? Who are you, Leo?”

Raph collapses into him with a laugh that banishes the rest of his tears as Donnie reaches out, tickling him just like he's seen their big brother do. He's still giggling when Donnie staggers to his feet. “Think I could use some bedding to build us the Dauntless?”

Raph cheers. Launching into an explanation of his favorite episodes and characters as he directs them around the lair to collect supplies. If this isn't blackmail material, Donnie doesn't know what is. Raph will never be able to deny that he likes Space Heroes ever again. Once Donnie figures out how to reverse this Kraang-smoke-induced de-aging that is.

He does still have to. They need Raph as he should be: their teammate, their protector, their equal. But if he were here in those roles right now, Donnie knows he would have heard a thousand times over that he needs to sleep, to eat, to take a break for at least five minutes, Don, come on.

So he'll try. He'll take breaks to hang out with his favorite brother. He'll get a lot of experience building sheet spaceships and pillow forts. And by the end of it all, Donnie will realise his little brother really does just want to play and ask silly questions that probably don’t seem so silly to him. He'll decide this little version of Raph isn't a puzzle of confusing emotions. He's the same pieces he's always been, unfiltered and untethered from all the pain and fear of their older selves.

And so, even after Raph returns to 16, whenever the thought creeps up on Donnie that he's not doing enough, that he needs to fix it. He'll lock his lab behind him and say, "Hey, Fai! Wanna play something?"

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oriley42 · 5 months

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TGIF

Chapters: 1/10 Fandom: House M.D. Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Gregory House/James Wilson Characters: Gregory House, James Wilson (House M.D.), Lisa Cuddy, Eric Foreman (House M.D.), Robert Chase, Allison Cameron, Stacy Warner Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Groundhog Day (1993) Fusion, Time Loop, Slow Burn, Flirting, First Kiss, First Time, (ad infinitum), Pining, Pining while fucking, Rough Sex, Tender Sex, Gratuitous Smut, Angst, Humor, Fluff, background duckling arcs, background Choreman, Cuddy's bisexual awakening, Time loop contextual:, Depression, Self-Harm, Suicide, Violence, Murder, Dubious Consent, but also:, Hope, Personal Growth, Devotion, Love Confessions, Happy Ending

Summary: House is stuck living the same Friday over and over and over and over again. A Groundhog Day AU with a medical mystery, the pursuit of true love, and egregious references to Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell.

#house md #hatecrimes md #hilson #hilson fic #my fic #because it isn't an oriley42 fic posting if it's not a bleary-eyed 11 PM on a weeknight #anyway this is the longest thing i've ever written in my life!#hope y'all house x wilson folks enjoy <3

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flusteredfools · 2 months

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Rough sketches of chibi FaeY/N (nicknamed Faeyn now) be upon ye! kept thinking about a lil bit of a role reversal with Faeful Hearts and so I might have to write a lil one-shot for the drabbles soon. If even just for myself. A Fa(e)te Reversal Au of an Au? XD

eventually I'll write up a lil short for each one and how they Meet Faeyn.

Lil sketches of Eclipse's Clover, Sunny's Blossom and Moon's Mouse.

#okay now back to writing the main series chapter #also did you know faeful hearts is like less than 1k words from 100k #I might cry #it's my longest fic i've ever written #and i'm so glad there's people who like it #faeful hearts au #fnaf dca #faeful hearts #faeful arts #faete reversal #y/n #y/n x dca #dca au

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magicaldreamfox1 · 5 months

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i know what you desire (you're such a bad, bad liar)

— chapter 7: shoot your shot

Vegas is a good teacher. It totally doesn't make Pete's heart skip a beat.

#WAHHHH #i made it before the end of the year everyone clap and cheer for me #this it the longest thing i've ever written. enjoy 🫶#vegaspete #kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche fic #bl shows #my fics #usertph #userboots #saturntracks #sugar daddy au

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ssukidesu · 3 months

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Inextricably Knotted (an Inukag + Jane Eyre AU) [Chapter 7]

Summary: Kagome Higurashi was orphaned as a baby and raised by her cruel aunt until the age of ten, after which she went to school and learned the art of service and self-suppression. Now eighteen, Kagome takes a job as the governess of Shippo, the young ward of the great and mysterious Lord Inuyasha Taisho.

But as Kagome gets to know her bemusing master, a ghost seems to haunt his estate, hinting that there is a long-lost secret hiding on the third floor.

(Read on AO3)

tag list: @heynikkiyousofine @xanthippe-writes

Chapter 7: Portraits and Wings

The presence of guests at Jidai-Ju Hall persisted into the following weekend. The days were not much changed—Shippo received most of her attention, even though she received very little of his. Despite his fascination with the goings on of the company, Kagome managed during most lessons to wrench some productivity out of him.

During the evenings, Kagome would sit as she was bid among their company silently. Her presence clearly disconcerted everyone—except him who ordered it, as he instead preferred to ignore her altogether. Kagome would pretend not to notice as she read lines of whatever book she chose to accompany her that night, with varying degrees of success.

The group would often play games—cards, billiards, darts, guessing games, and so on. Tonight—which was a misty Saturday night that hinted at spring's approach—it appeared the game of choice would be charades.

It was Mr. Taisho’s idea. “Let us test the skill of our silence,” he had proclaimed dramatically as he came into the parlor last, as he always did. The room bustled in anticipation, and during the commotion, he walked over to grab a book off the shelf adjacent to Kagome’s seat.

“Will you play?” he asked simply, gaze flicking to her face for a brief moment.

Surprised by the address, Kagome only shook her head.

To her relief, he did not insist. He returned to the heart of the room and declared himself the partner of the woman of the hour.

Lady Yura sported a fine dress of pale blue, floral buds of beads and lace decorating the sweetheart bust and form-fitting sleeves. Her short hair was distinctly straight, and a dainty white ribbon worked to frame her face as a headband. The other women in the room donned similar, though less remarkable, attire. The men wore typical vests and shed their coats once the fire’s heat permeated the room. Mr. Taisho shared the fashion.

The other pairs were named: Kagura with Ayame—the young demoness with brown hair—and Naraku with Kouga—the unfortunate recipient of Ayame’s too-frequent affections. In the last few days, Kagome had learned that both Ayame and Kouga were wolf demons, and Naraku and Kagura were some other type seemingly unassociated with a specific animal. But whatever they were, they were indeed kin of some sort, though the precise kind evaded Kagome still.

With the parties ready, Mr. Taisho opened the book, which housed charade prompts. “Who would like to go first?” he asked.

“I think we should, dear Inuyasha,” said Yura. “Someone must show everyone how it’s to be done.”

As Kagome’s grasp of the nuances between each relationship deepened, she found Yura’s air of confidence surprisingly fragile. The woman’s beauty proved unmatched; however, whenever her desired devotee did not fully satisfy her with their attention, her expression became strained, and her smile fabricated. And worse for her, Kagome thought for certain that Mr. Taisho noticed, too.

Perhaps more than anyone else, Kagome watched her master as he navigated through the weeds and waves of whatever bog this party was proving itself to be. But he did not miss a beat—every joke, he built upon masterfully; every flirt, he returned with charm. And yet, Kagome was becoming less and less convinced of the truth of her master’s affections for the woman.

When she first arrived, Kagome bristled and flinched at Mr. Taisho’s smiles and trifles with Lady Yura. But Kagome’s observations—once she gained the courage to allow them—revealed that their companionship was quite hollow.

And this was not merely the hopeful opinion of a naive girl. Kagome watched herself just as carefully, and she was confident that she was seeing with the undeceived eyes of a self-controlled woman: indeed, Kagome saw that Lord Inuyasha was going to marry Lady Yura—for rank, for family. But not for love.

And this game of charades, with all of its coquetry and costume and comedy, was nothing more than the ironic pastime of the larger parody between the players.

What frustrated Kagome the most was that, where Lady Yura failed to genuinely please Mr. Taisho, Kagome saw where she would have succeeded. Lady Yura was all too upfront: where she brushed the master’s shoulder, a subtle smirk would have proven more effective. Where she feigned bashfulness, a statement of distant confidence would have won. With the certainty of a woman, Kagome now knew what her heart had felt from the beginning: it was she who understood Mr. Taisho best. He was not to them what he was to her. They were akin to each other—more than any pair with so different experiences could be. Kagome was certain that she and Mr. Taisho shared more sympathy in a single passing glance than Yura could manage wrangling out of an entire evening.

And with all of this, Kagome remembered his words to her so many months ago: You’ve never felt jealousy, have you, Miss Higurashi? Of course you haven’t—for that would require that you experience love, first. When the day finally comes that you feel the prick, you’ll learn that one can only feel jealousy when the person usurping your love is truly better than you.

Kagome indeed did not feel jealous of Lady Yura. But the heartbreak was no easier. Perhaps if the woman had been a lady of grace and kindness, of wit and wisdom, Kagome would have been capable of blessing the union with all her heart. But it was the inferiority of Lady Yura—her inability to earnestly charm him—that kept Kagome discontented with her impending union with her master. Because he was going to marry her anyway.

Thus, she sat silently in her seat and watched as Mr. Taisho and Lady Yura, now dawning half-complete costumes relating to whatever their prompt was, enacted some sort of ceremony. The lady wore a white curtain about her body over her dress, and she draped a corner of it over her head and face like a veil. Mr. Taisho had restored his black coat to his person and added his top hat to the mix, and he filled his hands with the contents of a now-vacant flower vase and offered them to her on bended knee.

“Proposal!” cried Ayame.

“Love,” said Kouga.

“Groom!” tried Kagura.

“Bride,” concluded Kouga.

Naraku sat absently, seemingly uninterested in the game.

The two actors signed that Kouga’s latest answer was the first word in the phrase. They then disappeared behind the makeshift curtain to prepare their second performance. In the interim, Kagura leaned over to Naraku from her place beside him for a curt whisper, most likely a rebuke for his lack of enthusiasm. He met her scowl with equal fervor.

When Mr. Taisho and Lady Yura returned, their appearances had changed. Some Middle Eastern fabric had been retrieved and fashioned into scarves, which draped about the lady’s head and the master’s neck, respectively. The pair proceeded to mimic the Genesis meeting of Rebecca and Eliezer at the well—another allusion to matrimony. The only things missing were the camels.

“Bridewell,” said Kouga pridefully, and the players assented. Kagome smiled at Kouga’s obvious self-satisfaction, and she flicked her gaze to Mr. Taisho, who also seemed amused by his friend's joyous victory. Her master’s dark brows quirked, and his lips twitched into a subtle smirk.

It was then the turn of the two gentlemen, who halfheartedly managed to perform “French Ballroom” with an abundance of proud jabs at the invoked inferior country. Ayame and Kagura somehow enacted “Aurora Borealis”, the revelation taking many hard minutes of struggle from all parties.

The game ended around midnight. Kagome could not have guessed the time, as she felt so far from sleepy that she wondered if she would get any rest at all after retiring. She kept picturing Yura in her blue dress, fingers pressed against Mr. Taisho’s shoulder as they conferred together during the other pairs’ performances.

Kagome would not paint tonight, the mess seeming burdensome, but she could make do with the colored pencils that Lady Kaede had brought her alongside the paints. She began at her own desk, her draft sketches swirling and scraping on the first white page. But soon, the window above her space was abandoned by the moonlight. She had only one candle to spare, and though it had another couple of hours remaining, it was not enough.

It was likely around one thirty. Everyone would be asleep, she assured herself. Kagome gathered her materials—the pages pressed between her arm and torso and the pencils clenched in her right fist—and gripped her candle. She departed from her room and turned down the westward hallway. She came upon her desired place—a large bay window that would bear moonlight for another hour or two. Its cushioned bench was large and would fit her easily. She settled herself, placed her candle on the sill, and continued her work. She completed the final version of the first piece—its flawless face, shining black hair, and pale blue dress filling the page masterfully—only thirty minutes after; she filed it beneath her new page and began working again. She would not use color for this one.

Kagome did not know how much time it took, but she was soon finished with her own portrait. She raised and compared the two—submitting to her purpose in drawing them. Lady Yura’s was titled: “An Accomplished Lady of Rank.” Her own, which brought a cringing curl to her lip and an emptiness to her chest, was titled: “A Governess, Disconnected, Poor, and Plain.” Kagome exhaled, satisfied with her efforts in humbling her recent illogic.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” inquired a voice from beyond the raised portraits.

She managed to smother her squeal of surprise. Lowering the papers and inhaling deeply, she admired Mr. Taisho’s curious face and ruffled sleeping clothes—his white shirt again open near the collar, exposing the top sliver of his muscled chest, and loose red pants—akin to his red coat, she noticed. As frightful as his appearance often was, there was a beauty to his ruggedness, to his long hair and wrinkled shirt, to his broad shoulders and strong legs. But she was forgetting herself—forgetting already the lesson to which she had dedicated the last few hours.

She cleared her throat and brought her legs closer to herself. “Just drawing. I couldn’t sleep. And you?”

“I walk the grounds sometimes, when I’m restless. Such is part of my duties as lord here, anyway.”

“I see.”

A beat. “Can I look at them? Your drawings.”

Kagome swallowed hard, panic swelling in her chest. “I don’t know…”

Her hesitance brought a challenging look to his face. “Come on, where’s the harm? Have you made something horrible? Intimate, perhaps?”

“All my works are intimate.”

“Yes, but none have been so much so that you’ve hidden them from me before.”

“And how would you know that?” she shot back. “If I’m hiding some, by necessity you would know nothing about them.”

His smile was wolfish. “Ah. An admission?”

Kagome scowled. “A criticism of logic.”

Air left his nose in a puff. “Do you mind if I light a cigar? You’ve your creature comforts; I’d like my own.”

“I don’t mind,” she said.

He sat himself on the other side of the bench, situating his legs so that they mirrored hers. Kagome suddenly felt bashful about her slipperless feet. He seemed to notice them simultaneously, and she slid them backwards to hide them somewhat under her night gown. He made no comment, himself having bare feet, opting instead to place his cigar between his lips and pull a match from his pocket. The movement jostled the sleeves of his shirt, and Kagome noticed a single thin bandage wrapped around his forearm—exactly where he had been burned. Kagome would have asked him how it was possible that he had not fully healed after so many weeks, but the words would not form. The match’s fire erupted passionately when it scratched against his flint, then soothed to a subtle flicker. Once its duty was fulfilled, Mr. Taisho snuffed the flame. The first ring of smoke obscured his piercing gaze like a ghostly curtain.

Kagome peaked back down at the portraits in her lap. She pulled Yura’s out from beneath her own and studied it. What would be its effect on her master? The curiosity came upon her like a muse. “I don’t mind if you see this one,” she said finally, pulling it out and handing it to him.

He looked surprised at her acquiescence, his golden eyes flicking down to the paper only after he was assured by the certainty on her face. A moment passed before he spoke. “A beautiful picture of Lady Yura. You’ve captured her essence, certainly.”

Her toes curled beneath her dress. “But do you like it?”

His eyes flicked up at hers for only a second, a strange lilt in his brow forming at her inquiry. “As well as I like the person whom it depicts.”

Kagome puzzled at the riddle. She didn’t dare question his meaning further with words; instead, she felt a sudden courage unfolding in her ribs. “If I show you the other one, would it receive a more detailed review?”

Inuyasha smiled, then released a puff of smoke from his pursed lips. “If you wish.”

Wordlessly, Kagome unsheathed the second page from her lap and handed it to him. His clawed fingers took hold.

The silence was unbearable. She bit her lip and shrunk down to hide herself between her shoulders and behind her knees. Her elbows dug into her ribs like a clamp.

When he looked up, the reproachful disappointment on his face made her feel her own adolescence more than she had in years. When he spoke, his voice was slow, calculated. “The one of Yura was nothing short of perfection. This one, on the other hand… I must withhold my praise.”

She could have thrown up. Averting her eyes to the window, she focused on the moon as it peaked and wove through wispy clouds. “Why?”

“Because this is the only work of yours I’ve seen that houses a lie.”

Her head whipped back to face him. His look was serious, if not a little irritated—probably mimicking her own. “And what lie is that?”

Inuyasha retained his harsh expression, but he leaned forward till his elbows draped over his knees. “You dishonor yourself.” He brought a hand to brush an orphaned lock of hair from her face, reminding her that this was the second time he’d seen it down. His voice quieted for their increased proximity. “Do you want to hear my criticisms in greater detail?”

Kagome felt her jaw clench. She remembered the purpose behind her two drawings, and she could not help but feel that he was spitting on her efforts of self-preservation. Her words were clipped. “You may find fault with it, but a piece cannot be criticized for reflecting an artist’s thoughts and feelings. Such is the nature of art.”

His eyes seared into her own despite their focus out the window. His voice carried a firmness that reminded her of a lost friend. “A romantic attitude. But while an artist may claim immunity to mechanical criticism for such reasons, they cannot claim immunity to criticism of the perceptions themselves that produced the piece. No one is ever immune to being critiqued for their thoughts and feelings. In fact, it is these things alone that are worth criticism. All else—social rank, familial history, physical characteristics…” he paused, finally succeeding in regaining her strangely watery gaze, “…are arbitrary. Wasn’t it you who said you cared far more about judging me for the characteristics of mine you couldn’t see?”

As if struck dumb, Kagome only nodded. He tilted the page to make it visible to her, and she relented, leaning forward to join his scrutiny.

He spoke slowly, “Here, you’ve intentionally emphasized the slightest trace of defect and neutered every point of expression that gives life and light to your countenance. You’ve drained your color, dulled your eyes. Your lips have been dried out. Your lashes thinned. I have not once seen this expression on your face; even now, as annoyed as you are with me, your cheeks are alive, your eyes large with lighted emotion. Your lips…” His gaze traced her physiognomy as he spoke. Reorienting himself at her eyes, he concluded, “And you’ve left something out.”

When he didn’t elaborate, she bemoaned her curiosity and took the bait. “What have I forgotten?” Her voice sounded strange to her own ears.

His smile was half tender, half menacing. “Your wings.”

Kagome couldn’t help the tension-relieving laugh that escaped her upturned lips. Whatever he said about the color in her face, she was sure it was growing now. She folded her arms and situated her unburdened legs to cross beneath her. “My wings are retractable. I save their exhibition for times when they’re needed.”

He was pleased with her play, and he scooted forward to chase her, knees bent and closing in like a cage around her. “Oh? And what sort of times are these? I would love to see them one day.” His posture had him so forward that his face was a mere foot from hers, their lines of sight equal. The smell of his cigar, forgotten in his fingers, curled around her nose.

Kagome’s smile grew, but something in her words pierced her own heart. “Impossible. If I’ve unsheathed them, I’ve done so for flight. I’d be gone long before you could notice.”

His eyes carried a strange emotion. “And what of my traps? The invisible nets I’ve splayed out in the sky to catch runaway fairies?” At the word catch, he again intertwined his finger with a lock of her hair.

“You of all people should know that you cannot confine such creatures.”

“I said nothing of confining,” he began, leaning in even closer. Kagome watched his mouth intently, gaze locked on the points of his teeth past his lips. He continued with a whispered sardonic lilt, “I only wish to study one of God’s highest creations. After which, if she wishes to go, I’ll pack her bag myself out of good will. But only after appealing intently for her permanent residence, and sulking petulantly at my failure.”

Kagome was sure she’d turned scarlet now. She pushed his left knee with the tips of her fingers, breaking his cage. She ignored the rough intake of his breath at the contact. She cleared her throat and said, “I’m afraid I can script our play no further, Inuyasha. I was never one for theater.”

“Nor I,” he said with a grin, seemingly pleased at her using his name. His finger relinquished her strands. After a moment with no response from her, he added, “No more of this.” He dropped both papers back into her lap. “If you’re going to steal my supplies, you’ll be sure to not use them for blasphemy. I order you to fix it.”

“I’d much rather destroy and forget about them altogether, sir. Additionally, though I am your employee, I don’t see the propriety of such commands that have nothing to do with my employment as Shippo’s governess.”

If he noticed her jocular tone, he didn’t show it. “I’m not commanding you as an employer.”

Kagome’s mouth sealed shut. She waited for him to explain his meaning, but he never did, opting instead to kiss his cigar once more. His golden eyes had caught fire, their glow outshining that of the candle on the sill, whose flame flickered from the easy draft and made their shadows sway together. Scared of his elaboration should she invite it, Kagome decided that the late hour demanded her retirement, even if it meant ripping her away from this dreamlike exchange. “As you wish.”

She saw the irritation on his sharp features at her obvious self-censorship. But he let it go. He reclined to his original place leaning against the wall. “You’re tired. If you’ve any desire to sleep tonight, you must go this instant.”

If he meant it innocently, his frustrated expression and clenching fists did not help depict it. Kagome felt a ghostly finger trace up her spine at his gaze, which fought to force its way into the depths of her own to assess its secrets.

Gathering up her things, Kagome stood, holding her papers flush to her chest to hide her unbound breasts which had before been protected by her dress’s loose drape. “Goodnight, sir. You might consider trying to sleep again, as well.”

“I’ll consider it,” he said, eyes flicking down to her bare feet and the lower half of her shins, now exposed by her night gown.

Blushing bright, she bowed her head in goodbye. “Till morning,” she said.

#inukag #inextricably knotted #fanfiction #jane eyre #inuyasha #this chapter makes it officially the longest fic I've ever written!

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