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kashimos-hajime · 4 years

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soldier | amaranthine (1/6) | b.b.

summary: a boy and a girl went off to war. they fell in love and the devil laughed.

WARNINGS: swearing, MAJOR angst, more fluff than usual wow, heckie doo dah they kiss, blood and vomit mentions, a lot of pain, guns, needles, trains pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 7.5k

a/n: written for @the-omni-princess and their writing challenge! i really couldn’t help it, i loved bucky and this reader so much i turned it into a series. my prompt was soldier by fleurie. gif not mine. this series will have a happy ending ON GOD

amaranthine masterlist

Head in the dust, feet in the fire Labour on that midnight wire Listening for that angel choir You got nowhere to run

Sunlight filters through dust and Bucky Barnes thinks it’s too fucking sunny for a day in the trenches. His feet blister as he shifts against the wet mud wall. His stomach is hollow and he closes his eyes. Chains wrap around his bones, tying him to his mud post. Mud caked beneath his nails and a strange crackling feeling festering between his legs and his gut, Bucky Barnes tries to sleep for the first time in three days. All he can feel is the mud through his soaked uniform. Yesterday, it rained like Hell’s flames had reached earth, and beneath molding wood, Bucky had tried to keep his soldiers as warm as he could.

He can’t remember the last time he was dry.

“Sarge, it’s your turn,” a soldier calls and his eyes open as he raises his head from the mud wall. Dried mud crumbles from his head and he grabs his helmet, wedges it beneath his arm and lets his muscles scream. His stomach wails and his head spins when he stands but he blinks the dust away and instead sends a nod to the soldier who begins to lead him through the maze. Hand dragging along the crumbling trench wall, he heads through the pits he knows too well to where the rest of the 107th are waiting. They mumble him greetings as he walks between their legs and bodies, some of them groaning when he steps on mud that leaks out dirt water. They’ve yet to see them yet, then.

Every soldier that’s gone in has come out remarkably brighter, and these men look more ashen than death.

He doesn’t know what to expect. Suddenly this medical corp was doing a standard health check while not in combat, and safe to say, it raised Bucky’s suspicions. He continues walking and walking, his blisters bleeding and he’s sure he has some trench foot or some other shit. His feet have been swimming in water and mud for days.

His eyes scan the back of the soldier’s head. Clean helmet, new uniform and boots. Lucky him.

“They’ll take good care of you, Sarge,” the soldier announces all sudden-like and Bucky’s head rings. “Get you into right fighting shape.”

From then, it’s a blur. Hands take him and pass him on to other hands. They take off his clothes, pour warm water over his head and clean him inch by inch. The water turns dark with red and brown when they’re done and he’s sure he can feel the lice in his hair jumping ship before they show him to another tent and then another, each one doing something different.

The last tent is when his mind finally plays catch up.

“Sergeant Barnes?” a voice calls as his blue eyes drift warily around him. Beside him are other soldiers, countless rows of them. Some of them are bleeding through their bandages, there are three crowded around one bed playing cards, and he’s alone in his bed. He glances down at his hands, tough with calluses and scrubbed clean of dirt before raising his head.

“That’s me.”

“Perfect.”

The voice. His eyes find the voice and then he sees her. Her mouth moves and he hears her say her name, but all he can think of is one thing: angel. She isn’t wearing white, and she doesn’t have wings or a halo. Instead, she has dark half-moons imprinted on her face and messy hair and a fixed smile, and she’s anything but an angel, but it’s the only word Bucky can use to describe her.

She has the inexplicable draw, and when he blinks, a little too stunned for words, her fixed smile softens.

He sits up a little straighter, and his heart beats a little louder, and for the first time in days, weeks, months, Bucky Barnes doesn’t feel the cold or the wet or the pain.

“Ma’am.” He clears his throat and she laughs as she sets down a tray of food in his lap. His hands instinctively reach to grab and when her fingers brush his, a jolt sends shivers up his spine. She’s the warmest thing he’s touched in days. The woman wears a uniform similar to his with tough stains along her front and in the creases of her jacket and when she bends over to pull the blanket away from his feet, he can spot the dirty rags stuffed into her pockets. A trained nurse, doctor maybe. “Ma’am, you don’t need to worry—”

“You were written down as potentially suffering from trench foot, Sergeant. I’m just going to take a look, treat it, and then I’ll be on my way,” she says, her voice lilting and soft, different than the sound of screams that seem to echo from tents away, the sound of soldiers cheering whenever they win a game of cards.

Bucky looks down at the tray of food. A bowl of hot soup, dry bread with cheese and a steaming cup of coffee has never looked so delicious. As he picks up the spoon to dip into the soup, he glances at the nurse who takes hold of his ankle. Quickly grabbing a hold of his tray, he steadies it and she sends him an apologetic look down the way. “Sorry.”

“No problem.” He smiles and his face stretches strangely.

It occurs to Bucky he hasn’t smiled in ages, and the woman’s tiny smile in return is enough for him to keep his own grin going.

“Where are you from?” he asks even though it’s painfully obvious. He only speaks because it’s almost humiliating to eat and watch her inspect his feet, especially when he can occasionally catch the glances she sends his way; it’s almost as if she hates the silence as much as he does.

“South London,” she says, slowly setting one foot down. “They soaked your feet, correct?”

“They did. Never been so dry.” She chuckles and the sound is music to Bucky’s ears as she sets down the other foot. “I’m alright to leave, ma’am?”

“You need to be treated first,” she cuts him off, shooting him a narrowed glare. “Talcum powder is extremely helpful. It’ll keep your feet dry for longer and reduce the chafing between your socks and your feet.”

“A miracle.”

“Hardly.” She sends him a quick glance to see if he’s eating before beginning to pat the powder down over his skin. “You need to keep your feet as dry as possible, and expose them to the air, or you’ll be losing more than skin.”

“Hard to do in the mud, ma’am,” he says with a shrug, chugging down his coffee and she catches her bottom lip between her teeth as she pats white dust over his other foot. He wiggles his toe against her palm and she shakes her head with half a smile, gently nudging his foot with a stern rub. “The rain gets everywhere.”

“I know. It’s advice I still have to give, though.” She claps her hands, white dust springing into the air in a cloud. Waving it away, she bends over to grab pillows and shoves them beneath his legs, exposing his blistering feet to the other soldiers who care to look his way. Wiping her palms along her pants, white streaks down the dark green before she pulls out clean socks and sets them by his bedside. “Put these on when you’re discharged. I hope I don’t have to see you again, Sergeant Barnes.” A sort of yawning ache splits Bucky down the middle as she brushes hair out of her face and turns to pick up a second tray of medical supplies.

“Any siblings?” he asks suddenly just to keep her around. She blinks, turns to check if anyone needs her, and then perches on the edge of his cot like a pretty little bird. Her tray balances in her lap, tools glimmering against the stark-white of a roll of bandages. He brings a spoonful of soup to his lips and it warms him all the way down to the belly. A bit of it dribbles down his chin and she reaches over with a thumb to wipe it off.

“Three brothers,” she says, withdrawing her hand. Bucky’s lips part and he sucks in a soft breath as she smiles again, this time wide enough to dig into her cheeks. It changes her—makes her younger and softer. Against the grey of everything, she is enchanting. “Twin older brothers and one baby brother.”

“That must’ve been the worst.” He smirks, eyebrows raising and she hides a laugh unsuccessfully. Bucky’s been told he has an infectious smile and he’s glad war hasn’t taken that away from him. She scoots closer to the head of the bed as he eats and as she nears, he can almost count the stars in her eyes.

“My brothers never stopped getting into trouble and I always got caught in the middle of it. They taught me how to fight and we fought all the time…” Her voice fades away and Bucky frowns, eyebrows furrowing together. “Until the war happened.” Her smile slips away and her eyes no longer bare the bravery to meet his. A muscle in her jaw ticks and Bucky almost reaches for her hand. Almost. He cocks his head, letting his drying hair fall into his eyes and she looks at him again, this time not as warmly, this time with emptiness.

“My brothers fled to America a few months after they declared war,” she says. Some nameless, faceless men in Bucky’s head appear and he tilts his head, lips pressing together in a firm line. He could try to imagine a selfish man with her features, or maybe a man hiding under a hood as he boarded a ship with the same eyes, but he can’t. Not when his sister sits right before him. “Because in England, they can’t conscript the last son of a family.”

His thoughts crumble to ash.

“But you’re here,” he whispers and she looks down at his tray, unseeing.

“I am,” she agrees, wistful, regretful. When their eyes meet again, Bucky wonders if she feels the heat, too. “And you? Any siblings?”

“Three.”

“And you’ve left them behind, too.”

“You’ve been at war much longer than I have,” Bucky points out and she tilts her chin up. The grey sun that streams through the tent flaps hits her face and she’s almost blindingly radiant in a way that breaks a man’s heart. Shifting in his seat, he blinks and tries to keep that image of her, an angel in grey light before it’s gone. She ducks her head to tuck away hair from her face and he twists to set down his tray of food beside him. “You know, I used to braid my sister’s hair before school,” he says and she looks at him, eyebrows shadowing her eyes. “Can’t be rusty when I get back.”

She laughs, almost incredulous, and very, very tired, and Bucky can see the minute the weight seems to lift off her shoulders. She sets down her tray and leans back on her hands, lip caught between teeth as she tries to bite her smile down. It only makes Bucky smile wider.

“Sergeant Barnes, would you please braid a girl’s hair?” she asks, dewy sweet, and Bucky nearly melts in his bed. Mouth dry, he clears his throat and pulls at his blanket.

“What would I get in return?” He plays for keeps, and the angel grins, leaning towards him. His eyes fall to her lips as she brushes hair out of his face. Bucky can barely breath at the featherlight sweep of her fingers.

“Would my everlasting affection suffice?” She cocks her head and waits for his answer, fingers stilling on his cheek as his eyes flicker from her lips to her eyes. He wonders what it would taste like, to kiss her. Maybe it’d taste like coffee and cough syrup, or gunpowder and ash. Whatever it is, Bucky wants to know. So he nods

“I s’pose it would.”

The cell reeks of dead rat and rank shit. With the wet drip-drip-drip of water leaking from a crack in the ceiling, Bucky digs his shiv into the cement. Scratching the tally mark, he lets the ugly grating of metal against the wall ring in his ears. A mind-numbing pain rests in his veins and just the mere effort of dragging his arm up the wall to run the point through the mark again is nearly too much. His mind swirls in a twisted knot, one that only tightens with every waking moment.

Whatever they did to him—lacing fire and ice into his blood, carving him from the inside out and sharpening his every sense until he can hear the roaches crawling on the walls—has changed him. Somewhere inside him knows he’s different, disfigured on a level he cannot understand.

He lets his hand fall to the cot as the sound of rusted metal echoes down the hall.

“Let go of me! Bastards!”

Blinding candlelight streams into his cage and Bucky raises his head wearily, twisting onto his side to watch as German soldiers haul a furiously struggling figure between them. Muffled grunts and the sound of fabric rustling catches his ear as he blinks away the stars in his eyes and drops his shiv, hiding it beneath his ratty blanket.

“Herr Schmidt promised you your life for your compliance.”

“Let him choke on my compliance!” The voice rings in his ears as he pushes himself to a sitting position and his metal cell opens before the sound of a body colliding with the floor fills the silence. Bucky blinks hard, trying to get used to the golden light before it shuts him in the darkness once again, but the guards are already closing his gate. The person splayed on his floor gets up, rushing to the metal bars and slamming their first against the shaking thing as the soldiers laugh.

“What the hell?” he mutters, rubbing his eye and one of the soldiers look to him.

“You have company, Sergeant Barnes. Enjoy.” The sneer that seeps into the parting word causes an unwanted shiver to crawl up Bucky’s spine as the body crawls into the middle of his cell and collapses, letting out a sob. Propping himself on his hands, Bucky tries to remember where he’s heard this voice before.

His brain feels burned, and the harder he thinks, the more it seems to whine.

“Barnes?”

His name, whispered harshly and echoing in his four walls of prison, is the answer to his prayers, the answer he least desires.

“Angel,” he utters, breathless as he slides to the floor. The rough cement crates against his weak, bony knees and hands take hold of him as a wet face presses against his cheek.

“Sergeant Barnes.” She all but melts into his embrace, and she burns with the heat of ten million stars, all too hot for his own feverish fingers yet still he digs his nails into her back hard enough that his bones ache. “What did they do to me?” she whispers, shaking, and Bucky pulls her back by the shoulder, one hand cupping her head gently.

“How long have you been here?” he asks carefully and she searches his gaze. “Where were you?” Her breaths shudder against his palm as he wipes away the tears from her face and in the grim, fading light, he can see blood leaking from her ear, dripping warmly onto his knuckles.

“After Azzano, they attacked the hospital.” Her breath, hot as summer rain, chills him to the bone. “They managed to evacuate all but the last few tents and they caught me.” A disgusted twist in her lip, her eyes unfocus. Bucky cups her face, feels something thrum in her pulse and she looks up, looks through him. “They said I was to be put under tests, and I’d be lucky to survive.”

Bucky’s hand on her shoulder trails to the collar of her shirt, gently hooking a finger and tugging. Colourful smudges of purple, blue, yellow, and green smear her skin. The effects of needles, huge and plunging and painful. If he looks close enough in the dark, he can spot the entry points, stabs that haven’t healed.

A flicker of fire burns brighter in his belly than the one that already soaks him in its heat.

“I don’t feel very lucky, Sergeant Barnes,” she whimpers. Bucky’s eyes flash back to hers, and when she blinks, fresh tears run over his skin. “It hurts everywhere.”

“You’ll be okay.” He brings her into his embrace, a hand on her head and the other wrapped around her back as he closes his eyes. Her arms slither around his waist and he presses his cheek against her temple. “You’re going to be okay, angel.”

She is silent. Two weeks and they’ve already beaten hope out of this place. Perhaps she isn’t quite used to the freezing agony set in her bones yet or the ache of ligaments tearing and building again as every fiber of her turns to steel. Bucky wants to tell her it’ll get better, but he doesn’t know himself.

“You’ll have the bed,” Bucky promises and she pulls back immediately to protest but he shakes his head. “My ma would smack me if I didn’t insist.” He half-smiles and his muscles stretch pleasantly in his cheeks as her arms draw away slightly. Her hands rest on his hips and he nods to her.

“You’re my patient,” she protests and he chuckles quietly. It’s a raspy kind of sound and it sounds hollow the more it echoes, but he means it. “I’m supposed to take care of you.”

“Angel, you took care of soldiers for years before I came around,” he starts, and something in her eyes flickers. He cups her cheek, the dim light barely lighting her features. The swollen bags beneath her eyes have only grown worse since he’s last seen her, and she’s lost what little healthy glow she had that coloured her face. “I think it’s time someone took care of you.”

“Sergeant Barnes, I—”

“Bucky,” he says, brushing limp hair away from her face. He can hear her thunderous heart, or perhaps it is his beating between his ears, louder than the ocean. “My name’s Bucky.”

“Where are the rest of the 107th?” she asks that night as they feed on cold soup. Bucky’s fingers tremble but the pain has receded into a tiny knot at the base of his skull. His arm feels like it’s about to drop off his body and with every move of his neck, heat and bruising pain spreads into his chest. She drops her spoon too loudly and they both flinch.

“They separated me from them after they began the tests,” he mutters, letting the cold broth slither down his gut. “No one came back from the isolation ward so I thought for sure I’d be dead.”

“Well, neither of us are.” She’s leaning against the metal frame of the bed, her knees tucked to her chest. Her scrappy uniform is scuffed with dirt and wet from the mold growing beneath their feet but Bucky merely smiles softly. His back against the wall, his feet are outstretched before him. He’s quite sure if she stretches her legs too, their boots would touch. “How many doses have they given you?”

“Two.” He sets down his bowl in his lap. She looks into her own, stirring, the metal cup perched on her knees. “You?”

“One.” Something in Bucky’s arm begins to tingle, as if the injection sites open wide at the sound of her voice. He lets his head tilt back until he knocks into the stone. “They kept me in another part of the factory to treat workers before they decided to use me like some lab rat.” Fabric rustles and a presence looms near him as he closes his eyes. Something warm is set in his lap and he lifts his head wearily as she settles in beside him. “You should eat.”

“What?” He picks up the one fresh ingredient to their meal, a slice of warm bread, and shakes his head. Picking it up, he tries to hand it back to her. “No, you need to eat—”

“You’ve been here longer, Sergeant.”

“Angel—”

“I get the bed, and you get the warm bread.” She seems to sag into her shoulders and he frowns slightly. “It seems only fair.” Her hair is slick with dirt, sweat and oil as she rests her head on his shoulder and he tilts his head until his cheek presses against her scalp. Her boot knocks into his as he rips the bread apart.

“Fine. Can’t deny you a thing,” he whispers and she shakes with a silent chuckle, weak and tired. “How’re you feeling?”

“I don’t want to move away from you,” she murmurs blearily, her eyes closed as she turns her head to him. Her nose brushes his jaw as he swallows. “Tell me a story.”

“About what, sweetheart?” he asks, and the warmth of her is so comforting he could cry. Human touch that isn’t sharp and painful and terrible has caused his body to soften. Her body has twisted towards him, her knees bent and her legs hooked over one of his. “I can tell you ‘bout Brooklyn, I guess.”

“Would you?” she asks, exhausted, small, fading. She loops her arm through his, curls herself around it as he bites into the cooling crust. He swallows quickly, feeling it lump together on its way down to his stomach.

“Yeah, and I can tell you ‘bout Steve. He’s my best friend and I made him ride the Cyclone once on Coney Island. I gotta bring you there, the lights at night on a warm summer day… it’s the prettiest sight…”

He can tell the instant she slips away from him, the subtle change in her breathing and her heart rate, the peace that overtakes her face, the tender warmth that seeps into his own bones. He gently brings the slice of bread to his mouth, devouring it in two or three bites before picking up his bowl of soup again. Sipping quietly, he is careful not to disturb her as she squirms against him, seeking something warmer than what he can provide. He carefully sets down the bowl and wraps his free arm around her, squeezing gently in hopes that it’ll give life to her frigid skin.

His own heart thuds in his throat when she lets out a soft sigh and melts into his body. He tilts his head, nose in her hair as her breath puffs against his neck, soft as snow. He closes his own eyes and his mind wanders as her arms, wrapped around his arm, hold him even tighter to her own chest.

A small bomb explodes in his chest and he smiles even though no one’s looking.

Bucky Barnes has never really loved a girl before, but in this moment, as her body fits into his like it is meant to be and he sits, rots, in an Austrian prison with poison running through his veins, he is sure he will gladly die for one.

It’s by the third dose for her do they understand best how to take care of one another. Bucky can usually tell when they’ll take one of them away by the meal they present. It’ll be warm, almost hot, and rich with nutrients their bodies crave, and in the mornings, fresh towels and ice will be shoved into their cell like they swelter from the heat.

They toss her into the cell with a rattling slam with a promise to return for him soon but Bucky doesn’t say a word in return. An agonizing mess, his angel lets out a soft moan as he scoops her into his arms. The smell of clean soap and sweat clings to her skin, her hair slightly damp from the shower they always force upon them before the doses. Dark, reddening marks imprinted into her temples, her eyes stare sightlessly ahead as he lays her down on the cot. He dips a towel into the bowl of freezing water.

The soft clack of ice against the metal bowl echoes in his head as he numbly wipes away the sweat, gently cleaning her tears and soothing an ache he knows festers between her temples.

“Doctor…. Prisoner… 56899…” The words slip between her lips, soft and jumbled as she turns her head away and the pit inside of Bucky widens as he tries to catch her eye.

“Angel,” he whispers, running his hand over her cheek. “Come back to me.” Turning her face towards him, he lets out a sharp breath as her eyes stare through him. “Hey, hey, hey.”

“Bucky?” It’s like magic the way a soul seems to fill her body in a moment’s notice. Life pours into her eyes, and a hand grips at his sleeve.

“Hey, angel.” He dips the towel in ice once again and she raises a hand gently to touch his face. Her fingers tremble, clammy with sweat, as he blinks. A strange smile stretches her face and he thinks she’s laughing at him as he wipes away the blood from her ear once again. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re crying, Sergeant Barnes,” she whispers fondly and Bucky blinks again, just realizing the heat that floods his face is not from the factory that works around them. Her cold fingers swipe away the wetness from his cheeks, spread it over his face and he resists the urge to press a kiss to her palm. Instead, he uses his free hand to hold her palm to his cheek. A shiver runs down his spine. “Who’s gone and broken your heart?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” he says. She laughs again, painful and quiet, and this time her eyes flutter shut as she slips away from him. Despite how much stronger she appears with muscles that flex and wane beneath his arms, he sees the cracks they split into her soul. He hopes the love he harbours for his angel is enough to seal every single one.

He knows it is not.

Bucky Barnes doesn’t tell her he loves her.

He doesn’t think he can bear the thought of telling her and disappearing the very next day, but perhaps it’s the little things that count.

“There’s enough room on the bed, Sergeant Barnes,” she had said, and they started to sleep together on the small little cot barely fit for one, Bucky slightly hunched over her as they fell asleep in each other’s arms. Their legs entangled and more often than not, it ended with one of them squished against the wall and the other flush against them, but it was always worth the morning blush.

“Have my blanket,” he had insisted as autumn swept over their prison cell and warm food was more and more of a necessity. Even though they didn’t need to eat and hunger no longer clawed at their stomachs, Bucky always remembered to share the slice of warm bread with her as their fingers turned numb and chattering teeth filled the silence at night.

“Hold my hand…” as fingers entwined with fingers.

“I’ll take care of you…” accompanied the sound of blood dripping onto the stone floor.

“When we get outta here…” followed by a million promises and the scratch of the shiv against the stone wall.

It’s the little things that count.

“You’re upset.”

Her voice is soft, gentle as snow as Bucky runs a towel raggedly through his almost-dry hair. He twists on his bed to see her standing there, in a new uniform and hair damp as it falls around her face. He thinks she’s never been more effortlessly gorgeous. Life has returned to her cheeks and her eyes spark.

“Angel,” he says with a smile and he scoots over to allow her room next to him. After a wash, he can almost imagine feeling like a new man. He tosses the towel onto the pillow behind him as she sits down. “Did they feed you yet?”

“Just had a quick wash. I was planning on eating with you,” she chirps, sliding an arm around his waist. Tugging him towards her with extraordinary strength, she smiles as Bucky ducks his head underneath her chin. Wrapping his own arms around her middle, he closes his eyes.

“I’m not upset,” he mumbles as her hand trails up his back and runs through his drying hair. “I’m just relieved we got out.”

“I know it’s more than that,” she whispers, gently tugging his head to meet eyes. When he finds her gaze, he feels boneless. A warmth floods his blood and a smile overcomes his face, small, tired. “You always let your guard down when you think no one’s looking.” But I’m always looking are the words that hang between them.

Bucky swallows and cold flashes over his body.

“Let’s give it up for Captain America!”

“You think Steve’s gonna last till next week?” he asks quietly, hands falling away from her. He flinches back when her hands reach for him and he doesn’t see the hurt that settles on her face. “We saw soldiers die, friends bleed out, and you think Steve is gonna be different?”

“He is different.”

“Yeah, so they’ll have him fight the good fight.” His words are bitterly strung out and he wants to put a hole through the wall. “They’ll have him on the front lines and I’ll be right beside him because I can’t abandon my best friend. A best friend who I can barely recognize, and—”

“Bucky, he’s still your Steve.”

“I’m supposed to protect him!” Frosted silence pools into his heart as his breath comes in rattled gasps. His heart hammers against his ribs and he can hear hers, a gentle beat. “And I failed. So that’s the rest of my life; that’s what I’m going to do. Make up for every time I wasn’t there for him and every time I couldn’t stop him from getting hurt—”

“Steve’s changed. Even you can’t protect him from war,” she says and Bucky, with a humourless smile and darkness in his cold blue eyes, shakes his head.

“I can damn well try. If not me, who?” A hollow where his heart should be swallows him whole and he only sees the darkness of the Austrian factory, the vomit and blood after every session. The soft sobs as he whispers he can’t remember his ma’s face. Rebecca is nothing more than a fading memory. “I’m not letting this war take more from me than it already has.”

“Neither am I.” Her hands are folded in her lap and despite how desperately he wants her touch, he feels like he’s just seconds from falling apart. Sucking in a deep breath, he brings his shattered pieces together and silently tells her not to disrupt the broken glass. “If you spend your whole life protecting him, who protects you?”

“I don’t need protection.”

“Bucky.” Her sigh sweeps into his ears as she reaches for his arm and he jerks back, standing sharply. His knees shake and he feels the soreness in his feet as he meets her eyes. Her eyes glisten as she blinks against the fading dusk and he turns away to the tent exit. He barely takes a step before she pipes up again. “Does he know?”

Turning around, he barely utters, “What?”

“What we went through. Does he know?”

“That’s not important.”

“Like hell it isn’t!” She storms up to him, face an effigy of wrath as she grabs his arm. Turning it over in her fingers, she pulls up his wrist so he is forced to stare at his own veins. They run, bulging and blue-grey, and he can hear his own blood flowing. “We got fucked over, Sergeant Barnes. You don’t even remember what your mother looks like and you say it isn’t important?”

“It’s war! I’ve been gone too long.” Bucky rips his arm from her grasp as something in him slants.

“I never forgot my brothers’ faces until I went in there.” She throws an arm out, points to some distant corner of their tent but her glazed eyes do not stray from his. “Sometimes, I can’t even remember their names and you’re no different, and right now, it isn’t about Steve. This is about you and what happened to us back there!”

Heat bubbles underneath his skin and when she does not speak, it’s almost as an avalanche rushes through his body. “I’m trying to forget what happened to me in there! I have a job to do and I can’t… I can’t be distracted because that will get Steve killed. People die every day and I’ve gotten used to it, but I won’t let my best friend be someone I have to leave behind in No Man’s Land. I thought you of all people would understand.” Sticky, humid air clouds his face and his vision blurs as he collapses to his knees. Hands immediately land on his shoulders, slide down his back as he’s pulled into a spine-crushing embrace.

“Oh, Bucky, I do,” she whispers. She pulls him back, cups his face and the suppleness of her skin causes his shuddering breaths to hitch. He sucks in a huge gasp as he continues to crumble. He slips between her fingers as he desperately tries to pull himself together but with her every swipe of his tears, he only shatters. “I promise I do. Just let me take care of you when you can’t do it anymore.” Her thumbs brush underneath his eyes as his hands on her hips squeeze and she lets out a gentle sigh. “You can fall apart on me. I promise I’ll protect you.”

“It’s not worth it. I’m… I’m… not worth it.”

“It’ll always be worth it if it’s you,” she promises and his eyes close. Another rush of tears spill over her fingers as gentle lips press between his eyebrows. “Besides—” Her voice whispers over his skin as she tucks her chin in to look at him. His forehead presses into her sternum as he melts into her body. His hiccuping breaths shake his shoulders jerking as she runs a soothing hand through his hair, down his back—“if you’re not worth saving, then neither am I.”

At this, Bucky raises his tear stained face to his angel and shakes his head, stubborn as they come. His heart slows in his head and cool wind kisses his wet cheeks. Their lips almost brush and his breath shudders in his throat.

“I will always save you no matter what.”

She smiles, a soft exhale that could almost be a laugh puffing against his cheek as he shifts against her, sitting up straighter. She pulls back, wiping her hand along his jacket and he sniffs, a small, watery grin cracking over his face.

“You’re quite the romantic, Sergeant Barnes.”

“How many times do I gotta tell you? My name’s Bucky.” He can hear her heart quiver as he touches her face, spreads his fingers along her cheek and gently guides her closer until he can taste the smoke and lime that clings to her skin. He can hear her breathe his name, a gentle sigh before their lips meet, and he thaws underneath her touch.

Her fingers brush his jaw as he closes his eyes and the feel of her mouth, chapped and warm against his, is ecstasy.

Their first kiss is everything and nothing Bucky has ever dreamed it would be. A desperate clash of tears and lips and teeth, yet softer than anything he’s ever known, he knows one thing is certain in his life now.

He has found the love of his life, and only Death will do them part.

The wind is knocked out of him the minute he sees her. His angel has managed to steal his heart all over again and Bucky wonders how he’s going to survive the night when his eyes are glued to her. Clean, soft, and radiant, she stands there almost bashfully, waiting for him to notice her. Her smile splits her face as he remembers to close his mouth.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she greets politely as she looks up at him. In her heels, she looks as if she could rule the world. Bucky barely manages to greet her before clearing his throat. His cheeks pool with heat and he looks down at his shoes, running a hand through his hair. “Where are you off to?”

“Captain Rogers invited me to the Whip and Fiddle for an important meeting.”

“How strange. I was invited as well.” She grins as he extends an arm and she leans over to kiss the corner of his mouth. Bucky’s cheeks flare up and he turns to look at her. She loops her hand through, holding him close as they walk down the street and Bucky places a hand on top of hers along his arm.

“Who’s the lucky man?” he asks as if he isn’t walking the most gorgeous dame in all of London to some bar a few minutes away for their first date.

“A very brave soldier,” she replies. Her heat seeps through his jacket and he turns to look at her, trying to come up with a compliment adequate enough to express how much he adores her. “You look very handsome, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Can’t compare to you, angel.” Her smile becomes tender under his gaze and she pauses just outside the pub. Inside, the frosted glass glows with the heat and with every swing of the door, merry singing and the beginnings of Dum Dum telling a story sweep into the cool air. Words pound at the back of his teeth as he stares down at her, looking so pretty in the warm lamplight of London. “How’s your family? Did you have a chance to see them?”

“Mum’s doing okay. Dad was out with my brother so I was a nice surprise to come home to.”

"It sounds like a warm welcome, doll.”

“You know, they would love to meet you, too.” He blinks, hand stalling from where he’d been brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “I told them about you, if that’s alright…”

“They know about what happened to us?” His voice is tight, just the mere mention of it burning down his arms.

“No.” She looks guilty and Bucky wonders if the weight on her shoulders has always been there. “Mum’s got enough on her plate with my brother leaving and all. He’s, he’s actually travelling to Oxford soon so it was necessary for me to say goodbye and Dad… I don’t think he can take it. He’s lost two sons already.”

Bucky runs his thumb down her cheek, planting a tender kiss against her forehead.

“When this war is over, we’ll find them,” he promises and she smiles, pressing her lips eagerly against his. He can’t help the huge grin that spreads across his face and he chuckles into her mouth as she plants her hands on his cheeks and holds him there, kissing him again and again. “Give me a chance to show you Brooklyn ‘n’ Shelbyville, where I was born, Coney Island… We can take the Railroad and everything.”

“Too many places for a time like this,” she teases, pulling back. “First the Whip and Fiddle, then I show you around London and then we go to America.”

“Deal.” She smiles up at him, like they’re not in the middle of war, like they haven’t just escaped prison with blue serum running through their veins, like they’re still the boy and girl they were before.

“Let’s go in. Steve’s probably waiting,” she whispers, turning to look at the warm, fogging glass. Bucky turns, glaring at the door. Suddenly, meeting Steve doesn’t seem so inviting. Her hands trail down his face and rest on his chest as she sighs longingly. “I don’t want you to go back in there.”

Turning around again, he takes her hand from his chest and kisses her fingers tenderly. “I’m staying right here for a while longer,” he murmurs, knowing that this is not what she meant at all.

A cool chill sweeps between their bodies and Bucky tucks her into his body, wrapping her in the tightest embrace he can manage. She’s all supple muscle, carbon bone, and she’s taller than before yet all Bucky can think of is protecting her.

I love you. I love you. I love you, he thinks, eyes closing as he rests his chin in her hair. He can feel her heart beating like a soft drum through her back as she drags her hands up his shoulders.

“You’re the only one who understands,” she whispers into the wind, yet his ears still catch it all. She buries her face into his chest, her fingers digging into the ridges of his back as he brings a hand to cradle the back of her head. “Please don’t leave me.”

His eyebrows furrow together and he doesn’t even feel the wind bite at his skin until his fingers turn purple. His chest aches and everything inside him cracks like glass under pressure. Winding, and winding, long and elegant in a catastrophic kind of way.

Never, never, never. I love you more than anything. How can I ever leave you? He wants to scream it into the night, tell her until she understands.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

“A zip line?” she says dubiously, the snow dotting her hair as she sits by the fire. Heat and frost play at her face, bathing it half in white light, and half in blazing orange. “It doesn’t sound very enticing.”

Bucky forces a smile and kisses her for what he doesn’t know is the last time. She tastes like beef jerky and mountain water, and he can hear Morita making some wise crack about how gooey the Sarge is being. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I always notice,” she retorts.

It sounds an awful like a confession Bucky can’t bear to hear right now.

They leave at dawn.

The last thing he does is slip an envelope into her rucksack and he prays that he’ll be back before she can open it.

When his fingers slip, there’s a moment in time that freezes. He teeters on the edge of life and death, and he can see Steve’s outstretched hand just before his.

And then he falls and a million and one thoughts fly from his head.

All he can think of is broken promises and the Coney Island lights. The wind that rips away at him is like the way the Cyclone had tossed him through the air, safely bound by the metal bars, but this time, there is nothing holding him back.

He throttles through the air, collides with something sharp and jagged before rolling down, through snow and ice, and his vision swims in inky black as he struggles to breathe. His lungs are paralyzed and his skull splits open as he tumbles over and he thinks the blood is coming from his head? Or maybe it’s his nose or his throat or how can he still think with all of winter’s wrath surrounding him? His head is buried in snow as he tries to remember what it was like to breathe again.

Snow falls softly around him, landing on his face like tiny kisses and it is almost as if his heart leaps to his throat. Blood bubbles at his lips, his whole body wracking with agony. He sinks into the snow, ice the pillow beneath his head. It dribbles warmly down his cheeks, leaking from the corner of his lips and the snow melts in the heat of his essence.

Wind caresses his face gently and he swallows a thick glob of blood that catches halfway as a sob pushes its way up his throat.

He wonders how long he will stay here, broken and dying, until Death comes to collect him, but then something grabs his boot and his eyes jerk open.

Wolves. Wolves will eat me alive, he muses, too tired, too dizzy from pain to fight. The blurry grey-blue canvas above him stretches above him, brighter than anything he remembers seeing, as he raises his head blearily. Men take him by the legs and pull, something he can barely feel as his bones click into place.

“Sergeant Barnes?”

“Angel?” he mumbles beneath his breath, eyes rolling back into his head as it slams back into the snow and he thinks he can hear her laugh echo in the ravine above him. “I’m sorry…”

For every promise I’ve broken, for every day I won’t be here, for every time I never told you I loved you. For loving you and leaving you. For leaving you. For loving you.

I’m sorry.

573 notes · View notes

forlornmelody · 4 years

Text

Take Your Girlfriend To Work Day

Rating: E (it’s smut with a little bit of plot thrown in)

Fandom: Mass Effect Andromeda

Ship: Sara Ryder/Suvi Anwar

Summary: Sara Ryder has Concerns™ about taking Suvi with her on a mission. But she's always wanted to show her the badlands of Kadara. What could go wrong?

Linkage: clicky

Note: Written for FallingOverSideways over at @spectre-requisitions-exchange. Now that reveals have happened, I can finally share this all with you!

-*-*-*

Sara would give Suvi the entire galaxy right now. The way she stretches across the tangled sheets, the light of a distant sun making her hair glow like fire. How the light glistens on her sated body, and catches in her eyes like the pools on Kadara. It’s probably why Sara sticks her foot in her mouth while her breaths are still ragged.

“I wish you had been there with me.”

Suvi’s smile vanishes and Sara feels it like a pain in her gut. “Sorry?”

Shit. “I’m not mad.” Sara swallows, pushing an errant lock out of Suvi’s eyes. “It just would’ve been nice to have you on Kadara with me, before the vaults went online.”

“When the water was toxic with sulfuric acid?” Sufi’s brow wrinkles like it did when she poured over the Scourge data, looking for solutions to a big-ass problem.

Just keep digging your grave and lie in it, Sara. “I mean. I loved the look on your face when you looked over the data I gathered.” Sara traces the line of Suvi’s swollen lips, smug knowing their romp made them that way. “It would have been even better for you to see it in person.”

Suvi’s lips twist as she bites the inside of them in thought. “I’m sure there’s still useful data for us. Maybe we could go together next time?”

“I would love that!” Sara rolls them so that her hands are braced on either side of Suvi’s pillow, and she peppers her face with kisses, imagining them swimming together in a hot spring, or a cold one, with bikinis on, or not. Drying off on a ridiculously large beach towel and licking that now potable water right off her--

“You’re going tomorrow, right? Maybe I could come with you.”

Sara’s lips freeze on the hollow where her neck meets her shoulder, and Suvi giggles at the slack-jawed expression she gives her. “Tomorrow?”

“Aren’t you going to Ditaeon to talk with Tate about trade?”

“...Yes.” Christmas Tate’s not what sets the Pathfinder's heart racing. It’s not his colony, either. It’s all the mayhem around it. Sara can all too easily imagine an eiroch crushing her girlfriend against a boulder or rylkor whipping her off a cliff with its tail. She needs to find a reason for Suvi to stay behind. Maybe she needs more arms training? Or they could wait until they fit her with some armor? Watch some training vids?

“Why don’t I go with you?” Suvi trails her fingertips down Sara’s spine, and suddenly she’s spineless.

“Sure!” Sara says brightly. This is a bad idea, isn’t it?

----

Turns out Cora’s not much different in height or build than Suvi, so the human commando loans her a set of armor, and a manual on how to care for it. Suvi walks around in it stiffly, and Sara would find it comical were it not for how the components accentuate some of Suvi’s best features. As much as she shouldn’t, not right now, Sara can’t help but imagine removing it piece by piece as she kisses her senseless.

“Worried about me, Ryder?” Suvi says as they make their landing.

The airlock disengages, and Sara looks around for any sign of danger. “Just don’t lick any rocks,” she says wryly.

“But--”

“No, Suvi.” Both her and Vetra say it together.

“Fiiine.”

-----

Suvi loves Kadara. Or maybe she loves being on the ground for a change. Either way, Dr. Suvi Anwar sits on her knees, scanning a small rock, and Sara Ryder can’t look away. The sun catches in Suvi’s flame-colored hair, making Ryder wish she had brought her here sooner. She aches at the soft smile on her face, the warm glow in her blue eyes. Ryder’s in the middle of pulling out her omni tool to take a picture when--

Sara. There are weapons warming up behind you. It appears they are aiming for you, Vetra Nix, and Dr. Anwar. I suggest--

“Got it, Sam.” Sara Ryder says nothing to Suvi, only dropping her in a tackle and ruining the picture-perfect moment. Actually, whatever exiles who were shooting at them ruined the moment, and the thought makes Sara’s blood boil.

Suvi squeaks from underneath her, but she doesn’t protest, especially after the first rounds hit the rocks behind them, and their shields shimmer with the ricochets. “Pathfinder?” she whispers cautiously.

“Exiles,” Sara growls under her breath. This is not how she pictured pinning Suvi on Kadara.

“I thought--”

“They’re still around. Still wanting to shoot us, apparently.” Sara shoves Suvi behind a bolder, and squats next to her, pulling out her pistol, and deploying her combat drone. It dashes over, firing beams at their assailants, the cool evening air warming in its wake.

Vetra looks at Sara sideways. “Really, Ryder? A drone?”

“What? Peebee showed me how to use it last night.”

Suvi glances between them, her eyes widening. “Sara?”

“It’ll be fiiiine.” On cue, the drone crumbles to the ground. Peebee will kill her later. “Well, shit.”

“We’re doomed.” Vetra sighs, powering up her assault rifle.

“Oh ye of little faith.” Sara switches to her shotgun, firing off shots while her biotics cool down.

Suvi giggles, and Vetra groans. “At least one of us is having a good time.”

Ryder really shouldn’t have brought Suvi with them. A little skirmish like this rarely fazes her anymore--more like target practice than a fight worth worrying about. Waste of ammo, really. But her heart thuds in her chest and her neck and shoulders tighten up at the thought of a bullet hitting the scientist next to her. Suvi’s so gentle, and kind. She’s not made for violence like this. Sweat gathers beneath Sara’s hard suit and her under armor, and itches around her joints. Her arm aches and her temples start to throb. Just a little bit longer---

There.

One exile remains, a sharpshooter with a sniper rifle that tries to pick them off like drops of water torture. Ryder ducks back behind their bolder, counting the seconds between shots. One Andromeda...Two Andromeda...Three--

Sara Ryder charges full force into her enemy, smashing him with a nova that sends his innards flying every which way. Turning with an adrenaline-fueled, shit-eating grin on her face, Sara looks at the boulder, craning to see the look on Suvi’s face. “Not bad, huh?”

“RYDER! MOVE!”

The ground rumbles beneath Sara’s feet, throwing her off balance. Enemy Krogan.

“Shit!” Ryder screams as the berserker hauls her up in the air. Blood rushing to her head, Sara looks down at the battered Krogan growling up at her. “I thought I put you down already.”

“RAAAAH.”

“Shit’s right! I’m out of ammo.” Vetra glowers, letting out a litany of Turian words SAM can’t translate.

Don’t panic. Just grab your pistol and--One problem. It must have fell from her holster when she left the ground. The Krogan swings her back like a wet towel.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

Her biotics won’t fire--still cooling down. Ryder’s neck and temples still flare with heat.

Sorry, Suvi. I--

A shot rings out, and Ryder sucks in a breath, bracing for a bullet wound.

The Krogan drops her, and Sara rolls out before his body falls on top of her. What the hell??

Her eyes meet “SUVI??”

Nudging the Krogan’s body with her toe, Suvi blows the steam off the barrel of her pistol, and holsters it. She glances down at Ryder, a shy smile on her face. “You alright, Sara?” Suvi reaches out with her hand to help her up.

“Damn, Anwar. Didn’t know you had it in you.” Vetra comes out from behind the boulder, brushing herself off.

Sara doesn’t take her hand, too busy doing the math in her head. “Who taught you how to shoot?”

“Drack. He took me out on Elaaden. Said it would help my skills as a geologist if I learned how to shoot rocks.”

“Of course he did.” Ryder groans as she stands, checking herself for injuries. Her shoulder throbs from being yanked around like a rag doll, but other than that. “Anything I should see Lexi about, SAM?”

My scans indicate nothing but some swelling and inflammation. Though a visit would--

“I’ll see her later, SAM.” Sara has an idea. “Hey, Vetra. I think the Nomad needs an oil change.” She walks over, rummaging through the storage compartment for a very conspicuous picnic basket.

“The Nomad doesn’t even...oh. Yeah. I’ll get right on that.” Turians don’t roll their eyes, but the way her mandibles twitch, Ryder bets Vetra would be right now if she did. Swinging into the driver’s seat, she starts the engine, and Sara scrambles to get the storage compartment shut in time.

“Catch ya later!”

-----

“Do you ever miss them?” Their picnic long over, Sara and Suvi stretch out on the blanket, watching the sun set.

“My parents?”

“Yeah.”

“All the time.” Suvi stares out across the lake, and Sara gets the feeling she’s not watching the clouds change color.

“How did you find the strength to leave them?”

Suvi says nothing, and Sara wonders if she went too far as she listens to birds call in her silence. When she finally does speak Sara strains to hear her over the lap of the shoreline. “I couldn’t stay behind when there was a whole galaxy out there to explore.” She looks at Ryder, sorrowful, but without regret in her eyes. “I was miserable when I considered staying behind. My parents could tell. I was making them miserable with me.” A small laugh escapes her mouth. “It was them who told me to go. Told me they’d miss me if I left, but they’d miss me even more if I stayed with them.” Her smile slips away, and Sara would give anything to bring it back.

Think, Ryder, think. “Nice shooting earlier. You saved my life.” Sara runs her fingers down Suvi’s cheek, holding her breath as she waits for her face to change.

The smile doesn’t come back. Suvi pulls away, looking off towards Kadara Port. “Sara, I don’t think violence suits me.”

Sara drops her hand. “Oh.”

Suvi immediately draws it back to her cheek. “Don’t get me wrong. I admire what you do--the risks you take, the hard decisions you make.” She closes her eyes, taking a settling breath. “But I’d rather make my hard decisions in a lab, not with a gun.”

“I understand.”

Biting her lip, Suvi dares to search her eyes. “You do?”

“Yeah. We’re different. I’m better out in the field kicking ass, and you’re better in the lab…. doing...sciency stuff.”

Suvi’s laugh spills from her mouth like a bubbling brook. “Ryder.”

“I mean it.” Sara takes her chin. “I don’t want you to change who you are just to please me.” She’s already nose to nose with her before Suvi realizes she’s being kissed. And Sara wouldn’t have it any other way.

While Suvi’s usually slow to kiss back, when she does, she makes up for lost time, always. She presses in, already reaching for Sara’s hair tie, pulling her hair out of that perky ponytail and winding her fingers through her hair. The motion pulls Sara closer, tighter against her mouth and she can’t help but part Suvi’s lips with her tongue, grabbing the collar of her uniform in her fist, and holding her close.

Their hands and mouths move like binary stars, so close, but never close enough. Sara groans in frustration as her fingers roam across Suvi’s lab coat, searching for that elusive zipper. Suvi giggles, taking her hand and guiding the zipper down with her, her eyes dark with want. As the uniform falls from Suvi’s shoulders, Sara traces her tongue across her now bare skin, smiling at her goosebumps and drinking in her sharp breaths. Each freckle pattern forms new constellations, and Sara writes the racy mythologies to go with them.

In Suvi’s sighs and goose-bumped skin, Sara finds a paradise better than the Initiative could have ever hoped for. She unhooks her bra, and finds the path between her breaths, scanning the terrain with her eyes and making contact with her hands. Suvi arches into her touch, and Sara smiles against her skin. “You mean the world to me, you know that?”

Suvi opens her mouth, but her sweet nothing is lost in her moan as Sara’s lips close around her tit. She should really take her time. They have little to interrupt them here, with the Tempest far away and Sam scanning the perimeter for trouble. But it’s been days since Sara had the chance to make love to the center of her universe, and so she dives headfirst into the gravity well, pulling the rest of Suvi’s uniform down with her.

“I’ve missed you,” Sara whispers, trailing her lips down Suvi’s stomach.

“Ryder. You see me every day.”

“Not the same thing, and you know it.” Sara gives her a pointed look, and she can’t help but smile at Suvi’s parted lips. She sits up, running her fingertips up and down Suvi’s thighs, outside and inside, gently nudging them apart.

Suvi sucks in her breath, and Sara pats her skin as she leans down. “Breathe, Suvi. I swear the air here is safe.”

“Shh, you.” Suvi chuckles.

Sara breathes in the scent of her pubis mons, grinning wickedly. “Make me.”

Suvi’s eyes widen, and for a moment Sara wonders if she should apologize, but then Suvi’s fingers grip her by her ponytail, pressing her between her legs and it is glorious. Holy shit holy shit holy shiiiiiiit. She never took Suvi for a dominant one, but Sara definitely want to explore more of this side of her. Tasting her, Sara gives her folds those nice long licks that Suvi loves so much. Her pushup routine comes in handy as her lover writhes beneath her. Just as Suvi starts to moan louder, Sara pulls back to wet her finger.

“Is this too much?” Suvi asks breathlessly.

Her own mouth feels dry, and Sara reaches over to gulp some water from her cannister. “Not at all. Keep going.” She blushes at her own words.

Suvi pushes her hands away, sitting up. Sara blinks, watching her go. “Actually, I have new experiment I want to run by you.” Grabbing Sara’s shoulders, Suvi presses her onto her back.

Laughing, Sara replies. “Oh? What’s your hypothesis?”

“That you’ll love me sitting on your face.” Suvi’s cheeks redden as much as her hair.

“Mm, that’s hard to quantify.” Sara smudges her lips together playfully. “But we can try it.”

Suvi crawls over her, and Sara groans as her scent overwhelms her senses. She whispers her name into her folds, sliding one finger, then two into her warmth. Gasping, Suvi grinds against her, gripping the top of her head. Sara fingers faster and harder, sucking on her clit until Suvi’s nails dig into her scalp and she calls out her name.

The sun’s far too bright when Suvi rolls off her. “Holy shit. Holy shit,” Sara swears breathlessly.

“Mmhm.” Suvi kisses her sloppily, running her hand down Sara’s side. “And what are...mm... our findings?

Sara laughs into the crook of her neck. “I think your hypothesis may be right. But further tests are needed.”

“Mm.” Suvi presses a finger to her lips, looking up at the clouds as if the answer might be found there. “Perhaps we should increase our sample size?”

That notion jolts Sara off her back. “You mean like a threesome?”

“No!” Suvi laughs so loudly Sara swears the whole valley can hear them. “I meant you. Sitting on mine.”

“Oh.” Sara stretches. “Maybe next time.” She kisses the pout right off Suvi’s lips. “Right now, I want to kiss you while you…” She grasps Suvi’s hand, guiding it between her legs. “While you…. demonstrate your expertise on the subject.”

“Sara!” Suvi shakes her head in mock humility. “I’m hardly an expert.”

Sara leans over, stealing another heated kiss. “Then maybe you should…” She can’t help her laugh. “....do a more in-depth study?” Their laughs sink into moans as Suvi trace and probes between Sara’s legs, putting just the right amount of pressure to make her beg.

Suvi grins against her mouth, teasing her long and light, until Sara’s gripping her so hard, she swears she’ll leave bruises. Thank the stars Suvi wears long sleeves. “You like it rough, Sara?”

“Yes, please. Please.”

Suvi’s teeth graze the skin of her neck in reply, hooking her fingers inside her and beckoning her to come undone.

Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours later, when Sara’s always pushing Suvi’s bangs out of her eyes just to watch them fall again. “Y’know. I definitely learned something today.”

“What’s that?”

“I should bring you planetside more often.”

#mass effect andromeda #suvi x ryder #suvi anwar #sara ryder #melody writes #lemon #spec recs 2020

39 notes · View notes

terra-writes · 4 years

Text

Before Sanctuary (Shakarian)

I would like to request one of your oc's( your choice) x any character of your choice with whatever you want to write for them! ❤ -Anonymous

AN: I love you in particular. (Also this was my first time writing for Mass Effect, so feel free to leave some constructive criticism!)

Word Count: 997

Summary: Shepard is dealing with the aftermath of Thessia not very well when Garrus gets worried and shows up to see if there was any way he could help ease the burden she feels with the Reaper war. Set in between Priority: Thessia and Priority: Horizon.

Warnings: Just some angst with some fluff sprinkled in at the end

The cabin was dim as she lay there on the sheets of her bed, the only light being that of the room’s aquarium casting its blue hue across every surface. Shepard wasn’t sure how long she had been like this, yet she also made no move to find out. Her eyes were fixed on the celling, unmoving and barely blinking. The ever-growing weight of her mission was pressing down on her with every mission drop, with every report of the Reaper advancement.

The faraway ping of her omni-tool -Garrus again, she knew he was starting to become increasingly worried for her- the faint thumping of some part within the Normandy’s structure that shouldn’t be there. All of that was background noise to her own thoughts. Briefly she remembered Hackett’s order for Shepard and her crew to go on shore leave. Perhaps after this next mission on Horizon she would.

Shepard had never had any siblings growing up on whatever military station her parents were assigned on for their tour. Her parents had always said that making one child have to move around so often was hard enough, they didn’t need to subject another to that same kind of life as well. She always hated that excuse; it only made the loneliness she felt ever more prevalent every time she would have to leave whatever friends she had managed to make behind every few months.

That’s probably why she had felt an initial draw to Liara. Not born of a romantic interest, but more of a surge of sibling protectiveness (though Liara had more than quite a few years on her). That sibling-like bond the two of them had cultivated was why Shepard felt her heart mourn for the loss of Thessia, of knowing that there was nothing she could do or say to make it hurt any less for Liara short of what they were already set out to do. She had been down to Liara’s cabin earlier, but she knew that the words she had to offer were petty in terms of comfort at best.

She wouldn’t show it in front of her crew- couldn’t show it, but with each mission the despair she felt at knowing that with every small victory, or failed mission, the Reapers were slaughtering entire populations, billions of voices at a time silenced, only grew. The galaxy would be a lot emptier if they were to survive this war, and Shepard didn’t quite know how she was going to deal with it.

If her omni-tool sounded again, she didn’t hear it (or maybe, she just ignored it again) but the next thing that had registered in her mind was the sound of her cabin doors sliding open. She picked herself up off the bed, looking to the unmistakable Turian outline of her lover in the doorway. She said nothing as he stood there, as his eyes narrowed in that way they always did when he was checking her over for injuries after a mission.

“You weren’t responding to my messages.” He finally broke the silence and stepped into the cabin, letting the doors close and lock behind him.

She finally spoke. “Sorry, I was… distracted.”

“I was worried.” The I still am worried hung unspoken in the air, though it needn’t be said. She didn’t say anything, and Garrus sighed, sitting next to her on the bed. He brought one of his hands up to turn her face up to look him in the eye. “Talk to me Shepard. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “What isn’t?”

Garrus sighed. “Bad question, I know. But would you mind still answering it? Is this about Thessia? Because that wasn’t your fault Shepard, you know it was that bastard Kai Leng and The Illusive Man’s.”

She sighed and shifted on the bed so she was more comfortable. “It’s that yes, but also this whole war in general. Just knowing that there’s so many more Thessia’s and Earth’s out there, and that we can’t help them all. And knowing that for some, even when we help, we can’t do anything to stop the Reapers.”

Garrus shifted on the bed, made a move like he was going to put a hand on her shoulder but decided against it at the last minute. “I’m not good at the whole comfort thing, maybe it’s because I tend to prefer to see the worst, but unfortunately we were never going to be able to save everyone. Hell, I don’t even think we’re going to be saving most of the population that existed before the war started. But dwelling on what can’t be saved isn’t going help the people we can save.”

“I’m starting to think everyone on this ship is allergic to a good old fashioned ‘it’ll be okay, Shepard.’”

He snorted, but any hint of humor in his demeanor was gone in a moment. “I can’t make that promise Shepard, not even just to make you feel better. Because we both know it won’t be. Nothing will be ‘okay’ after this war is over. And it probably won’t be for a long time after. The most we can do is what we’re already doing: working towards obtaining the Catalyst and kicking as many Reaper asses as we can along the way.”

“You’re right, you do kind of suck at the comfort thing.”

This time he did allow himself to laugh. “You’re right, but I do know one thing: even though things are going to get worse before they’ll get better, they will get better. And when you and I come out on the other side of this war you and I will retire somewhere nice and quiet. Just the two of us and whatever a ‘cat’ is that you keep mentioning.”

Shepard felt a small smile tug at the corner of her lips despite herself as she pulled him close so that their foreheads were resting against each other. “I think that sounds nice.”

#mass effect #mass effect 3 #garrus #garrus vakarian #mass effect garrus #femshep #femshep x garrus #femshep x garrus vakarian #mass effect imagine #mass effect 3 imagine #garrus imagine #garrus vakarian imagine #custom shepard #shakarian #female shepard #female shepard x garrus #female shepard x garrus vakarian #terra writes #drabble

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spartan-ghost-m-k · 4 years

Text

Across Dimensions part two:

Awakening:

Ghost POV:

I groan as my biotic implant feels like it bounced around my head. The air is cool against my face.

My vision returning too me as I see Phoenix sit up as well. "It appears that we are not dead, just... misplaced." I say massaging my temple to try and relive my headache.

I look around seeing a thick jungle around us the air was thick and damp, the place looked beautiful, the sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling, then my ears picked up something else. Gunfire, I checked the HUD of my visor and found I only had my side arm (A/N:the pistol in the drawing I think it's the Carnifex hand cannon. please correct me if wrong.) and stand to my feet and walk over to Phoenix and help her to her feet. "You're right about that we are misplaced." She says surveying the area. "Were are we Ghost?"

"I don't know but we need to move, I hear gunfire." I go run in the direction of the firefight.

"Phe do you have a weapon?" she reaches for her back, nothing then reaches for her side to pull out her Predator pistol. "How many clips? I only have five."

"five, maybe we'll find more of our stuff on the way."

"Either that of more clips." I say as I put a barrier over my armour shield.

As we weave through the jungle into he direction of the noise I spot marines in a strange uniform and rather tall people and, or mechs in heavy armour and a brunette man in what looks like an officers uniform, they were under heavy fire from these strange machines some looked like the old style drones just glowing and sideways floating and some looked like skinny glowing FENRIS mechs and the other ones I had no idea what the hell they are.

"We need to help them." Phe motioned the her pistol and looked at me.

"We don't have enough clips." "We don't but we have an Omni-blade and we have biotics."

"sure... but we don't know them."

"We are members of the Alliance Military, It is OUR duty to help our fellow man, so let's go."

"Yes Lieutenant." She says as I sneak along the edge of the battle getting behind the strange robots.

Saying a silent prayer as I launch myself over a fallen tree firing at one of the dog-like ones, then another as Phoenix was next to the other marines firing at the other machines, creating a biotic sphere around her and the others as they look to her in mild fear, but quickly return to firing at the machines, I biotically charge at one of the larger ones and then used nova pouring the energy from my shields into it, as the larger one dissolved into a orang-yellow glowing dust. I then use stasis on a group of the dog-like ones and then throw.

A larger one appeared behind me about to bring it's blade down on me, as I quickly turned around activating my omni-blade and stabbing it in the side, at that the current battle came to an end with the strange marines finishing of the remaining forces, Phe waked to me looking exhausted from using biotics after what happened earlier on the Normandy, god knows what state our implants are in.

"Hey phe, you good?"

"Yeah, out of clips, a bit tiered and slight headache, but otherwise good." She says, as she looks o my nose. "Umm... Ghost your nose is... uh bleeding."

Surely enough I put my gloved hand to my nose to find the warm crimson liquid on my finger-tips. "Probably due to damage to my implant, either that or doing too many things at once again."

Our discussion was ended by the sound of guns being cocked and aimed at us, me and Phe immediately put a Barrier over ourselves and activated our omni-blades, I feel more blood slowly drip out my nose. A brunette woman stepped forwards *so not mechs, just really tall humans.* I thought.

She had a strange looking pistol at us. "What and who are you?" She demanded, her voice filled with authority.

We looked at the tall female confused. Phe spoke up. "Don't you know what biotics are?"

"No." The brunette says coldly. I start to fidget, those machines could come back anytime or worse, and yet they're questioning us out in the open.

"Ok I may be speaking out of turn, but do you really think this is the right location to play twenty questions? Those machines could come back and we are all unprepared." I say, the brunette goes to argue further but the man in the officer uniform stops her.

"Lieutenant Palmer enough, the lady is right." He says looking around at the other marines.

"We need to find somewhere to treat our wounded and try to re-establish sturdy communication with the Infinity." The brunet woman speaks up again. "We still don't know them and their armour is not standard UNSC or civilian wears and judging by the design definitely not spartan."

"I understand that Lieutenant." He turns to us with a dorky smile on his face.

"I'm commander Lasky and this is Lieutenant Palmer." He says to us as he motioned to the brunet woman.

"Nice to meet you commander, I'm Lieutenant Kaen, an my companion her is Lieutenant Panshura." I say briefly and professionally.

"But with all due respect, sir. This is hardly the place for introductions either." I say as I use my Omni-tool to scan the nearby area detecting a nearby structure.

"I have a location on somewhere That will be able to provide ample cover and a safe place to tend to the wounded, and hopefully you can re-establish communication with you ship." I say as me and Phoenix start to walk to the location I sent to her Omni-tool.

I look over my shoulder at them. "Feel free to stay there, or follow us. I ain't the one in charge of you."

After a few minuets of walking I check behind me to see the marines, Spartans, the Lieutenant and the Commander following behind. I lean to phe. "What do you recon about them?" I whisper to her.

"Lieutenant Palmer seems to have her guard held high with us, while Commander Lasky seems like the type of person who keeps an open mind." She whispered back.

I laugh slightly. "I mean the Commanders a bit of a dork though."

"Kinda reminds me how you are talking to the opposite sex normally." She retorts.

"Heh kinda like you talking in general."

"At least I can talk to people, without keeping it brief."

"At least I can keep it brief."

"Keep it brief huh?" She says smirking, as I flush a bright red.

"That's how I meant!" I yell embarrassed, whispering is out the window.

"See that's were keeping 'it brief' goes wrong, people tend to misinterpret thing."

"You know exactly what I meant!"

"Oh, do I now?" The conversation was interrupted by a short cough. we turn around to see an unimpressed Lasky. "How much did you hear?" I say meekly.

"Everything." He says looking at me. "So I'm a 'Dork' ey?"

"Nothing wrong with being a dork." Phe says with a shrug. Lasky gives her a 'really' look.

"Eh. I tried to save ya." She says patting my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it as an insult, but I guess that's up to the person's interpretation. I am sorry if I offended you." I say slowly sinking in on myself *I never apologise.* I notice Phe look at me mildly surprised. "wow. You've reached a whole knew level of dysfunctionality." She says sarcastically, laughing slightly.

I just start walking looking at the ground refusing to speak. "What do you mean by that?" I over hear Lasky asking Phe.

"Oh, she never apologises. You must've really made her unconfutable for her to apologize. Without argument." She says laughing slightly.

"Should I consider that an honour?" He says, I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Most people make her unconfutable, especially ones she finds cute." She says laughing slightly.

As I increase my walking speed. And I wasn't paying attention as I feel something tug my ankle as I fall forwards and down a slope, my helmets visor finally smashed cutting the ridge of my nose as I land with a thump. "I think there's a fucking slope!" I yell up minorly in pain, as I pull my helmet off. *No use now.*

"Hey! There's a slope, I think it's pretty steep." Phe says

"No shit Sherlock!" I yell up, as she takes a step and slips down.

She stops just besides me as I feel a sharp pain in my left shoulder. "Hey Phe, my shoulders outta place!" I see the others found a safer route down as they walk over to check on us. "You two ok?" Lasky asks.

"I think I fucked my ankle over, but I'll be able to walk." Phe responds.

Lasky looks to me. "And you?"

"Well, my helmets fucked and My shoulder is dislocated but I can deal with that..." I say looking down at my literally twisted ankle.

"I think I'll be fine... Just... Just need to... Uhhh... Walk it off. Yeah. Just gotta walk it off." I say painfully popping my shoulder into place with a sickening pop, I try to stand up but as I put pressure on my ankle I scream slightly and fall back down.

"I don't think your ankle is meant to face that way." Phe says looking slightly worried.

"I agree, the condition of your leg leaves you in no position to walk." He says taking a step towards me, helping me up and proceeding to attempt to loop my arm over his shoulder, but there was a major height difference also I can't walk without support so he took it upon himself to carry me bridal style. "W... What are you doing, I... I can walk..." I say getting gradually more and more embarrassed. Lasky looks down at me with a serous face.

"No you can't your ankle is facing the wrong way." "But..."

"Actually you would be surprised, she's walked on worse." Phoenix says, attempting to save me from further argument.

"Such as?" Lasky asked.

"Well, something fell on the lower half of her left leg and crushed below the knee, she voluntarily hoped for a full hours walk."

"She is not doing that, her ankle needs to rest and have no stress on it, at all." And he starts to walk.

"Stubborn bastard." I grumble under my breath.

"I heard that."

"I hope so." I say crossing my arms, looking away from him.

"And she's being a child, again."

"She does this often?"

"For someone as hard-ass as her, she's surprisingly immature."

"Heh, reminds me of some people I know."

"I'm going to the back." Phe says as she slows her walking pace and lags at the back.

"You didn't have to carry me." I say meekly.

"Well, you and Miss Panshura assisted us, and even though you did kind of insult me..."

"I said I was sorry."

"... You helped me and my men, so I'll help you." He says looking down at my smaller frame in his arms.

"Thank you... and... and I'm sorry for insulting you." I mumbled.

After halve an hour and a few altercations with the strange machines, and of Lasky carrying me walking we reached a very advanced looking structure buried in the forestry.

"Commander this is the structure I detected on my map, there's a clearing a bit further along you could try to secure as a landing zone." I informed him.

"Thank you for finding the location for us."

"It's standard protocol, if lost in a unknown location and if you have wounded find a safe structure of a defensible position and head there immediately."

"That makes sense. "

"Also Commander?"

"Yes?"

"Can you put me down now, I want to scan the structure, and maybe some of the plants, see if any have medicinal uses?"

"Sure but either me or another marine will accompany you. You still haven't explained what a Biotic is."

"I understand I guess we have plenty of time now for me and Phe to explain a biotic, but I also have the information on my Omni-tool." I say activating it and pulling up the files on Biotics.

After a few minuets of him reading the information he looks at me. "So it's like telekinesis?" He asked curiously.

"Kind of, it is hard to explain but it has a multitude of uses, but just believe this me and Phe are on your side." I say reassuringly.

"Hey, I'm convinced. I think that the Lieutenant will need more convincing that me." he says smiling slightly. I laugh slightly. "So Commander, You said that you would allow me to take scans of the architecture? May I?" I say keeping eye contact with the taller male. He thought for a few seconds. "Sure, but I did say with supervision, and since your leg is still the.. uh... way it is. I will accompany you." He says wrapping an arm around my waist to allow me to walk properly. I huff in mild annoyance. "I'm not a child you know."

He looks down at me from the corner of his eye as we were walking about the large space of the structure. "Well you sure do act like one." He says mildly amused.

I was about to say something in response but we stop by what looks to be a terminal. "Scan away, Little Biotic." He says almost teasingly.

"You do know I can make you have to cling to the ceiling right?" He gulps.

After a few moments going through the alien terminal, and learning about these Forerunners, and me and the Commander poking fun at each other.

We both hear the Lieutenant's voice ring through, Commander picking p movement outside the door." A few seconds of silence. "It's the Master Chief, sir."

"Affirmative Lieutenant." As he wraps his arm around my waist again. Escorting me back to the main area.

#this is cringey #i am sorry #captain lasky x oc #mass effect x halo #Across Dimensions

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archangel1023 · 6 years

Text

PJO Mass Effect AU

You can find the first two chapters here (Chapter 1) (Chapter 2)

The airlock slid open, and Percy shot out like someone who hadn’t been on solid ground for years, and Chase sighed as she followed him out, her eyes darting around, scanning the docks for anything out of place. Three feet behind her and just to her right, Jason followed, his head on a swivel. The armed and armored pair drew more than a few suspicious glances in their direction from the Asari when they reached the main market, but most looked away when they recognized humanity’s newest Spectre.

“Leo, you have anything?” Chase asked, looking for Percy in the crowd.

“Not yet, Commander, but I’ll tell you the second I get anything.” He said, and Commander Chase switched channels.

“Jackson, where the hell did you run off to?” She asked, and when she didn’t receive anything in response for a long few seconds, she looked back, unamused, at Jason, who shrugged.

“Jackson? You better have your omni tool synced to the right channel.” Chase said, and after a few seconds, she heard a crackle through the channel, and Percy’s deep laugh filled her ear, though something seemed off about it.

“Don’t worry, Commander, I heard you the first time. I was trying to maintain a cover.” He said, quietly, making the Commander strain to hear it. Chase shot a look to Jason.

“Why were you maintaining a cover? Are you in danger?” She asked, and they didn’t hear anything in response for a few seconds before Percy laughed again, clearly forcing it.

“Wetworks team. South side of the market. They’re past me now, but I bet we can guess who they’re here for.” He said, not as quietly. Annabeth looked at Jason, who nodded, and the two of them started sliding through the crowds.

“We’re on our way, Jackson. Don’t do anything stupid.” Chase said, and Percy laughed, this time genuinely.

“Me, do something stupid? I would never.” He said, and his line crackled as he turned off his comlink.

“Leo, can you give me a hard location on the wetworks team?” Commander Chase asked, still making her way through the market. It took a second, but Leo’s voice crackled to life in her ear.

“Without their omni tool signatures? Not possible, Commander. I’m sorry.” He said, and Chase cursed under her breath.

“No worries, Leo. Just keep me updated on M’Clean’s position.” She cut the link out as they left the market through the south entrance. She saw Percy’s black armor down the street, and a group of around twelve plain-clothed humans past him, who looked around before all but one ducked into a building.

“Jason, rooftop across the street. Percy, wait for me.” Chase ordered, before slowly disappearing as her tactical cloak took effect and she slowly walked down the street, weaving through the people on the street. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jason duck into an alleyway, and Percy, down the street, post up near the building, his gaze locked on the guard outside, one hand on his shotgun, and the other idly playing with biotic energy.

“Leo, any updates?” Chase asked.

“I managed to commandeer some satellites, Commander. That building has two entrances. The one you guys are at, and one on the other side of the building, which has someone standing outside it as well. I also managed to locate M’Clean’s omnitool signal, and it’s showing her on the roof.” The quarian said, and Commander Chase smiled.

“Good job, Leo. Tell us if anything changes.” Chase said, before sprinting towards the guard, drawing a knife from her boot as she did so. When she reached the guard, she threw an arm tight around his throat and dragged him, thrashing and flailing, into a nearby alley before slashing his throat with her knife and tossing the body on the ground before joining Percy at the door of the building, her cloak having deactivated in her brief scuffle with the guard.

“We’re doing this quiet?” Percy asked, and their line crackled open.

“I wouldn’t bet on it. The guys upstairs are moving around, looking worried. I think they know you got their guard.” Jason said, and Annabeth took a few steps back.

“Make some noise, Jackson, maybe we can draw heat off M’Clean.” She said, and Percy smiled ruefully before burying a boot into the door of the building, blasting the sliding door out of it’s frame with a massive bang. Chase followed Percy through the smoking hole where the door once was, biotic energy slowly dissipating into the air as they did so.

“Three floors up, Commander, some of them are coming to you.” Jason said, and she heard glass shattering from somewhere above them. “One down.”

Percy ran up the stairs, spotting the first mercenary just before he reached the landing for the second floor. The mercenary dropped to a shotgun blast, and Percy turned on his heel to see a mass of mercenaries on their way down. Chase, cloaked by his side, dropped one in the back before Percy charged forward, biotic energy exploding out from him as he smashed into the closest merc, slamming them into the merc behind them on the stairs. The first merc dropped to the ground, unconscious, and the second merc tried to get a shot off around his friend, but got a shotgun blast to the chest for his troubles.

Chase dropped another merc with a few shots through his chest, and the other had his chest blown in by Jackson’s shotgun. Chase shot the unconscious marine, before sprinting up the stairs after her vanguard, careful not to slip on the blood. They only had one more merc to deal with before they reached the roof, and he died before he even spotted Percy, courtesy of Chase’s tactical cloak. They reached the top of the stairwell, and found the door blocked from the other side. With a nod from the Commander, who quickly braced herself, Percy took a few steps back, before charging forward, biotic energy throwing the door, a fair bit of the wall around it, and the rubble that was blocking it, flying through the air.

They found Piper tied up and gagged behind the mercenaries, who were trying and failing to hit Jason across the street, who had already dropped four of the mercenaries. When Percy burst through, however, they turned to deal with him as Chase, once again cloaked, ran to flank them, passing Piper who looked to be shaking off a sedative. Commander Chase got into cover and started firing on the mercenaries, relieving some pressure off Percy, who quickly hopped back into the relative safety of the stairwell to recover while Jason and Commander Chase picked off the mercenaries slowly.

When Percy looked out from cover, he saw Piper break the zip ties around her wrists with a burst of biotic energy before getting to her feet, albeit a bit unsurely. He had to duck back into cover when a hail of bullets filled the air where his head was, but when he managed to look back, Piper had created a singularity above the remaining mercenaries, and he shot forward, his charge taking him into the middle of the mercenaries, and then slamming down onto the roof, barrier exploding outward in a nova that launched the mercenaries every which way before they fell limply down onto the roof. When he fell to the ground, he stumbled, trying to regain his bearings, but Commander Chase was there to steady him with a hand on his arm.

“Thanks, Commander.” Percy said, and she nodded as the Asari approached them, tilting her head thoughtfully at Percy.

“Thank you for the rescue.” Piper glanced momentarily at Commander Chase before looking back at Percy, and seemed to add, almost as an afterthought, “The both of you.”

“You’re welcome.” Chase said, scanning the Asari, noting the light armor, primarily black, accented with blue, that clung to her like a second skin, but for her overcoat of sorts, which hung a bit past her waist.

“Jason, head back to the Normandy. Jackson and I can take it from here.” Commander chase said, into her earpiece, turning it off when she heard Jason’s assent from the other end.

“The Commander I’ve already heard of, but who are you, soldier?” Piper asked, turning herself to completely face the Lieutenant, and it’s the first time that Annabeth notices the asari had small golden rings encircling the outermost layer of crests on her head, the light of Illium’s sun glinting off the metal.

“Lieutenant Percy Jackson.” Percy managed to look almost bored with the whole thing.

“You’re a very powerful biotic, Percy.” Piper said, leaning a bit closer to him, and he blinked a few times, unfazed.

“What is it you do, exactly, ma’am?” He inquired, and Piper straightened up, her lip in a pout.

“All business no play makes Percy a dull boy.” She commented, glancing at Annabeth, who had crossed her arms, and looked unimpressed. Piper looked between the two and rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“I’ve studied and done many things, but most recently I was an intelligence officer for the military.” She answered.

“And now?” Commander Chase asked, and Piper sighed.

“And now, I suspect, you hope that I’ll be something of an intelligence goldmine for you and your boy toy here.” Piper answered, not missing the way Percy blushed minutely.

“Well, here’s hoping.” Annabeth replied, and Piper smiled, looping her arm with the Commander’s and leading her towards the stairwell.

“Then there is little time to waste.” The asari said, as she led the Commander down the stairs, leaving Percy to have to jog to catch up. When the trio reached the bottom of the stairs, they found that the street had been mostly deserted, and Percy felt something sink in the pit of his stomach.

“Trap.” He blurted out, looking both ways. Annabeth raised an eyebrow at him, but Piper nodded.

“This street is literally never this deserted.” The asari said, eyes widening as she looked skyward. Annabeth followed her gaze and quickly dove back into the building, dragging Piper with her as they dove for cover. Percy had dove in with them, and was on the opposite side of the doorway as several explosions rocked the building and the street around them. A particularly bad explosion rocked the street, and knocked Annabeth off her feet. The commander hit the ground, hard, blacking out for a few seconds, and curling into a ball, her hands covering her head when she came to. When the ground stopped shaking, Annabeth was left with a ringing in her ears that persisted for several seconds as she slowly sat up and looked around, noticing the blue shimmering dome that had formed around her.

Piper was crouched, her face twisted in concentration as she struggled to retain the barrier that was holding the rubble off of her and the Commander. A quick glance around revealed to the Commander that Percy was not in the bubble with them, but she heard rubble moving around them outside the bubble.

“You think your boyfriend could hurry up and dig us out? This is starting to get really heavy.” The asari said, through gritted teeth, and Commander Chase tapped at her omni tool a few times, trying to get a clear signal, and failing each time.

“It sounds like he’s more worried with digging himself out first. And he’s not my boyfriend.” Annabeth said, dryly, hearing more rubble move around and then a loud bang, the sounds distorted slightly by the barrier.

“Yeah, well, he could still stand to hurry the hell up.” Piper said, but Annabeth didn’t say anything, instead trying to keep her thoughts from spinning out of control and spiraling into unlikely worst case scenarios. They were stuck there in relative silence for some time, the two of them making some idle small talk every so often before something above them audibly shifted, and Piper felt a weight leave her barrier.

“Someone’s getting close to us.” Piper said, and Commander Chase nodded, drawing her pistol, doing her best to ignore the way the barrel swayed as her vision swam. The largest piece of rubble above them moved, she saw a krogan and a human, and fired reflexively, the bullet winging off of Wrex’s armor. He and Percy moved another piece of rubble, creating a hole large enough to pull Annabeth up through, and Wrex took her while Percy yanked Piper out of the rubble before her barrier failed.

“She hit her head.” Piper said, before passing out, and Percy looked at Wrex, who started lumbering off towards the docks, the jostling from his jogging doing a good job of keeping Annabeth awake. Percy, leaned down with a huff and picked up Piper and started walking back to the Normandy, as skycars flew down, and asari started jumping out. The sizzle and hum of asari biotics filled the air as the rescue crews started piling up the rubble from the street, searching for survivors.

…

When Piper woke up, she opened her eyes to see a clinically white ceiling, with too bright lights shining down into her face. She slowly sat up, noticing first how a pull at her elbow from the needle stuck there, feeding clear liquid into her veins from the bag that was hanging behind her. The pounding headache was the second thing she noticed, and she screwed her eyes shut as she winced. When the pain abated, Piper looked around, noticing first how someone had stripped her of her armor and dressed her in too large black sweatpants and a tank top with picture of Blasto that hung off of her like a dress though it seem she had been left with her boots.

“Percy, unfortunately, was the only one whose clothes the crew could get that wouldn’t be too tight. I hope you can excuse his horrendous movie taste.” Annabeth said, from across the med bay, where she was lying in bed, still in her armor, her legs crossed at the ankles, scrolling through something on her tablet.

“I actually quite like Blasto.” The asari responded, and Annabeth looked at her over the tablet in her hands, trying to figure out if she was being genuine or not.

“Miss M’Clean, lovely, you’re awake.” Will said, as he walked in, leaving a bowl of food at his workstation before sanitizing his hands and walking over to the asari.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, as he ran a scan on her with his omni tool.

“I’m doing very well, Doctor. Thank you for taking care of me.” She answered, getting a smile from Will that disappeared when he turned to look at the Commander across the bed from her.

“I’m just doing my job, but I always enjoy when my work is actually appreciated.” He said, and Annabeth looked up, saw him staring at her while Piper tried to restrain a laugh.

“Thank you, Will, for telling me that I need to be careful for a few days while I recover from my concussion. I never would have figured that out myself.” Annabeth deadpanned, and the doctor frowned at her.

“Sarcasm is unbecoming of you, ma’am.” He said, turning back around to read his omni tool.

“In my defense, I am concussed.” The commander replied, and the medbay went quiet for a little bit before Annabeth hit a button on her tablet, causing the audio from the news report she was watching to play through the speaker of the tablet.

“-shows two individuals, since identified as Lieutenant Percy Jackson of the Earth Systems Alliance, and Krogan Mercenary Urdnot Wrex, digging through the rubble to try to help survivors. Their presence has so far been unexplained, but-” Annabeth cursed under her breath as she quickly turned off the speaker.

“You just need food and rest, Miss M’Clean. Try not to use your biotics for the next few days, it could cause more fainting spells if you did, and brain damage if you overexert yourself again.” Will removed her IV before walking to his desk with a last smile to the asari. Piper nodded as the doctor walked away, and Annabeth jumped off her bed to help the asari to her feet. Piper was wobbly for a few seconds before she regained her bearings, and the two of them started walking towards the door.

“I have some clothes in my cabin that should be about the right size. You can take them while you’re on the ship. At least, until you get your own.” Annabeth said, leading the asari to the elevator, glancing to the right to look into the kitchen area, where Jason, Percy, Wrex, and Leo were talking in one group, their cook Travis, not far away as he prepared some food. Closer to the elevator, at the main dining table, Commander Chase saw Zoe sitting and eating with several of the Alliance personnel on the ship.

“Why isn’t your boy toy with the rest of the humans?” Piper asked, innocently, and Annabeth turned her head to glare at the asari as they walked past the kitchen. Percy’s gaze followed them momentarily before he turned back to focus on his conversation with Travis.

“First, not my boy toy. Not even close.” Annabeth said, opening the door to her cabin, and motioning Piper in first. “Second, I’m not sure, you’ll have to ask him.”

“So it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s a biotic, or friends with your alien crew members?” Piper asked, far too innocently for it to be genuine, and Annabeth looked at her.

“If you’re fishing for information, I can’t give it to you. You’ll have to ask him.” Annabeth said, stopping dead when she realized there was a small package on her bed with a card taped to the top of it. Her eyes went wide and she turned and ran out the door, leaving a baffled Piper behind. She quickly turned on a dime right out the door, her footsteps causing Travis to turn to look at her, confused.

“Was she here?” Commander Chase asked, a wide smile on her face that faltered momentarily when Travis looked at her, confused.

“What do you mean?” He asked, and her smile fell.

“There’s a package on my bed, she said- I thought- She really wasn’t here at all?” She asked, Travis’s expression cleared, and he shook his head sadly. Immediately, Annabeth’s face was an emotional mask once again, and she nodded, turning on her heel and walking back into her room. When she was back in her room, she sighed heavily, walking past a deeply confused Piper to her bed, where she opened the card and read it. After a few seconds Piper watched the commander delicately fold the card and put it back in it’s envelope, placing the envelope back on top of the package. Finally, with another sigh, she gathered herself and turned to Piper, who was watching her, looking morose.

“Clothes are in the closet and the drawers next to it. I’m going to get out of my armor and shower. Are you going to want to shower after me?” Annabeth asked. Piper shook her head, and Annabeth turned towards the bathroom. When she heard Annabeth’s armor hit the ground, the asari glanced momentarily at the envelope, before deciding better, and turning to the closet. Piper pulled on a pair of Annabeth’s fatigue pants, which she had to roll up at the ankles before tucking into her boots, and a normal black t shirt that was just slightly too big for her.

When Annabeth walked out of the shower, Piper sat down at the commander’s desk, and started working on something on her omni tool until Annabeth called her name, causing the asari to swivel the chair around to see the commander. Annabeth now wore the same fatigue pants that Piper did, though they clearly fit her much better, that were tucked into boots. She also wore a black t shirt, but she wore a sweatshirt over it. Primarily black, it had the white and red N7 emblem on the right side of her chest, and the same red and white stripes down her right arm as her armor.

“That’s a nice sweatshirt.” Piper said, and Annabeth smiled sadly.

“A custom order my friend had sent to me.” The commander clarified.

“Close friend?” Piper asked quietly. Commander Chase nodded.

“Best friend.” She replied, and Piper hummed sadly.

“A shame she couldn’t deliver it herself.” Piper prodded gently.

“Yeah.” Chase said, looking sadly at the ground.

“How would you feel about a new hairdo?” Piper blurted, and Annabeth tilted her head in thought before smiling.

…

Percy was standing at the island, watching Travis cook a dextro meal for Jason and Leo, idly chatting with Wrex, when he got beaned in the side of his head with a mass of clothes that obscured his vision for a few seconds. While Wrex laughed, Percy snatched the clothes out of the air as they started to fall to see Piper, hip cocked, and her lips in a smirk that only grew when Percy glared at her.

“Commander Chase wants everyone in the comm room upstairs for a debrief in fifteen minutes.” The asari said, looking pointedly at Wrex, Leo, and Jason when her eyes left Percy’s.

“And Jackson, I like the tank top. Always fun to meet another Blasto fan.” She said, before walking away, leaving Percy to turn back around to the table, where all the other men were dead silent.

“She’s very strange for an asari.” Wrex rumbled, and Percy laughed, kicking off chuckles from Jason, a strange distorted chortling from Leo, and a deep rumbling laugh from the krogan while Travis rolled his eyes and got back to cooking.

When Percy made his way up to the comm room, the first thing he noticed were the chairs, three on either side of the circle, and Piper already sitting down in the chair farthest from the entrance on the left. He made his way to the chair on the right in the same position, and slumped into it. After a few moments of silence in the room, Percy raked his hand through his hair, looking around for something to do, his foot bouncing on the ground.

“Do you ever sit still?” Piper asked, looking up from her omni tool.

“No.” Percy replied quickly, his foot slowing minutely.

“Why weren’t you sitting with the other Alliance marines?” She asked, and Percy shot her a look that had her putting her hands up in mock surrender. Silence fell back over the room except for the light tapping that came from Percy’s foot. A minute or so passed and the door to the comm room slid open, letting in first Jason, then Wrex and Leo, and, noticeably distancing herself from the aliens, Zoe. Percy stood up and started talking to the aliens that walked over to join him, while Zoe stayed standing on the walkway, leaning on the railing.

“Saw you and Wrex made the news.” Leo said, showing the picture to Percy when the vanguard quirked an eyebrow at the quarian.

“Not a bad picture.” Percy commented, studying it briefly. The picture in question showed him and Wrex struggling to move a particularly large piece of rubble off of the mountain on top of Piper and Annabeth.

“Do you know who attacked us?” Piper asked, and Percy looked over his shoulder at her.

“I’m pretty sure there’s only one person that wants you, me, and the commander dead. Our venn diagrams of enemies have basically no overlap.” He responded, and Piper opened her mouth to respond, but closed it when Chase walked in. Everybody but Piper turned to look except for Piper, who smiled and took a picture of the commander on her omni tool. The left side of Commander Chase’s head had been shaved in an undercut, her hair had been removed from it’s typical ponytail and had been swiped over to the right side of her head, hanging down past her chin.

“Nice jacket, Commander.” Percy commented, and Piper threw her hands up in disbelief behind his back, rolling her eyes. Annabeth, meanwhile, smiled.

“Thank you, Jackson. It was a gift.” She replied, walking into the center of the comm room while everyone took seats around the circle, except for Wrex, who grumbled about small chairs and remained standing, behind the chair in between Piper and Zoe.

“Alright. Now that we’re all here, Piper, if you could explain for us why Luke might be coming after you.” Annabeth turned to the Asari.

“Outside of the obvious fact that I’m Benezia’s daughter?” She asked, and Annabeth nodded.

“Well, if Chase’s vision on Eden Prime was what you say it was, it’s because many years ago, when I was still attending university, I did extensive research into the Prothean extinction, as my doctoral thesis was on the subject.” Piper explained, and Percy shot her a strange look.

“You have a doctorate?” He asked, genuine surprise lacing his voice.

“PhD. In Prothean archaeology.” Noticing the strange looks from the crew members around the room, including the commander, she crossed her arms in a huff. “I was going through a rebellious phase in college.”

“Do you know anything about a Conduit?” Annabeth asked, and Piper took a few seconds to think before shaking her head.

“Not really. I found a few mentions that only said it’s Prothean. It came up several times in my research, but nothing I found gave a description, or a location. Although, I didn’t do too much research into it.” Piper explained.

“But it definitely exists.” Annabeth stated, and Piper nodded.

“Okay. Then we make for Noveria.” Annabeth decided, earning strange looks from her crew members.

“Why Noveria?” Zoe asked.

“Geth activity. Got an message from the Council telling me they wanted it investigated. Noveria’s not keen on the Council, or really any type of established authority outside their own, so Zoe and Jason, you’ll have to stay behind. Jackson, Wrex, Piper and Leo, I want you all prepped and ready to go.” Annabeth asked, getting a begrudging nod from Jason, and an indignant scoff from Zoe.

“Really? You’re leaving me but taking Jackson? He’s Alliance same as me.” She protested.

“Sure, but where you scream Alliance even out of uniform, Jackson’s covered in tattoos, including a pretty obvious gang mark. He can dress down, right?” Piper asked, looking at Percy, who nodded, his eyes watching her suspiciously.

“Easily. Not the first time I’ve gone incog for a mission.” He remarked, and Piper gestured towards him, looking at Zoe, who grumbled something under her breath.

“Wanna say that loud enough for me to hear?” Percy asked, his voice challenging.

“I said ‘I’m surprised you know the word incognito.’” Zoe bit back, and Percy shot to his feet.

“You got a problem with me, Nightshade?” He asked, and she stood up as well, opening her mouth to reply before Annabeth stepped in between them.

“That’s enough. Both of you calm down. All of you are dismissed, but if I hear about you two fighting, I’ll court martial the both of you.” Annabeth said, looking between Zoe and Percy, waiting for both to nod before she stepped back, and the crew members, sans Piper, streamed out.

“I like him more and more every minute.” Piper said, and Annabeth turned a deadpan gaze on the Asari.

“What? I’m not allowed to admire a fine specimen like that?” Annabeth didn’t say anything.

“Fine, he’s not really my type anyway. Seems too wild and uncontrollable. I think we’re too similar, you know?” Piper said, and Annabeth continued to just stare at the asari.

“Alright, Commander. I can take a hint. I’ll talk to you later.” Piper said, walking out of the comm room to the elevator and taking it down to the cargo bay. The large six wheeled Mako filled the majority of the space, with Jason standing next to it at a terminal, typing away. On top of the Mako, Piper saw Percy and Leo squatting on top of the Mako around the turret.

“What about now?” Percy asked, and Jason hit a few buttons, making the turret twitch, but ultimately not much else.

“Nothing. It’s got to be on your end. We had the same issue when I ran the tests from inside the Mako.” Jason said, and Percy rubbed the back of his head in thought.

“Piece of shit. Why the hell do we still use these rolling piles of garbage? They’re deathtraps anyway.” Percy mused to himself as he walked over to Leo, who was in the process of exposing all the wiring he could find in the exterior of the turret.

“What’s going on, boys?” Piper asked, walking up next to Jason, who spared a quick glance at her before returning to typing at the terminal.

“Look under the base of the barrel, there might be bad wires in the hinge.” He said, and Leo was quick to scramble under the turret.

“Alliance delivered the Mako while you and Chase were out, but since it’s the Alliance, and the Mako is the worst vehicle ever devised by man, the turret is malfunctioning.” Percy said, and Piper looked concerned.

“In what way?” She asked, and Percy shrugged his shoulders.

“Seems to change every time we run diagnostics. Knowing the Alliance, there’s several things wrong, and we’ll be up here for days just figuring out what’s wrong, nevermind figuring out how to fix it.” He said, quickly turning around when Leo shouted for his help, the biotic carefully lifting the barrel so Leo could pry some armored panels off at the hinge.

“What do you think is the problem?” Piper asked, looking at Jason, who shot her a look out of the corner of his eye.

“I think the problem is that the Alliance brass doesn’t want our Commander to succeed and further tarnish the reputation of a man who was, for a long time, the poster child of humanity.” Jason said, making Piper frown.

“That is deeply cynical.” She replied, but got a derisive laugh from the top of the Mako.

“It would track! Admiral Hackett’s the only Admiral I trust to do the right thing, but he’s way outnumbered. The brass has a long history of covering up issues, ignoring glaring problems, and making decisions that are morally ambiguous at best. Just look at Torfan.” Percy yelled down, and Piper looked inquisitively at Jason, who shrugged his shoulders.

“What happened on Torfan?” Piper asked, and they heard Percy slowly lower the turret and walk to the edge before dropping to sit on the edge, his feet dangling in the air while he looked down at the two aliens, one of whom was doing a bad job of feigning disinterest.

“Really? Nothing? I thought you were an intelligence officer.” He said, wiping some sweat from his brow.

“I worked mostly in salarian space. Unless Torfan was a battle between humanity and the salarians, I probably wouldn’t have heard of it.” Piper said, and Jason hit a few more buttons, making the turret jiggle, eliciting a scream and a stream of high pitched curses from Leo as he scrambled out from under the turret.

“Torfan was humanity’s retaliation for the Skyllian Blitz. You know, the one Chase got her Star of Terra from?” Percy looked at the two aliens, smiling slightly when he noticed Jason had stopped typing at the monitor, and was watching Percy out of the corner of his eye.

“Well, the brass decided that proportional response required the mustering of several full marine divisions, and sending us to the small moon of Torfan, which was largely populated by batarian slavers and other assorted criminals, in strongholds deep underground. The batarians didn’t expect an assault, and Torfan was a brutal attack, where criminals and surrendered prisoners were killed by the thousands, all because the Alliance brass ordered it.” Percy said, and it was the first time that Piper noticed how deadly quiet the cargo bay had become. Even the engineers in the engine room were stock still at their stations, just barely able to hear what Percy was saying.

“See, a lot of COs landed on Torfan, and did fine until the brass ordered prisoners killed. They didn’t know what to do then. Do they follow orders, or do they follow their own judgement? The brass would never steer us wrong, right? They would never willingly let their soldiers commit atrocities in the name of furthering an agenda, right? Too many COs had lost too many good men in the push, and when there was no hostile batarian left, no armed batarian shooting at them, they willingly turned their anger and rage towards the batarian prisoners when they got their orders. A proportional military response to an attack on a human colony. That’s how it was justified to the civilians.

“A slaughter. That’s what Torfan really was. Plain and simple. And when I refused to let my CO give the order to kill our prisoners, my company was almost court martialed. As it was, I got booted from the division, put on leave, and sent to talk to a shrink, some nonsense about the battlefield stress getting to me. All because I wouldn’t pull the trigger on unarmed prisoners. Prisoners who had families, who had nothing to do with the Blitz, and who had willingly surrendered themselves to our mercy. So, yeah, I believe that the brass would want us to fail.” Percy said, before hopping down from the Mako.

“Sorry, guys, I just remembered I have something else I need to do.” Percy walked off, with a wave over his shoulder. Piper went to follow him, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder from Jason, who pointed towards the corner of the cargo bay, where a camera had a blinking red light next to the lens.

#pjo #pjo mass effect au #mass effect au #mass effect

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kipaia-2 · 2 years

Text

Her Mother’s Daughter

Read on ao3

Lt. Colonel Tui Shepard tapped one finger idly on the edge of her datapad as she inspected once again the report from the BAaT. It was . . . Well, it was certainly something. Both of her children had more of a tendency towards chaos and recklessness than she or Hannah would have preferred, but of the two she wouldn't have picked Athena as the one to come home pregnant at sixteen. She stifled a sigh, one eye on the surrounding passengers in the tiny transport shuttle back to Arcturus. Thank god the Fuji had been due in the system for a fleet shuffle; she probably wouldn't have been able to get the leave to come home and deal with this otherwise.

Her omni-tool pinged, drawing her attention away from the vague but damning ultrasound images. David. Eta?

Half hour. En route via shuttle now, no docking bay yet. Sitrep?

There's several minutes worth of tapping before his reply comes back. Stable so far. Athena has been calm but seems shaken. Has a wound on her arm she won't tell me about. I've passed word up the line; something isn't going right with BAaT.

Tui frowned, consciously keeping her hands from clenching the edges of her datapad hard enough to break it. The tapping sped up slightly. Where's Hannah?

The lack of response after several minutes was all the response she needed. Carefully sliding her datapad back into her bag, Tui leaned back in her seat and focused on her breathing. In . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4. Hold . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4. Release . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . 5 . . . 6 . . . 7. Repeat. She kept the pattern going until the pilot announced docking procedures and then opened her omni-tool again, sending David a quick message letting him know she'd pick up Hannah on her way back and to not expect them for at least an hour. Bag in hand, she rose as soon as docking was finished and made her way through the crowded bay into the heart of Arcturus Station. It would have been nice to do her usual homecoming routine of a nice tea from Luna’Cafe and then people watching while she decompressed from whatever her last deployment had been, but now was not the time. Not while her wife was probably staring down the barrel of her sixth glass of whiskey and her daughter was home injured from what was supposed to be a simple training program. Instead she walked briskly, her face a mask of stony indifference paired with the bars on her arm enough to clear a path as she marched her way through the massive station until she found the familiar pulsing neon of her wife's favorite bar. A quick nod to Theo at the bar and he waved her over urgently. "Colonel. Wish I was seeing you under better circumstances."

She couldn't hide the wince. That bad? It was barely thirteen hundred. "Tab?"

He swiped the charges to her and she kept the groan at bay by sheer willpower. Eight. It was only 1300. "Sounds like you got here just in time." Theo hesitated. Tui had enough brainpower to idly wonder why it was that he would hesitate to tell her anything when he'd not only mopped up her wife on numerous occasions, but had dragged her own sorry ass home more than once. The man was a marine to his core, though, even seven years out; a sober colonel was probably a hell of a lot more intimidating than a sober one. "Listen. She's been telling everyone who walks by everything that's going on. I got her set up in the back corner because that's not fair to Athena, but . . . I don't think this is the kind of situation she should be drinking through. If she comes back before I get the all clear from you, I'm not serving her."

One thing at a time. She nodded as she paid the tab, adding a hefty tip for good measure. "I appreciate that, Theo. Do me a favor and pass word around if you can? She's going to need at least two weeks before she's out of house arrest."

To her relief, he chuckled at that. "Anytime, boss. I'm not one to pass down good business, but some things are more important than the bottom of a bottle. Besides, I almost like you guys. Can't have one of your family wasting away in my bar."

That was both sweet and concerning, both feelings of which were only amplified when he reached under the bar and pulled out a small bag, handing it to her with a shy sort of smile that made his lined face seem almost boyish. "For Athena. And the baby. Ain't much, but you know how Sam feels about kids. I'm going to have my hands full keeping them from buying out the baby clothes down at the shops. Tui took the bag with a smile and a quick thanks and then excused herself to retrieve her wife.

Hannah was indeed curled up in the back corner, taking a whole booth to herself and staring morosely at her omni-tool. Tui couldn't make out what she was looking at from her angle, but whatever it was gave her wife the sort of sad, nostalgic smile she got whenever she spoke of her family on Shanxi. It was beautiful in its own sort of melancholic way; she was beautiful. Even now, nearly twenty years after they first met, face lined and hair beginning to go grey as she sat in a bar drunk off her ass, she could still make Tui's heart pound.

Dropping her bag and Theo's on the floor at the edge of the booth, Tui slid into the seat beside her wife and leaned over to see what it was her wife was so enamored with. Familiar pictures of two children, mayhem incarnate, fluttered past, and Tui smiled softly. Of course. "These are the ones from New Zealand, right?" she whispered in Hannah's ear.

Hannah jolted, nose nearly colliding with Tui's forehead as she whipped around to greet her wife. "Tui!" she exclaimed, pictures disappearing as the interface dropped when she flung her arms around her. "Thank god. I missed you!" She pulled back just long enough to plant a decidedly sloppy kiss on Tui's cheek, but Tui just grinned at her and got one arm around behind her so that she could pull her in for a one-sided hug. "I was just-" she gestured vaguely, the pictures she was trying to point to flung around as she waved her wrist."Looking at pictures? They were so cute when they were little! Do you think Athena's baby will be that cute? It'll have to be, right? She showed me a picture of the boy, and he's handsome enough. Takes after his father. You remember Oleg? That passive aggressive shithead from Earth? The corporal?"

Tui hummed. "I think he was promoted to sergeant before he left, but yes, I remember." Interesting. She hadn't realized the two were related. Her nose wrinkled at the thought of having to deal with him again.

Hannah booped her nose. "Don't do that," she complained. "Don't . . . think so much. I'm tired of thinking. Oh my god!" She flung herself upright fast enough that Tui almost found herself thrown from the booth as her wife turned and planted both hands on her shoulders. "Tui. You're here. We haven't had sex in ages!" She let her weight drop against Tui's chest and took a deep breath. "Do you think Theo would let us use a back room?"

"Theo doesn't have back rooms, dearest," Tui replied softly as she began to rub slow circles in Hannah's back. Her wife was usually reserved to the point of sheer ridiculousness in public, but this was usually the state she was in at about the time her tolerance ran out.

Think of the devil. Hannah's weight sagged suddenly, limbs going heavy against Tui who sighed and continued to rub circles. She had missed her wife too. Hadn't missed finding her in this state, though. No wonder Pol never wanted to come home during his school breaks.

When she'd decided it was safe to move the lightly snoring Hannah without causing a ruckus, she opened her omni-tool and awkwardly typed out a message for David. Song's Bar. Need help with extraction.

He responded immediately. Ten minutes.

They didn't deserve a friend like David. By the time he walked into the bar, Tui had Hannah upright with one arm thrown over her shoulder so they could stumble their way home. David gave her a nod for a greeting and grabbed her bags before turning and leading the way without a word. Tui shook her head as she dragged Hannah after him. Never one for public outbursts.

It took far longer than the ten minutes it had taken David to reach them to finally return to the Shepard apartment. David took Hannah and helped her stumble to their bedroom and dumped her unceremoniously onto the bed. Tui sat heavily on the end, taking a moment just to sit and catch her breath before moving on to the next problem. "How are we supposed to make this work?" she asked as David put a glass of water and some meds on the nightstand next to Hannah's side of the bed. "If she wants to keep it. I don't know what to do, David. Hannah isn't reliable, and . . . I don't want to put my career on pause to raise a baby. It'd be easier if she just wants to get rid of it, but I'm afraid she'll make the decision with her heart instead of her head."

Sitting next to her, gently pushing Hannah's legs out of the way, David finally pulled her into a tight hug that Tui found herself melting into. It was nice not to have to be the adult in the room for a few minutes. Half her job felt like babysitting rookie marines, and coming home only to immediately have to retrieve her drunk wife from a bar was pushing a little too close to tiring for someone who still hadn't dealt with the actual reason she was here. "When was the last time you ate?"

She thought about it. Then thought some more. "Yesterday?"

He chuckled and stood once more. "Stay here. I'll get you something; take a minute to breathe. You've had a hell of a day." She could hear him shuffling around in the kitchen, and then a murmur of low voices before he returned alone, a plate of potatoes and sausage in his hands.

"You are my hero," Tui said fervently as she took the plate and started eating. "Was that Athena in the kitchen with you?"

He nodded, leaning against the wall by the door with his arms crossed. "All things considered, I'd say she's handling the situation well."

She grunted. "What did you mean earlier? About BAaT? You said she's hurt?"

"She has some sort of cut on her arm. I can't get her to tell me what happened, but I know one of the doctors on Gagarin. Just waiting to hear back from her. The way Athena's been acting around me has me worried. I won't lie to you, Tui, she was skittish as hell when I got here yesterday. I've never seen her like that, and for all she's willing to talk about her boyfriend, she hasn't said a word about what BAaT itself was like." David's face was hard as he scowled at Tui. "I've asked Commander Nelson to look into it, but it will take some time."

"What a mess." Tui sighed, looking at her passed out wife and then back to David. "Can I ask one more favor of you?"

His face softened. "You of all people should know that I'd do a lot more than a few favors. You earned all this and more, Tui. Tell me what you need."

"I need you to go find Pol. I don't need him to come home, but I got a message from the school this morning that he snuck off campus again last night and hasn't made his way back yet. I just want eyes on him, if you can."

"I'll take care of it. You good for now?"

She got to her feet and nodded. "Thank you, David. I can't tell you how much you being here means to me."

"Anytime." He winked and disappeared, leaving Tui to return her plate to the kitchen and go in search of her daughter.

She found her on the couch in the living room staring out the viewport at the endless expanse beyond and cradling a mug of hot cocoa. The sight made her pause; Athena hadn't noticed her yet. How long had it been since she'd seen her daughter? Was it really three years? No. Almost four. She'd grown so much and in so many ways, and Tui had missed all of it.

Wishing things were different did not make it so. Her daughter gave a start when she stepped into the room, nearly spilling her cocoa as she started to get up but Tui fixed her daughter with a heavy look that pinned her to the couch and sat in the loveseat next to it. They could do the reunion stuff later. Now was the time for her first adult conversation with her teenage daughter. "So. Athena. What do you want to do?"

There were times she would swear to see the gears turning in this girl's mind. Athena had stopped being a child the day she went to Jump Zero, and the way her mind worked only made her seem older than fifteen. Tui had to remind herself constantly just how young her daughter was. With a wary gaze, Athena answered slowly. "Shouldn't Mikhael be here for this?"

"Frankly? No." Athena's eyes widened in surprise. "If you really want him to be here, we can wait for a conference to be set up with Jump Zero and he can be included. But this isn't about him right now. It's about you. This is your body and your life that is most affected, most at stake if anything goes wrong. If you don't want to do this, we'll make the arrangements. If you want to put it up for adoption, we'll sort that out too. And if you want this baby, if you're willing to go the distance for it, I'll go the distance with you. We all will."

Her daughter was silent as she absorbed her words. In spite of everything, Tui's mouth quirked. The day Athena realized how few people could keep up with her was the day she'd realize that the whole of the galaxy was in her hands. A baby wasn't going to stop her. It probably would barely slow her down. She just wanted to make sure that whatever decision Athena made was the right one for her, and that it was truly what she wanted.

One by one, Athena calmly asked question after question after question. What was the process like if they chose adoption? What needed to be done if she decided to abort? If she kept the baby, how would they prepare? Who should she speak to? What resources were available to her? If Mikhael stayed in her life, what might that involvement look like? What if things didn't work out? Could she still serve in the Alliance Navy if she was a single mother?

Tui answered each and every question with as much detail as she could, giving honest speculation for the things she didn't know and offering several alternatives to the things Athena didn't care to consider. After they'd exhausted the logistics, the questions became more nebulous. What was a baby like? What sort of things made them hard to deal with? Was it worth it? Was it fair? They spent a lot of time on that one, and every exchange they had only cemented Tui's belief that her daughter was capable of meeting this challenge if that's what she decided to do. It wasn't until the very last question that she saw her daughter falter. "What do I do about Apollo?" she asked, one hand twisting her braid around her fingers. Everything up until now had been speculative; maybes and what ifs and tentative plans. With this question, Tui knew she'd already made up her mind. She wouldn't be worrying about her brother if nothing would ultimately change.

"You tell him to get over himself," Tui stated with all the delicacy of a hammer. "This is about you, remember? You and the baby. He is always going to be your brother. The two of you shared a womb, but that doesn't mean you share one life. If he wants to be part of your life, he needs to accept that there are others who will always be part of your life that aren't him. If it wasn't happening now, it would still happen eventually." She sighed. "Honestly, I was half hoping Jump Zero would help him learn not to rely on you so heavily. I'll have a talk with him too when he comes back; am I correct in assuming you've made your decision?"

Athena nodded, straightening slightly. "I want to keep her. I know it'll be hard, and I'm not expecting anyone else to stop their lives for us, but I can make it work. I will make it work."

Unexpectedly, tears welled up in Tui's eyes and she hastily blinked them away as she stood and pulled her daughter into a fierce hug. "You aren't in this alone, Thena. Your family is with you." A small smile grew on her face at the idea of being a grandmother. Far earlier than she'd expected, but . . . she could get used to the idea of being a grandmother

#Binary Universe #mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #pre-me1 #teenage pregnancy #alcoholism

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askweisswolf · 6 years

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tell me about your ocs! what is their favorite time of day, their hobbies, and most embarrassing fuck-up

I apologize inadvance that I only have three to gush about right now: a Warden Ifinished Origins, Awakening, and Witch Hunt with, a Hawke stalled outin Act 3, and a Shepard I just started over the weekend due to poorimpulse control. Let’s do this!

What is theirfavorite time of day?

Solom Tabris has been and always will be a morning person,much to the dismay of his cousins and the delight of his father. It’san old habit from his training days with Adaia that didn’t die withher, and it’s always been something of a mixed blessing; on onehand he’s usually up before anyone else so hey! Fire’s all set,breakfast is made, everyone gets to relax and talk while he’s onthe road. On the other hand oh Maker, he makes everyone feel so lazy.Even Wynne.

Also Morrigan has many, manycomplaints about this habit because she wants morning cuddles dammitSolom but she’ll never admit it out loud, so instead she justgrumpily follows him around when he gets up during the Blight andcomplains about him keeping her awake at an unreasonable hour.

(The only exception to this is onhis wedding day; a combination of nerves and anger keep Solom uplate, unable to sleep, and he ends up sleeping in quite a bit as aresult. This disorients him for most of the day, and delays hisnormal reactions when Vaughan and friends show up in the alienage.)

OlgierdHawke lovesnight, and not for the reasons most people expect. In truth, yes, hedoes like to go to the Hanged Man for an occasional drink and a gameof cards with his friends (even though he usually loses terribly atcards; he has an awful poker face and always cracks up when he gets agood hand), but that part of the night gets done fairly early. He’snot really a drinker and he can’t tell stories as well as Varric,so it isn’t long before a few hours pass and he heads home.

No,what Olgierd loves about the night is when it gets dark and quiet,and everyone else is asleep. It’s the only time everything in hisbody just seems to settle,and he can process everything that’s happened during the day. InLowtown, this time was spent formulating ways they could earn moneyfor the expedition and how he could stay one step ahead of thetemplars without endangering his family or Aveline; in Hightown heuses this time to answer letters, particularly after he becomesChampion. There’s something about the low light, the smell of ink,and the scratch of writing that helps him relax.

MackenzieShepard had a favorite time ofthe day once, maybe. He thinks. The truth is, ever since Akuze hisability to tell the passage of time has been shot to hell and back;he can recognize that it’s night or day, but it’s not reallysomething that clicks with him. Left to his own devices he won’teven be aware of the time passing, and as a result he’s programmedhis omni-tool to remind him of specific times or hours passed so heremembers to do things like eat and rest.

Ifhe was pressed, he would say his favorite time of day is when heknows the thresher maws aren’t active—but that’s specific toAkuze, and it’s difficult for anyone to track the times of day whenthresher maws will or won’t be active.

Peoplehave stopped asking him about his favorite time of day.

Whatare their hobbies?

SolomTabris grew up in the Denerimalienage, and while he can’t speak for every alienage in Thedas, hecan say that in Denerim song and dance were a huge part of theculture there. He’s never been able to sing, even though Sorisoffered to teach him and Shianni has a voice beautiful enough to beheard in the Chantry, and dancing has never terribly interested him.It’s too similar to fighting, and he finds it hard to focus enoughto differentiate the two in his mind.

Whathe can do,and he enjoys doing it greatly, is play music for Shianni to sing toand Soris to dance to. He has a lute back in Denerim that he leftbehind when Duncan recruited him, something he bought with his ownmoney, and while he understands the need for haste it always breakshis heart that he can’t take it with him when he leaves. He’sabsolutely delighted when Leliana purchases a lute during theirtravels to lighten up the evenings, and he often plays while shesings songs or tells tales.

Lelianalets him keep the lute, at the end of the Blight.

OlgierdHawke has always known he willdepend on his hands, as a mage. His hands are how he casts magic, hishands are where he draws his blood from, and without his hands hedoesn’t know what he would be. It’s no surprise, then, that hisfavorite hobby involves his hands like everything else does. He has ahunting knife from Malcolm, a gift from his younger days when heyearned to be a warrior, and when he isn’t using that knife for hisblood magic, he uses it to carve wood.

Nothingbig or magnificent, of course, oh no. Nothing like that. He only hashis knife and his hands, and asking for anything more would bedrawing eyes to him that he doesn’t want. Instead he picks up smallblocks of wood throughout Kirkwall, and in the quiet times betweeneverything else, he carves. He never has anything specific in mindwhen he starts, but he always ends up with something when he’sdone; he’s carved a mabari for Carver, a recreation of Wesley’sshield for Aveline, and everything in between. All of his friendshave wooden trinkets: a wolf for Fenris, tattoos painstakingly driveninto the wood to match what’s on his skin. A tabby cat for Anders,the eyes painted blue. What he imagines a spirit of wisdom to looklike, for Merrill. An arrow for Varric, though it’s too small forBianca. A slightly roughrecreation of the Prophet Andraste, for Sebastian.

WhenIsabela flees Kirkwall, the only thing she takes with her is the woodcarving of the Rivain country symbol he made for her.

MackenzieShepard likes to fix things.That feels a little expected of him to admit as a hobby, consideringhis profile in the Alliance as an engineer, but it’s true. Eversince he was a child, all he’s wanted to do is fix things;something he picked up from his father, encouraged and solidified byhis mother. He spends his childhood tinkering with toys andappliances Hannah can convince people to part with on space ships,and he never fully drops the habit as an adult.

Asa result, the crew of the Normandy take to carrying old fashionedthings that occasionally require fixing—old watches and otherthings that require being taken apart and put together. Nobody askswhy soldiers are purchasing slightly out of date toy sets, but it’sworth it to see how calm the Commander gets when he’s putting itall back together for someone; and nothing can describe the smile onhis face when a person sits down and asks him if they can help.

Whatis their most embarrassing fuck-up?

SolomTabris once managed to slip outof the alienage completely alone as a child, without his mother orfather. It wasn’t an accident; he wanted to get out, to see whatthings looked like beyond the small walls he’d known all his life,and it was easy enough to be quick and quiet when no one was lookingat him in the first place. All he had to do was stick close to amerchant passing through the area, keep his head down, and boom—hewas out of the alienage.

Hethen proceeded to get horribly lost in the Denerim market for therest of the day.

He’shungry, thirsty, and his feet hurt by the time he manages to get backhome. And of course, getting back into the alienage provesharder than getting outof the alienage. He hasto scale a wall somewhere to get in, and ends up falling head firstinto a bush. He’s quitecontent to stay in thealienage after that until his wedding day.

OlgierdHawke is young and horny whenhe decides it’ll be a good idea to use his magic to show off toconvince a local girl to sleep with him. It is nota good idea; they’reboth drunk when it happens to boot, so all his magic show manages todo is scare her so badly that she runs off in a drunken panic andfalls into a ditch somewhere. It’sa blessing in disguise, since once he pulls her from the ditch she’spassed out from the combination of fear and alcohol. Olgierd haulsthem both to a nearby barn, and tucks them into the hay for thenight.

Muchto his everlasting relief, she remembers nothing in the morning. He,on the other hand, becomes violently ill and terribly hungover. Andhe’s still avirgin.

Thewhole experience puts him off of trying to have sex for quite awhile,at least until he meets Isabela in Kirkwall.

MackenzieShepard is military born andbred, so for the most part he’s composed enough to avoid anyterribly embarrassing situations. That said, there is one moment thatties into his rescue from Akuze. He’s tired, hungry, thirsty, andhasn’t slept for days when the rescue team manages to find him;he’s quite convinced that they’re a hallucination, and a signthat he’s going to die.

Onthe plus side, he doesn’t panic and try to kill them.

Hedoes spendan annoyingly long amount of time arguing with them about whether ornot they’re actually real, an argument that lasts until one of themgets close enough to tranquilize him. It’s not something that isterribly funny at the time, but once he’s made some measure ofpeace with Akuze he can look back on it and laugh, at least.

#writingmodule #dragon age #mass effect #writingnodule

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sivellelavellan · 6 years

Text

Apricity: Chapter Two

Read it here or on AO3 if you’d like.

Liam Kosta x fem!Ryder

Description: The irrational emotion of the moments between the big milestones are the warmest, tinged like gentle hands on cold reddened cheeks. Apricity (n): the warmth of the sun in winter. About earning names and finding heart and maybe home in the vastness of an uncertain galaxy. These are those little, vibrant moments.

It turns out the rain was bound to return regardless of their efforts in the vault, jungle planets were lush for a reason. The clouds moved back in as the week progressed and swelled into a full-blown storm. The ceaseless downpour was enough to drive restlessness into the heads of anyone and the entire Tempest crew had taken to helping the Havarl research team from the Nexus establish outposts along the river leading away from the vault. She hadn’t even had a moment to return to the ship, feeling exhaustion beginning to settle in as much as the unpleasant constant soaking had.

With a considerable amount of arguing, and by that it really came down to a lost game of poker, Kiasa had been convinced to let Gil join them to install particle barrier generators at each of the sites. It was new tech, bits and pieces that she had found scattered all around his workbench in the engine room. While she trusted her headstrong engineer, she was wary to allow anything that had a chance of malfunctioning potentially explode on their newly befriended Angaran scientists and cause a diplomatic incident. Cora had reassured her that it would reduce the need to station a heavy amount of security to protect the stations from Kett or leftover Remnant.

She stood on the roof and squinted past the water that caught in her eyelashes at Gil climbing the thin metal rungs towards the apex of the antenna where he could attach his generator.

He flashed her a winning smile when he caught her gaze and waved the pistol she gave him, “You can stop hovering, Ryder. This is the last one. All’s gonna go smoothly.”

“I’ve seen you try to join Cora in target practice.” she said, “You holding a gun does nothing to make me feel better.”

“Well, installing these is going to make it that much less necessary for the people here to even have to partake in things like target practice.” he winked, “Security is a thing we need more of in Heleus.”

She shook her head, “You sound like Liam.”

“He’s got a good head on his shoulders, but his eyebrows betray what he’s got in his hand every time we play cards. Poor guy couldn’t hide what he was feeling if he tried.” Gil began shaving down a wire.

She looked over the researchers moving boxes and rifling through samples below, waving at Kiiran who disappeared back into the shuttle to retrieve more equipment.

“Speaking of Liam,” Gil wiggled his eyebrows, “Scuttlebutt has it something’s going on?”

She crossed her arms, “Since when did you care about gossip?”

He shrugged and began twisting two clipped wires together, “Since you decided you wanted to be friends, kiddo. I like it when you come down with coffee and casual talk. But I’m wounded. Seems Vetra’s got something on you I don’t know.”

“Vetra likes to get a rise out of Liam when she can.” she let out a relieved breath when saw him close the panel and begin making his way down, “And if there was anything ‘going on’ you’d be the first to know, Gil.”

“That’s my girl.” he grinned as he hopped down and stood by her side, “Want to do the honors?” He activated his omni-tool and offered his forearm towards her.

She reached over to press the remote activation key when a steaming red beam erupted through the curtain of rain and hit the antenna square where the generator was installed. A powerful explosion blasted both of them back in a shower of bright orange sparks and black smoke. She felt a moment of panic as her back was met with empty air, then slammed her hand on her omnitool, feeling her jump jets activate centimeters from the ground as she shot back into the air.

She ripped her rifle from her back as she hovered, seeing smoke rising and scientists running as Remnant observers converged on the outpost.

“SAM! Open a line to the Tempest camp receiver!” she pushed her scope to her eye and hit an observer advancing on a Salarian, “Guys I need backup! Remnant ambush at the closest outpost! Anyone read me?!”

Cora’s voice sailed out over the pops of gunfire from a pistol, “I’ve got you, Pathfinder. On my way with Liam, Drack, and Peebee! Five tops.”

She saw Gil’s outline out of the corner of her eye climbing back up the roof as she shut off her jets and pointed her asari sword downwards and slammed into the head of a nullifier, creating a biotic blast that caused two unseen explosions to her right.

Kiasa began sprinting after him, “Gil what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

He peeked his head over the edge of the roof when she reached the base of the maintenance ladder, “We have to get the barrier activated so that the Remnant can’t get in! No one has to leave!”

“That should be the last thing on your mind! We need to get the scientists and ourselves out of here!” she growled as she began climbing after him.

“No, Kia, this will work! I can fix it!” he fired at an assembler that had jetted up onto the roof and it tumbled backwards.

“Gil it’s not worth your life!” she leaned out from the ladder rungs and fired two imprecise shots at a Breacher attempting to chase down a mechanic making their way to the shuttle.

A roar erupted from the compound entrance and Drack came charging full speed into the courtyard kicking up a spray of muddy water, wrapping his arms around an Assembler and crushing it with ease. Peebee came running out behind him as Cora’s blue biotic aura pulsed through the smoke near the shuttle where she was trying to help load up and get off the ground. Where was Liam?

The next few moments seemed to slow into a crawl as she saw two simultaneous things occur. She whipped her head around and behind her a Breacher had its arms wide open and ready to clamp down on Gil’s head. But by the shuttle, an Observer had broken through Drack’s shields and was pummeling his front head plate with a beam of energy, leaving black singe marks on the natural armor.

“GIL!” she shrieked, breathing was like raking glass up her throat as she hoped she had given him enough of a warning to draw his pistol. She snapped a disruptor ammo clip in and took three precise shots at the back of the Observer, watching it shudder and erupt into a ball of electricity before Drack.

She turned, expecting to have to launch herself at Gil to pull the Breacher off of him when she saw Liam leap from the neighboring building’s roof. A frenzied yell erupted from his lips as he threw himself onto the bot and they went spiraling, missing the edge of the roof and hitting the ground with an explosion of flames and smoke. She didn’t realize the wordless scream had ripped from her chest before it was ringing in her ears.

A light blue sheen erupted from the antenna and enveloped the compound and the shuttle, destroying any Remnant that it came into contact with. The field was suddenly too quiet, the hum of the particle barrier replacing the sounds of gunfire and the deep thrum of active biotics.

She leapt off of the ladder, boots hitting the dirt as she took off towards the smoldering mess that marked where Liam fell. As she neared she found him on his back, dropping to her knees and tearing off sparking pieces of the Breacher from his torso. He was unconscious, raindrops pooling at the corners of his lips and beading on his forehead, but as she ripped off her gloves and hastily pressed two fingers to the crook where his jaw met his neck, she felt a choked sound escape from her mouth as she felt a steady beat beneath her fingertips.

She felt her hands reach for the deep tear in the front of his jacket, then find the zipper at his neck, trying to yank it down so she could assess the damage.

“You never can keep a shirt on and now I can’t get it off you?” she hissed.

She finally managed to open up his jacket and quickly tore through his underarmor to reveal angry burns across his chest. She yanked several medigel packs out of her hip belt and tore them open with her teeth, letting the soft-green substance ooze over the injuries. She exhaled slowly as she watched as the skin turned into the soft pink of early scar tissue and willed her hands to stop shaking. This would leave a thick, veinous marks on his chest. She cupped both sides of his face with her palms and dropped her forehead to his, wet hair forming a curtain between themselves and the compound, feeling herself dangerously close to uttering a prayer.

His eyelids fluttered and his warm brown eyes focused on her as his lips pulled into a small smile, “Oi, if you wanted to undress me this badly you could have just asked.”

She sucked in a breath, feeling her vision blur with stinging, relieved tears and crushed her lips to his. He tasted like rust and smoke, like blood and salt from her cheeks. She felt his hand tangle in her hair as he leaned into the kiss, hard. It was electricity and heat and aching everywhere. Tearing herself away, he looked shocked, her own fingertips lifting to touch her lips. She hadn’t even thought to lean in, she had just been glad to feel his breath across his cheeks. His eyes were scanning her face, as if looking for some sort of confirmation for what just happened.

She smacked his shoulder as she came to her senses and he yowled, “Liam, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

He winced, “Ryder, relax, I’m fine.”

Her eyes traveled to his limp left arm in the grass, deep purple bruising blooming across the exposed skin by his wrist, “I can almost bet you that’s broken.”

He looked sheepish, “Yeah probably.”

She felt anger flare, her ears getting hot, “I swear to God, twice in one week is absolutely unacceptable—“

His index finger brushed away a remaining tear that had settled in the corner of her eye, “Hey, hey look at me.”

She grit her teeth and met his eyes, “I’m not saying you shouldn’t have—“

His palm cupped her face and he stilled her, “Look, it’s just a bloody nose.”

She felt her lips quirk up as she wiped away the small trickle of blood that had trailed onto his upper lip with the sleeve of her underarm that was poking out beneath her armguard.

“Now that doesn’t look like nothing going on.” Gil had sauntered over with a devious expression.

“You.” Kiasa jumped to her feet and began stalking towards him, “You should be a smear on the roof. You are going to be cleaning the fucking bathrooms for the rest of your life.”

He staggered several steps back as her accusing finger came to prod him square in the chest. She saw Peebee, Cora and Drack walk up out of the corner of her eye. Peebee’s voice came from beside Liam as she began bracing his arm on a slab of Remnant metal, “Shit. Ryder’s mad.”

“That’s Pathfinder to all of you because as the idiot that ended up in change of this circus I’m responsible for all of your deaths!” she turned around and gave them all the most poisonous glare she could muster.

Gil rolled his eyes, “Can you imagine having so much faith in us that you expect us all to die?”

Cora put her hands on her hips, “It’s a lot of paperwork, I can understand wanting to avoid that.”

“At least Cora is making sense.” Kiasa backed up to address all of them, “Look I’m serious. We’re dealing with a lot but we have to be a team here. And we really haven’t been acting like one. Trust me I’m the first one to run headfirst at things—“

Liam grunted as he stood, leaning on Peebee’s shoulder with his bad arm in a makeshift sling, “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Please, Liam. Tell me more as you wave your broken arm around” she shot back.

He glared at her. Gil burst out laughing.

“I’ve made the mistake about caring about all of you because we’re the most unlikely people to come together and yet we keep trying to make it work.” she pushed her face into her hands and dragged her cheeks downward, “Because we all have the same vision and this dream that we can make this place our home. So please. Just stop trying to die.”

“Okay, okay.” Peebee walked over and put a hand on her shoulder, “Just don’t start crying or anything?”

Drack scratched his jaw with his shotgun, “I might.”

Kiasa couldn’t stop the short laugh that escaped from her lips as she gave in and Peebee gave her a short pat on the back, “Since we saved the day and Gil got the thingy he wanted installed, I think I’ll head back and try to get dry.”

“Yeah, I’ll get Drack to Lexi to have this scorch mark looked at.” Cora called as she placed a little bit of medigel on the charred scales near Drack’s eye.

“Take Liam with you.” Kiasa sighed.

“Wait, shouldn’t we—“ he protested.

“Liam, please go with Cora.” she tried not to notice the flash of hurt that crossed his expression, “We can talk once Lexi has you sorted out.”

He hesitated, then nodded and turned around and caught up with Drack who place a large hand on the top of his head and that effortless smile reappeared on his face.

“So were you serious about bathroom duty?” Gil stepped up to her side.

She looped her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder, “I don’t know Gil. I won’t force anyone to do anything. I’m not here to run a military vessel. I just want this to work.”

“I’ll do it.” he chuckled, “I earned it all on my own.”

“I’m glad you’re fine, Gil.” she said quietly, “I really thought it was you or Drack for a second.”

“I’ll take you saving Drack as trusting me to save my own ass. Appreciate the confidence.” he offered her, her pistol back and she replaced it in his holster by her hip, “But it’s a good thing Liam stepped in.”

She didn’t say anything. Just stewed in silence. She wasn’t sure what Liam was to her at this point. All the harmless flirting had spilled over into territory she wasn’t sure she was ready to embrace.

“You know he’s a good man.” Gil nudged, “And everyone’s been taking bets to see how long it would take you to notice his obvious crush. I’m going to win of course.”

“Obvious?” she looked up at him.

“You’re so dense, Kia. He adores you.” he shook his head in disbelief, “But it seems there’s something definitely more than nothing going on, on your end as well.”

“You’re just starstruck cause he saved your life.” she teased.

He smirked, “Maybe. But you kissed him first from what I saw.”

“What would I do without you pointing out the obvious, my dear engineer?” she groaned, “Why are you hell-bent on matchmaking? What about finding yourself a handsome soldier on the Nexus?”

“I get it from Jill. But do you like him?” he insisted.

“More than I think I should.” she sighed.

“Good.” he began walking towards the shell-shocked scientists that were finally beginning to disembark from the shuttle, “Let the poor man know.”

“Right.” she unhooked their arms and kissed him on the cheek, “I’ll see you back at camp.”

She sat at the bank of the river that night after dinner, glad that the rain had finally taken pause and left behind only a thick cottony layer of clouds. The moon would peek out every so often, leeching the purples and blues of the plant luminescence from their color. She was a meter or so away from a bonfire that the crew had started, Gil making a boisterous show of winning hand after hand of poker over bitter tasting tea from some native species that Suvi had deemed edible. She was wearing a ratty old T-shirt, Citadel Ramen logo faded. It didn’t smell like Scott anymore, but the little holes by the droopy collar marked every bit of his ownership on the item of clothing.

A loud growl of Jaal’s name from Drack suggested a particularly grievous loss and she saw Peebee throw some illegally acquired popcorn from her foil holder at Lexi. They were dysfunctional, undoubtedly. But they were her kind of dysfunctional.

She felt a hand in her hair and a warmth rose within her as she looked up and saw Liam smiling gently at her. The Initiative crewneck he donned looked brand new, almost too white in the dark. She noted with affection that his lack of upper body clothing was serial enough that she doubted he had any shirts that were as well-loved as Scott’s. He was holding two steaming metal cups and he passed one to her. She was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t the strange, purple tea that Jaal had offered her earlier but something rich, dark, and sweet-smelling.

“How much did you have to pay Vetra for this?” she breathed in the comforting scent of chocolate.

“I’m taking her kitchen cleaning shifts for the next month.” he took a sip and sighed contentedly, “Worth it. Hot cocoa makes everything hurt less.”

She enjoyed how the warmth seeped into her icy hands, “Not body-slamming enemies would also reduce the amount of pain.”

“I even brought you a peace offering!” he replied, feigning offense, “Mum’s magic doesn’t even work on you.”

She smirked and looked up at him as she took a sip, “I’m stubborn. You might have to sing too.”

“I’m still putting together your playlist.” he said, “Tell you what, you pick a song you like the best off it and I’ll give it my best shot.”

“This playlist is getting a lot of hype.” she gave him a sidelong glance, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Starchaser…” he slowly sat down on the bank beside her, “Be real, are you still mad at me?”

She shook her head and he seemed to relax, “How’s the arm?”

“Dr. T’Perro thinks it’ll heal within two weeks if I make sure to not overuse it and show up for my injections like I should.” he looked down at the sling, “I hate needles.”

She giggled, “Somehow I’m not surprised.”

He offered his cup forward and she clinked the rim of hers against it, the pleasant metallic sound lingering in the air. They lapsed into comfortable silence as they drained their cups. She noticed he was rubbing his thumb and index finger together at his side as he stared out towards the gently flowing water.

“Do you always play with your hands when you’re thinking?” she asked.

“More like when I’m nervous.” he flushed and dropped his eyes to his lap.

She scooted closer, knocking her knee against his, “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

He turned and their eyes locked, “But not for kissing me?”

She felt her cheeks get hot, “Um, no? Should I be? I mean I don’t know what this even—”

He let out a relieved laugh and what seemed to be a held breath, laying down on his back in the riverweed as he rested his cup on his stomach, “Don’t get me wrong, I know stuff like this happens. Close quarters mean closer encounters. But I’d be a little sad if you thought it was a mistake.”

“Maybe it was.” she looked over at him, his hand behind his head, elbow sticking out, seeming effortlessly carefree, “Not because it was bad or that I didn’t want to— but because there’s so much going on. There’s so much stuff we still have to accomplish and I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Whoa, slow down.” he motioned with a tilt of his head for her to lean back and join him, “I don’t need you to hold my hand and tell me you want to go steady. I just like knowing where I stand.”

She set her empty cup down laid down on her side almost tucked in against him, “No bullshit. I like you. But I barely know you?” He was looking at the sky and she noticed it had been a little while since he shaved, stubble darker over the straight line of his jaw than it usually was.

“Sometimes when two people meet it fits. I don’t believe in fate or anything. Odds are there’s so few of us we were bound to cross paths at some point.” he turned his head and his gaze was soft, “With you, it fits.”

“Your romantic is showing, Liam.” their noses were almost touching.

His silent laugh brushed in a warm exhale over her lips, “Theres no one I’d rather have been thrown out a shuttle with.”

She wanted to kiss him, there was something so magnetic about being this close. He would taste sweet. Like chocolate and easy praises. But she was also content to lay there beside him, “Hah. I could have done without the life-threatening encounters.”

“You’d be bored otherwise.” his eyes settled on her lips and she almost let him lean in.

She quickly sat up and she heard him exhale in a little disappointed sigh, “I’m going to be hard to convince on this whole more-than-casual-flirting thing.”

He shook his head and chuckled as he sat up and tossed his cup aside as well, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kiasa motioned for him to look as she inched closer to the water, “Look what I discovered earlier, though.”

She dipped her fingertips into the water and it pulsed with a white-blue light in the wake of her touch. The bioluminescent bacteria in the water grew more intense with disturbance and left light trails that held a hidden kind of beauty that she had been delighted to discover. She traced out her name, water cool on her skin and let it fade back into a muted pulsing ebb of the current.

“Oh wow.” Liam sounded excited as he crouched beside her

She laughed as he drew a happy face and then a poorly defined star on the surface, “I just noticed it when I was wading in the shallows trying to pick up one of the glowing river stones.”

He tiled his head quizzically, “That’s why you disappeared after dinner?”

She shrugged, “I collect little things on the planets we visit to bring back to Scott.”

He was doing it again— that intense, depthless look he gave her that she couldn’t understand. She blinked and it was gone, but for a moment there was an intimacy she couldn’t ignore.

“Does it get stronger the more you fuss with the water?” a mischievous glint had settled in his eye.

“I have no idea.” she said.

He grinned, “One way to find out!”

He charged into the river as she let out a surprised laugh. She heard the bickering of the crew around the bonfire had stop as Liam cupped his hands into the water and threw it into the air, blight, glowing droplets raining like white-hot embers around him. She felt her chest almost ache at the unbridled joy in his face as he called for her to join him, scattering beads of light in arcs away from him. Kiasa snorted and splashed into the river, almost tripping on the soft bottom but feeling him reach out an arm for her to grab and steady herself. There were little glowing droplets in his hair and on his cheeks, looking like liquid moonlight. She slapped the surface and sent a spray of water at him which he shouted at, retaliating until they were soaking wet and in a splash war.

“I could go for a swim!” a deep rumbling voice cut through their laughter and she froze as she felt the ground shake as she turned to her right to see Drack also charging into the river with Peebee swinging off one of his back plates.

“Shit.” she heard Liam say before a massive wave came barreling at them. She barely had time to dive into it before she felt herself tossed around. She surfaced gasping and found Liam making his way back to her, winding his arm around her waist below the surface. They looked at each other and then started laughing, deep full bodied sounds filled the air as the rest of the crew onshore waded in as well. It felt freeing to be able to just let go, letting the lightheartedness erase all the responsibility and anxiety that had followed them since first docking on the Nexus. Peebee was now sitting on Drack’s shoulders as she used her biotics to drench Cora and Gil. Vetra was only standing ankle deep but was smiling as she kicked her legs around and watched the trails of light that she created.

“Why won’t you call me, Kiasa?” she mused, resting her chin on his chest and looking up expectantly.

He paused, looking unsure, “I dunno. I guess I’m used to call-signs? My squad in HUS-T1 just fell into nicknames, it was easier to recognize over the noise of firefights. Unique. Ours.”

“What was yours?” she asked.

“Only the coolest” he looked embarrassed, “My turian mate came up with it.”

“That bad huh?” she teased.

He closed his eyes and mumbled, “Sharky.”

She almost choked trying to hold back a laugh, “Oh, that’s perfect.”

“It’s cause I prefer double omni blades!” he groaned, “They’re like jaws!”

“Very intimidating, Sharky.” she laughed when he placed both hands on the side of her face and he squeezed her cheeks in frustration.

She saw Jaal still standing by the bonfire from behind him, the deep orange flames casting soft shadows on his face. But she could see the wide smile that he wore and she quickly tapped Liam on the chest, “Look over at Jaal.”

Liam’s face lit up and he beamed, “See this is what I came out here for. That expression is what makes all this struggling and diplomacy worth it.”

She yelped as he tightened his hold on her waist and lifted her partially out of the water, whooping as he spun her around. She perched her hands on his shoulders and really took in the way the glowing made the moment feel surreal but more grounded than anything she had yet experienced in Andromeda. All she really could see was him, the familiar freckles on the bridge of his nose, the slightly lopsided way he showed his teeth when he grinned.

“It’s the little victories, Starchaser.” he set her down and pressed a light kiss to her temple, “We’re on his homeworld and he doesn’t see us quite so much like outsiders.”

They both hadn’t notice Jaal approach and Liam jumped a little when he spoke from next to them, “No, in fact you look like my good friends.” He then charged upstream with ease and tackled an unsuspecting Cora who shrieked as she crashed under the surface.

Peebee’s voice sailed out, “Hey Kosta, Ryder! Get a dang room already!”

She stuck her tongue out at Peebee who graciously flipped them both off as she slipped off Drack’s back and into the water with a glowing splash.

“We’ll shape up to be a crew worthy of you” he chuckled as he rested his chin on the top of her head, “I know it.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer to him, “You guys already are. Just a little dangerously reckless.”

He leaned back and made eye contact, “We’ll take this a day at a time, yeah?”

She nodded, “Yeah. Okay.”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, Vetra needs a soaking.” he winked and started shoving towards the others.

She chased after him, just happy to finally be cutting loose with her band of misfits “It’s your head, Kosta!”

#rydam #liam kosta #liam x ryder #femryder #mass effect andromeda #kiasa ryder #starchaser

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ramblinganthropologist · 5 years

Text

At the end of an email

This was 100% inspired by a fantastic cover of CYaRon’s P.S no Mukougawa (on the other side of a poscript) by @the9mermaids. They’re probably my favorite Aqours cover group, so you should go listen to them once you’re done. Heck, I’ll pop the link in because the video is really well done.

Anyway...

Summary: Far away, they’re far away... only Alistair Shepard and Garrus Vakarian can’t exactly drink the same tea. Still, they have their memories, and their emails, to tide them over until that little chance that they might meet again. Only this is 2185, we’re a little past postcards... emails still count, right? Right?

---

There was something about house arrest that could make a man downright antsy.

“Loco, you look like you're about ready to climb the wall.”

So good of him to fucking notice.

Alistair Shepard shot his impromptu body guard a blank look – James Vega twitched, good. He wasn't used to it yet, even after three months. “I can't imagine why.”

No, not when he was stuck in an apartment when he wasn't being grilled by multiple military tribunals while the world was ready to come down around their shoulders. Why would that make him anxious, especially when his anxiety meds were running low?

Ok... that last one he could have probably controlled, but for some reason the Alliance was really up his ass about how many he took. In his defense, he had been kind of dead the last two years.

Outside the window, it was a lovely day from what he could see. Of course, he couldn't so much as open a window to check without someone being figuratively up his ass about it. He had long since learned the rules over the last agonizing handful of months, but it still rankled at him whenever he felt the other man's eyes on the back of his now exposed neck.

Up above, James snorted. “At least you don't have to go see the tribunal again this week.”

It was a small miracle. Alistair was getting tired of telling the same damn story to people who weren't listening. Of course, he was probably lucky to be telling it at all. Most people in his position tended to wind up in solitary, or worse. It was the only benefit that came from getting through the Omega 4 Relay alive, or at least that's what he told himself on the better days. On the worst, when his mind wandered and his skin crawled, it was a curse like no other.

Ah, the duality of man.

He drummed his fingers on the counter top, staring down at his hobbled omni-tool. “Hey... can I send an email to Garrus?”

Most people probably would've shut him down immediately, and with good reason. After all, house arrest meant limited contact. Lucky for him, James wasn't most people. He often had a look in his eye that made Alistair think he understood the feeling on a personal level. Of course... he wasn't quite sure what that feeling was. You think over three months of sitting on his ass he would have it on lock, but life was funny that way.

Was interacting with turians supposed to be this hard?

James thought about it for a few seconds before rolling his shoulders – that was a nasty crack, someone was getting bored sitting around too. “Why, you want to sext him or something?”

Color leaked into Alistair's cheeks . “I just wanted to get an update on Palaven is all!”

The large man let out a booming laugh, practically shaking the small room they were holed up in. “Whatever you say, loco. Just don't make it too dirty; I really don't need to know what kind of kinky sex you get down with when it comes to turians.”

They didn't get down to any sex, kinky or otherwise, thank you very much.

Alistair's blush didn't die down until he was seated in front of his keyboard, a blank and highly monitored email screen flashing in front of him. So many possibilities of what to say to Garrus... how did he even begin?

Hey Garrus,

Hope you're doing ok on Palaven. I'm still on house arrest.

Poetry in motion.

He let out a low groan and placed his head on the desk in front of him. “Shit.”

His mind had gone absolutely blank. Anything he could think to write was just so... pointless in the wake of what was going on. Of course Garrus wasn't doing ok – they were on the eve of the Reapers dropping down on their goddamn asses! Why would he even think to write that?

Why was this so hard anyway? It wasn't like it was the first time they were talking. They had done plenty of that back on the Normandy, both SR-1 and 2. In fact, they had gotten... rather close... before they had plunged into the heart of the Omega 4 relay. He didn't exactly want to call it intimacy, but... what they had should have made this so much easier.

Maybe he was just bad at writing?

“Fuck.” He ran a hand over the back of his head, catching the short hairs as he stared at his screen. His fingers didn't want to write right then, but James was waiting for him to figure something out in the next room. At least the man had the decency to go somewhere else when he was spying on the ex-commander.

How polite.

Alistair shook his head and leaned back in his chair to stare up at the ceiling.. Honestly, he didn't even know if Garrus would get the email, much less read it. A sick feeling sunk into his gut of the thought he might just ignore it. After all, there was plenty to do...

And plenty of people to do it with. After all, the turian wasn't the one on house arrest.

Now, he wasn't an insecure person. While his self confidence wasn't the greatest, he knew he had at least some strange charm that had pulled the turian in. The fact still remained he was human, and there were plenty of attractive turians of any gender on Palaven to keep Garrus busy should he need to... scratch an itch. War time efforts tended to bring people together too. Any of that could have been happening while he was stuck in fucking Canada of all places, staring at a screen instead of doing something.

“Damn it, it's not like you said you were exclusive or anything. Don't worry about it.” It didn't help, and Alistair knew it wouldn't. Still, he tried as he stood up to back away from the keyboard for a brief break. He didn't want to, but a beeping on his wrist was letting him know he needed something to eat or he'd bottom out. “Shit, I'm not even using my biotics either.”

Stressing over his love life must have consumed a lot of sugar...

He found himself in the small kitchen, staring at a can of... something. It was one of those dual brands that had varieties in both levo and dextro in order to capture both halves of the market. He recognized the can – it was hard not to, after all. He had seen its dextro variety clasped in Garrus' talons so many times.

“You can stop fucking with me, universe.” He let out a dejected sigh and poured some down his throat, grimacing at the taste. Something about crossing the needs of both species left little for taste. “Gross... how the hell does he drink this?”

Maybe turians couldn't taste...

Alistair sighed again as he put the can down and stared out the small window on the other side of the apartment. For a brief moment, he swore he could see the star that would've been Palaven's sun. But that was ridiculous – there was too much distance between their planets and systems to even have a chance. Hell, he wasn't even sure he was looking in the right direction. But something about it was oddly comforting as he let his mind wander.

He missed Garrus; he really did.

“Hope you're doing ok out there.”

Alistair muttered that under his breath as he took another sip of the distasteful can. It was the only thing he had right then to connect him to the turian. With how things were going, he didn't know if he would ever be back in the sky . The chances were slim that he would ever see the turian again.

But the hope was there... very small, very dim, but it kept beating.

“Yo, loco, you writing that email or what?”

James' voice boomed out from his hiding spot, knocking Alistair from his reverie. The biotic scowled and took his snack back to where his letter was waiting for him. At least now he had an idea of what to write as he sat back down, putting the can to the side.

Hooray for annoying roommates being amazing writing material.

---

How's the tribunal going? I saw you in one they br-

No. He didn't want to write about that.

Garrus felt his mandibles twitch in annoyance as he delete the line he had been working on. He had been doing that for the last half hour – by then he had enough deleted lines to write a few letters, maybe an entire book the way he was going.

It wasn't his fault – the damn thing just sounded so awkward when he tried to get his thoughts down.

Really, he had a million other things he could have been doing. Ever since the hierarchy had given him a task force to work with for the Reapers, his days had been busy to say the least. It was a miracle he had a chance to sit down and rest at all. Even when he could have, his mind was running a million miles a minute trying to think of what to do next. Of course, that all stopped the moment he was faced with a blank email screen addressed to his...

Well... he didn't really know what to call Shepard. Alistair. Shit..

He rubbed his scarred mandible while he scanned what little he had written. There wasn't much left after his edits, and what was there was... paltry, to say the least. All he had managed were a few bland pleasantries and a basic inquiry: how are you?

“Clearly he's not doing well if he's on house arrest.”

Garrus shook his head and deleted the whole thing. Back to the drawing board again. The blank page and blinking cursor did nothing to inspire him. In fact, his brain was spinning in circles now, as if to spite him.

Was he even going to get to read it? The turian wasn't really sure how humans handled that kind of arrest. As far as he knew, Alistair was in solitary confinement except for when he was dragged out to answer questions. He was no psychologist, but even he knew that wasn't... great, especially for the social species.

It was kind of an exercise in futility, he realized, trying to write an email. But yet he was trying anyway because he was a fucking idiot like that.

“Get it together, Vakarian.” he hissed the words under his breath, mandibles twitching. He knew he was being stupid, but he couldn't stop himself. Just thinking about the human back on Earth did awful things to his stomach and mind. Dare he say it? He missed the man.

It had been easier when he was dead – at least then he didn't have to wonder if he would ever see him again.

Still... his fingers started to work again, talons clicking as he followed his train of thought. I hope you're doing ok back on Earth. I know it's not easy, but I think you did the right thing by going back to the Alliance.

Empty words maybe, but they spoke volumes about how he felt. Garrus found himself falling into a groove as he continued to write, words and paragraphs constructing themselves under his fingers to be shot across the vast expanse of space to some weird ass place on earth called Canada. It sounded downright boring to him, but what did he know? According to most humans, being a seven foot tall space raptor (whatever that was) was scary enough.

And yet... Alistair liked him anyway.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

A sudden voice caused the turian to rocket up in his seat, fingers hitting the keys hard. He wheeled around hard, carapace groaning from the effort. The turian standing there just so happened to be his younger sister, giving him a look as she watched him panic. When had Solana gotten there anyway?

Garrus had grown too used to being around humans – his subvocals gave him away the moment he let them off. It was downright brutal watching the younger turian's reaction. She was... not going to let him live this down.

“Is this about that human you're doing? Herder or something?”

Garrus shot her a blank look as he made sure to minimize his email program – she was too good at reading over his shoulder. “His name is Shepard, and I was just...”

Just checking up on someone on house arrest for treason against the Alliance? There was no way in hell she was going to believe that.

Solana was practically bouncing on her heels as she put the details together. “Writing a love letter to your boyfriend?”

“No!”

Humans said turians laughed like chickens. While he didn't know what the hell that was, maybe he could imagine it as she chuckled at him. He hoped a chicken was something foul and annoying, because then they would've matched perfectly.

“You can't lie for shit, Garrus!” Her laughter only increased. “You're like a love struck cadet!”

His mandibles fluttered in embarrassment as he turned back to his keyboard. “I'm just checking in. He's the best person to discuss the Reapers with.”

“Uh-huh. Because you act like this every time you write somebody from the Reaper squad.” She patted his carapace with a too friendly gesture – when had Solana become such a little shit? “Whatever you say. Just don't get too explicit. Don't want those censors on earth getting an eyeful of what you two do together when nobody's looking. Might scare them for life.”

She left, still chuckling and leaving her older brother wishing he had been an only child growing up. Garrus scowled once he was alone, waiting until it was safe to return to his work. When he no longer heard her footsteps, he flicked the screen back on.

Shit. That was a lot of typos.

“Thanks, Solana...” scorn filled his voice as he set to correcting them. It ate up some of his precious time, but in the end there was only one left. In the midst of his flailing, he had hit a few keys at the end of his name.

Garrus <3

Now, Garrus didn't know a whole lot about human culture – it wasn't like he had a human fetish, thank you very much. But he at least knew a few things, and one of them was the symbols they used to represent... things. Concepts. Vague ideas?

Ok, he wasn't an xenopologist or anything; his job was to calibrate and shoot things from far away.

Regardless, he knew that one and what it meant, and the thought of it made his face feel hot and mandibles flap. Hearts, hearts he knew. And he knew what would happen if he didn't delete it – some asshole would get a good laugh out of what they thought was something mushy.

But... maybe Alistair would appreciate it if he ever got to see it.

...

With a click, off the email went with a chunk of Garrus' dignity. He shook his head as he stood up from his desk and walked to the window. Outside, it was as busy as ever on Palaven. After so many months away from his home planet, something still felt odd about it. Maybe it always would? Again philosophy and that sort of thing wasn't really his area of expertise.

Still, if he squinted he could just maybe see the mass relay that would connect his system to Earth's. It was a flight of fancy, nothing more, but it was something that made his insides flutter. Somewhere up there was there way to a human he was missing very badly.

Maybe when everything was over, he could go through it and pull the commander out of whatever funk he was sitting in.

“Yeah, right.”

Garrus tore his thoughts away – his omni-tool was beeping incessantly now for something task force related. It was back to work. Still, his thoughts lingered as he walked back into his duties – it may have been a tiny chance, but that was better than nothing.

But first... Reapers. Those he could apply his skill set to perfectly.

---

“Are you sure about this, Shepard?”

“Not like I can go back now, Garrus. We definitely pinged something when we docked.”

The Citadel was a busy place, and the docks were no different. Ships and people alike were in a constant hum of activity, trying to get where they were going. This was a small blessing; nobody noticed the two standing by a shuttle, the main ship definitely under harsh scrutiny at the moment.

Alistair brushed hair from his face that had escaped his ponytail. He was smiling, but he didn't feel it inside. “I'll be ok, Garrus. You know me.”

The turian didn't look convinced as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You know what they're going to charge you with. We need you against the Reapers.”

Yes, especially after what they had been through. The Normandy still bore the scorch marks that came from taking the fight straight to the Collectors and coming back in more or less one piece. It had been a billion to one shot, but they had been the one. Now came the consequences of their actions, and some of them weren't so pleasant.

It wasn't as if Alistair wanted to turn himself into the Alliance, especially with the threat of the Reapers. If he was lucky, they would toss him in solitary until he rot. Less lucky... well, he probably wouldn't be reviving a second time. The thought of just taking off and staying outside their jurisdiction had been a tempting one, especially with his Spectre status.

But he couldn't. Damn it if he wasn't a boy scout to the end.

So all he could really do was smile as he watched the turian in front of him. “Guess you'll be heading back to Palaven once we're through here?”

“Already have a ticket for the next shuttle.” Garrus didn't sound too happy about that. “Somebody has to make them listen about the Reapers.”

If anyone could, it would be him – Alistair knew it in his gut. He would make the hierarchy listen. And with them against the Reapers, maybe they had half a chance in hell. Of course... he should probably do the same with the Alliance, but that was less likely after what he had pulled off.

Yeah... this probably wasn't one of his better plans, but it felt like the right thing to do. Hopefully his gut wasn't turning him wrong.

Their time was growing short, however. Garrus had a shuttle to catch, and Alistair had a short walk to a long headache. There were too many things to say in such a short period, and silence was quickly eating up what was left.

“Shep-”

“Garrus-”

Both stopped the moment they had heard the other speak. Laughter bubbled up at the same time as the two shared a rather hearty chuckle at their own expense. In the large space of the dock, open air gobbled it up. But they had known it had been there, just for a brief moment anyway.

Alistair smiled for real now as he nodded to the turian. “Be safe out there. I'll try to write if they don't throw me in the hole immediately.”

“I'll do the same... minus the whole prison thing.” Garrus' mandibles flapped in that way they did when he was amused. “Don't break out of jail until at least a week, ok?”

The Spectre rolled his eyes playfully as he nudged his... it was complicated... in the side. “Me, break out? You have to be thinking of somebody else.”

Another chuckle, but it was time to depart. Garrus and Alistair faced each other one last time, still smiling in their own ways. The brief warmth of each other's touch would have to be enough to get them through whatever came next.

“Well-” Alistair leaned up on tip toe to peck the scarred mandible. “Here goes-”

---

“Man, that looks uncomfortable.”

Alistair snapped from his reverie. It took him a few seconds to realize why the world was upside down, and it came with a literal crash as he hit the ground, groaning. Apparently, spacing out when hanging off the couch was a bad idea.

Up above, James was giving him that look he did when he thought he had earned his nickname and then some. “That some kind of biotic break out technique?”

Joints popped as he stood, shaking out the headache. “Yeah, all the blood goes to your head and powers the amp up. A few more seconds and I could've phased through the wall.”

Luckily for the universe at large, he didn't think well that way. House arrest would continue on. Still, as he rubbed the back of his neck and tried to focus, the memory lingered. Even thinking about it made him want to smile.

Had it really been that long ago?

The large man currently playing his babysitter nodded towards the counter. A slight smirk played at his lips as he spoke. “You got an email, loco.”

Blood rush or not, Alistair beat a quick path to the computer. Just like James had said, there was an email from far past the cluster. A smile set across his face as he sat down to read it. For a brief moment, Garrus would be there.

Until they met again, that would have to be enough. The emails and the memories would sustain him through countless headache-inducing interrogation sessions and long nights. And with any luck, one day they would speak again.

Now... just what the hell was in there that made James smirk so much?

#shakarian #Shepard x Garrus #Garrus x m!shep #Alistair Shepard #With my love of idol music thrown in #ramblinganthropologist's writing

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theoriginalladya · 3 years

Text

Rhys Shepard & WIP Wednesday

So I recently commissioned the incredibly talented @xla-hainex for a picture of Rhys Shepard and Kaidan...

Her work just leaves me breathless, I swear! (thank you so much!!!!!) One of the things I love about this is, without me saying anything about it, she chose Eden Prime as the background - and it’s PERFECTION! So, since it is Wednesday as well, have a bit of Rhys and Kaidan’s reunion on Eden Prime. :)

~~~

Eden Prime, 2183

... Sara walks over from the right side and nudges Rhys’ arms. “Hey, Doc? Look at the beacon. What’s it doing?”

Pulling his attention from the damaged spaceport, Rhys turns to find the barest hint of glowing energy pulsing off of the artifact. “What the hell?” He nudges Kaidan with his elbow before taking a few steps in its direction.

“It wasn’t doing that before!” Williams exclaims.

“Maybe the Geth triggered it somehow?” Sara suggests. “I mean, we found them down here, right?”

Kaidan follows Rhys closer to the beacon. “Any idea what it’s doing?”

“Not a clue.” Frowning in concentration, Rhys half turns back in the direction from which they arrived, pauses, then faces the beacon again. “Williams is right – it wasn’t doing anything like this when we dug it up. Something must have happened either during transport or once it was left here.”

Kaidan eyes it from top to bottom warily. “Do you think we can transport it safely like this?”

Rhys considers the question as he gives the thing a wide berth. “I honestly don’t know,” he admits after a minute. He stops on the other side of the beacon, peers down at the lower portion, and searches for some sort of switch. He was not part of the actual team that uncovered it, and has only seen it up close once before it was fully removed from the ground. His purpose this time around is to interpret the few inscriptions found around the location and determine what they could possibly mean. “Not seeing any obvious way to turn it on or off.”

“What about this over here?” Kaidan asks, approaching the beacon from the front and gesturing at its base. “Is this some sort of language?”

“Yeah, they have – had – me working on that before all this started.” Rhys glances over to find him pointing at the very base of the device. But now, with whatever energy is running through it, there are actually more words than before. “Well, that’s new.” A rush of excitement rolls through him and takes a look from a new angle. Lifting his omni-tool, he taps a button to pull up his notes …

Before they even open, however, and before he can do anything to react, the energy field emanating from the beacon expands, almost like a bubble, and traps him in it. It catches Rhys so off guard, he can only yelp as he is pulled inside of the field, leaving him unable to move on his own.

He hears Kaidan shout his name, and in the background Sara shouting, “Doc!” followed by Williams, but he cannot make out what the Chief says. Whatever this field is, it has him trapped well and good, and he can barely even draw in a breath.

Strong hands catch him by the arm and tug, hard, so hard it feels almost like his shoulder is about to come out of its socket, but the field keeps hold, unrelenting. The hands do not let go, and in the next moment, instead of reassurances or words of encouragement, all Rhys hears from Kaidan is a similar yelp as it mixes with a loud gasp. Less than a second later, it doesn’t matter anymore - the field jerks him off of his feet and up into the air …

With the speed of a ship at FTL, a series of images burn across his brain … they flash by so quickly, it is impossible to identify them all. The most he can make out are ships, death, and destruction, and some sort of machine which pushes his limits of believability. Pain, unlike any he has ever experienced before with his migraines or otherwise, slices through his head. It feels like the thoughts - memories maybe? - are being shoved inside his brain, one on top of another on top of another, whether he wants them there or not. The pain grows and expands, to a point where there is no reasonable way he can keep control over it anymore, not that he had much to begin with. A voice cries out – his own, he thinks – and in the next moment, nothing but blessed darkness wraps around him …

#Rhys Shepard #mshenko #male shepard x kaidan alenko #xla-hainex #fabulous art #Eden Prime #Cowboy Shepard #OTP: People Like Us #I am so amazed by this I cannot even put it into words!!!!!#snippet #WIP Wednesday

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ziskandra · 7 years

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PRIORITY OPS: REPOPULATING HELEUS (Ch. 8)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 in which an anniversary is celebrated and sara comes to a resolution. ao3 link.

8. No Place Like It

Eos might not be as warm as Elaaden, but the weather would never approach what Liam might consider temperate. The population in Prodromos had trebled since its initial settlement, and the prefabs were fit to bursting. Temporary shelters had to be constructed, rings of tents surrounding the outpost proper.

Prodromos’s popularity was unsurprising, to say the least. It was one of the most hospitable of the worlds the Initiative had set roots on so far, in terms of both weather and safety. After their rocky start in Heleus, people, of all races, gravitated towards stability.

Liam was in his element. This was, after all, what he had come here to do. It felt good and right to finally be making some sort of measurable difference. He only wished that Sara could be here with him. He missed the feel of her hand within his own and mornings waking up next to her were beginning to feel like a distant memory.

They would be reunited soon, but not soon enough. He was being selfish, he knew, but it was simple, really. He missed her.

He was on his break, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his brow as he hunkered down underneath one of the sporadic trees littering the landscape to flick through the messages on his omnitool. The ‘tool worked well enough for instant communication with anyone in Prodromos or any of the other burgeoning Eos settlements, but it couldn’t exactly traverse the galaxy yet. It was a shame, because all he really wanted to be able to do while he had his lunch was talk to Sara.

Shit. He really was making a fool of himself, wasn’t he? It was nice to have a moment to himself nonetheless, the chatter of people working together and shuttles coming and going fading into the distance as he checked the messages he could read without a physical terminal.

Scott: Liam! Sending this now even though it won’t come through til we’re in range. Looking forward to making a new start in Prodromos. Gil’s coming with me today. Finally going to meet his friend Jill. Heard she doesn’t have long to go now ’til she pops. I’m a bit nervous, actually! Shh, don’t tell anyone.

Thanks again for everything you’ve done for me. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me in the future, I hope you won’t regret it.

Hahaha, of course you won’t. I’m delightful.

Liam smiled to himself, his fingers almost tapping out a message in response before he glanced over at the landing pad which he could barely make out in the distance. There was a shuttle landing now, and it could be the one Scott and Gil were riding in on or it might be coming a bit later. Either way, if Scott’s message had made its way onto Liam’s omnitool, the pair couldn’t be too far away now. He could save his thanks for later.

Scott might think himself indebted to Liam, but if you asked him, it was the other way around, really. Not only had Scott been an excellent source of support in his own right, always popping up when one needed him without even having to be asked, having some of Sara’s family around seemed to make her more comfortable, more at peace with their current situation.

Not for the first time, he felt a pang of guilt for drawing Scott away from Meridian. But that was an issue to be addressed later. And it would be: he had a whole list of things he was working on improving. It was just who he was. Lately, the list was largely taken up with attending to Sara’s happiness.

But that was just who he was, as well.

Having Scott around also meant having more insight into who Sara had been before Heleus, before Andromeda, before the Initiative, a subject that Sara herself was resolutely tight-lipped about. Not because she didn’t like talking about her past, she’d assured Liam during one too-tense moment where her walls had been drawn higher than intended, but because she just couldn’t afford herself the luxury of dwelling upon it.

(You’re more than just the Pathfinder to me, Liam had assured her, and Sara had looked at him with tired, exhausted eyes. Yeah, to you. God, that must have been months ago.)

Earlier in the month, before Liam had left for his current round of work in Prodromos, Scott had, over drinks, let slip the date of his upcoming birthday, and by extension, Sara’s. Ever since, Liam’s gears had been turning in his head. He knew what he had to do. A party. He was going to throw her a party. And since he’d always been terrible at getting people physical presents, he’d decided what he’d do instead was to get all of their friends to come. Now, it was simply a matter of awaiting people's RSVPs, but he wouldn’t be able to that until he was back at his terminal. He wasn’t anticipating any more messages from the local guests; most of them, he’d extended an invitation to in person.

But he was getting ahead of himself again. There was still plenty of time to plan the party. No, what he wanted, needed, to do was put his finishing touches on tonight’s plans. Sara would be here by the time he knocked off, and he wasn’t sure if she remembered it, but today marked a year to the day that they’d taken their leap together, over the outskirts of Prodromos, and Liam had launched himself headfirst into the reality of what it meant to be to love Sara Ryder. Had finally struck up the courage to admit the words to her.

Today seemed as good a day as any to celebrate their anniversary.

His break would be over soon. Before returning to work, he pulled up one of his favourite images on his omni-tool. It was of Sara, of course, a still from one of the multitude of interviews she’d done after the battle. This one had delved into more intimate subject matter than the others, and when Sara had been asked about whether she had a special someone, she’d scoffed at first. After all, she’d kissed Liam right on the livestream. It wasn’t like they’d been discreet.

Then she’d looked up at the camera and smiled one of her bashful smiles. I do, she’d confirmed, and I couldn’t have done any of this without him. He still remembered how he’d felt the first time he’d seen the video. Yeah, sure, it hadn’t been anything he hadn’t heard before. Sara had always assured him of how instrumental he was to her well-being, even when he doubted it himself. Especially when he doubted himself. But it was one thing to be told directly, and another entirely to have the sentiment expressed to the entire galaxy.

Whenever he looked at the picture, he was reminded of how much they meant to each other. Some days, more than others, he needed the reminder.

Sometimes, he just wanted to see her smile.

Soon enough, he’d be able to see it in person.

***

Liam was a bundle of nervous energy as he hovered around the landing zone. He’d never been very good at waiting, all things considered, and his impatience was getting the better of him. There wasn’t anything he could do to make Sara’s shuttle arrive any faster, and it was frustrating as hell. He tried to distract himself with thoughts of the evening ahead, mind running over the plans he’d made, but that didn’t help any. What if she didn’t like it? What if she thought it was stupid?

He wasn’t aware of how much he was pacing, and how little attention he was paying to his surroundings, until he was startled out of his reverie by a hand at his shoulder. He whirled on the spot to identify the source of contact. When he did, he almost leapt out of his skin with elation.

Sara. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest in a crushing hug, hands mapping her back like he couldn’t believe she was real. Once he realised just how how tightly he was holding her, he half-expected her to squirm out of his grip. Instead, she merely rested her hands on his waist, his shirt thin enough her fingertips felt like hot pricks of heat against his skin. It had only been a number of weeks since they’d last been together, but it had still been too long. He rested his chin atop her head, breathed her in. “Surprise,” she whispered into their embrace, the warmth of her breath skirting against his throat. He could feel his hands grow clammy, his heart beating erratically in his chest. It was incredible, honestly, that she still made him feel this way after they’d been dating for this long. Part of him hoped she still made him feel like this for the rest of their life, but he’d take what he could get. “I managed to catch an earlier shuttle,” she told him, still clutching onto his shirt like her life depended on it. “Flew in with Gil and Scott, actually, and thought I’d take the time to see what Prodromos has been up to since I was here last. And I know it’s not as exciting as whatever you've got planned, but I thought I might try and sneak up on you.” Liam snorted. “Because you’re so boring and predictable the rest of the time.”

Sara laughed in response, finally breaking away from Liam’s hold and shoving her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket. No armour. It was strange but nice to see her this way away from Meridian. They’d worked hard on making Prodromos safe and liveable. It was good to start seeing results. “Honestly? It feels that way, sometimes. Meetings upon meetings upon meetings and attempts on my life have been few and far between. Haven’t even died once since we secured Meridian and I’m getting a bit bored. Would be nice to have the opportunity to jump off something tall again but…” she trailed off, pulling a face. “…when I spoke to Mayor Bradley earlier he warned me off any future mating flights. Mating flights, ugh. We weren’t that bad, were we?” He felt his face heat up at the question, more than able to recall the events of that day in perfect detail. While it was stupid to have worried that Sara might’ve forgotten, he was glad to hear she cherished it all the same. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially towards her, “I think we might’ve kissed in the sand.” Colour rose high in Sara’s cheeks. Did she used to get embarrassed this easily? She didn’t back down, however, instead folding her hands across her chest, Liam’s gaze following the movement a little more closely than it should. “Yeah, just a bit,” she teased. “Okay,” Liam conceded, “maybe there was some heavy petting.” Sara scoffed before reaching out to grasp Liam by the wrist. “And more, if I’d let you have your way. God, that was ages ago. I can’t believe it’s been that long since I was here last.” “You’ve never been back?” “Nope. A year, on the dot.” She glanced up slyly at him. “Happy anniversary, I guess? I assumed that’s what this was all about.” Liam’s disappointment must have been evident on his features because Sara immediately moved her hands to his shoulders in a gesture of comfort. “Hey, hey, I’m glad someone remembered to count forward. I only figured it out by looking back.” She blanched a little, possibly uncomfortable with the self-disclosure that had occurred even in the short, simple observation. Slipping her hand down his arm, towards his elbow, she gave it a light tug. “I can’t wait to see where we’re going. Come on!” Liam stumbled after Sara, boots dragging in the sand as he hastily rearranging their arms so they were interlocked and he could properly lead. “Well, it’s not got quite the amount of adrenaline-pumping action you’re after, but I hope you’ll like it all the same.” “We probably should hold off on giving Bradley another heart attack,” she agreed, swinging their arms at the same beat as the skip in her step. “He’s got enough on his plate.”

“Aw,” Liam countered, “I don’t think Augie really minds.” “I’d rather not find out,” Sara insisted. “How does he put up with you?” “I ask myself the same question,” Liam answered honestly. “Bit rich, coming from you, by the way.” “What, you take romantic walks at sunset with him, too? And here I thought I was special.”

It was romantic. Really, it was unfair how much the sky looked like something straight out of a vid. It was a stroke of luck, really. Liam could swear the orange streaks of light had seemed less vivid the night before, the sun smaller, world duller.

Then again, it was all a matter of perception. Something to do with the eyeballs, probably, or maybe just because everything seemed more beautiful with Sara in the picture. He came to a sudden stop, Sara falling into step beside him, brow furrowed. “What’s here?” He moved in to kiss her, capturing her lips in a swift but chaste kiss. “Sorry,” he said, taking a step back. “Couldn’t help myself.” She shook her head, a smile slowly spreading across her face. Disentangling their arms, she cupped his face with one hand, fingers running over the stubble she found there. “Neither can I,” she admitted before pulling him down for another kiss.

This time, he wasn’t so eager to break away.

It had been a while since Sara had initiated this much physical affection and Liam intended to savour every moment of it. She moulded her body to his and he marvelled in the way the curves and contours of their bodies fitted together perfectly. In their relative solitude, Prodromos little more than blinking lights in the distance, Liam grew bolder, letting his hands drop from their natural resting place on the small of Sara’s back to drift lower, lower, and squeeze.

He drunk her in like a man parched, every caress of her tongue against his lips rejuvenating him. When they eventually, reluctantly, had to pull apart for air, he barely moved, their noses brushing as he fought to regulate his breathing. He felt like he had run a marathon. He felt like he’d won a marathon. “I think we were going somewhere before we got distracted,” Sara whispered, her thumb tracing a line down his cheekbone. His hands were still on her arse. But their dinner wouldn’t wait forever. Scott had helped him set up earlier, and had volunteered to keep an eye on the food until a pre-arranged time. If they left it too long, it might be lost to the local wildlife and while it wouldn’t ruin the night, Sara (and not to mention Scott) would never let him live it down.

It occurred to him then that Scott had known, the whole time, that Sara had arrived early, and yet had not let slip a single thing. The little shit. Liam didn’t have it in him to be properly mad, though. Mostly, he was just impressed.

“Yeah,” he answered, finally pulling away and immediately regretting the lack of contact between them. “It’s not too far away from here. Hope you’re not averse to some climbing.” “Climbing!” Sara exclaimed, “And you said we wouldn’t get to do anything exciting.” “Hey, that’s not what I said.” “Details, details,” she answered with a wave of a hand. There was now a five-minute climb, give or take, between them and their dinner, and Sara looked up at the wall of rock with a grin on her face. “Race you?” Liam asked. “How did you know?” she replied, not waiting a single second more before latching herself at the wall. Well, Liam would allow her to have the head-start. He did have longer arms, after all.

He was closing in on the finish line when there was a flash of blue next to him and Sara propelled herself to the top of the outcropping with a helping hand from her biotics. Liam wasn’t far behind her, and grumbled as he pulled himself up.

At least Sara looked pleased with herself. “You cheated,” he complained in playful accusation.

Sara shrugged. “You were too slow.” A sudden thought occurred to Liam. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use your biotics outside of battle.” She averted her gaze quickly, suddenly becoming quite fascinated by some nearby shrubbery. “I don’t, usually. But you know me. Ultra-competitive. Always have to win.” Liam merely nodded, not wanting to push Sara further than she was willing to go. Her redirected attention meant that she soon found their supplies: Scott really had done a number on getting it set up since Liam had to leave. The picnic rug was already set out, a nice touch that Liam hadn’t thought of himself, a traditional red-and-white checkered pattern that made Sara roll her eyes, even as she sat down cross-legged upon it. “This is so cliche,” she complained, propping open the basket nearby to retrieve the cutlery in a series of motions that were almost automatic. She seemed to remember herself removing the plates, sitting back and waiting for Liam to make himself comfortable, the last lingering remnants of sunlight illuminating her face with a golden glow as she beamed up at him. “But you really know how to keep your promises. I love it. Love you.” “I love you too,” Liam murmured in response, placing a hand on Sara’s knee. “Thought about getting a skywriter to leave a message up there, a little nod, you know, but then Augie really would get mad, and I have to work here.” Another thought occurred to him at the mention of work. “You didn't tell me how your meeting went.” In fact, Sara hadn’t mentioned anything about her role as Pathfinder, or even about the Initiative since she’d got here. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. Fortunately, Sara merely groaned and rolled her eyes, lifting one of the champagne glasses she’d retrieved from the basket. Liam remembered those glasses. They were the ones that Suvi had made shortly after the battle. “I’m going to need a drink before I start getting into my day.” Liam was more than happy to oblige.

***

The rundown was: Tann was still a jerk, and as a consequence, Hayjer had been unable to attend the meeting Sara had called. She’d already rescheduled it, but was frustrated all the same. ‘I’m just trying to get shit done, but keep getting tied up by bureaucracy.’ In turn, Liam had updated her on Prodromos’s progress; Sara had been surprised but proud when she’d learnt that the outpost was almost self-sufficient. Most of the food in their picnic had been sourced locally; Sara’s favourite had been tomatoes. Prodromos’s population now had a grand total of five infants, with Gil’s son soon to be the sixth. ‘He must be ecstatic,’ Sara had noted, even though her face had dropped as she’d said the words. ‘God, I haven’t spoken to him in ages.’ It took all of Liam’s willpower not to spoil the next surprise. He wasn’t as close to Gil as he was to some of the others, but he figured that would change now Scott and Gil were dating. He looked forward to getting to know him better. Bellies full, the champagne bottle near-empty and the sun disappeared over the horizon, Sara nestled herself into the crook of Liam’s shoulder as they lay down on the rug together, legs lazily intertwined. Sara slipped her hands underneath Liam’s shirt and when he flinched she argued it was to keep her hands warm. “Thanks again for this,” Sara murmured. “For everything.” “Don’t mention it,” he said, with as much of a shrug he could manage in their current position. “I care about you. I want you to be happy.” Sara stilled, her fingers resting against his chest where before they’d been tapping away absent-mindedly. “I guess that’s what I’m not used to.” Liam frowned. “Scott,” he countered. Sara exhaled heavily through her nose. “Okay. But he’s not nearly as handsome.” “Ouch. Don't let him hear you say that.”

“His ego could do with some deflating,” she scoffed, but the words seemed to trouble her, as she quickly followed with, “That’s not fair. I guess I was always a bit jealous of him.” “Wait, you?” Liam asked, shifting over to look at Sara with all the surprise that the statement justified, head propped on chin. By all accounts, by both twins, Sara had always been the over-achiever.

“Yeah, me,” Sara replied, not quite meeting Liam’s eyes again. “Scott always made friends easily, and I just kind of followed him around. Scott’s more laid back, more casual. People took time to warm up to me. We had all the same friends growing up, and I didn’t make many new ones in the Alliance, which was probably for the best. I’d have just lost them anyway.” Whether she meant due to her father's dishonourable discharge or the journey to Andromeda, Liam wasn’t certain. At the end of the day, the two were related anyway.

“Liam,” Sara started hesitantly, so different to her usual tone that the hairs on the back of Liam’s neck immediately stood on end. “Can I ask you something?” “Of course. Anything.” Her fingers resumed their rhythm against his chest. “How do you sleep at night knowing that everyone you know from … before is gone?” “Not as well as I’d like.” Then again, she’d already known that. Truth be told, Liam still wasn't sure he could give an answer the proper gravity it deserved. “All right. I walked right into that one. I’m not… questioning your judgement or anything. I know why you came here. I know what you’ve set out to do. And I admire it. But I couldn’t have done it. I wasn't even as close to my family as you were, but I couldn't have left them behind. Sometimes,” she continued, a small, sad smile forming on her face, “I’m worried that I'm becoming more like my dad than I ever wanted.” “Hey, don’t say that.” The past month or two since Sara had discovered the truth about her mother’s death had weighed heavily on her, and she'd always clouded over whenever her father was mentioned, even in passing.

Then again, he remembered Scott saying something along those lines, back when Sara had disappeared for her Havarl expedition: always took after Dad, for the better or the worse. Liam still wasn’t, and never would be, in a position to make his own evaluation. He just had never known it’d been a fear of Sara’s. He drew her close into his chest again and held her against her chest. She breathed in deeply, shakily. “Another question. What's the most useful thing your parents ever taught you?” Liam’s mind flashed back to those days of being bullied in school, acting out, getting angry. When he got home, Mum would be angry, too, at least until she remembered to calm down. If anyone ever asked Liam which of his parents he took after more, it was definitely Mum. It was Dad who had sat him down and worked through things with him in a way he could understand. Helped him learn how he could figure out what made people tick. Made it easier to reach out, make friends, without pissing people off. And most importantly… “To never, ever give up,” he answered. “Funny,” Sara answered, corner of her mouth curling upwards. “Mine taught me the same thing.” They laughed in unison, Sara sitting upwards and slipping her hand out from his shirt. “I’d like to hear more about them, if you want to talk about them.” “I’d like that,” Liam admitted. “I can trade you stupid stories about Dad,” she answered with a smirk. “Not your mum?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Sara’s smile softened, but this time, she held his gaze. “I hope she’ll be able to tell you those for yourself.”

There was determination in her eyes, a resolution to a question that Liam did not know. But he didn’t have to. Her happiness was enough. Her smile was enough. He was happy, so happy, he was going to burst. Instead, he said, “Let’s get this packed up before it gets too dark. And, Sara?” “Yeah?” she answered, already moving. “I love you.”

#rydam #liam kosta #ryder #mass effect #mass effect andromeda #nat fic: repopulating heleus #asha fic

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ry-ders · 7 years

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g i ve me 2

real talk i... didnt fill in this prompt correctly but i was already 700 words in and i couldn’t bring myself to rewrite it.....

Title: Punch Drunk LovePairing: Zach/Reyes Summary: In which Peebee gives him a suggestion, and he will definitely not act on it. Nope. Nuh-uh.A/N: This got about as NSFW as I can make it without actually being NSFW. It’s... approximately 2741 words of me building up to a scene without actually putting that scene in.

I don’t know what I’m doing.

“You and Reyes should just bone already,” Peebee nonchalantly says as she flips through the pages of a magazine, her feet propped up on the table in front of her as she sinks into the couch. She doesn’t even look up at him, instead preferring to ogle at the models.

Zach chokes on his water, coughing hard enough for him to double over. Once that fit stops, he straightens up and gives Peebee the most incredulous look he can muster, straight at the back of her head. “Where did that come from?” he asks, still a bit breathless. There’s some spilled water on the front of his shirt, turning the brilliant white transparent.

“Oh, c’mon, Ryder.” Peebee closes the magazine, using one of her fingers to keep her place. She slings her arm across the back of the couch, turning to look at him with hooded eyes. “The way that you two talk to each other? There is some serious UST there. And I see the way you look at him sometimes. There’s no hiding that.” She has a smug little smirk on her face, and her eyebrows wiggle up and down.

The way they talk to each other? All they do is hurl insults if they’re not busy ignoring the other! How could that even be considered a sign of attraction? ..And, okay, maybe Reyes is a bit hot, but that doesn’t mean anything. He might have a handsome face, but his personality (and morals) are lacking. Zach would not be caught dead-

“He looks at you, too,” Peebee says, her smirk growing into a full-blown, shit-eating grin. She knows exactly how this is affecting him, and he hates it.

“I’m not going to sleep with Reyes,” Zach snaps. Reyes is lucky enough he didn’t push Sloane out of the way during that mess in Draullir. Sleeping with him? He is a luxury few can afford, and he’s pretty damn sure Reyes can’t.

But, God, would it really be that bad? Reyes must know some tricks, and it could just be a one and done thing and- yes, it would be a bad idea. A terrible idea. Zach won’t lie. He gets attached easily, and he’d rather not end up clinging onto Reyes because of one night. Push those thoughts out of your head and into the dustpan, Ryder.

Peebee’s eyebrows rise up and she holds her hands up in defense. “Just makin’ a suggestion. Touchy.” She goes back to her magazine, but Zach swears he saw her smile before she turned around.

And now, he’s left with thoughts and a half empty bottle of water. Maybe he should kick Peebee off the ship. He grumbles something before padding off to his room.

“SAM, set a course for Kadara,” he finds himself saying as he walks into his quarters.

“Yes, Pathfinder.”

Goddamn it.

…

He doesn’t miss that self-satisfied look Peebee gives him as he gets off the ship. A particularly rude gesture is waved in her direction, and she just laughs.

Still clad in his (thankfully now dry) Tempest attire, he steps into Kralla’s Song and spots Reyes leaning against the bar, chatting to Umi. Strange. Isn’t he usually in Tartarus? Ah, might as well.

“Vidal,” he says as he sidles up next to Reyes. He holds up an index finger, signalling that he wants a drink. Umi halts the conversation, putting down a glass in front of him and turning around to get him his beloved whiskey.

“Ryder,” Reyes replies, voice as smooth as ever. “Taking a break from being the Initiative’s pet?” He swirls the clear liquid in his glass, not even bothering to look at him. Reyes himself has nothing against the Initiative; he just knows how much that title irritates the Pathfinder.

“Don’t tell me,” Zach starts as Umi walks back over, pouring the whiskey out, “that you forget that it was this ‘Initiative pet’ who gave you what you wanted.” Umi quickly walks away, obviously not wanting to be a part of this. She’s already been asked to pick sides before, and it’s never ended well.

“Still hung up over that event, I see,” Reyes chuckles. He downs the rest of his glass, stealing a glance at Zach out of the corner of his eye. “Why won’t you let it go?”

“Because it’s fun to rip on you about it. And I like reminding you that you owe me for not doing anything.” He follows Reyes in drinking his whiskey, popping his lips once done.

“Do you come here just to bother me?” Reyes asks, an amused edge to his voice. He’s enjoying this teasing, and Zach just wants to punch him. That would feel nice. “I’m a little flattered, Pathfinder.”

Zach snorts into his drink. “I was expecting you to be at Tartarus. And I didn’t come to Kadara for you, I came because Vetra has a deal to close out here. I just want a drink.” It’s a blatant lie and he knows that Reyes knows that it is. Still, he manages to keep a straight face.

“And yet here you are, talking to me.” Reyes gives him an infuriating smirk, and Zach does nothing but scowl. It’s caused by the smirk and the fact that he doesn’t have a comeback to give Reyes. “I guess I could go to Tartarus right now,” he purrs, leaning in closer, and Zach swears the room got 20 times hotter. “Catch up, if you want.” Reyes fluidly turns and actually swaggers away. Who the hell swaggers?

“Pathfinder, your heart rate increased dramatically during that conversation with Reyes,” SAM’s mechanical voice sounds off in his head, “and I detect increased activity in your sweat glands.”

“Yeah, SAM, I know,” he mutters under his breath. His grip on the glass is so tight, he’s surprised it didn’t shatter. He finishes the rest of his whiskey and all but slams the glass down, making the bottles on the counter rattle. “That asshole,” he breathes out.

“Reyes’s heart rate increased as well,” SAM adds. That doesn’t really help him.

He pushes himself off to leave, but is stopped by Umi’s voice. “Are you going to pay for your boyfriend?” she asks, voice monotone and hands on her hips.

Zach sighs, exasperated. “He’s not-”

“Doesn’t matter. Someone has to pay.”

He doesn’t really feel like being on the end of Umi’s knife, so he calls out his omni-tool and taps around on it, wiring her the credits. “Good?”

Umi has her own omni-tool out, checking the amount. She swipes right once and nods. “Good.”

Now that he's free to leave, there’s a particularly annoying charlatan he has to catch up with.

He tells the Tempest that he’s going to the slums. Yes, with no armor, and yes, without squadmates. Tartarus is his only destination. While talking to Kallo, he swears he hears Peebee snickering in the background. He’s definitely going to kick her off the ship.

The music in Tartarus is heart-thumpingly loud, but when is it not? There’s an asari and salarian couple tangled up in a couch in the corner, watching him, and it makes him itch. Ignoring their eyes, he makes his way over to Reyes’s private room. “Vital monitoring only, SAM,” he tells the A.I. in his head before stepping in.

“Of course, Pathfinder.” There’s a quiet hum and then nothing.

The woosh of the door opening heralds his arrival.

“Pathfinder.” Reyes smiles. He takes a drink from the bottle in his hand, and Zach wonders if the man ever gets drunk. Or maybe the bottle is just empty. “Nice to see you here. I thought you only took orders from Tann.”

Zach scowls. “Shut up, Vidal.” He takes a seat on the couch opposite, taking the farthest seat away and stretching his legs out on the available space. “I just came in here because it’s cooler.” And it’s not a complete lie. Tartarus’s name is well deserved. The heat of the neon lights and the sweat of the mingling bodies make it near unbearable. Reyes’s room? It’s the arctic compared to outside. But he mostly came for Reyes. Not that Reyes need to know that.

There’s barely any warning before Reyes throws an unopened bottle at him. A surprised noise spills from his mouth as it hits him square in the chest. He’s about ready to go off, but Reyes opens his mouth first. “It’s water. You look a bit thirsty.” Zach picks up on the double meaning of that word, and he hopes the pink wash of the room hides his flushed cheeks.

“No thanks,” he says, setting the bottle on the table, a steady glare trained on Reyes. Or as steady a glare as he can manage. He crosses his arms as he leans back.

“Why, I’m offended, Pathfinder!” Reyes says, putting on a faux offended tone and placing his hand on his chest. “I got that specifically for you.” He winks, and Zach’s glad that SAM doesn’t blare something about another elevated heart rate. It’s probably unhealthy at his point.

“Are you playing with me?” Zach asks, crossing his arms. He thinks it’s a fair question. All this banter and stolen glances, one can’t help but to feel curious.

“Only if you want me to,” Reyes responds. There’s something in his eyes that Zach can’t quite pin down, but it looks intense. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel anything between us, Ryder.” Reyes’s voice becomes a breathy whisper, and oh, God, get him out before he does something. “Your squadmates have felt it too, no?”

A flashback to the time at the Roekaar base where Liam teased him about not being able to keep it in his pants plays in his head. He didn’t talk to Liam for a few hours after that. And Jaal has asked him about his and Reyes’s relationship, stating that he found it odd that they seemed to dislike each other, and yet they were enamoured with the other. Then, of course, there’s Peebee.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, Reyes,” Zach says. His voice cracks, which is just perfect. That seems to draw a laugh out of Reyes. He balls his hands into fists, steeling himself.

“No, I think you know, Ryder.” Reyes’s voice, at this point, is best described as melted dark chocolate. At least according to Zach. “I think you know exactly what I mean.”

Zach’s breath hitches, and there’s something stirring in his gut. He could leave right now, denying Reyes of anything that he wants, but also simultaneously denying himself. Might make for a few awkward moments down the road, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Or, he could stay and give in to his desires, but risk those turning into something more.

The logical option would be to leave.

Zach Ryder, however, is not a logical man.

“Reyes,” he breathes out, obvious heat in his voice. His skin feels too tight, and it feels like there’s not enough air in the room. God, he’s going to suffocate on his own damn feelings.

“I think I like it when you say my name like that,” Reyes chuckles. “Why don’t you come over here?” He gestures with one hand, beckoning the other over.

His body moves on autopilot, all but launching himself off the couch and straddling Reyes’s lap. He slowly runs a hand up from Reyes’s pec to the curve of his jaw, rubbing his thumb across a cheekbone as he cups his face. That sensation in his gut seems to spread to other parts of his body.

Reyes grabs onto his hips, looking up at him with a cocktail of emotions in his eyes. His grip is tight, but it’s not uncomfortable. Their faces get closer and closer, before they can feel each other’s breath on their lips.

Reyes reaches up and fists his hand into Zach’s hair, pulling him down into a bruising kiss, putting the other hand on the small of his back to support him. Moans fill the air, and they rarely pull back long enough to be able to breathe.

And that’s how Zach found himself sleeping with Reyes, that guy he swears he hates, on a couch in the backroom of Tartarus. How romantic.

...

“Congratulations,” Peebee says, leaning against the wall and grinning saucily. He refuses to even look at her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He hopes that he could get out of this conversation by playing dumb. He’s sore, he’s sweaty, and he wants to sleep. Preferably now.

Peebee looks at him from head to toe, scrutinizing his appearance. “Mhmm,” she hums, sounding a bit like that child on the schoolyard who always thought they were right. “Your hair’s all messy, you smell a hell of a lot like Tartarus, and there’s hickies on your neck “

Zach’s hand shoots up to cover his neck, but Peebee just laughs. “I was kidding about the hickies. Not that it matters. It seems like you took my suggestion. So, how was he?”

“None of your business,” he grumbles, stomping past her and through one of the archways.

“Ooh, that good?” she giggles, following right behind him. She seems positively giddy, and Zach is sure that the rest of the squad will find out about it at the end of the day. He’s gonna need to prepare for all the looks and questions he’s gonna get.

“Peebee,” he says, voice taking on a warning tone as they approach his quarters. “I’m not discussing this with you.” There’s a finality in his tone. No amount of prodding will make him reveal more. The door to his quarters opens, waiting for him to step inside.

“Fine, fine, have it your way,” Peebee replies, backing off. He takes that as his cue to go. Before the doors close, he hears her speak again. “But just so you know, you picked up the wrong shirt.”

Groaning, he looks down, the door sliding shut behind him. She’s right. The shirt is white, yes, but it’s missing the AI logo, and it has buttons. How did he mess up this badly? He’s 5 seconds away from throwing a tantrum, before he realizes something.

It’s an excuse to visit Reyes again.

#what the fuck is this actually?????#codex: zachary ryder #relationship: zach and reyes #thevetranyxs

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