#He knows how injured he is. The only useful thing he can do for Shepard now is get Kaidan to the med bay.

[death-rebirth-senshi]

It's always funny that of course one companion protests to being left behind by Shepard at the beam run and has to be kind of dragged away but that requires the other one to be like. Hell yeah I'm evacuating

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 1

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Word Count: 3,502

Warnings: Abused animal, domestic violence, stalker ex-boyfriend, mention of nightmares/PTSD, smut in future chapters.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A big thanks to @shellyshellshell for encouraging me to write this story!

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

*Syverson POV*

It’s certainly difficult to leave the cool air conditioning of the house to head to work when the weather forecast predicts another scorching Texas summer day where the humidity makes your clothes immediately stick to your skin. It’s nothing I’m not familiar with having grown up in Texas my whole life and then spending two tours in the desert before returning home. You’d think I would move somewhere cold, but the south is all I know. I certainly couldn’t leave Nana and Pawpaw either. After finishing my last tour, I came home and bought an empty house in disrepair and spent the better part of a year ripping it to studs and rebuilding. I was really struggling with returning to civvy life after spending the majority last ten years in the sand pit. Originally, I had just planned to fix up my house so that it was comfortable and hell, livable, until I discovered what I wanted to do outside of the army. Remodeling my house taught me that I really enjoyed working with my hands and building things. I guess you could say taking a broken, outdated home and making it beautiful and functional again really resonated with me on a deeper level. I was lucky to leave the army with only some mild PTSD and nightmares. Hell, I had all of my limbs and was alive which is more that I can say I deserve. Staying busy helped me cope so after working towards getting my contractor’s license, I decided to start my own company, Syverson Contracting. It was still a small operation with only about seven employees including my cousin Alex, but we got by just fine.

After getting ready for the day and sipping on my cup of coffee on the porch with my German Shepard, Aika, I put my boots on and headed to the truck for the first day on a new worksite. Like usual, I called Nana on the way to work to check in. My grandparents lived about fifteen minutes away from me, but I still called to check on them every morning and make sure they’re doing alright. As I drive, Nana starts chattering all about how her friend’s granddaughter is single and I should be looking for a good woman to marry and settle down with. We’ve had this conversation umpteen times before but I can’t seem to get it through my stubborn grandmother’s head that it’s useless. I’ve been burned by too many women in the past as a young and naïve man and I just don’t want to bring someone into all of my problems. Yes, I go to therapy at the VA to help with my PTSD but it still doesn’t stop the sleepless nights and nightmares that immediately send me back to wartime in the desert. As much as I’ve always wanted a partner in life; a beautiful wife to come home to, a couple of kids and the proverbial picket fence, I just don’t see how it could be in the cards for me now. I’m too fucked up. Nana of course would never understand and I certainly don’t want to drag her into it so I just listen to her drone on and on about some chick named Susanne and then tell her that I’ve got to go.

After speaking with my team and giving instructions for the job, I went to Alex’s flatbed truck and we all started unloading the materials. The home we were working on was owned by a young couple expecting their first child. It was a simple job, replacing the flooring throughout the house, building a shed in the backyard for lawnmowers and other garden tools, and repairing some dry rotting siding near the fireplace. The great thing about my team is that I could get them started and didn’t have to micromanage them. After several hours in the walloping sun, we all broke for lunch. After cooling off and reenergizing at the local Wendy’s, we all headed back to the house to continue our work. Since I was used to being in these weather conditions, I decided to head out toward the edge of the woods in the backyard and start building the garden shed. When I went to lift up some of the plywood, I was beyond shocked to find a shaking and filthy little tan dog who appeared to be injured and terrified.

“Shit. Heya buddy, I ain’t gonna hurt you. It’s alright pal. Let me take a look atcha.”

As a true animal lover, I was immediately enraged. Someone had intentionally abused this poor defenseless animal and either abandoned it or it was able to limp off to the woods. The little male pup, couldn’t be older than a year was bleeding from four different wounds on the side of his sand colored body. The second I scooped him up, he was whining and cowering in fear.

“You’re alright little man. I’m gonna take care of ya. Let’s see if we can getcha to a vet.” I call Aika’s vet office and unfortunately there is no answer. Janet must still be taking her lunch break.

I see Alex walking outside to grab some of the flooring to bring inside and yell for him to come here.

“What’s up, Sy?”

“Just found this little guy beat to hell by the woods.”

“Jesus. What kind of bastards do that to an animal?” Alex ponders as he was looking at the injured and sick animal. 

“I’m gonna see if Dr. Robinson’s in. Hopefully I can get the little feller in today but I need you to run the site until I get back.”

“No problem, Sy. Didn’t she just have another kid? I’m not sure if she’ll be there but I know Jessica said something about them hiring a new vet so I’m sure someone will be around.”

The veterinarian’s office was only a fifteen-minute drive from the site so after giving the poor thing some water, I loaded him up and drove there.

On the ride over, he seemed to relax a bit and not shake as bad as he had been and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Oh Austin! How good to see you! Did your Aika have an appointment?”

“Hey Ms. Janet, is Dr. Robinson in? It’s not for Aika. I found this guy by the woods and he’s been hurt something awful.”

“Heavens to Betsy! Poor little angel! Elizabeth is out on maternity leave but we’ve hired a new vet. You'll like her. Let me check with her and see if she can work you in.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A few moments later, Janet scurries back and directs me to an exam room with the little guy. I guess I could have just dropped him off and went back to work but my heart just couldn’t stand it. Hell, I fought to bring back Aika from Afghanistan because of how quickly I fell in love with her and she’s been the best dog ever. I can’t imagine leaving this little guy to potentially die from his injuries without a friendly face nearby.

*Knock Knock!*

The door opens and my heart stops at the same time. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen enters while carrying a clipboard and a stethoscope. She’s a petite little thing only reaching to my shoulders with long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and crystal blue eyes that feel like they see straight to my soul.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Emma Miller. I hear you found this little guy in the woods?”

“Uh, yes ma’am. Hello there, I’m Austin Syverson. Yeah, I uh, I found him and he looks like he’s been abused.”

She smiles brightly and shakes my hand when I introduce myself and the moment I touch her soft skin, I can hardly think straight. Why the hell do I feel so jittery? It’s just a beautiful woman Sy. Get ahold of yourself. I tell her exactly what I found and she quickly starts examining him while speaking to him in a sweet voice.

“Hi sweet boy. You poor thing! I’m so sorry someone has been treating you so horribly. We’re going to take care of you, yes we are. You’re going to be good as new! I’m going to give you some fluids because you’re dehydrated little guy. Once we get some fluids in you, I’ll try giving you some food. How about that little man?”

I can’t help but smile as she baby talks to him while inserting an IV in his tiny arm and starting him on fluids. She examines the wounds more carefully before retrieving a pair of things that look like tweezers.

“If I had to guess, I would say this guy is about 10-12 months old. I suspect these wounds on his side are from a BB gun. Would you mind holding his head? I’m going to give him some pain relief in his IV to help him relax and then try and clean the area and see if I can remove them. We’re a bit short staffed at the moment with Dr. Robinson out and two of our techs calling in sick so I’ll need your help if that’s okay?”

“Fucking BB guns.” I murmur under my breath. Damn some people are just the worst.

“I’m happy to help.” I tell her quickly and take up residence next to the puppy’s head to hold him still.

“Thank you.” She replies quietly while concentrating on rubbing some brown cleaner across each wound.

I can’t help but watch her as she focuses on removing all four bb’s and placing them into a metal bowl. She’s so effortlessly beautiful and incredibly adorable as she works on the dog who seems to be feeling so much better with the medication and fluids that he has received. She sews up each wound quickly and efficiently. The pup seems to be almost as captivated by her as I am. When she’s done, he even attempts to wag his tail for her. Dr. Miller explains that he will need a flea and tick bath before she can dress the wounds because he has several fleas on him and she doesn’t want them getting into the incisions.

“Mr. Syverson, I hate to keep you from your day. Would you want to just come back for him in a little while? I have to do an exam on a yorkie with diabetes but then I’ll bathe him on my break and get his wounds dressed.”

“Sugar?” I ask.

“I’m sorry, pardon?” She responds a bit flustered.

I smirk as I see the blush tinting her cheeks. “The yorkie. Is it named Sugar?”

“Oh! Yes! Someone you know?”

“My grandma’s neighbor, Mrs. Clayton, has a yappy little yorkie named Sugar and I believe I overheard that it has diabetes.”

“Yes, well that would be her.” She smirks back.

“I don’t mind waiting with the little guy. Is it alright if I stay and help you bathe him? Since your short staffed and all?” I ask with my most charming smile.

Her beaming grin tells me all I need to know. “Sure, Mr. Syverson. Can you give me about twenty minutes?”

“Only if you’ll call me Austin or Sy. Mr. Syverson is my pawpaw.” I say with a grin.

“Alright Austin. I’m going to leave you with some wet food on the table for this little fellow, but can I trust you to only give him small amounts slowly? We don’t know when his last meal was so we don’t want to overwhelm his belly.”

“Yes ma’am.” I mock salute at her with two fingers and she giggles when she leaves the exam room. I swear the moment she did I was a goner. I need to find a way to hear that giggle more.

“Well little guy, it looks as though we are helping each other out, huh? You ain’t the only one broken and battered.” I say as I give the dog a small plastic spoonful of wet dog food that he almost swallows hole.

“What should I call you?” I hypothesize aloud while the pup continues eating sloppily from the spoon I’m holding.

“Since Dr. Miller here patched you up, how about Miller? We can call you Mills for short. What do you think about that? I like it.”

Emma finally returns to the exam room and is happy to see that the Mills has eaten the food I gave him and kept it all down. Due to the food, medications, and fluids he received you can already tell a slight difference in his demeanor.

“Let’s get you all cleaned up, shall we?” She says while carefully picking him up and carrying him to the back of the building before pausing. “You coming, Austin?” She asks.

God, I hope I will be soon. I think before I rush over to open the exam door for her and follow her to the back.

“You know, I’m breaking rules by letting you back here so don’t make me regret it.” She says to me teasingly as she carefully sets Mills into a large stainless-steel sink and begins to bathe him with medicated shampoo.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Dr. Miller.”

“No, if I have to call you Austin, you have to call me Emma. It’s only fair.”

“Well, Emma is a beautiful name so that will be easy. If you don’t mind my asking, where are you from? We haven’t had a new vet in town since Dr. Robinson came and that was probably ten years ago.” I watch as Emma carefully removes three ticks from his fur and want to outwardly cringe. Ticks are the devil’s bug.

“I’m from Alabama. I’ve only been in Texas for about a month but just started working in the office this last week.” She tells me as she very carefully continues to clean Mills.

“What brought you all the way out here? Did your husband get transferred out here or something?”

She side eyes my question with a smirk. “Nope, just the job. No husband or kids. No boyfriend either in case that was your next question.” She remarks sarcastically.

My stomach flips with excitement even though she caught on to what I was really fishing for.

“Well, I’m certainly glad you’re here. For Mills’ health needs of course.” I add quickly while gesturing to the pup.

“Mills?”

“Yup. Short for Miller, after the doctor who’s taking care of him.”

Her cheeks blush bright red as she runs a flea comb gently through his fur. “Well aren’t you just the charmer. I’m surprised Janet didn’t warn me about you. She’s been clueing me in on pretty much the entire town.”

“Ah, good ole’ Janet. She knows there’s no need to warn you about me. She’s known me since I was in diapers so that should tell you enough about my character if she didn’t warn you off.”

“That’s good to know. So, are you planning on keeping little Mills? Or are you wanting us to adopt him out once he’s all healed?”

“Oh, I plan on keeping him if that’s alright. As long as my girl, Aika, is okay with it I’ll keep him. Can’t imagine sending him off to a stranger after what he’s already been through.”

“Well, if your girlfriend isn’t on board with keeping him just let us know and we can see about arranging a foster for him until he’s able to be put up for adoption.” She says while stepping a little further away from me.

Girlfriend? Oh dumbass, you made her think Aika is your girlfriend.

“Aika’s my German Shepard. I don’t have a wife, kids, or a girlfriend either.” I said poking fun at her sarcastic comment from earlier.

Emma grins but just continues to rinse Mills off. She notices that one of his paws looks a bit swollen but she can’t find any cuts or wounds so she thinks it may just be bruised from trying to run from his abuser.

Once we get him dried off, I hold his head again for her to clean and dress the wounds on his side and I’m dreading leaving.

“So, I’ll need to see little Mills in 3 days to check his wounds and remove the stitches. I need you to clean and redress the wounds one time a day like I’ve shown you. I’ve got his medication and antibiotics here and a couple of cans of that wet food that you fed him earlier. I recommend continuing to feed it to him slowly so that his tummy doesn’t get upset. Nobody likes waking up to a dog throwing up or having diarrhea in the house. If he does okay with that food we can discuss increasing his food intake at the next appointment. Do you have any questions, Austin?”

“Just one. Can I get your number, Emma? You know, in case I have questions about your prodigy, Little Mills, here.” I add with a smirk.

“I’m sure you have the number for the vet’s office.” She smirks.

“That I do, but I’d like yours as well, please.” I ask with my most convincing smile.

“Alright, alright. Just don’t advertise it. The last thing I need is people like Mrs. Clayton calling me after hours.” She concedes with a giggle and I can’t help my boisterous laughter at the last part.

“Nobody wants someone like Mrs. Clayton calling them all the time. That woman would talk to a wall just to hear her own voice.” I hand her my phone and she quickly types her number and I save it under “Mills’ Future Mama” and smirk to myself.

I pay and make the next appointment for Mills and then head to the local pet store for a collar, leash, dog bed, and more dog food. Luckily, Mills sleeps on the ride home and I can’t decide if he’s finally realized I’m not going to hurt him or if he’s still drowsy from the effects of the meds he received. I head home and send Alex an update that I’ll be back at the site tomorrow.

When I get home, I bring everything inside before carrying Mills over to Aika and carefully introducing him. After the initial excitement wears off, Aika heads outside to the backyard and I’m relieved that she seems to accept him. She’s always been such a good dog so hopefully I can rely on her to show our little rookie around and teach him our routines.

I go about showering and eating dinner, but I can’t seem to get my mind off Emma. I obviously want to play it cool but she has infiltrated my mind to the point where I just can’t think of anything else. I know this is a bad idea but I can't stop myself. I decide to take a picture of Mills in his little bed and text it to her.

Sy: <attached image>

Mills’ Future Mama: I’m glad to see my namesake is adjusting to his new life. I take it that his sibling accepts him?

Mills’ Future Mama: Also, you’re lucky I opened that picture text. Typically receiving a picture from an unknown number is never a good thing 😖

Sy: Sounds like your mind is in the gutter or you have some seriously unhinged acquaintances, darlin. Aika has accepted him into the pack without hesitation.

Mills’ Future Mama: More like, men are nasty and will take any opportunity to send an unsolicited dick pic to even the most unwilling recipients. Glad you found the little guy. He seems right at home.

Sy: He is. You should come visit him sometime.

Mills’ Future Mama: Why would I do that when he’ll be in my office in three days?

Sy: Maybe to see his owner?

Mills’ Future Mama: I’d imagine his daddy will be the one bringing him back to my office though?

Sy: Alright then, how about I make you some dinner at my place? Say tomorrow at 5pm?

Mills’ Future Mama: Make it 5:30 and I’ll be there. Just know I’ll be sending your information to my best friend in case you try and murder me.

Sy: What type of people were you surrounded by in Alabama? 🤨

Mills’ Future Mama: I was actually in a super safe town. Just watch too many crime shows to make careless mistakes.

Sy: Smart lady. You can tell whoever you want, darlin’. I’ve got nothing to hide and I appreciate a woman who has some self-preservation skills.

Mills’ Future Mama: Trust me, I’m very skilled at many things. 😜

Sy: Damn woman, I’m trying my best to be a gentleman here. It’s not fair to tease me.

Mills’ Future Mama: Not teasing. Just stating facts. 🙃

Sy: Tomorrow can’t get here soon enough. Here’s my address. Any food allergies?

Mills’ Future Mama: Nope! I’ll bring dessert. I’m interested to test your cooking prowess.

Sy: You’re killing me.

Mills’ Future Mama: See you tomorrow!

Part 2

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @henryownsme @caramariehurst @beck07990 @mollymal

[ckret2]

bill doesnt really strike me as the type to be really into listening to music, but if he were, do you think there are any particular genres/artists he would enjoy/hate less?

You're in luck because I've put COPIOUS thought into this.

Here's all the canon and semi-canon info about Bill's musical tastes I can recall off the top of my head:

ONE. From the AMA, his favorite "song" is a rising Shepard tone.

*MY FAVORITE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rzIiF7LpPU

TWO. He is interested in the "good stuff" out of human pop culture, which includes the song "96 Tears" by Question Mark & The Mysterians.

Are you at all interested in human pop culture?

JUST THE GOOD STUFF! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R7uC5m-IRns

THREE. He knows the song "Stacy's Mom". This says nothing about whether he likes the song, but he's knowledgeable enough about recent human pop culture that he can casually drop a reference to it in a joke. It's probably safe to assume he's familiar with a broad variety of popular human music.

Hey Bill. What's up with Wendy's mom?

WENDY'S MOM HAS GOT IT GOING ON. SHE'S ALL I WANT AND I'VE WAITED FOR SO LONG.

FOUR. When he gives himself a super cool car its radio is playing a rap song. I wasn't able to find any identification for the song, but it sounds to me like it could potentially be by Lil Bigg Dawggg, the same in-universe artist behind "Straight Blanchin'"—so, extremely popular mainstream rap. (Song heard at 2:50).

FIVE. He's got some kind of generic-sounding electronic dance music playing during his Fearamid party.

SIX. The "We'll Meet Again" scene. He can play the piano. I suppose you could choose to believe that Mr. All-Seeing All-Knowing Eye can play any instrument and he just happens to pick the piano for effect—he might not even actually be playing, since the song keeps playing itself when he turns away—but I choose to believe he's playing it and at some point he actually made the choice to learn piano for fun just because he wanted to. As someone who took piano lessons for over a decade, assuming that is indeed his own playing, I'd rate him as competent and skilled (that's a pretty impressive run at the start), but no virtuoso. He'd be a hit at the family holiday party but not in a concert hall. The choice of "We'll Meet Again" might mean he's got a soft spot for WW2-era popular music but might just be a "he knows human popular music and will freely reference it for a joke" thing.

SEVEN. "No! Synthesized music! It hurts!" Considering the circumstances, this may or may not actually apply to his musical tastes. Maybe only this particular synthesized music hurt him because Mabel had specifically decided that Xyler and Craz's music would injure Bill, maybe only extremely 80s-sounding synthesizers hurt him, etc. Most damning to the theory that he's got some kind of synthesized music allergy is the fact that almost all the music he's shown to voluntarily listen to and presumably enjoy (rising Shepard tones, the rap song, the party music) makes use of synthesized sounds. Still, it's worth mentioning that this is something he said at one point. (At 2:06.)

If anyone else recalls anything I missed about Bill's musical listening habits, toss it at me.

So, that's what we've got canonically. On that basis, here's what I headcanon about his tastes:

ONE: favorite music

His absolute favorite "music" is stuff that doesn't sound like music to humans at all. So sounds that are created to follow certain patterns (not quite as random as, say, pure white noise); and on top of that, sounds that, subjectively, sound extra creepy to humans or make humans anxious (think how folks claim Shepard tones can drive people "insane"). So think nuclear alarm sirens, unnerving tornado sirens, War of the World tripod horns, Saturn, foghorns, The Backwards Music Station. If you want some actual music that sounds as close to these kinds of sounds as possible, thus far I've collected Curious Noises & Distant Voices, 20210310, Happy Happy Happy—and if you want to start drifting into more "musical" sounding genres, Tira Me a Las Aranas or Ledge.

I feel like noise as a genre ought to have a lot of music that fits the sound I'm looking for, but in practice a lot of what I've crossed paths with is really harsh/loud—sounds like breaking machines and blasting microphones—rather than the more swoopy tones I'm looking for. I think of all the noise subgenres I've sampled, death industrial noise is the closest subgenre to what I want, but it's not quite there either. I've had some success looking at hauntology artists, but that's a pretty big umbrella stylistically speaking. Does anybody know a genre that sits somewhere halfway between noise & ambient?

TWO: favorite human music

So that's that for Bill's alien musical tastes. As far as his human musical tastes, he cites Question Mark & The Mysterians specifically as "the good stuff"—so I imagine that's probably his idea of the best kind of music humanity's produced. So: extremely sixties. Hammond organs out the wazoo. Bands with occult-sounding names and lead singers who claim to be Martians that lived with dinosaurs and will be alive in the year 10,000. I tend to tilt him toward bands/songs that fall under the "psychedelic" umbrella, considering that the aesthetic tends to be kinda, well... just go google "psychedelic art."

Tell me this isn't what Earth would look like by Weirdmageddon day 30 when Bill starts to get bored. I mean come on. The only difference is Bill's version would have more fire and blood.

So start with some of your traditional psychedelic songs—Incense and Peppermints, White Rabbit, Breathe (In The Air), Time Of The Season, Purple Haze, Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, etc.—and branch out from there. Slap on any decent psychedelic/hippie-themed playlist and you're good: try this hippie playlist, this psychedelic pop/rock playlist, or this dark psychedelic playlist.

Once you get past the more mainstream stuff, I go toward weird things that sound like they ought to be from a lost 1960s art house film that accidentally predicted the rise of UFO cults—things that vibe with Bill's occult + conspiracy theory + faux religious figure vibes. Think Bruce Haack, such as the album Electric Lucifer, particularly Electric to Me Turn, Cherubic Hymn, or War; Joe Meek's album I Hear a New World, particularly the title track or Orbit Around the Moon; or the particularly alien-sounding The Red Weed (Part 1) off Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds.

And after all that, I poke at modern psychedelic rock songs that lean more heavily into witchy & occult imagery—such as Astral Sabbat or Come a Little Closer—but by this point we're really on the fringe of the sound I'm looking for. There isn't nearly enough Hammond organ.

THREE: favorite human party music

Now, compared to the last couple of sections, this section is gonna be something of a cop-out, because I've done less musical digging; but when it comes to what he'll slap on for a party—which I imagine makes up probably a good 75% of his casual music consumption—he's just gonna slap on any popular current music he thinks is good for a party.

Currently? That probably means a lot of hip hop and EDM. Okay. In the 80s he probably woulda put on disco. In the 21st century he'd put on Get Low, First of the Year, Shots, DotA, Intergalactic, and Dragostea Din Tei (hardstyle remix), in a row, without a second thought, and with no heed to the humans going "what the FUCK is this party mix." These are not the best examples of what he'd play; just the first, most cringe, and most discordant examples I could think of. The more easily a potential party song can be described as stylistically or lyrically "obnoxious," the more likely it is to make his playlist. Does it sound like it should be played extremely loud? Would it offend the neighbors? Does it have a bass line that sounds like it could crack concrete and break ribs? Would humans recognize it as part of a widely-known meme, but not know whether Bill (an alien) is oblivious or if Bill (a troll) added it for that reason? It's going on, he's hitting shuffle, and it's not coming off the party playlist until he gets bored of it and finds something newer and even more obnoxious to replace it with.

If anyone has any good recommendations for specific genres that would yield a reasonable pool of Party Songs That Would Get Noise Complaints Filed (And Also Don't Go Together At All), I'm willing to take them. My gut says crunk and dubstep, but my hip hop knowledge is lacking and my EDM knowledge is extremely eclectic.

(Anyway if you made it this far I'm rewarding you with a link to my Bill Cipher spotify playlist I listen to when writing fic. It's 50% songs that I think actually match the "music he'd like" categories, 50% songs that are about him but that he wouldn't necessarily like, 50% songs about his relationship issues, 10% songs that are NONE OF THE ABOVE but that need to be in there because I need them for fic-writing vibes, and one single solitary song that is not actually about Bill at all, but rather about Pacifica, but that i put on the playlist anyway because it's a REALLY GOOD Pacifica song and I don't have any other Gravity Falls themed playlists so here it is. "That adds up to 160%—" and what of it. The percentages aren't even accurate.)

[sharkdream3421]

Garrus Vakarian X Reader - Deadly Love Triangle

That mission was so tricky we all kept running out of ammo, but thankfully Nihlus had extra thermal clips on him. At least we finally cured the genophage. Wrex was thrilled that his people would be okay now, and would finally be able to reproduce and have offspring so the krogan can shape their own future. Wrex told me that he plans to focus on rebuilding and no more war for them. That was a relief to hear, all war does is cause chaos, diversity, and hate. Reminds me of the first contact war, it was war between the humans and turians. All it did was help me to cause hate toward the turians. I mean the war caused my grandpa to die, I then hated turians from that point on.

Everything changed until I met Garrus. Nihlus was the first one to come aboard the Normandy, but even then I didn't even trust him. He was one cocky son of a bitch.

"I move faster on my own."

Yeah right he could have died if Kaiden, I, and Ashley had not interfered. I told Kaiden to use his biotics on Nihlus causing him to fly into a bunch of crates and pass out. Ashley just shouted "Gun!" which did not help what so ever. I sniped the other turian, I didn't kill him because it only hit his shields, but I did throw off his aim when he was pointing that carnifex on Nihlus.

When I met Garrus I still doubted I could trust him, he just seemed dangerous. I mean he almost hit the hostage when Me, Shepard, and Ashely were about to save the lady that was from the Med Clinic, as she was being mugged from some gangsters. After talking on the Normandy though I started to know him better. He was a C-Sec officer who was surrounded by regulations, and all he thought that mattered was getting the job done no matter who he had to sacrifice. His father said he was starting to become like Saren, and for the best part. His Dad wasn't wrong.

I suggested to Garrus that he should calm down and look at the bigger picture.

"Sacrificing civilians is not the right thing to do. You know Garrus, Shepard told me that she learned from Captain Anderson that all that Saren wanted to do was complete the mission no matter how many lives were sacrificed. So don't you see? Your acting just like Saren. You also don't have to be like Nihlus either." I sighed realizing that Nihlus was Saren's apprentice. I know that Nihlus is different from Saren, in terms of treating humans with kindness and not segregation. Although, his way of fighting is the same. Shepard told me that his goal was simple, "I don't care that your human Shepard, I just care that you get the job done."

After some talking with Garrus and helping him stop Dr. Heart. Garrus started to become a paragon and less of a renegade. That was good to hear, I'm honestly a paragon and shooting people isn't always the answer. If convincing is no longer an option, then I take out my gun and shoot. Shepard is like 60% Paragon and 40% Renegade. Meanwhile, Nihlus is...complicated. He is mostly renegade, but then sometimes he's just nice? Merciful? I don't know it's hard to figure out what happens in the turian spectre's mind.

I was starting to fall for Garrus probably after we picked him up on Omega. When I heard he was very injured I was having a heart attack. I felt like I needed him, I prayed so hard that he was going to be okay. When I saw that he was fine, and he was going to recover. I just gave him the biggest hug ever. Garrus was my best friend after all, it was very hard not to hate him. He just had a great sense of humor, which would always make the crew laugh and cheer up even in the most darkest times we were in. I trusted him with my life now, and I saw no reason to hate him. I loved him, but so did Shepard.

Shepard managed to reach Garrus first before me. Dang it! I should have told him my feelings sooner! Kasumi was like the rumor mill. She would always sneak around the ship and go into other people's business. I saw Shepard head into the elevator before the Suicide Mission, then not long after I saw Garrus go into the elevator. Neither one came out of that elevator until three hours later. Who knew what they were doing? Well I knew, it hurt me like a ton of bricks. Garrus belonged to Shepard. Not me, I mean who would want to date a nerdy girl like me? Absolutely no one. I talked to Liara on the phone, she was about another one of my close or best friends I've had in my life. She suggested that I could wait for Garrus and Shepard to break up, or go find someone different. I just plainly said "I think I'll just wait, but I doubt that Shepard and Garrus would ever break up. They are like two sides of a coin, their is no Shepard without Vakarian." Liara just told me that all you can do is just hope.

Not long after the suicide mission, Shepard was placed on house arrest for being associated with Cerberus. The alliance are pretty much good at being idiots. I remember Shepard making her point across and dang it was true, but of course Hackett is too dumb to even figure out it was true.

"I had to do something about the collectors, only Cerberus did something about it. The alliance didn't even give a shit about it!"

"We would have done something if it weren't for Cerberus." Hackett defended.

When Shepard was on house arrest, I decided to hang out with Garrus and help with things on Palaven. I had never been on Palaven and yet it was amazing! The warm and sunny beaches, the nice alien like palm trees. Palaven's city's also looked nothing like I had ever seen before! I was surrounded by Turians, and some of them even gave me strange looks. Although, Garrus told me that humans do visit Palaven just not many of them do.

Garrus managed to become a "Expert Reaper advisor." I just became like his side kick or associate? Anyway, when we heard their was trouble on Palaven's moon we took a shuttle and made our way to the moon.

There we met Shepard, and Liara. Man it was good to see them again. I watched Garrus and Shepard shake hands, but their was like no kiss or anything? Maybe they accept that their relationship is finally done? This might just be my chance! I also met James Vega, and man he was just very handsome over all, but my heart belonged to Garrus. Not some muscular man, who swears f-bombs once and awhile.

Well I was wrong because after our mission on Palaven, I went down into the cargo hold, where the computer for our security cameras were. I looked at the camera that was in the Battery room and there was Shepard and Garrus kissing. I should have not gotten my hopes up. I have to admit, that Garrus and I don't belong together. He's just a friend and that's probably what he will always be.

Primarch Victus was aboard the Normandy and was hanging out in the War room. I needed some advice, and maybe Victus could have a good answer.

I walked up to him with a smile on my face, "Hey Victus!"

"Ah, Y/N. What do I owe this fine pleasure?"

I chuckled, man he was so polite and handsome. "Victus, I need some advice. I've been head over heels for Garrus for months now, but Shepard and Garrus are in a relationship right now. What do you think I should do?"

Victus sighed, "I'm not really an expert on relationships Y/N."

"Please Victus, I need your help. I'm going to lose my mind." I begged.

Victus sighed again, "I think you should tell Garrus how you feel Y/N, and if he doesn't feel the same then you should find someone else to be with."

Victus was right, there was no way Garrus and I could just become boyfriend and girlfriend if we never confessed our feelings for each other.

With me feeling super confident I thanked Victus and walked out of the War Room with me being head over heels to tell Garrus how I feel.

~~~~

Each step I took toward the elevator I got even more excited. I took the elevator one floor down, so now I was on the crew deck. I was just about to round the corner toward the main lobby where the whole crew hangs out until I hear some Human and a Turian laughing. I quickly hid around the corner and peeked to see the most surprising thing I have ever seen today.

There was Shepard and Nihlus slowly walking out of the Starboard Observation deck kissing each other with Shepard's hands on Nihlus's chest and Nihlus's hands on Shepard's waist. They walked into the elevator and then I hear the elevator door close. What the heck was that?! I ran to the front of the elevator doors to see that it was going to Shepard's cabin! What are they doing? Please don't tell me they are...no Shepard wouldn't.

I have to know, I know only one person who could find out what was going on in Shepard's room.

I barraged into Liara's office to see her looking at me with a confused look on her face.

"What's wrong Y/N? You looked panicked." Liara asked me looking worried.

I quickly ran up to her shadow broker terminal. "Liara, can you see what is going on in Shepard's room?" I asked.

"Yeah I can, why?" She asked.

"I think Shepard is doing something really bad, just please Liara, I need to find out what she's doing! I hope it isn't what I think it is." I said with worry in every fiber of my being.

"Okay calm down Y/N. I'm pulling up Shepard's room." I see Liara hitting the keys on her keyboard.

When we saw Shepard's room finally come up on the screen. Me and Liara looked at the screen very shocked. How...how...how could Shepard do this? Why? Why to Garrus?! Their was Shepard having...having sex with Nihlus. It was entirely disturbing to see. Their was Nihlus and Shepard naked and rolling in bed. It was very inappropriate to watch.

"By the Goddess." Liara said with astonishment in her voice and on her face.

Why did Shepard have to do this to Garrus? Garrus...never deserved this! Garrus never did anything wrong! Garrus was loyal to Shepard ever since from the very beginning and this is how she treats Garrus?! My hands curled into fists. I'm going to kill her!

Liara looked at me seeing the hate all over my face. She put her hand on my shoulder, "I'm so sorry you had to see this Y/N." Liara said with sympathy.

I looked down on the floor. "Why did she cheat on Garrus. Especially Garrus, why him? He's been betrayed, failed at his job, lost his own team, and now he's being cheated on over another handsome Turian. I thought Garrus was the most handsome person, his voice, his humor, he's perfect."

"I don't know Y/N, but Garrus definitely never deserved this." Liara said with sorrow.

~~~~

The next morning I had a plot for revenge! Everyone will know, because everyone will be there to see me expose Nihlus and Shepard. I woke up from my bed in the room where the crew would hang out. I took the covers off me and landed on the cold floor with my two cold feet. I slipped my jacket on, my boots, and a pair of jeans. With my anger in tow I opened the door and made my way to the lobby where breakfast was always served.

There she was. That piece of shit sitting at that table looking very happy to see Garrus, yeah right! Wait until I expose the truth.

Liara sat across the table looking at me with a worried look on her face. I looked at her, and she shook her head when I had my fist right by my side.

"Don't do it Y/N, if you expose the truth it's going to do more harm than good." Liara told me, she wasn't loud, but she wasn't quiet either.

"I have to do this Liara. It's the only way." I said.

I raised my fist and hit her really really hard, right in the jaw. Even a tooth popped out! Garrus looked at me very shocked. I mean I did just hit his ex-girlfriend.

"Y/N what are you doing?!" Liara had yelled.

"I'm doing what is justice! Hey everyone, I have something very important to tell you!" I yelled where everyone in the ship could hear.

Everyone gathered around, and I mean EVERYONE gathered around like in a giant circle with Garrus, Shepard, and I in the middle.

"What does (Last name), (First name) wish to tell us?" Legion asked with his head tilted as his optic grew even brighter.

"Shepard cheated on you Garrus! I saw it! I saw it all! Shepard had some really good sex with Nihlus over there!" I yelled as I pointed to Nihlus who looked completely chill.

Liara sighed, "I can confirm that Y/N, is telling you all the truth. I saw it with my own eyes."

Garrus looked shocked, no emotion, utter despair on his face, he didn't even move an inch. Several people gasped, several people looked at Shepard in disapproval, and looked completely pissed off.

"Not cool Commander." James said.

"You are no Siha." Thane blurted out.

"We find Shepard-Commander's actions unforgiving." Legion sounded displeased.

Garrus just walked away in depression. I looked at Garrus, he just showed no emotion, his heart was completely broken. Most of me feels like it was the right thing to do, justice was served. Although, a part of me feels like I did the wrong thing. What did I do to Garrus? Shepard looked around seeing everyone very pissed off. Shepard just ran away, probably to her little hideout, which was her cabin.

I ran after Garrus to see if he was going to be okay. "Garrus! Garrus are you okay?" I asked.

Garrus turned with sadness in his eyes, "No, I don't think I will be. I just need to do some calibrations." Garrus had said as he slowly walked toward the Main Battery.

I would have laughed at him because he said calibrations, just like every time I would, but this time no laugh came from me.

~~~~

Everyone had done their own thing for the rest of that day. Shepard just stayed in her cabin the whole time unless she was called to the War Room or had some matters to attend to. Today, I decided to visit Garrus and see how he was doing as yesterday must have been tough on him.

When the main battery's doors opened I found Garrus collapsed on the floor.

"Garrus!" I yelled as I ran up to him.

I helped him up and he looked at me with tired eyes. "Y/N, I had the most weirdest dream. You were there saying that Shepard cheated on me, and everyone else was so pissed." Garrus said.

I looked down in shame. "That wasn't a dream Garrus, it's true. I revealed that Shepard cheated on you with Nihlus."

Garrus looked down. "Oh, I see. I'll just work on some calibrations then."

I sighed. "Garrus, it's not your fault, I'm sorry that I was selfish and told everyone what had happened, I didn't think that it would affect you like this, I should have known better."

"That bastard Nihlus. Besides I felt like my relationship with Shepard was a bit odd after all. It's okay, I just need some time to move on." Garrus said as he took a small deep breath.

"Garrus, I...I love you, but I understand if you don't want to be with me. Your previous girlfriend cheated on you, and I should probably shut up now. I'll be in the shuttle bay." I walked out of the main battery with a lot on my mind.

~~~~

No, that part doesn't go there. I attached the modifier on the top of the carnifex. Ah, there we go! Now it can provide a little more damage. I also attached another modifier, which can allow some more shots to be fired so we have a less chance that we are going to run out of thermal clips. I grabbed the next weapon, which was the N7 Hurricane. Has a really fast rate of fire, but has very bad accuracy. I just probably set more modifiers on the stability and accuracy then.

"Y/N."

I turned around to see Garrus walking toward me. Looking scared? "Hey Garrus, what's wrong?" I asked my best friend.

"I had time to think, and I...love you too Y/N. All those times we had on Palaven, having dinner together, watching Turian films with each other, going shopping. I loved every moment with you. I didn't know if it was okay to abandon my relationship with Shepard, but I also felt something in me when I was around you. The truth is, I love you (First name), (Last name). I loved you for a couple months." Garrus then put his talons on my hands. "Is it okay if you can be my girlfriend?" He asked.

He asked...HE ASKED me! Oh my gosh, my dream has come true!

"Yes! Yes! You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment!" I cheerfully shouted as I hugged my new boyfriend.

"I love you Y/N." Garrus said with comfort in his voice, as I felt his talon going against the back of my head.

"I love you too Garrus, always have been, and always will." I said with the biggest smile on my face.

~~~~

"(Last name), (First name) we would like to ask you something."

I turned around to find Legion with flowers in his hands. It was strange seeing the innocent geth boy with flowers in his hands.

"Yeah what's up Legion?"

"We have researched some of Earth's culture and religion, and we believe that when someone wishes to show gratitude or kindness. Flowers are a good way to show it." Legion had talked like he was a calculator or something, which was like all the time.

"Who are you giving it to?" I asked with a smile on my face. It's hard to be mad at Legion. He is so good at acting innocent all the time.

"Creator Zorah. We calculate that giving Creator Zorah flowers will help increase our trust, and have less hostility towards us." Legion replied.

I smiled, he's so adorable. "Go ahead Legion, I think she will like it."

Legion replied with a nod and the flaps around his eye opening up. Legion left my cabin in search of Tali.

I smiled as I looked back at the datapad.

"Why was Legion holding flowers?" Garrus asks as he sat on the edge of my bed and gave a little kiss on my cheek.

"He was wanting to give them to Tali, I think he might just have a crush on her." I told Garrus as I smirked.

"So what brings you up here?" I asked.

"Oh, I just wanted to see the love of my life, and make sure she was okay." Garrus said as he gave a small chuckle.

I set the datapad down, and scoot closer towards Garrus. "I am okay thanks for asking, just looking at preparations before we land on Rannoch. I could use a break though."

Garrus put a talon on my face and gently played with my hair with his other talon. "How about we ease up some tension and test your flexibility?"

I smirked, " I would love too."

I read someone's story about Garrus and a Nihlus lives AU and then suddenly I thought what would happen if Shepard cheats on Garrus for Nihlus? Nihlus deserves more attention and should have survived Eden Prime. He would have been a great squad mate in the trilogy! Thank you for reading and have a awesome day!

Masterlist

[hey-its-cweepy]

THEM-

Name: Wolfo Titere

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Age: 20

Birthday: January 1st

Star sign: Capricorn

Height: 7'1

Hair color: Blue

Eye color: Yellow (left) and Black (right)

Occupation: Student

Dorm: Terrovania (Fandorm by @terrovaniadorm!)

School year: 3rd

Club: ???

Best subject: Master chef classes

Dominant hand: Right

Likes: Meat, breaking things, sweets

Dislikes: Getting wet, bright lights

Favorite food: Shepard's pie!

Least favorite food: Eggplants

Hobbies: Cooking/baking!

Talent: He is scary good at hiding despite his height/weight

Personality: Despite Wolfo giving the illusion he's fat, he's actually mostly muscle (which is why he cant swim). He's very protective over stuff that he owns/people he cares about, so if he's charging at you full speed ahead you probably deserved it-

Despite him being unable to swim (without sinking to the bottom), he's able to hold his breath for a very long time and is very resistant! He can easily lift around 200 kg in human form (and +600kg in monster form)

Unique Magic: Follow the scent: User is capable of finding anyone or anything regardless of where its hidden, but they have to know the person/have made contact with the item

------------------------------------

Name: Creek Titere

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Age: 18

Birthday: February 2nd

Star sign: Aquarius

Height: 6'2

Hair color: Pink

Eye color: Blue

Occupation: Student

Dorm: Terrovania (previously tagged!)

School year: 2nd

Club: Science

Best subject: Poison refining

Dominant hand: Left

Likes: Shy/easily scared people, candy, toys

Dislikes: Being told what to do, annoying/bossy people, bitter things, bright lights

Favorite food: Ice cream!

Least favorite food: Anything that's bitter

Hobbies: Painting (She's not very good at it...) And toy collecting!

Talent: She's able to contort her body in a variety of different ways!

Personality: Creek sometimes likes to purposefully mess with people, although she'll never directly hurt them! She also has a bad habit of staring at people, unintentionally causing discomfort and jumping out of corners (without warning) to greet friends-

If you're friends with her, she'll show off the stuff she paints/collects! Although things wont end well if you say you dont like it

Unique Magic: Hello friends!: The user makes the people the spell is aimed at feel paranoid, as if someone is watching them, the spell never lasts for more than 3 days

------------------------------------

Name: Poppet Titere

Gender: Demi-boy (He/Him+They/Them)

Age: 16

Birthday: March 3rd

Star sign: Pisces

Height: 5'3

Hair color: Blonde

Eye color: Black

Occupation: Student

Dorm: Terrovania! (They're 3 of a kind :))

School year: 1st

Club: ???

Best subject: Summoning

Dominant hand: ... He has no arms :)

Likes: His siblings, chocolate

Dislikes: Bright lights, loud noises

Favorite food: Chocolate and strawberries!

Least favorite food: Spicy food

Hobbies: Sewing, plushie collecting, reading

Talent: Poppet has really great balance! Capable of walking as normal even if its on a tightrope

Personality: Do NOT let his sad muppet eyes fool you, he is a little gremlin- Despite Poppet being incapable of speaking english, he still understands it and can write in it!

Poppet has a habit of growling at anyone they meet for the first time, they're not genuinely mad tho! They're just unsure of your intent-

Poppet may be small, but they're just as powerful and spooky as their siblings

Unique Magic: Its unknown how he says it, but it seems after a few specific sounds, the victim of this spell will feel an intense pain course through their body, however Poppet only seems to use it when he or someone else he cares about if injured

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #12

Mass Effect - #12 - Cave In

*

Shepard glanced to his side. “Garrus, did you just-”

“If you ask me if I tripped, I will absolutely shoot you in our next battle and make it look like an accident.”

“You could just say ‘Yes Shepard, I did trip’.”

“Keep walking, Shep.”

Shepard grinned a little but kept going. They’d been exploring underground tunnels for signs of Cerberus activity after getting a tip that they had a lab hidden out in one of them. So far, no luck. But Garrus’s lack of coordination in the cramped tunnels never stopped being amusing.

“If we take the exit a little ways up, we can drive to the next site,” Kaidan said, studying the map of the area they’d been sent. “Maybe split the others up to search, too.”

“What, and pull James away from his winning streak? At this rate, he’ll be the new Shadow Broker when we get back,” Garrus said.

“I doubt Liara would bet that position in a game,” Kaidan said.

“I don’t know; I almost bet my Spectre status after he cleaned me out the other night,” Shepard said. 

“Don’t do that. The last thing we need is for James to be a Spectre,” Kaidan said. 

“He’s cheating. He has to be. Why can’t Liara use her Shadow Broker status to get to the bottom of that mystery?” Garrus said. 

“Well, if the Reapers do kill us all, at least we don’t have to worry about losing everything we own to James. Maybe he should sucker them into a game,” Kaidan said. 

“The war would be over in an hour,” Shepard said. “If only things could be that easy.”

Shepard put a hand out as the tunnel shook beneath their feet a bit, sending dirt and dust down over their heads. They waited until it settled before moving forward cautiously again.

“Is it bad I still think being trapped in these tunnels is better than playing against James?” Garrus said.

“This is the weakest section of them,” Kaidan said, back to studying the map. “No, wait. Second weakest. The section on the far side of the planet suffers regular cave ins. We should avoid those if we can. I doubt Cerberus would set up there.” 

Garrus nudged Shepard. “Sounds like a job for James.”

Shepard kept a straight face, but only because Kaidan shot them a look. The second his attention was back on the map, Shepard nudged Garrus back and they shared a small grin. 

The tunnel shook again and they stopped. It passed and they hurried along, silent worry spreading among them at how frequently the tunnel had been shaking since they got down here. 

They had only made it a little further down when the cave in happened.

It was sudden, a harsh shudder tearing through the tunnel. Shepard just had time to shove Garrus away before the top of the tunnel came crashing down around them.

It thundered, echoing away and back again as debris smashed down, the shaking sending Garrus toppling over as he desperately tried to shield his head. The dust rapidly filling the air became suffocating, billowing out with the force of the falling debris.

It felt like an eternity before the tunnel silenced once more. It stilled, as if done throwing a tantrum.

“Shepard? Kaidan?” Garrus called, waving his hand in the hopes of clearing away the dust. He stared at the thick wall of rocks and earth that had caved in before him, cutting him off from the rest of the tunnel. “Shep? Kaidan?”

Kaidan shakily got to his hands and knees, spitting dirt from his mouth. “I’m okay. Shepard? Shepard!”

His ears were ringing from the loudness of the cave in, but he squinted his eyes through the dust to search for Shepard. His eyes widened in horror.

“Shepard!” he cried, lurching forward and grabbing his shoulder. 

Shepard laid unconscious, breathing shallow. He had a nasty gash on his head, but even worse was the blood blooming against the chest of his suit. 

“Garrus! He’s unconscious and hurt!” Kaidan said, glaring at the wall trapping them here. “We need help. I think his ribs might’ve been injured. There’s blood all over his chest and he’s having trouble breathing.” 

They hadn’t been able to contact anyone once they went into the tunnels. Kaidan tightened his hold on Shepard.

“I’ll be back with help,” Garrus promised.

Kaidan shifted Shepard’s head onto his lap, trying to keep his airway clear. He began tending to the wound on his head, needing to feel less helpless.

“Come on,” Kaidan muttered, gently touching Shepard’s chest. The blood was still spreading, but he didn’t dare tear at Shepard’s suit to check the damage. For all he knew, the pressure of the suit was the only thing keeping Shepard from bleeding out. “Don’t do this to us. You didn’t survive all that shit just to end like this. Hang in there. Garrus is getting help. Come on, Shep, you’ve gotta hang in there until you get your revenge on James.”

He was babbling and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop. He stared helplessly at the cave of rocks and earth trapping them in the tunnel. There was nothing he could do but talk to Shepard and hope to keep him stable.

“Not like this,” Kaidan whispered, cradling Shepard’s head in his lap. “Not…not a cave in. Not like this, Shepard, please.”

And yet, the blood kept spreading, and the tunnel trembled once more.

[orionares]

BTHB: Handcuffed

Psych

@badthingshappenbingo

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the name of the father, my Colt 1911 and the universal hatred of hippies, I will not strangle Spencer with these cuffs….

"Psst...Lassie?"

We will get rescued and then he'll go back to San Francisco with O'Hara….

"Lassito? Can you scratch my back?"

And I will get a reward from the Mayor for self-control…

"Laaaaaasssie, please? Can't reach it- Hey! Do you ever use your cane as a back scratcher?"

"SPENCER!" Lassiter hisses loud enough for the bearded well, hippie guarding the arid decrepit living room to hear. The Police Chief scowls at the blank eyes of the guard and waits for the man to turn back to whatever the hell he'd been doing.

What fresh hell is this- he had told O'Hara that a fishing trip alone with Shawn wasn't going to end well. But then Marlowe had joined with O'Hara's puppy dog eyes and-

"What?" Shawn replies with the irritating casualness one isn't supposed to have while handcuffed back to back.

And also after being kidnapped.

Lassiter lowers his voice down to a loud whisper, "What did I tell you?"

"When Ron and his friends took us from the boat?"

Of course Spencer would figure out their captors name.

"How in God's name do you know that..man's name?" Lassiter asks, already prepared for the idiotic performance sure to follow. In the briefest of moments, Lassiter's heart lifts at the delay in response from Shawn and the beautiful possibility of a semi-mature response.

"'Cause I'm psychic."

Idiot.

Ron lumbers over from his near hour long guard at the door and sneers heavily, "You two needa shut up."

"Kidnapping a Police Chief and a civilian-"

"Psychic," Shawn interrupts because, of course.

Lassiter rolls his eyes and continues glaring at Ron. "Is making things worse. And a hippie like you, destroying this-"

Shawn wiggles in his spot and somehow manages not to irritate Lassiter's injured arm. He dramatically tsks and states," Look, Ron, my good man, as we had tried to tell you while we were on our boat before you swooped in and took us, we are just two men doing manly fishing ...manly...ly."

Lassiter sighs and quickly weighs the pros and cons of persuading Ron to duct tape Shawn's mouth shut. No, they were two men , forced by a pregnant detective and her puppy eyes to "bond".

"Wai, you's kinda young to be a puh-lees chief," Ron says, cocking his head to the right like a German Shepard. Normally, Carlton Lassiter would tear into Ron head to toe for well, everything, but it's the man's current attention that leaves Lassiter well, speechless.

Attention directed solely on Shawn.

Shawn chuckles, not even attempting to stifle down his delight at Ron's comment. "As much as I am delighted at the compliment, alas, I am not the Police Chief in this dynamic duo. No, I am Shawn Spencer, Master and commander of Psychfransico in beautiful San Francisco. This silver haired fox is my idol and Police Chief of Santa Barbara, Carlton Lassiter. "

Ron naively scoffs at Lassiter and chuckles, "You 'ain't a Police Chief. You look like his Daddy."

The squeal of delight from Spencer- is it possible to double the mortification he's already drowning in?

"Stooop," Shawn replies with giddy shyness. "I'd shake your hand , good man, if I could. Speaking of hands, I know you and your merry man of kidnappers-"

"Ya'll went on our land and we can't have that," Ron counters.

Lassiter blinks out of his daze of mortification and snorts at the happy conversing between Ron and Shawn.

How cute.

"Can you two stop sharing your feelings and get back to the fact that you and your little pals kidnapped a Police Chief-"

"And psychic!"

"Spencer, I swear to God-"

"What? Accuracy is important!"

"STOP!!" Ron bellows before staggering back to the counter. The over dramatic fall is one of the many reasons he had taken Lilly to a small gathering of hippies banging drums and reviewed in great details the detrimental behaviors of tree huggers.

A great activity for a four year old, despite Marlowe's eye roll.

"Are you really a Police Chief?" Ron blubbers. Lassiter groans and opens his mouth for another smarmy comment. Unfortunately, the motormouth champion of the West Coast beats him to it.

"He is. One of the best in the west. Just like I am and my psychic skill. Just how I predict that you make that right move and let me and the man who sleeps with two pistols in his bedside go."

It's three- one in the dresser, one under the pillow and one in the ejection slot on the bed frame, Lassiter thinks before the non- irritable side of him sparks a thoughtful observation.

Has Spencer been giving me compliments this whole time?

Ron opens his mouth and gawks momentarily at Lassiter before clumsily turning and lumbering out the door. Shawn sighs louder than necessary and then comments, "He seems nice."

"Do you two want a room to braid each other's hair," Lassiter growls with increasing volume," AND MAKE FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS?"

"Gus and I did that last week," Shawn replies calmly," the friendship bracelets, I mean." He leans towards the wall, humming softly, before pressing a small sharp object against Lassiter's wrist. "I was going to just cut us free instead."

Lassiter Scrunches his nose and imagines his Lilly and his Marlowe smiling back at him and how he'd miss them dearly if he would be arrested for strangling Spencer. "You had a sharp object this entire time?"

"No. I found it but didn't want to use it with our main man Ron in the room,” Shawn states. Lassiter can feel Shawn’s hands fidgeting with the handcuffs. The Police Chief lets out a frustrated humph as Shawn continues to work before the glorious sound of a click from the handcuffs.

“Lassie, can I ask you a question?”

"No."

"No, seriously."

He'd bang his head against the wall if he could. Lassiter inhales and exhales slowly, knowing full well that Spencer could and would keep this game up if he wanted to. "Fine," he says slowly, "What?"

"How do you be a good father?"

Oh.

Oh.

The pain in the ass, the bane of his existence, the-

The handcuffs click and the cold metal around Lassiter's wrist drop to the ground. "Hold on," Shawn mutters as he continues to fidget with his own cuffs until they also drop to the ground. Shawn turns around and repeats his earlier question, "So yeah, how do you be a good father?"

Turning on the floor to face Shawn would take an awkward, frustrating set of movements so Lassiter stays back to back with Shawn. "Is that why you asked me to go fishing?"

Shawn grunts as he rolls onto his hands and then pushes himself up onto his knees. He shrugs and admits, “Me and my dad aren’t- well, we butt heads. With Jules being eight months pregnant, she figured out that I wanted to talk to you but-”

“Spencer, “ Lassiter hisses, softening his expression at the look in Shawn’s eyes. Is that puppy eyes? “How about this? We get out of here, I shoot some hippies and then I’ll give you six minutes.. and forty five seconds to ask me questions about fatherhood.”

Just as his daughter, Shawn perks up and grins as if just being told about a trip to the ice cream store. He stands and helps lift Lassiter to his feet. “There are six doors- two on the left and four on the right. We went down two flights of stairs with eight steps on each,” Shawn rambles, “and….when we were blindfolded in the back of the jeep, we took three left turns and a right turn from the boat.”

In normal times, especially back in the days when Shawn and Gus were causing chaos in Santa Barbara, Carlton Lassiter would scowl and walk away from the idiotic smile on Shawn’s face with Juliet on his heels. Right now, as he’s aggravated for being kidnapped, hungry and really wishing Marlowe hadn’t talked him into taking one pistol with him instead of his usual three, there is a small part of him that he will never outwardly admit that is a bit impressed and proud of Spencer.

A very, very small part of him. A minute size part of him.

“Ready?” Shawn asks as he pulls Lassiter’s uninjured arm over his shoulder for support.

Lassiter nods, thinking- Ready.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Escaping comes way too easy.

Lassiter isn’t the least surprised to find only two of the six men that had surrounded them on the boat sitting in the room at the top of the stairs. He really isn’t surprised when Shawn manages to sow doubt in Ron’s mind long enough to give Lassiter the chance to grab the closest item and whip it across the room and clock the second man in the back of the head.

After calling for assistance, arresting Ron and his unconscious friend and threatening the two arriving SBPD officers with hell if they even think about saying a word, Lassiter stands in front of a police vehicle, watching Shawn talk animatedly to Juliet O’Hara on the phone. The same small part of him that was impressed by Shawn triggers a faint smile on the Police Chief’s face.

“I’ll be home soon. Yep…..tell Gus that he can breathe…..I love you too….kiss the belly for me. Ok, bye!” Shawn exclaims happily. He pockets his phone and tries to calmly cross the lot to Lassiter. Lassiter can feel the excited energy bouncing off the younger man as he asks quietly, “So…..how can I be a good father to my little girl? Like you are?”

Good lord. Lassiter sighs and replies, “You’ll be fine, Spencer, but ask any question you want.”

“For six minutes and forty five seconds?”

He’ll regret this dearly. “I will open it up to ten minutes-” he holds up a hand as Shawn’s eyes widen with excitement, “-don’t make me regret this.”

[zet-sway]

@the-wip-project day 35:

I don't know what today's question is but I gotta write a wall of text about what happened last night because holy shit

I was on the verge of falling asleep and, like I usually do, I decided to hunt for some spicy fanfics to read on my phone. I found one.

All my posts are long but this one is real fucking long. CW for touching on dub-con and injury mentioned in the type of context it probably shouldn't be.

It's time for me to admit that not only am I a oneshot writer, I'm also a oneshot reader. I am drawn to short fanfics. If I click on a chaptered fic, it's (usually) because it's rated E for smut and I'll go in with every intention of skimming it for the spicy bits. I'm not proud of this. I've avoided saying this for years because I don't want to disappoint people who work hard on their very long and well thought out chaptered stories. I have a short attention span, and I know what I want.

But anyway, last night I clicked on a fic with 5 chapters and some amount of words, around 30k? Long, by my standards, but I was tired and I just wanted something to read while I dozed off.

This particular fic hooked me in, though. I still skimmed it, but the writing was so unique in a way that made me writhe with writer's envy and admiration. Whoever wrote this had their own language - nothing borrowed - their own vision.

I guess I should tell the good people who read my posts (ya'll, seriously, thank you) that the fic in topic is called Fault Lines by Recidiva on AO3. I would link to it but uhhhh I may be using my work PC for "extracurricular purposes" right this moment ^^; so maybe when I get home I'll remember to add it.

I skimmed it - like I said above - for the spicy parts. It generally follows the plot of Bioware's canon. Thane begins as possessive and manipulative, likely uncomfortably close to dub-con for a lot of people. He kisses her and knows full well that his kiss will make her willing but intoxicated, and how he will use that to fulfil himself. But as the story progresses, he falls in love. Their relationship is what I'll call "edgy." Both of them are renegades. There's a scene where they get down in the shuttle after a fight and they're both still injured and it borders on downright unrealistic but fuck it, it's fanfic and I bought it. However their relationship develops a certain heart-wrenching tenderness. She asks him what Siha means over and over again, and eventually tells him she thinks "bitch" when he says it. But in that moment they have a playful banter, he knows full well she's probably already looked it up on the extranet, and they fall into bed together. The smut is mind-boggling.

By the time it gets to Shepard's arrest, he's taken up a place on Earth and visits her, breaks into her house arrest. There's a scene where they see each other for the first time in a while, she tells him how much she's missed his mouth and how it's not right how bad she wants him, and wants him bad enough to smother him with affection. She says something to the effect of "if you're looking to die, I'd volunteer to be the cause," implying that her lust is powerful enough to endanger his life. And it was at this moment I realized I fucked up.

It's established that I live in my own headcanon and I'm not burdened with considering the end of Thane's life as part of my fics. And the suspension of disbelief was such that I forgot he doesn't make it. So at this moment in the fic, chapter 4 out of 5, I realized "Oh shit this isn't going to have a happy ending." I skipped to the end right away, I wanted to confirm my fears.

In their final exchange, she asks him to lie to her - something that's repeated in other chapters of the story. I forget what he says, I was reading desperately, but he asks her in return to tell him something true. She kisses him and tells him she loves him, and he breathes his last breath with the lingering tingle of their kiss to carry him to the other side.

I was so entrenched in the depth of their relationship up to that point. The level of fathomless love the author conveyed, unlike anything I've ever managed to write before, but more realistic to my own understanding of love as I've experienced it. Not because they're renegades, but just the selflessness with which they feel, communicate, banter, and make love.

When I read that last paragraph, something inside me broke. That sounds dramatic but that's honestly how I would describe it. It felt like waking up from a night terror, when you bolt up in bed from a dream so bad you immediately get up even if it's 4am because nothing feels real and you're so terrified you have to get up and do something - literally anything to take your mind off it, to ease you back into reality. I put my phone down and stared into the darkness of my bedroom and told myself "it's just a fanfic, no need to get upset." And then I started to cry and I didn't stop for 30 minutes.

My husband was downstairs watching Bohemian Rhapsody and I went down there and wrapped myself around him so tight and cried. Bless this man, from the bottom of my heart - bless him - for his unfathomable kindness. I felt like a fucking fool because I was crying over fanfiction but he paused his movie and just listened while I tried to articulate how it wasn't exactly about the character death, or the characters at all, it was just the writing and how it wormed into my brain so convincingly. I felt the loss like it was my own loss. I am terrified of losing my husband. So many feelings coalesced and I realized one day I may be in that situation, kissing the man I love goodbye for the last time, never to hold him again. I'm at work right now and I'm tearing up because it's so hard.

I tip my hat to the author, but I genuinely wished I hadn't read that fanfic. And isn't it kind of funny after that grandstand I took yesterday about not wanting to write the pain of loss and grief, that I ended up reading it instead and probably fucking myself up just as badly, if not worse, than if I had tried to write it myself?

It gets worse, too. Because it got me thinking about my own writing, and how I could never hope to achieve what that author did. So I sat there crying out my painfeelings while simultaneously feeling like a shit writer and like nothing I put out matters. I got up from the couch, sat down at my PC and picked up where I left off in the Omega DLC in ME3 because video games are great for taking the mind off things. It didn't exactly help with the intensity I'd hoped for, but I managed to fall asleep, by 3am.

Fast forward to this morning. I dragged my sorry ass out of bed 4 hours later and drove to work. By some fucking miracle, no one is here right now except our field director. And I'm stewing in how this one fic really fucked me up bad, reconsidering everything. I feel like I've been put in my place.

So what changed?

Yesterday I posted about how I'm struggling to write a plotline. I know what happens, but I'm not interested in the little bits that tie it together. I want to write the romance. I think there's a way to write the plot and the romance at the same time, but it's damn hard.

I started doing this because I wanted to grow my skills as a writer, and I knew it might be more than I could chew. I'm at that moment now where I'm about ready to give up.

Even if I felt like a shit writer last night (and still kinda do this morning), I know that the stuff I've put out has value. We can't all write these epically tragic smut-romance-renegades-to-lovers tales, we'd all be sad all the damn time. There's a time and a place and - I would argue - even a need for lighterhearted fic out there. There are really no rules. I'm confident in what I know how to do.

But the plot. Fuck it, man. I think maybe I'm trying too hard to be something I'm not. I'm trying really hard to write like other people. I may have mentioned before that I saw a post about how many artists spend their time pining for the skills of others, thinking "wow, when I can draw like that, I'll have made it as an artist." That same post cautioned against this, basically saying you already have your own unique style, it's just harder to see through the lens of your own eyeballs. It's fine to challenge yourself but try to acknowledge what you do that sets you apart already. I feel like I have that something - maybe not to the extent that I wish, but I have something.

So what's the point of the plot? Why do I need to tell my readers how I cured Keprals? I'm asking myself important questions here. I like to think I've come up with ideas that no one else has, but as I said above, I don't read a lot of chaptered fics. I very well may have come to the same ideas as other writers and I'm not even aware of it. I don't know if my ideas are unique but I still arrived at them all by myself.

The challenge here - the thing I'm struggling so much with - is how to put them together with the same elegance of my fellow writers. I'm looking at you, shrios fam (yeah I'm calling you that, yall know who you are). I know I can write words, but it's like I have a bunch of pieces from completely different jigsaw puzzles and I'm struggling to make a new picture out of them. I struggle with the transitions between them.

The point here is I have to find my own way. And I have to stop taking myself so seriously. In fact this level of "seriousness" is one of the things that got me into so much angst over World of Warcraft over the last two years. At least I know how to recognize it.

I have to find my own way. I have my own things that are worth sharing. The author I read last night had a language all their own, and I have a language all my own too. Their wordplay was actually more choppy than I would ever write. I've talked before about how I'm scared of starting too many sentences with pronouns, how I maybe write too many run-on sentences, whatever. This author did that with reckless abandon. It worked for them. So if they can make that shit work, I can make my own shit work.

I have to find my own way.

My most current WIP is Thane and Shepard's first time. I've been working on it pretty nonchalantly because I hadn't intended to publish it until I built up to it. It takes place further into my timeline, and it would probably ruin the point of a slow burn if I put it out there now. There are some really memorably moments in this WIP, and there are other moments that need to be smoothed over as well. I never knew what I'd really imagined for their first time but I think I've mostly developed something that's unique in its own right, and I think will be fun for people to read.

I'm just so fucking torn over what to do with it. I feel guilty for working on it. I should be writing "other shit" leading up to it but I don't fucking want to. I actually wrote probably 2-3k words this weekend, which is a pretty staggering amount by my standards. Some of it was for this smutty WIP and some was for something I just threw together, Thane observing Shepard on Horizon and the emotional toll it takes on her. He's seeing her humanity. I don't know if it's worth it to continue but I wrote a lot of it and the words are more precise than usual for a draft, I don't know. I have so much fucking insecurity. Fuck dude. I want to write this longfic, but I don't want to write it. I want to skim to the spicy bits like I always do.

I am wracked with insecurity, of my own making. I know what I can do but I feel compelled to see this idea through. Somehow I have to find my own way.

TLDR I feel like if I don't publish something soon I'm going to burst and I don't even know what the fuck to work on first and fjslfjsojoiejrj

I would be really down for, like, a bunch of hugs and a bowl of ice cream shared over memes and fanservice.

[swaps55]

POV Case Study – Have Some Writing Meta

Point of View (POV) is an integral piece of the storytelling puzzle for Opus, my main body of fic, so I thought I’d do a meta post that walks through how I use it as a narrative tool. The intention is not to tell anyone how they should or shouldn’t use POV, but rather to demonstrate one way I used it very deliberately to create narrative tension, weave in characterization, and develop an overarching theme.    

Your POV character is an enormous tool in your writing toolbox, whether you are using a single POV or multiple. How you use it depends on a lot of things: what person you’re writing in (first, second, third), the type POV you’re going with (omniscient, meaning the POV narrator can see into everyone’s heads, or limited, meaning you only have access into the head of a specific POV character).

My preferred writing style is 3rd person “in-your-face” limited POV, that puts the reader so solidly in the POV character’s head it’s almost like 1st person in a 3rd person trench coat. That coupled with present tense gives me some extra intensity that I love taking advantage of in emotional or climactic scenes. Again, this isn’t to state a right or a wrong way to use tense or POV – there are lots of great ways to use these tools – but for the purpose of this exercise, this is my chosen loadout.

I made the conscious decision early in Sonata that I did not want to use Sam Shepard’s POV, ever. Every story in his series would be told through the eyes of the people around him. Why? Because one of the key character traits of Sam is that he makes himself whatever someone needs him to be. He sees himself as a tool, so to be a useful tool, he has to have the right shape for the job. This raises the question: who is Sam, when he is free to just be himself? I’m not sure even Sam knows the answer to that question, so to reinforce it through storytelling, I never wanted to reader to see what goes on in his head. Everything you learn about Sam comes through the perceptions of others, and to show the reader how differently he is perceived by others, I write with multiple POVs rather than just Kaidan’s.

Below the cut, I’m going to walk you through a specific example where POV was an essential part of crafting the story I wanted to tell. The chapter in question comes from Fugue, a story I’m writing that explores the aftermath of Alchera. You don’t need to have read Fugue to follow the logic, but if you care to read the chapter, it functions well on its own separate from the rest of the story.

Fugue – This Hole You Left.

This was a very complicated chapter that lived and died by POV choices, and it was extremely difficult to put together. The approach I took was a gamble that (thankfully) worked after much fretting, gnashing of teeth, and help from @pigeontheoneandonly.

This Hole You Left takes place after Sam dies over Alchera. I wanted to paint a ‘kaleidoscope’ of grief, and explore how Sam’s death impacted the people around him in very different ways. Therefore, I needed a plethora of POVs to work with, each one giving me something different. The goals were this:

Find differing POVs that would offer demonstrably different perceptions of Sam and/or illustrate different stages of grief and shock.        

Allow each of those POVs to mold to that character’s specific goals and motivations. i.e., I did not want the grief of other characters to be tied to the romantic relationship that had been lost – because that’s not the lens those characters would look through.

Each POV had to move the chronology along in a way that made sense and felt natural.

Kaidan’s POV was off limits. In the absence of Sam’s physical presence, I wanted to treat Kaidan like Sam – the character people could see, but not explore the headspace of. Everything the reader learns about Kaidan in the immediate aftermath of Alchera comes from other people.

That last piece was important. Arguably, Kaidan’s POV was the most valuable one of all, but I was going to have lots of time to explore it in meaningful ways elsewhere. I thought it might be more powerful to express his grief through the eyes of others, and use him as a central theme to weave in and out of the chapter. More about that later.

This constituted one hell of a puzzle to put together, especially when it came to the chronology. For instance, an early mistake I made was putting the most powerful POV (Anderson) too early in the sequence, which diminished what came after it. Moving that POV around meant re-framing other POVs to keep the chronology moving forward (for example, Garrus’ POV initially came after Anderson’s, by moving it before his, I had to change the context so that Anderson’s POV wasn’t a step backwards in time).

Each POV scene was also intended to essentially be its own self-contained short, creating a microcosm of grief, that when put together, would create a much larger and significant whole.

I could write forever about all the trial and error that went into finding the right formula, but it’s probably more valuable to look at where I wound up, and why:

1st POV: Lora Alenko (Kaidan’s mother)

Why: She gave me a window to set the clock in motion and make the loss of the Normandy feel real, because she had the advantage of having no idea anything was wrong. Plus, her perspective felt like a unique one I hadn’t seen in fic when it came to Alchera. I’d set her character up in Sonata, so readers of that fic would be familiar with her and understand what that phone call meant to her in a more meaningful way.

How I used it: I put her in the middle of a mundane, normal, event – lunch with a friend – and then shattered that normalcy with a phone call telling her the ship her son was on had been destroyed. That shift from normal to a state of dread gave me the tension I wanted to use for the rest of the chapter.

Excerpt:

But before she can answer, her omnitool flashes. She frowns and looks down at her arm. It’s a message from Marc. SOS. Call now.

A chill runs down her spine. SOS isn’t something Marc throws around lightly. She’d gotten an SOS from him when he’d found Apollo, the warmblood she’d ridden for years, with a leg stuck through the paddock fence, and the day they’d learned about Vyrnnus.

Kaidan.

“Melia,” she murmurs. “Excuse me, I have to take this.”

2nd POV: Admiral Hackett  

Why: Hackett gave me the chance to explore Shepard through the eyes of the Alliance. To them, and to Hackett, he’s a weapon rather than a person. He also gave me a chance to weave in a sense of anger, one of the stages of grief.

How I used it: This POV came about late in the revision process, but I’m thrilled it did, because I was missing that cold, calculated look at Shepard’s importance. Shepard dying fucks up Hackett’s plans and political machinations, and his immediate response is not to mourn someone who died, but to move on to plan B. This also gave me a shot to work in Shepard’s mother. By seeing her in Hackett’s POV, I could reinforce the ongoing theme that Captain Shepard sees her son as a legacy, rather than a person.

Excerpt:

There isn’t a list of people who can replace Shepard. Time to make one. Hackett exhales, gaze falling to the datapad on his desk, Shepard, Sam still displayed at the top of the casualty list.

He picks it up and hurls it at the wall. It cracks, screen flickering to black as it clatters to the floor.

What a goddamned waste.

3rd POV: Joker

Why: Joker was an easy one. I’d set up some rather terrible foreshadowing in Sonata with a scene in which he makes the comment “I’d go down with that ship,” and Sam replies, grinning, “Not while I’m around.” I wanted to spike the ball over the net in Fugue, so parking in Joker’s POV in the immediate aftermath was a no-brainer.

How I used it: Through Joker I could explore guilt and shock, so I went back to that memory from Sonata and used repetition to make Joker feel stuck in that moment. It was also my first chance to weave Kaidan in to reinforce the notion of guilt and lay some neat groundwork for narrative tension that would come to a head later.

Excerpt:

I’d go down with that ship.

Not while I’m around.

He should have abandoned ship. The escape pod was right there. He could have given up the Normandy at any time. All he had to do was step over the bodies of Pressly. Chase. All he had to do was leave them all behind.

Instead he’d stayed, and Shepard had made good on his word.

I’d go down with that ship.

Not while I’m around.

4th POV: Dr. Chakwas

Why: Through her, I could look at the adrenaline and denial that comes with managing trauma. To her, Shepard was a patient. Because she is overwhelmed with patients in the form of the Normandy’s wounded, she cannot stop to think about the one she cannot help: she has a job to do, and she has to do it. There will be time to grieve later.

How I used it: Again, I used Kaidan to emphasize her role as a caretaker. Kaidan, who is in command of the survivors, has a moment of weakness that she cannot afford to have, and he can only afford to have in front of her, because she overrides his authority in a medical emergency. Because we are in her POV, we see her outwardly refuse to crack, when internally she’s hanging by a thread. It made for a nice contrast.  

Excerpt:

“There was no transponder signal,” she tells him, saying out loud everything she’s been repeating to herself. “We were in hostile territory, with over twenty injured crew. He was gone, Kaidan.”

His fingers curl, eyes still trained on the window.

She puts a hand to her forehead. Between Virmire, triage on the Citadel and this it’s too much. Before today she’s never felt old. Tears sting the corner of her eyes and she swears under her breath. Not here. Not today. Tears are something for tomorrow. Right now, she has a job to do.

5th POV: Garrus

Why: Garrus was a member of the crew who wasn’t on the ship, which is a completely unique perspective. But the question that took me forever to answer, was, how does he react to Sam’s death? What was Shepard to Garrus? I hadn’t written about them during ME1 yet, he was not part of Sonata, and ME1 Garrus is always a little tricky for me. I knew there was something important to gain from his POV, but I couldn’t figure out what it was to the point of tearing my hair out. Eventually, I settled on Garrus seeing Shepard as a mentor he couldn’t live up to, and made his POV about failure and regret.  

How I used it: Shepard was everything Garrus aspired to be, but could never quite achieve. He left the Normandy because Shepard made him feel like he could make a difference, only he didn’t. And then, his friends needed him, and he wasn’t there, and now Shepard is dead. I wove a lot of doubt, regret and self-deprecation into his POV to drive that home.

Excerpt:

Dammit, why hadn’t he stayed on that ship?

He grabs another report from the top of the pile on his desk, which is getting tall enough to sway in the breeze.

This is why. Because Saren had obliterated the Citadel, and Shepard, damn him, had made him believe he could make a difference. He thought he could make it here. Crazy thing, having to fill out a form every time you find a corpse. He’s got three more to add to the list after today.

6th POV: Anderson

Why: Anderson was both a father figure and commanding officer to Sam. Because he’s known him for most of his life, he has a perspective no other POV character has. To him, Sam was more like a son he’d been tasked to protect, and in the end failed to protect him. He and Kaidan are the only people who know Shepard well enough to mourn Sam, and not just Commander Shepard. Anderson would really let me start to explore grief.

How I used it: This was my heavy hitter. Through Anderson’s POV, I could trace Sam the person as he grew into Commander Shepard, and explore the echoes of the kid that still lived in the adult. I was also able to use Kaidan in a really fascinating way. In Opus, Kaidan and Sam served together for four years before the Normandy. Therefore, Anderson is pretty familiar with him, but doesn’t know him the way he does Sam. He keeps looking at Kaidan expecting Sam. In a sense, trying to plug a puzzle piece into the wrong hole. It was a neat way to show Anderson’s grief.

Additionally, this was a great opportunity to demonstrate Kaidan’s sense of loss without being in his head. Anderson does not know there was a relationship between Sam and Kaidan, but the reader does. Thus, I could have my cake and eat it, too: The POV character wasn’t examining the relationship that had been lost between Sam and Kaidan because he didn’t know it existed, but the reader got to.  

Excerpt:

He exhales through his nostrils. “The Normandy was attacked by an unknown vessel. Whoever they were, Joker says they came out of nowhere. Shepard got him into the escape pod, but the ship lost gravity. He…well.”

Alenko stares straight ahead, silent. Anderson looks for a tell, but he only knows Shepard’s.

Alenko isn’t Shepard.

7th POV: Tali

Why: Tali presented a similar problem to me that Garrus did. What was Shepard specifically to her, and what did his loss mean to her? As my closing POV, not only did she need to hit a home run, but she also needed to close out the chapter in a way that tied all the other POVs together and examined Shepard’s death through a much wider lens, without feeling like I was pulling the camera back from her POV to get there. That’s a lot to ask. Lucky for me, Tali never lets me down.

The answer I came to also called back to Sonata, in which exploring what home meant to each of the characters was an important theme. So I went back to this idea for Tali, as she and Sam had a very important thing in common that set them apart from everyone else: they were both born in space, and did not have the traditional fixed point of home that everyone around them had. Home was different to them than it was to everyone else.

How I used it: Tali was the only one left who understood how truly unique and special the home she’d found on the Normandy was. Therefore, when the crew starts to fragment and fall apart around her, she is forced to mourn the loss not only of Shepard, who gave her that home, but the home itself. I was able to use that grief to circle back to how much Shepard changed the people around him, and how deeply his loss will be felt in ways people haven’t even realized yet.

That conclusion was the magic final puzzle piece that made the whole thing work, and it was literally the last idea to take shape.

Excerpt:

Aliens don’t carry their ship names with them the way quarians do. Perhaps when you’re born with dirt under your feet you don’t need to. For them, home isn’t a vessel among the stars – it’s a fixed place in the universe, a way back no matter how far from it you venture.

But Shepard had been different. Like the quarians, he had no fixed point. Home was what – or who – he carried with him. He’d understood the power of a ship name, even if he hadn’t used one out loud. People who served with Shepard felt like they belonged, in ways they couldn’t anywhere else, because he said to hell with that fixed point in the galaxy and brought home to anyone who needed it. For Shepard, there wasn’t a way back. Just a way forward.

Shepard changed people.

They’ve lost so much more than a ship.

The primary objective of Opus is to examine the relationship between Sam and Kaidan, but to really understand the magnitude of Sam’s death, it was critical to explore it outside the confines of that relationship. Part of the struggle Sam and Kaidan have is that Sam doesn’t truly belong to himself or to Kaidan – he belongs to everyone else. That means his death doesn’t belong to either him or Kaidan. It’s shared with all the people he touched and shaped.

That’s what made this carousel of POVs a challenge I really wanted to make work. It required an absurd amount of juggling, but the diversity and uniqueness of each made Shepard’s loss feel real and devastating. But not only did each of those POVs tell us something about Sam, they provided some meaningful character development for the POV character. How they react to Sam’s death and what it means to them tells us a lot about that character, which in turn lends the entire story more depth.  

If you read this far, I’m pretty sure you deserve a cookie. 

I don’t know if any of that is helpful or meaningful other than to show an example of how POVs can be a really awesome tool to tell a story. There can be a lot of depths and layers to why you use a particular character to tell a story through, and those choices can greatly impact the story you end up telling.

[phoxphyre]

In honor of the gorgeous Snowbaz Pride & Prejudice art from @laeve-leve--and because it’s looking like it’s still going to be a while before I finish and start actually posting this thing--I’m going to do something a bit different for WIP Wednesday and post an entire scene. 

I’ve posted bits and pieces of this before, but here’s my version of the 2005 P&P rain proposal scene.  

Tagging @super-duper-twelve (for encouraging me to keep writing in the middle of a crazy month), @captain-aralias, @flammable-grimm-pitch, @otherworldsivelivedin, @nightimedreamersworld, @palimpsessed, @wetheformidables, @ninemagicks​, @aristocratic-otter​, @sharkmartini​ and anyone else who wants to share! 

~~~~~~

Once in the park Simon summoned the Sword of Mages and swung it viciously, slicing the heads off of flowers and cutting new pathways into the spring grass. His mother would reproach him for using it for something so trivial—but after all, she was not here.

When the skies at last poured open Simon bent his head back and stood staring up into the clouds.  

“Perfect,” he said.

He was soaked to the skin within moments. He strode onwards; something about the weather matched his mood.

“Her family,” Simon said viciously.

It was impossible that Mr. Pitch could have meant anyone other than Shepard and Penny. He was hardly surprised that Mr. Pitch had opposed the match, but he had believed Miss Wellbelove the chief architect of their separation. To learn that Mr. Pitch was the cause, that his vanity and pride were the cause of all that Penny had suffered—that she continued to suffer—

Simon decapitated a hapless daisy. Mr. Pitch had ruined the hope of happiness for the best person Simon knew—the person who had saved him when he had lost everything.

“‘There were very strong objections against the lady,’” Simon bit out. What were the objections? That she had one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who was in trade?

Mr. Pitch could not possibly have objected to Penny herself. She was perhaps somewhat irregular in her way—but also sharp as a blade, a talented magician, on her way to becoming a brilliant magickal scholar. She was exactly the type of person Mr. Pitch should respect. Nor was there anything to object to in their mother.

His father and siblings, on the other hand…but no, that could not possibly be the reason. It was all vanity; Mr. Pitch must object to their lack of connections, their want of wealth. And perhaps Simon’s own bastardy.

Simon swung at a stump; the sword stuck in the wood, and he had to use two hands to pull it out. Even the cold felt good: the act of driving his body to escape the tyranny of his mind.

Simon broke free of the trees and found himself on a long lawn. To his left it sloped down to a picturesque pond, all surrounded by willows weeping into the gray water; to his right it climbed to a ridiculous Grecian folly, the kind of thing that rich people planted on their lands when they grew tired of hedge mazes. The rain pounded down, stronger here without the trees to shield him. He broke into a run, less to escape the rain than to feel the blood pumping through his body.

The folly was little more than four columns reaching to the sky with a marble floor and a rounded wall on one side; it was roofless, and once within the columns Simon tipped his head up again, drinking in the rain. He felt hot with rage, as if his anger might overflow his body and run down the hill like the rain.  

Then, without warning, there was the tap of riding boots against marble—and suddenly Mr. Pitch was there.

For a moment they stared at each other. He was as wet as Simon, his hair plastered to his skull. Water ran from the ends of his hair and tracked down his cheekbones like tears.

“Simon,” Mr. Pitch said. Through his anger Simon saw that his eyes were the color of the pond. The storm washed everything about him grey-green; he might have been the statue of an angel carved from the same rock as the columns.

“I—” he said. And then he took two steps forward, pressing Simon back into the stone of the wall, and crushed Simon’s lips against his.

For a moment Simon was frozen, too surprised to resist. He felt the cold stone against his hips, the cold rain running between their two faces. Against his will his hand came up and wound itself into the hair at the back of Mr. Pitch’s neck. Somehow he had already known how it would feel, soft as down under the pads of his fingers. His mouth opened; Mr. Pitch’s lips were gentle on his, even as his body pushed Simon’s into the stone. Simon could feel him down the whole length of his body, warm where he blocked Simon from the rain.

Then Simon’s hands came up; he placed both palms against Mr. Pitch’s shoulders and pushed him away, hard. Mr Pitch stumbled back a few paces; he raised his hand to touch his lips.

“What. The hell,” Simon spat.  

“Simon,” Mr. Pitch said. “I have struggled in vain. It will not do.” He took a step forward. “I came to Hampshire to see you—” He shook his head, the wet ends of his hair whipping past his face. “I had to see you.”

Simon could only stare at him.  

“I’ve fought against my family’s expectations, my better judgement, the lowness of your birth—my rank and circumstance…” His voice hitched. “All of it. I know any connection between us must be reprehensible. But I must put those considerations aside and ask you: please, end my agony.”

Simon had never seen that expression on his face, had never imagined that face capable of making such an expression: open and yearning, as if all of his walls had fallen and the gates thrown open.

“I love you,” said Mr. Pitch. “Most ardently.”

Simon made a noise, halfway between horror and mad laughter. “You love me?”

Mr. Pitch extended his hand, pale in the darkness of the storm. Rain ran down the curves of his fingers and pooled in his palm. “Believe me, I wish I did not. It is ridiculous—unthinkable. But I do.”

Simon stared at the hand and did not take it. “It is ridiculous to love me?” he said slowly.

“Yes,” said Mr. Pitch. He sounded relieved that Simon had understood so quickly. “But here we are. So I must beg you to accept my hand.”

“You have a strange way of begging,” said Simon.

“What?”

“I am sorry if your—passion has been difficult for you,” Simon said. “But no. No.”  

He watched Mr. Pitch’s face close as he spoke, the gates swinging shut and the walls fortified.  

“So you are refusing me?” Mr. Pitch said coldly. He withdrew his hand, wiped it on his coat, and placed it in his pocket.  

“Yes.” Simon could not help the bite in his voice. “But as you have so little esteem for me, I hope you will recover quickly.”

“Might I inquire why I am thus rejected?”  

“I am surprised you need to inquire, after telling me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character.”

“I did not mean—”

“You should thank you me for saving you from such a terrible fate,” said Simon. “In any case, did you think I would marry the man who has ruined the happiness of my dearest friend? My sister?”

Mr. Pitch paled further. The rain fell between them like a veil.

“Can you deny it?” Simon demanded. He stepped forward, thrusting his chest forward, forcing Mr. Pitch back a step.

“I have no wish to deny it,” said Mr. Pitch. Simon searched his face for regret and found none: only pride and bitterness. “I did everything in my power to separate Shepard from your sister, and I rejoice in my success. I have been kinder to him than myself.”

“Why?” Simon demanded. He put his hands against Mr. Pitch’s shoulders again and shoved, pushing him back. “How could you do it?”

“I believed she was indifferent to him.”

“She danced with him! She laughed with him!”

“She argued with him! Continually!”  

“For Penny, that is love!” Simon snarled. “She was supposed to show her true feelings? You will not even show your true feelings when you find your mother’s journals!”

Mr. Pitch stumbled back another step, away from Simon’s hands. “And I suppose you despise me for what I am as well?”

“No! I would never—”

“After all, why would you tie yourself to a dark creature?” Mr. Pitch said bitterly. “Even when it would save yourself and your family.”

“Yes, it is always about money, with people like you. I suppose you think Penny was hungry for Shepard’s fortune?”

“I would never do her the dishonour. Although it was made clear that an advantageous marriage—”

“Did Penny give that impression?”

“No! But there was your family—”

“My family. What was it—our want of connection? My bastardy?”

“It was the lack of propriety shown by your father, your younger siblings—even your mother on occasion.” He looked away. “Forgive me.”  

“Oh? Is that all? And what about Mr. Lamb?”

“Lamb?” Mr. Pitch said blankly.  

“What excuse can you give for what you did to him?”

“You certainly take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns.” The earlier openness had been entirely wiped away; Mr. Pitch’s face showed only anger now.

“How could I help it, once I knew of his misfortunes?”

“Oh, yes, his misfortunes,” Mr. Pitch said savagely.

“You were the one who reduced him to poverty, and yet you mock and ridicule him.”

“So this is your opinion of me!” cried Mr. Pitch. He paced from one side of the folly to the other, his steps quick and angry. “This is the estimation in which you hold me! Thank you for explaining it so fully.”

Suddenly he was before Simon again, having moved too quickly for Simon’s eyes to follow. It was so inhuman a motion that Simon could not help himself; he shrank away, as one shies from a snake. Mr. Pitch’s eyes narrowed.

He thrust his face into Simon’s, almost spitting now. “But you might have overlooked all of this, if I had not injured your pride—if I had lied and flattered you.” He raised a hand, and Simon thought for a moment that he would strike him. Simon put his hand over his hip, wondering if he could summon his blade quickly enough to prevent Mr. Pitch from killing him.

But Mr. Pitch was already dropping his hand, turning away. “I refuse,” he said. “I will not lie to you. I abhor disguise of every sort.”

Simon grabbed his arm, preventing him from moving away. The skin was cold beneath his fingers and slippery from the rain. “You have been lying from the moment you met me,” he said. He yanked at Mr. Pitch’s arm, wrenching it in its socket. “All you are is disguise! And there is nothing you could have said to make me consider your offer.”

“Simon—”

“My name is Mr. Snow,” Simon spat.

Mr. Pitch tried to wrench his arm from Simon’s grasp, but Simon held on doggedly. “I’ve known it from the first moment met,” he said. “You are the last person in the world I could ever marry.”

Mr. Pitch’s arm was still in Simon’s grip, so instead he leaned in, his face a breath away from Simon’s. “Are you quite finished?” he said coldly.  

This close, Simon could see the rings of colour in Mr. Pitch’s eyes, all the hues of the sea. He could feel Mr. Pitch’s breath on his face. He loosened his grip, and Mr. Pitch’s arm slid from his fingers.

“You have said quite enough, sir,” Mr. Pitch said. “I perfectly comprehend your feelings.” He turned to go; his boots made a dull plashing in the puddles gathering on the stone floor.

“I have now only to be ashamed—” his breath hitched, and Simon watched his shoulders rise and fall. “Of what my own have been.”

He looked back over his shoulder, his voice full of venom.

“Forgive me, sir, for taking up so much of your time.”

He strode from the folly. A moment later Simon heard the sound of hooves, pounding away.  

[sxypigeon]

Shepard is done with everyone's bullshit

Chapter 2 of An Extra Extended Ending

Summary: Because I hated the ending of the third Mass Effect game so much, I made my own with black jack and hookers. FemShep x Liara with damn near every character is the third game making an appearance.

Chapter 1

***

“How long until communications can reach beyond Sol?”

“It’s unclear,” the asari comm technician said hesitantly; the hum of the ship's electronics seemed to grow in the silence. “Quantum communication seems to be unsalvageable. That just leaves the Sol relay, but our latest reports indicate it sustained damage from the firing of the crucible.”

Sparatus sighed heavily and closed his eyes; this was a hollow victory until he knew the fate of Palaven. “Is there anyone working on it now?”

“No, sir. Those reports only came in minutes ago.”

“What about the team working on the crucible?” Tevos asked. “The brightest minds in the galaxy would have the best chance of fixing it – the sooner the better.” The asari councilor paced around a circular display in the middle of the CIC of the Destiny Ascension looking every bit as impatient as her turian colleague.

“They may be able to, but there is another group we would be foolish to ignore,” Valern muttered quietly, staring at the three dimensional screen, watching the number of surviving ships increase slowly as communication was reestablished ship-by-ship.

“What are you . . .” A look of alarm crossed Sparatus’ face. “No,” the turian said stiffly as he pushed himself away from the display.

“Is it really that terrifying of an idea? It’s only a matter of time before the geth come back online. If we act soon, we may be able to keep our alliance with them intact, maybe even strengthen it.” The salarian folded his arms across his chest and eyed Sparatus intently.

He narrowed his eyes. “Or they may turn on us the moment they realize they have nothing more to gain from our alliance. It’s one thing to cooperate when there is no choice, but what would be their incentive now?”

Valern shook his head condescendingly. “The geth are not as shortsighted as you think.” He brought up the pre-fight fleet numbers. “If even a fraction of their troops survived, it would be in their best interest to repair the relays,” he stated firmly, pointing at the image. “They value knowledge above all else and what better source is there than the relays?”

“This isn’t the first time we’ve come in contact with an AI species. There is too much at risk,” Tevos said quietly from across the room. “If we act quickly-”

“We’ll what? Destroy all of the units in Sol?” Valern shouted over the asari councilor. “How many more do you think are out there? We’d be risking another war - one we are ill prepared for.”

“And you want to send them to work on the relay?! What happens when they acquire the knowledge they seek? What’s to stop them from using it against the rest of the galaxy?” Sparatus marched back to the display and brought up images of the Citadel attack nearly four years earlier. “This is what will happen. They have no use for organics. They made that abundantly clear!”

The salarian councilor shook his head in frustration. “We know how persuasive the Reapers can be and yet even after being attacked by the quarians and being on the verge of annihilating them, they agreed to a truce. These are not simple machines, Sparatus!”

“Why are you so convinced?” Tevos asked suspiciously. She walked slowly around the display toward him. “You were vocally against curing the genophage, why is this different?” She fixed on him with a penetrating stare. “What aren’t you telling us?”

Valern scoffed at the accusation. “I see I’m alone in my conviction. What more can I say to either of you?” With a last impatient glare at his colleagues, the salarian turned and strode from the room. “If not as an act of the Council, then as an act of the salarian people, the geth will be brought back online!” he called back as the door closed behind him.

A tense silence followed Valern and lingered long after he left. “Do we even know if any of the science team is still in Sol?” Sparatus asked quietly while bracing himself on the terminal in front of him.

“No, but we will know soon enough,” she said before sending out the call for help.

***

Spirits, it’s a miracle she survived, the head nurse thought as he wheeled the patient out of surgery. At least it’s a bit of good news . . . Sure could use a bit more, though.

A sea of medics split to allow the turian and human through the bustling ward. Endless lines of beds on either side of the walkway were filled with too many injured, too many that would not last the next twenty-four hours. That’s not- No, I can’t think like that. There’s too much to do to focus on something so trivial. You’re in charge of this ward, damn it! You have lives to save. . .

He squeezed the gurney between two others and began setting up IVs and monitoring equipment. I need to make my rounds soon. We should be getting another shipment of refugees from the Citadel soon- He froze and stared at the patient. She’s not supposed to be waking up yet! “Ma’am, can you hear me?” he asked, staring down at her.

The woman drowsily blinked for a moment before lifting her eyes and focusing on the turian . . . and letting out a sudden, terrified scream. “AHHHH!!!”

Damn it, not again. “Ma’am, it’s okay. You’re aboard the Destiny Ascension.” Another blood-curdling scream. “Ma’am, you’re safe! You were injured-”

“Hey! That’s enough!” Both quickly looked over to the next bed and saw the occupant giving them a stern glare. “I know turians are ugly, but you’re going to make the guy self-conscious if you keep up the screaming.”

The woman stared, gaping at the other patient, long enough for the nurse to inject a sedative into her IV. “There you go, ma’am. Just relax.” They watched tensely as the woman quickly sank bonelessly back into her pillow. Finally. I’m not going to live this down any time soon, he thought as other orderlies snickered as they passed.

“So, who do I need to talk to to get out of here?” the other patient asked after a moment.

“Myself,” he said as he finished setting up the sleeping woman’s monitoring equipment. “Is there somewhere you need to be?”

“I figured you could use another empty bed.”

“What I need is for my patients to recover sufficiently, regardless of how much they think otherwise.” He walked over to the patient and looked at her chart. Human female, numerous serious burns, deep puncture wound to the right side, three fractured ribs – well this just goes on and on. “How are you feeling, ma’am?”

“Fantastic,” she said dryly inspecting the bandages on her hands and arms. “The pain meds wore off a while ago – No! No, I’m not asking for more.”

“If you need them-”

The patient shook her head. “I’m okay. I just,” she paused for a moment and chose her words carefully, “I need to be doing something. I can’t just lay here and – and think. Just give me a once over before you make me stay . . . please.”

He recognized the quiet desperation in her voice and the pleading in her eyes. “Fine.” With a healthy amount of skepticism, the turian gently unwrapped the bandages on her left arm. That can’t be right- He checked the chart again. How the hell? Humans aren’t supposed to heal this quickly. This is more in line with a krogan . . . maybe even faster.

“It’s not pretty, but it’s still better than it was before,” she said quietly, examining the slightly inflamed skin.

“Remarkable is what it is.” He unbandaged the other arm and stared in numb disbelief. “There has to be some sort of mistake in your chart-”

“I think you’ll find my side is sufficiently healed as well.”

The nurse met her piercing stare before pulling back the blanket and lifting her hospital gown. Spirits . . . this is incredible, he thought after removing the gauze. “How is this possible? Even if you spent the last six hours in a vat of medi-gel, you wouldn’t be able to heal this quickly.”

“I’m not exactly a normal human.” The ward around them moved on, unaware of the medical anomaly the head nurse was observing. “So what do you think?” she asked hesitantly.

I think the galaxy needs to study you, but . . . you don’t belong in the ICU. “I can see no justification for keeping you here, but we’re going to need to get you fed and cleaned up before you can go anywhere.” He noted the change in her status in her chart, shaking his head in disbelief as he did. “I’ll send someone over with a meal.”

“Thank you.”

He turned to leave but stopped, hesitating a moment. “Ma’am . . . everything you’ve done – everyone you’ve saved . . . there aren’t words strong enough to convey the gratitude we – I feel toward you. Thank you, Commander.”

The soldier nodded numbly, not meeting his eyes.

But it never feels like enough, he thought sadly. Stay strong, Shepard. I fear we may need you now more than ever.

***

“-he’s going-”

“No, it’s-”

“Where-”

A sharp radiating pain drilled between the exhausted asari’s eyes as distant voices became clear. “It all looks fine, no permanent damage. You are cleared for duty.”

Dr. Chakwas, the med bay. . . the crash. . . Shepard. . .

“Liara? Can you hear me?”

With an enormous effort, she opened her eyes. “Yes,” she rasped out. Her throat was so dry.

“How are you feeling?”

“Not at all well.” She rolled onto her side trying to lessen the pain.

“This should help.”

Something wonderful flowed through her veins, dulling the agony. “Where are we?” she asked tentatively.

“Armstrong nebula, but beyond that no one is sure. They say the planet is habitable though, with a breathable atmosphere and a comfortable gravity.” She helped Liara sit up and handed her a bottle of water. “Finish this and then get some rest.”

She gulped it down gratefully as worry began to sink in. “Do you know what happened to us?”

“Not really,” the doctor admitted. “Whatever that energy field was, it left no physical trace other than several cases of acute epistaxis – nosebleed.” She handed Liara another bottle of water. “Your case was a bit worse, likely due to trying to help the engineers restart the core for over an hour with your biotics.”

Liara sighed tiredly, staring at the bottle, “Not that it did any good. Have we been able to reach anyone back in Sol?”

“I’m afraid not. Specialist Traynor thinks the quantum communication network is beyond repair. We will have to rely on the relays and hope someone is out there to hear us.” The doctor let her cheery façade slip for a moment, long enough to hint at the extent of the worry she was trying to hide. It slid back into place as Chakwas laid a hand on Liara’s shoulder. “Get some rest, I’ll wake you if anything changes.”

But will it ever? she thought as she stared up at the ceiling, feeling the numbing darkness pull her back under.

***

“This has got to be the most confusing hell-hole I’ve ever been to.”

“What’s so confusing about it, Mr. Vega?” Steve Cortez asked as he finished his lukewarm MRE.

“It’s not the layout or anything like that – it’s the people.” Vega pushed himself gingerly off the cot on the floor of a mostly intact office building and pulled the bottle of water from the shuttle pilot’s hands. “Thanks, Estaban. It’s like no one can tell what they’re supposed to be feeling,” he muttered, flexing his injured leg.

Cortez took back his water and scanned the area. Roughly five miles from where the beam had been in central London, a small outpost had been hastily established to tend to the injured. Understaffed and undersupplied, it was not a place of miraculous medical operations, but a last-ditch effort to save as many survivors as possible – including James Vega. “After months of hopelessness, there is plenty to be thankful for . . . and just as much to mourn for.”

“It just feels – shit, I don’t know. Maybe it’s all of that blood I lost on the trek over here, but this just feels wrong. Javik, what’s your read on the situation?”

The prothean did not move from his meditative stance across the room. “Your species celebrates prematurely and mourns before the heaviest of losses are counted.” He paused for a moment before bowing his head slightly, “But even with these flaws, it is your cycle that stopped the Reapers – whether for good or just temporarily. That is more than what can be said of my cycle.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Vega said tiredly. “Do you think – what set off the crucible?”

A sad smile pulled at Cortez’s lips, “Until I hear otherwise, I’m going to believe Shepard did.”

“I’m okay with that,” the lieutenant said as he laid back down. He was out within minutes.

“How is the human krogan?” Javik asked without moving.

Cortez rubbed his face roughly as he tried to shake the melancholy brought on by the thought of Shepard. “The medics think he’ll make it.”

“Good, our efforts dragging him here were not in vain,” the prothean said sternly. “Do not lose your determination – the fight may be over, but your people will need you and Vega.”

“That goes for you too, Javik. You’re one of us now. We aren’t about to forget what you’ve done to help us.”

Javik bowed his head in acknowledgement, but remained silent.

We’re going to need everyone, Cortez thought as he stared around the room at the other cots filled with injured soldiers. I just hope there’s enough of a galaxy left worth rebuilding.

***

“So what you’re saying is we’re screwed.”

“Not entirely,” Tali said hesitantly as Garrus and Williams stared up at the motionless mass effect core in despair. “What we’re saying is that it will take a while, a few weeks at least.”

“Assuming it’s fixable at all,” Williams said skeptically.

“I’m not saying it will be easy, Commander,” Adams said calmly, “but I think we’ll be able to get it up and running again.”

“That’s better than nothing,” Garrus offered.

Williams took a breath and nodded. “Okay, I’ll inform the crew,” she said before heading to the elevator.

“How is she doing?” Daniels asked as they all stared back at the core.

“She’s managing,” Garrus said quietly. “She still doesn’t know if she can fill the void Shepard left, but she knows she has to.”

“No one can replace Shepard, but that wasn’t ever the plan was it?” Tali asked.

“No, but it’s going to feel that way for a while – at least until we get a rhythm going,” Donnelly said. “Any luck with EDI?”

“Not yet.” Garrus headed toward the elevator. “I’ll let you know if we make contact with anyone. Let us know if there’s anything we can do topside.”

***

“Watch the right flank!” Grunt roared over the gunfire. He and his men were deep in the wards flushing out and dispatching Cerberus troops. “Take out that engineer!”

It was slow, grueling work. Street by street, building by building, the enemy was steadily falling back. They’d even managed to save a few civilians. It wasn’t their primary goal, but it did give him a sense of pride knowing he prevented someone’s death by causing another’s.

“Move up!” They were meeting fewer and fewer troops until recently, not that it bothered him. What worried him was the number of engineers they’d come across in this neighborhood. Something was brewing.

“Keep an eye out for explosives and turrets,” he growled as the last enemy fell. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

The squad moved carefully from the courtyard to the building interior. No resistance, no one at all. What are we missing? Cowards, where are you hiding?

“Let’s get out of here,” he ordered before they’d finished securing the building. “Double-time it!” This smells like a trap.

“What was that?!” one of his men yelled as the building shook violently.

Shooting out a window, Grunt bellowed, “Get out of the building NOW!” His men leaped from the window three stories up. The krogan commander followed and landed hard on the walkway below just as the building collapsed. “Those damn cowards,” he growled. “They’ll have to do better than that!”

***

I can’t wait to get off of this fucking ship. At least the food is decent – I am beyond sick of MREs. Jack checked her omni-tool for the fourth time in five minutes. What the hell is taking so long?

After arriving with an unconscious Shepard, she watched uneasily as her friend was wheeled away to surgery. The next hour was a blur of confusion, exhaustion, and anxiety. At some point she’d managed to sleep for a few hours. Now she was an irritable and short tempered ball of energy, desperate to get back to Earth and her kids.

“Keep that up and people will think you’re unbalanced,” a soft voice said behind her.

“Fuck you,” Jack said with a hint of relief. “I can’t believe they let you out. I mean – you still look like shit.”

“Thank you, Jack. You always know how to cheer me up.” Shepard sat next to the biotic with her protein bar and electrolyte drink. “What’s going on?”

“Who the fuck knows?” She stared at the table in front of her. “No communication outside of the system, Grunt is still securing the Citadel, still no word on my kids or the Normandy.”

“Earth?”

“Bits and pieces. Nothing yet on your boys in London.” She watched Shepard eat mechanically, stoic to the lack of information.

“I have to meet with the council and then after that, hopefully we can catch a shuttle back to London.”

“When’s the meeting?”

“Whenever I feel like it.”

About damn time you started telling those spineless fuckers where they can shove it. She stared at the softly glowing scars on her face and neck. Someone hasn’t been thinking happy thoughts. “So are we going to dick around here for a while to piss them off?”

She shook her head after she finished the last of the meal. “There are a few things I need to say before they start another victory tour. I’m going to need you there to keep me in check.”

A small snort of laughter escaped Jack, “You’re shitting me, right?”

Shepard stood and gave her a tight smile. “Let’s just say I’m a little short on patience at the moment.”

“Well, shit. I might have to film this.” She followed the commander with a sinister grin. “Let’s go make some councilors cry.”

***

“I don’t know what else there is to try,” Traynor said tiredly. “My expertise is on a smaller scale. I don’t know how to fix a comm problem on a galactic scale!”

Williams leaned on the terminal that had been Shepard’s in the CIC. “A galactic scale? What does that mean?”

The comms specialist ran her hands through her hair. “There are a couple of possibilities. First, we are the only survivors and that is why we haven’t reached anyone-”

“Let’s not go with that possibility.”

“Okay. Second, something is actively blocking our communications – natural or otherwise.”

“Reapers blocking communication,” the lieutenant commander said stoically.

“Or third, the mass relays are not functioning properly, due to damage or complete destruction.”

“From the crucible firing.” The CIC was silent as Williams contemplated the scenarios. “And none of these can be fixed while we’re stuck here.”

“No, ma’am.”

What are we supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?! Damn you, Shepard. It should be you here not me. “Let’s focus on the small scale then. What can we do to get the Normandy space worthy again?”

Traynor stared at the nonfunctional galaxy map as she bit her lip. “There are still several systems that haven’t come online that should have by now. There’s the exterior damage and then there’s EDI.”

“What’s the status of EDI?”

“Completely unresponsive.”

“Shit,” Williams muttered. “Do we have any idea how to get her back up?”

Traynor was silent for a moment. “I have a few ideas, but I’m not sure if they’d do any good. When Dr. T’Soni feels up to it, I’d like to get her input.”

“She was still passed out in the med bay last I checked.” She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. “Do what you can to bring up the other systems – keep me updated.”

***

“How are you holding up?”

Joker looked away from the foliage surrounding the cockpit and saw Garrus approaching. “Great,” he said sarcastically. “Crashed the ship, cracked four ribs, and my girlfriend might be dead. How about you?”

“I’m alive, that’s more than I expected to be honest.” He dropped into the seat next to the pilot. “In large part thanks to you.”

The pilot looked away. “Yeah don’t get too gushy yet. We may have to start calling this place home even if we can get the Normandy off the ground.”

“If that’s the case,” Williams said as she approached, “then I think our first priority should be finding something growing out there that can be distilled before we run out of liquor.”

“Good to know we’re on the same page,” Garrus chuckled. “I don’t suppose we know if what’s growing out there is levo- or dextro-amino based.”

“If we distill it enough it shouldn’t matter,” Joker said, staring back out at the jungle. “No protein in pure ethanol.”

Williams shared a concerned look with Garrus before speaking behind the pilot’s chair. “I’ve been talking to Traynor – she has some ideas on how to bring EDI back. Once Liara is up and about she and Traynor can start working on her.”

Joker continued staring out of the window as if he didn’t hear her. “Okay,” he finally said quietly.

***

Finally, Tevos thought as Shepard stepped through the open door. She looks much better, but are her scars glowing? “Shepard, we were beginning to worry. Who is your companion?”

The Spectre stood at parade rest in front of the asari while her comrade remained near the door. “Jack, this is the council. Councilors Tevos and Sparatus, meet Jack – a teacher at Grissom Academy. She’s here to . . . keep an eye on me while I’m recovering.”

A snort of laughter escaped the other human as she folded her arms across her chest. Shepard always did keep strange company.

“May I inquire where the salarian councilor is?” Shepard asked soberly.

“Valern has decided he would be more comfortable aboard a salarian ship,” Sparatus said stiffly. “That is part of why we needed to speak with you.”

Tevos activated the display at the center of the room showing an image of the Sol relay, it’s rings fractured and stationary. “It would seem the relays were damaged when the crucible fired. We have many of the crucible scientists working to repair it, but there’s been discussion about whether other groups should be recruited to help.”

“Why would we not ask everyone to fix it?” Shepard asked with a slight edge to her voice.

“This is the most advanced technology in the galaxy,” the turian said briskly. “In the wrong hands, this knowledge could endanger all of us.”

“So who hasn’t been invited to the party, the salarians?”

“No, the geth.”

Shepard frowned as she mauled over the information. “The geth are still alive?”

“They were never alive to begin with, Shepard. At the moment all units are offline,” Sparatus said, staring at the display. “Valern thinks they can be activated and recruited to help with repairs.”

Shepard fought to keep her face neutral. “Why not ask for their help? From where I’m standing, it looks like we could use all the help we can get. Don’t forget the rachni, they’ve also been proven to be very capable and intelligent.”

How does she not see the risks associated with her ideas? “Are you listening to a word you’re saying, Shepard? With the galaxy weakened as it is, it would take very little to change the balance of power and throw us all into another war.” Tevos turned and began to pace. “Caution is needed now more than ever,” she said as she stopped in front of the Spectre.

Shepard closed her eyes and let out a slow breath – her scars seeming to brighten as she did. “Are you suggesting we sever the alliances that we – no, what am I saying? – that I forged to win this war-”

“There’s a difference between having an alliance and handing out loaded weapons that could be pointed back at us,” Sparatus interrupted.

Despite remaining still, the marine radiated anger, enough to make the armed guards perk up. “If you intend on backstabbing your allies, then yes you will have something to worry about.”

“Commander, your vision of the galaxy is naïve,” Tevos stated impatiently. “You of all people should know what the risks associated with-”

Shepard barked out a laugh, breaking her immobile stance. She shook her head in exasperation. “I’m sorry, Councilor, but I can’t buy into the idea that I’m the naïve one. How long do you think it will take for the galaxy to find out your people have been hiding the best preserved prothean beacon in existence? Do you honestly think you will be able to remain the superior race? If it’s any comfort, I don’t think you will have to worry about the rest of the galaxy, I think your own people will be the ones to tear down your species. How many thousands of years have the asari been lied to, Councilor? Was that a risk worth taking?”

Tevos clenched her jaw as she fought her own anger. “And do you honestly think the galaxy will be better off without our guidance? Will the geth lead the way to the future or will it be the humans?” she asked acidly.

“I’d like to see what the galaxy can do together,” she said evenly. “But we can’t do that if we start severing alliances without just cause.”

Sparatus leaned over the galaxy map. “Shepard, what you’re saying is inspiring, but you can’t protect the galaxy with idealism,” he said standing beside Tevos. “The asari government will have to answer for their crimes, but what the galaxy needs now is stability . . . and someone they can stand behind-”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Shepard spat. Behind her, Jack was muttering loudly about spineless politicians. “I’m not about to smile and assure the galaxy everything is fine,” she explained as she also leaned over the map, “while you screw them over when they’re not looking.” Shepard glared at Sparatus. “If that’s what’s expected of me as a Spectre then you’ll have to accept my resignation.”

“This isn’t a matter of right or wrong, Shepard!” he said with fire in his eyes. “This is about saving our galaxy and preventing a complete collapse of the community!”

Shepard took a step back and shook her head again. “A little honesty and accountability could go a long way, Councilor. We are all vulnerable, but we have an opportunity to make all of us stronger than we were before this war!” Shepard turned back to Tevos, “The galaxy will stand behind me regardless of if you want them to or not. The question is whether you’ll be standing with us or on your own.”

The drone of the ventilation system filled the room as Shepard turned and headed to the door. “How many billions died because of the decisions you’ve made?” she asked as she paused at the door. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to-” She turned to face them. “You had four years to prepare, but none of you did a damn thing. But this guilt doesn’t just belong to either of you, though. It’s just as much mine for not doing more, for not – for not-”

“Shepard, let’s go,” Jack said quietly.

“For the sake of the galaxy, I do hope there will be a change in the balance of power.” She followed Jack out of the room without a second glance.

“That went well,” the turian muttered tiredly. “If there’s nothing else, I too would like to be with my people.” He left without waiting for a reply.

The asari councilor remained unmoving long after they left, contemplating Shepard’s words and the fate of her race. Things will never be the same again . . .

***

“They have hundreds of civilians in the buildings ahead,” the krogan scout reported to Grunt.

The commander and his men were camped out in a maintenance tunnel roughly fifteen blocks away from the Cerberus stronghold. “What defenses will we face?”

“Portable barriers and too many turrets to count. A direct approach will be nearly impossible.”

Grunt narrowed his eyes and contemplated his next move. “It looks like we’ll be needing stealth then.” Several of his men shook their heads and growled impatiently. “Complain all you want, but I can promise you we’ll kill more of them this way. These tunnels run right under them. They’ll be dead before they know we’re there. Pack it up and move out!”

The tunnels, unfortunately, were never meant to fit a krogan. Crawling on their bellies single file, the soldiers pushed the lifeless bodies of keepers from their path. The tight space was making his men agitated, something Grunt struggled with just as much. Damn those Cerberus cowards. . .

As they progressed further, voices could be heard above them. “Get those turrets up now! We’ve lost sight of the Krogans and spotted a turian cruiser near the shopping center. Where are those mechs?!”

I’m going to enjoy this. Soon voices multiplied and words became blurred – the sound of dozens of footsteps echoed down the tunnel. We must be getting close. . .

The scout signaled and the squad branched off down the numerous side passages and waited. Time to finish this.

With an angry roar the krogans sprang from the tunnels. Cerberus troops too stunned to move were quickly cut down. “No more hiding!” Grunt followed after those fleeing from the chaos.

Thick clouds of smoke flooded the building he entered, blinding him. I can still hear you, still smell your fear. Staying low, he let out an angry growl and sprinted through the fog into the nearest shooting enemy, crushing him against the wall behind him. “Who’s next?!”

As he cleared the lobby of the building more gunfire was heard outside. Those aren’t my men . . .

Turians, and lots of them, were flooding the walkways, pushing Cerberus forces back faster. Grunt growled in annoyance as he moved to the next floor. Bastards are going to have this fight finished before it gets good!

***

“That is out of the question.”

“But, Dr. Chakwas-”

“Absolutely not.”

Traynor and Liara sighed in defeat under the doctor’s stern gaze. “Can we at least inspect Glyph to see if he can be brought online?” Liara asked impatiently.

“Only if you plan on doing it here in the med bay so I can keep an eye on you,” she said shortly. “I am completely serious about not using your biotics. Twenty-four hours and not a minute less.”

“Okay then,” Traynor said hesitantly, “we can at least brainstorm about what that energy wave was.”

Chakwas shook her head tiredly, “All of the symptoms were very mild and nearly identical: loss of consciousness, headaches, and nosebleeds.”

“All electronics were rendered useless, but chemical and biological systems remained mostly unaffected,” Liara muttered thinking of the glow stick Donnelly lit in engineering before the crash landing.

“It would have to have been something mostly inert to have passed through the entire ship, but leave little damage,” the comms specialist said thoughtfully as she pulled up a chair opposite Chakwas and T’Soni.

“But everything affected by it seems to be salvageable,” Chakwas said as she examined the crew’s medical logs since the crash.

“If it is inert, then there would have to have been a lot of it.” Liara shared a look with Traynor. “You’re thinking about a wave of dark matter, aren’t you? Like a dark matter EMP?”

“Neutrinos to be specific. Dark matter alone can account for ninety-five percent of a system’s mass. Neutrinos are only formed when something expending a lot of energy happens like a supernova or a nuclear reaction-”

“Or a relay firing?”

“It would seem like a logical jump,” Traynor said with some hesitation. “It’s been observed in very low levels after a ship has used a relay.”

“So, if that’s what it was then how did it drain nearly everything of potential energy?” Liara asked, letting her head fall into her hands.

“Liara?”

“I’m fine, it’s just a headache.”

“We’re stepping well past my area of expertise.”

The bay was silent for a moment as the women thought. “I do have one rather unsettling question,” Chakwas said calmly as she put down her notes. “If we can restore function to our omni-tools and maybe even EDI, could the Reapers also be restored – assuming of course that they were affected at all? Are they simply in a state of inactivation?”

The room fell silent.

“That would also be a logical leap,” Traynor said quietly.

***

Jack glared as their shuttle veered away from their intended destination. “Shepard, this doesn’t look like Earth.”

“No, it does not. Apparently we’re having a layover at the dreadnought up ahead.” Shepard felt a chill run down her spine as the small shuttle entered the cavernous hanger. I don’t think we’ll be leaving any time soon.

“That’s one hell of a welcoming party,” Jack muttered, eying the scores of armed soldiers assembling at the landing zone. “This normal procedure or are we just special?”

“We are special,” she sighed. The shuttle door opened with a hiss as Shepard exited. Immediately the soldiers came to attention and held a salute. I am not ready to be back to this.

A lone soldier marched briskly through the ranks of the others and stopped in front of Shepard with a crisp salute. “Welcome aboard, Staff Commander Shepard.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Shepard tried not to think about how much she didn’t want to be there as she returned the salute. “I asked to be taken back down to Earth. I’m a bit confused why I’m here.”

“If you’ll follow me, ma’am, Admiral Ahern will be able to answer all of your questions.”

Shepard came to a sudden stop. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you referring to Admiral Tadius Ahern of Pinnacle Station?”

“Yes, ma’am, I believe that was his previous assignment,” he said stoically as he turned and led them across the hanger.

“You want to fill me in on who this guy is?” Jack asked quietly as they neared the elevator.

“I may have . . . won the admiral’s apartment on Intai’sei in a bet a few years back.”

Jack shook her head a few times before finally saying, “Queen of the fucking girl scouts . . . Have you even set foot in the place?”

“Once,” she admitted as they entered the spacious lift. “I was a bit preoccupied with stopping a rogue spectre and his army of geth from wiping out the galaxy.” Shepard found herself syncing back up with the strict protocols usually practiced on larger ships, a long way from the casual atmosphere of the Normandy. What I wouldn’t give to be back there. . .

“Commander Shepard, it’s been a while,” the gruff admiral said as the group entered the combat information center.

“Yes it has, sir,” she said, saluting. “I see you still haven’t retired.”

“Can’t do that without a retirement home, now can I?” Ahern waited for his men to disembark before continuing. “This your protégé?”

Jack frowned, looking mildly insulted. “Hell, no.”

“She’s a friend,” Shepard said with a grin. “I don’t mean to sound rude, Ahern, but why the hell am I here?”

The older man chuckled and motioned them to follow him. “With Admiral Hackett beyond Sol and Admiral Anderson deceased – a great man, the galaxy is a worse place without him – I am the highest ranking officer. It’s my job to make the big decisions.”

Shepard nodded silently, her throat suddenly unbearably tight.

“I’ve been contacted by the salarian councilor,” he continued. “It seems he wants our help with a project.”

“I’m guessing it has to do with the geth,” Jack said dryly.

“That it does. Not long after the crucible fired and we restarted the systems on the ship, we began sending ships out to retrieve as many alliance fighters as we could before the poor bastards suffocated. Some of our ships also brought back geth fighters. I’m thinking we must have over a hundred of them in the hangar wherever we could find room.”

“Are any of them online?” Shepard asked. They came to a platform overlooking the entire CIC as well as one hell of a view of Earth from the enormous widows ahead of them.

“They weren’t initially,” he said leaning on the railing. “I had some of our techs try to jump start them, but it’s a slow process. We are able to bring up basic processes, though.” He paused, rubbing the stubble on his jaw. “The problem is what happens if we can’t bring them back online completely. And now I’ve got the salarians breathing down my neck demanding access to them, but I’m not entirely sure if their interest in them is honorable.”

Shepard stared out the windows at Earth, feeling a wave of grief washing over her. “You want to help them, but don’t trust the salarians.”

“Organic or not, they came to our aid. Hell, I’m thinking of commissioning a memorial for them in London,” he said wearily with a bit of humor.

“And that’s why I always liked you, sir.”

“That’s touching, but I was hoping for a bit more feedback than that.”

She closed her eyes and took a long breath before answering. “What I know is that the turians and asari would rather leave the geth as they are.” Shepard shook her head sadly. “I haven’t spoken with the salarian councilor since shortly after firing the crucible, but I think you have good reason to hesitate.”

“I should have kicked his ass while I had the chance,” Jack muttered. “The prick wouldn’t stop going on about how saving Shepard’s life was a waste of time.”

“What stopped you?” Ahern asked, grinning.

“I was too busy fixing his and everyone else’s fucking omni-tools.”

“Shame. So what is your official recommendation, Commander?”

“For now,” she said after a moment, “allow them hands-off access. Be open to consultations, but have your men continue to take the lead on this. I’ve never known Councilor Valern to offer assistance out of the kindness of his heart.”

“That is as good of a plan as any.” He signaled one of his men to meet them. “Lieutenant Riley will show you to the armory and also get you fitted for a set of armor. There’s no telling what the situation down there is like with most of the comms down. It was good seeing you, Shepard, and meeting your protégé. Stay safe.”

Jack flipped him off before following Shepard.

***

Notes: Thanks for reading! I planned on adding more, but I forgot this existed for a few years and then lost the second half of this chapter. I'll see if I can track it down. :P

[aimeelouart]

So I see you produce a lot of stuff (fics and art and ideas). Do you consume as well? Can you tell us some of your favourite fics or link to favourite fanarts etc?

That I do! I actually have something of an encyclopedic knowledge of the current body of FF7 fics on Ao3 because that’s...pretty much all I read over the summer (that’s a lie--FF7 fics were the ONLY thing I read over the summer). I’ll focus on FF7 here because it’s my current obsession but feel free to ask about other fandoms I post/write/have bookmarks for.

Top Fics that I would die for

1) The Best Laid Plans by Loralei_Dawson I cannot stress this enough. I would die for this fic. Cloud goes back in time but the process kind of scrambles his brain like an egg. He’s semi-aware of how absolutely insane he is, but also thinks he’s being perfectly rational while all the outside POVs are like “good god what the hell is going on with this child” as he unceremoniously installs himself in the Tower and repeatedly attempts to assassinate a baffled and concerned Sephiroth. Features Genesis the certified Cloud wrangler. I love it so much that I even made art for it

2) Terrorism and Anarchy by VarianN Cloud Strife is a badass motherfucker and this fic exemplifies that. He goes back in time to his cadet days and promptly yeets himself into the slums, much to Zack’s concern. He then proceeds to play a very amusing game of cat-and-mouse with the Turks and SOLDIERs by keeping them guessing about whether or not he’s the mysterious “CS Delivery” who’s exploding reactors left and right.

3) The Fifth Act by Sinnatious Cloud goes back in time (are you noticing a theme here?) and heals Genesis, but is unable to heal anyone else. He gets cornered into joining SOLDIER and kind of...wanders around in a vague haze completing missions and being forcibly befriended by the SOLDIERs? This poor boy needs a serious nap.

4) Angel in the Rafters by skadren (finally, an author who exists on Tumblr! ...that I can’t tag. Well then.) This one is in my bookmarks as “the one where Sephiroth is a possessive dumbass.” Cloud is also a dumbass. Everyone else is just along for the ride. Anyway, Cloud goes back, has wings, is around bby!Seph for a little while before getting slam-dunked back into his corporeal bby!Cloud body. A whole lot of shenanigans goes on as Cloud runs around avoiding Shinra and exploding reactors. Gen content is typically where my heart lives, but this one is Seph/Cloud (after they stop being MASSIVE DUMBASSES ABOUT IT >:I)

5) Son by @sheseesinthedark Am I biased toward this because she-sees is one of my co-authors on Saving Subject C? Surprisingly, no. She-sees is just massively talented at spinning up complexly interwoven narratives. Vincent goes back to rescue bby!Seph from the labs and raise him and OOF it is BEAUTIFUL. Things just keep escalating as what seems on the surface to be a relatively straightforward and simple narrative slowly becomes as complex and beautiful as a tapestry, all building toward a suspenseful zenith.

6) just be still with me by @rainbowcarousels

Excuse me how does this not have like 3,000 kudos??? ASGZC which started out as a cute and funny sort of get-together fic and then MORPHED into a masterful plot-driven fic. The characterization is just so delicious! I even made art for it.

7) N7 SOLDIER by @screamingvikings Actually you know what just go read literally everything by ScreamingVikings. She writes like (and is, iirc) a published author. N7 SOLDIER is, you guessed it, a crossover of Mass Effect and FF7 where Shepard ends up on Gaia post-ME3. Her Shep is delightful and I very much enjoyed watching that lady get really fucking offended at how Shinra runs its military.

8) Cadet Strife’s Adventures in the Big City by Munchkin47 Seph/Cloud soulmate AU that made me laugh so hard I literally injured myself. Cloud tries very hard to ignore Sephiroth after the revelation of their matching soul marks, but Sephiroth refuses to be ignored and recruits his friends into helping him seduce his hilariously avoidant soulmate.

9) The World that Never Will Be by @tocasia Kingdom Hearts/FF7 crossover (does that even count as a crossover considering Nomura’s fuckery? Whatever) that totally makes me ship Aqua/Sephiroth. They meet in the Realm of Darkness and everyone makes questionable decisions all over the place, honestly. But it’s so ridiculously well written and deserves WAY more love than it’s gotten so far.

10) Draw With Me by XpaperplaneX Cloud is in the labs with Seph and they basically adopt each other and become inseparable to the point that Cloud is with Seph in the OG plot while Zack is the protagonist. It’s really fucking cute okay. And also sad. But I love me some gen content.

11) Stick ‘em with the pointy end by @tyrantchimera All of AVALANCHE goes back in time...as tonberries. I think that’s all I really need to say to get you to go give this the amount of love it DESERVES. Prepare to laugh until you throw up.

12) Another Day, a New Dawn by MollyPollyKinz Zack is the one to go back in time here and he’s trying SO HARD but Angeal and the others cotton on pretty much immediately and are like “??? is he okay???” Spoilers: no. He’s not okay. I especially love Angeal in this one.

Ok I’ll stop myself at 12 recs. If you want more recs look at my bookmarks list! On Ao3! Most of them use my own tag system and have short summaries/commentary in the descriptions (except the ones I need to catch up on, oops!)

[nothisis-ridiculous]

Duplicity

An AU where Kaidan joins Cerberus for the events of ME2.

Chapter Seven: None of Your Damn Business

The world exploded in a bright blast of color and piercing sound that had him clawing for his ears. The nerves fired and radiated pain from his lower back secondary to the assault on his headspace. His skull would soon burst because of the pressure that welled up inside of the cavity—the pressure and noises from within distorting his world into blurs of shape and color. Namely, a concoction of blues, a familiar burst of color to any biotics. Moreso that it belonged to a certain biotic that he recognized by frequency alone.

Even if those biotics collided into him. Sending him ass over tea kettle and painfully into a crate behind him. Shields and barriers depleted from the head-on collision.

The scion went down, but another took its place, yanking the dazed vanguard from the ground. The cannon exploding at point-blank range into her torso. The Commander went limp, and her corpse tossed aside as the abomination lumbered forward.

Was her barrier up?

He prayed her barrier was up.

Not that his thoughts of her fate were ultimately helpful in the moment, the creature lumbered toward him. His shields tried to reactivate, and his biotics faltered, ebbing away with another painful kick to his temples. He could do nothing but scramble against the metal crate and hope it was distracted or his shields would reactivate in time.

The scion lumbered forward, he couldn't find a set of eyes to focus on. Between the bar piercing through his skull and the pain radiating from the left side of his body, he struggled to face this creature. His gun was off somewhere, knocked out of his hands on contact with a charging vanguard, and his biotics refused to budge still. The Commander's stunt wasn't so lucky this time.

The abomination shredded, bits of wiring and oddly cold flesh coating his front.

"Shepard!" Kaidan cried.

Luckily some of the incessant ringing had faded far enough that he could find Mary's body, pulling it into his lap. Clutching it tightly against him until he felt the faintest trickle of breath against his neck. It hadn't stopped a few premature tears.

"Alenko! Incoming!" Jacob screamed over his comm.

Kaidan raised a protective dome, preemptively swaying the insectoid machine that dropped from the sky. His other arm held Shepard against his chest, hoping the delayed deployment of medigel would not worsen her state. He wouldn't risk the creature descending upon them; it would spell the end for the injured party. Luckily it stuck to a smaller group somewhere behind him where he had initially come in. The other group wasn't on his list of priorities, and only Mary mattered at this moment- the shallow, almost imperceptible breaths that slipped out of her mouth.

It was almost enough to ignore the strain such a bubble put him under, especially after the duress of being slammed by a biotic train.

Something pounded against the barrier, forcing Kaidan to look up.

"Kaidan, we're clear," Garrus shook his talons, mandibles vibrating as the turian examined both of them, "she's-"

He wouldn't accept the placating notion, "alive."

Kaidan finally administered a dose of medigel, blessedly her breathing deepened, but she remained unconscious. Probably for the best. He moved to his feet, cradling the body in his arms, "Joker, we need a pickup stat!"

"Who died and made you-"

"Joker," Kaidan snapped.

"Aye, Aye Sir!"

The next interruption was a little more welcome, even if he could not salute.

"Make sure you visit the Citadel," Anderson said slowly, looking over the pair of them slowly. His pupil's narrowed, and the corner of his lip flickered downward, "humanity could use the return of a spectre. Try to keep her safe, Alenko."

"Aye, Aye Sir," Kaidan returned reflexively.

Anderson's eyebrows creased, his gaze leaving to watch the Normandy pull into view. A slow smile crawling across his features, "keep yourself safe as well. The Alliance will want their report on this."

Garrus spoke once the Councilor had moved out of view and earshot, "that could have gone a lot worse."

Kaidan eyed the turian, "yeah, I guess."

~~~

He waited patiently beside her cot, long past the time Shepard had been changed into something more breathable. But he still sat in full armour, the swelling of the left side of his body ignored in his watch. He recalled Chakwas asking, probably several times over, if he needed anything. But he refused it, refused to do little more than swipe at the dried blood beneath his nostrils.

This was a little pathetic, a little beneath him.

But he stayed. Worried.

Worried over a woman that would snarl at him for staying at her bedside.

"Kaidan," an icy voice snapped, "what the hell happened down there?"

"Coming from the woman that couldn't keep up," he huffed, rolling his eyes as he looked away from Miranda, "rich."

Miranda folded her arms, the weight of her glare heavy on the back of his head. But what could she say? Did he need to bring up the rumor that she had been stuffed into a closet? This mission had spiraled far out of control, it was only because of Anderson's fondness for Shepard that they walked out of there without irons. And that was the best-case, worst-case scenario. The Alliance would let them live, the Collectors had enigmatic plans for the kidnapped humans; he doubted it was kind.

"Look, it went bad- quickly. There's, there was nothing any of us could have done better," he sighed heavily, "intel was bad. We were caught with our pants down."

"That's not-"

"Besides, we know Shepard is particularly bullheaded," even when she's trying her damndest to hate you, Kaidan counseled.

"Fair enough," Miranda conceded, dropping an arm, "the Illusive Man wants to see you in the briefing room."

"Me?"

"You were the only Cerberus operative on the ground."

"Can't this wait?" flinching at the whine within his tone.

"Shepard won't go anywhere," she deadpanned.

Miranda would not ask twice. But Kaidan was in no hurry to answer his summons. Neither did it mean that he would take the time to change either, by the way the woman looked him up and down, he could tell how awful he looked. Standing up reminded him of how awful he felt. His balance was still off, and his head resumed a momentarily dull thumping. It would spell a migraine later. The entire left side of his body felt stiff and awkward, the soreness multiplying unpleasantly.

Eventually, he reached the briefing room, pausing before he got within range of the sensor. It wasn't his first meeting with the man, but each discussion had started and ended with the same kind of dread. Straightening his back, he stepped into the room to find the Illusive Man already awaiting him.

"Alenko, G-" the figure stopped, looking him at with a hint of disgust, "good work on Horizon. You proved to be a valuable asset."

Kaidan's arms folded, "yeah. Could have used better intel."

The Illusive Man's eyebrow raised. Taken back by the bite coming from the usually gentle biotic, but not enough to pull an honest reaction to the accusation.

"The Alliance members stationed on Horizon, how did you miss that one? They don't make a habit of sticking around in the Terminus Systems."

"I may have let it slip that Shepard was with Cerberus and that Horizon might be next," the hologram waved off casually after a drag from his cigarette.

Kaidan's eyes rolled, "so you used the human Councilor as bait?"

"I couldn't be sure he would be there personally, but it proved the Collectors are interested in anyone connected to Mary," he continued dismissively.

Rage coiled in his gut, how could he use that name so casually? After using her to lure in a Collector vessel? His assumption that Mary was a puppet seemed more accurate with each turn, "and about that... did you want her abducted? Great timing with having the shore party arrive just before the Collector attack. Did you see the ship lurking or had hoped they would show?"

"Kaidan," the inflection in the other man's voice grew dark, the butt of the cigarette flying off screen, "I wouldn't risk a several billion-dollar asset so lightly."

"You'll have to prove that one to me," Kaidan chuckled, "we got lucky. Lucky isn't going to cut it."

"Good thing I provided Shepard a team that cares so deeply about her well-being," the Illusive Man's tone caressed anger, "which frankly I worry about your attachment."

"That's none of your damn business!"

"It is my business when the two of you try and destroy my ship, and threaten the resources I have poured into defending humanity," he produced another cigarette, "I had doubts about you coming on this mission. So far collateral has remained minimal- I know the two of you are at odds. I'm only allowing you to stay because I know how much you are willing to sacrifice for her sake. Don't become a detractor from our mission, or I will personally see to it that you are removed."

Both men waited in baited silence; the hologram gave up first, "can I assume you will fall in line?"

"Yes, sir," the biotic hissed from behind his teeth.

"Dismissed."

~~~

Mary struggled to keep her back against the shuttered bay of the medical facilities, an arm pressed against a still tender torso. She had been assured the Illusive Man wasn't expecting her to stand at attention and that he expected her bedridden state. It would be a casual debrief. Casual her ass. She couldn't show him an ounce of weakness.

The Illusive Man sprung into being in the center of the medical bay, a slight smile playing across his lips, "I'm glad to see you survived the encounter with the Collector forces."

"The Reapers will have to try much harder than that to kill me," Mary smirked, "I thought they already learned that lesson."

The man returned a smirk, "they will think twice before attacking another colony. The Collectors will be more careful now, but I think we can find another way to lure them in."

"We have to make sure they don't abduct anyone else," she warned gently.

"I want the Collectors stopped for that very reason. That's why we're doing this, Shepard."

"A little by the seat of our pants, but yes."

The man's eyes narrowed, otherwise moving on as if the barb was silent, "I'm devoting all resources to finding a way through the Omega 4 relay. We have to hit them where they live. Your team will need to be strong... as will their resolve. There's no looking back."

The Illusive Man made sure he held her gaze, demanding every bit of her attention, "the same goes for you. Can I assume your past relationships will not impede our mission?"

"None of your damn business."

For the briefest of moments, he looked amused, "I was beginning to wonder when your temper would return. Here I thought Alenko would be the compliant one... if it affects the mission, better you should leave it behind. Unless you want that distraction removed."

Mary set her jaw hard, the narrowing of her pupils the one true sign of her feelings. Not that her feelings around the biotic were completely clear, to begin with. Obviously, she cared, proving that by how she rushed in blindly to save Kaidan. But in the same heartbeat, there was hesitation, a gnawing sense of betrayal to find him in league with Cerberus.

"Shepard, once you find a way through the Omega 4 relay to the Collector homeworld... there's no guarantee you'll return. To have any hope of surviving, you -and your entire team- must be fully committed to this alone."

"Let me worry about them. You just find us a way to the Collector homeworld," Mary fought a growl, her eyes moving to a noise outside the flickering image before her.

"I just want to be upfront about your odds. You''ll need everyone at their best," he threw done a spent butt, "I've forwarded three more dossiers. Keep building your team while I find a way through the relay. And be careful, Shepard. The Collectors will be watching you."

The image flickered away, leaving Mary to face the physical man in the room.

[ratsoh-writes]

Favorite pets for the main 5 bros?

This one was really easy so I’ll just do all of them! You’re welcome!

Sans: his pet rock obviously. If he didn’t have rocky, he would probably like some reptile like tortoise or a chameleon. Something slow and dry (so no turtles only tortoises)

Papyrus: he doesn’t care too much about animals, but if he ever had a pet, it would probably be something smart and energetic like a dog! A collie would be his preferred breed

Star: he’s definitely a dog person. He likes the tough looking breeds like Doberman pinchers and German Shepards. He’s already used to handling them working with the police force.

Honey: he would like something small cuddly. But not too small, he doesn’t want to loose it. I could see honey with a chinchilla or a bunny.

Red: both him and edge are cat people. I mean, doomfanger is the sweetest cat ever, how can you not love her. Red likes the big fluffy cats like Maine coons. Especially if they sit on his shoulders. He’ll proudly wear them like a scarf

Edge: cats duh. I know it’s stereotypical but it just fits him perfectly. He already has a cat named doomfanger (who’s a very pretty kitty btw). If he got another one, he’d prefer a talkative breed like rag doll or Siamese

Mal: he likes fish and already has a whole tank of them. They’re freshwater fish, and his favorite is a little eel named Doris. He would love to have a koi pond someday

Cash: he would like a small friendly animal he could just carry around. I could see him with pet rats. He would probably teach them tricks too, like bring me that pencil kind of tricks. (Rats are awesome pets)(I plan on getting some when I move)

Oak: he loves all animals and all animals love him. It’s just one of the natural laws of the universe. That being said, oak doesn’t have any preference but he does own like 23 chickens (and a chihuahua but she technically belongs to willow)

Willow: he just wants a nice companion, something cuddly and smart. Any small dog works. He already has a chihuahua named chaos too, although she’s a bit crazy

Lord: he would prefer something quiet but cool looking. Like a snake. He loves the patterns they can come with, and scaring people is a nice bonus

Mutt: he’s the guy who feeds the pigeons every morning and gains an army. He actually already has one that he gained injured, took care of, and decided to keep it anyways because it’s a stupid bird. The pigeons name is kfc, and it hates eveyone except for him.

Wine: he thinks birds are real pretty, especially white doves. If he ever had the time, he would get a pair.

Coffee: like cash, he would like a small animal he could just carry around in his pocket. Rats and hamsters are his go to. If he ever did get a hamster, it would be one of the bigger teddy bear ones. The miniatures are too hyper

Charm: he would love a small goofy dog like a dachshund or a Boston terrier. He just thinks they’re neat

Sugar: he loves tropical birds like parrots. Any bird that can learn to talk is just so cool to him

Pop: he’s another tortoise fan. He would like a really big one and would totally walk it like a dog just to annoy his brother.

Rythm: he’s too busy for a pet and doesn’t really care about animals all that much.

Pluto: like mal, he loves fish and he already has a tank of tropical fish. His favorite is his pufferfish. His tank is huge and has about 30 fish total

Jupiter: another dog guy. He would also prefer an entergetic breed. He likes hounds so a foxhound would be nice.

Peaches: animals are more of ranchers thing since peaches takes care of the orchid. He does have a family of raccoons that he feeds behind ranchers back though

Rancher: he loves animals and is in charge of all the ones on the farm. He has 12 dairy cows, 15 goats, 6 pigs, 1 horse, like 30 chickens, 15 turkeys and two lamas. He takes care of them all by himself and his cows are his pride and joy. His favorite one, the tank named by peaches because it’s a fat f*cker, has won several awards

Snipe: he loves cats and is always fostering kittens he finds on the street, he never keeps them though. His job is dangerous and he’s scared of getting dusted one day and not coming back. The kittens usually find a home after a few weeks, snipe has a lot of connections

Bruiser: he likes bunnies. He just loves the way their noses twitch and thinks they’re the cutest creatures on the planet. He would never let himself get one though.

[lopithecusfanfiction]

Ride or Die

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard Rating: Teen+ Word Count: 1946 Alternate: AO3 Summary: Kaidan tries to convince Shepard to get some sleep --- "Kaidan huffs again, walking towards Shepard. 'It’ll be fine. Don’t be so dramatic.'

'Me dramatic?' Shepard chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. 'I think we need to discuss who is being more dramatic than the other.'

'Well, I’m not backing down.'

Shepard’s arms fall to his sides and he takes a deep breath. 'No, I suppose you won’t.'" Warnings:

Banter

Sleeping Pills

Cuddling & Snuggling

Author's Note: I told myself I wasn’t going to write any Mass Effect fics. Apparently I have no discipline. I know I’m like a decade late but I just played the trilogy for the first time (played Andromeda years ago before realizing there were games that came before it and, once I found out, could only get my hands on the trilogy recently) and fell in love with MShenko immediately. The title will make more sense later in the fic. ;) Anyway, please enjoy!

“He needs to sleep.”

“I agree,” Dr. Chakwas gives Kaidan a single nod before continuing, frown creasing her face. “But I don’t condone you giving Shepard sleeping pills without his knowledge.”

Kaidan shakes his head. “You know Shepard will just refuse to take them.” He gestures with his hand at nothing in particular. “You’ve seen him, how exhausted he looks. At this rate he’s going to die on the battlefield because he’ll be too tired to dodge a bullet.”

Dr. Chakwas shakes her head, as if she thinks Kaidan is being overly dramatic. Maybe he is. It is invincible Shepard they are talking about after all. So invincible, that death can’t even keep him down. Still, Dr. Chakwas stands, gives Kaidan a pointed look, and then walks over to a locked drawer. She digs a key out of her pocket and uses it to open the drawer. “I’m only giving you these because you are a good person, Kaidan, and I believe, in the end, you’ll do the right thing.” She procures two pills and deposits them into Kaidan’s palm.

With a quiet thanks, Kaidan leaves the med-bay and heads to Shepard’s quarters, knowing Dr. Chakwas is right. Even if it means having a fight on his hands, he shouldn’t trick Shepard into taking a drug without his consent. After all, Kaidan certainly wouldn’t be happy if Shepard did the same to him.

It’s been a rough couple of days, having just failed the mission on Thessia, so it’s not surprising when Kaidan walks into Shepard’s cabin and finds the man sitting at his desk with his face buried in his hands. Shepard doesn’t acknowledge him and Kaidan runs a hand up his back in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. “Hey.”

Shepard takes a deep inhale of breath, scrubs at his face once, twice, and then turns tired eyes and an even more exhausted smile his way. “Hey.” He looks Kaidan over, as if checking for injuries, which Kaidan finds ironic since Shepard is the one that is always falling or threatening to fall from great heights, injuring himself in one way or another, or being the center of attention when bullets are flying at them. “What are you doing here? Everything okay?”

He wants to kiss Shepard for caring so much even when the galaxy is burning around them. Instead, he crouches down in front of Shepard and gently says, “I have something for you.” Kaidan holds his palm out.

The response is immediate. “No.”

Kaidan huffs. “You don’t even know what they are.”

“I can guess.”

Shaking his head, Kaidan stands up and crosses his arms. “They’re sleeping pills.” Shepard opens his mouth to comment or retort, Kaidan doesn’t know which because he doesn’t let Shepard speak. “Listen, I could have put these in your food or your drink, seriously thought about it too, but Dr. Chakwas reminded me that I’m not the type of person to violate your trust like that.”

“Remind me to thank her later.”

“You need to sleep, Shepard,” Kaidan continues, ignoring Shepard’s statement. “Because the way you’re going, you won’t make it to the final Reaper battle.”

“I’m fine, Kaidan,” Shepard sighs.

“You look exhausted, Shepard. When you do sleep it’s not for very long and it certainly isn’t restful because of how stressed you are. You need rest, Shepard. How are you supposed to fight to your fullest if you’re tired?” Kaidan shrugs. “This will help.”

“This,” Shepard stands and paces towards his bed, crossing his arms when he faces Kaidan again, “means if there is an emergency, I can’t help.”

Kaidan huffs again, walking towards Shepard. “It’ll be fine. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Me dramatic?” Shepard chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. “I think we need to discuss who is being more dramatic than the other.”

“Well, I’m not backing down.”

Shepard’s arms fall to his sides and he takes a deep breath. “No, I suppose you won’t.” Shepard’s eyes travel from Kaidan’s face to his hand and back to his face. “Okay, fine. I’ll take them on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You lie down with me.” Shepard shrugs. “You must be just as tired as I am.”

Kaidan approaches Shepard, grabbing his hand and transferring the pills over. “You’re the commander. I’m not nearly as tired as you are.”

Shepard’s other hand, the hand that isn’t holding the sleeping pills, comes up and cups the side of Kaidan’s neck, catching his eyes. “Do you think I haven’t noticed you’re not sleeping either? Lie down with me.”

Kaidan sighs. “Okay.” He pushes away. “I’ll get you a glass of water. Sit down.”

With a small, victorious smile, Shepard does as he’s told. “Aye, aye Major.”

Kaidan rolls his eyes and turns away, grabbing a glass that is sat on the coffee table. After determining it’s clean — “I only had water in it earlier” Shepard had told him — he goes into the bathroom and fills it with water. He then hands it to Shepard who is sitting on the edge of the bed. Shepard takes the pills — “Would you like to inspect the inside of my mouth to make sure I actually swallowed them, Sir?” “Don’t be an ass, Shepard.” “Calling your CO an ass isn’t very professional, Kaidan.” — and hands the glass back. Kaidan sets it back down on the coffee table.

Kaidan nudges Shepard’s shins. “Scoot.” Shepard, with a smirk, scoots back and lies down, allowing Kaidan to take his foot and start untying his combat boot.

Shepard stretches out, using his arms to pillow the back of his head. “What happens if someone comes up and needs me but I’m asleep?”

“I’m the next ranking officer on board. I’ll handle it,” Kaidan answers.

Kaidan hears Shepard take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “You’re technically higher rank than I am.”

Kaidan slips the boot off of Shepard’s foot and moves onto the other. “You’re an N7. Technically , I’m not.”

“That gets kind of confusing doesn’t it? You’re a Major, a Spectre even, and yet because I’m an N7 I’m still higher rank than you.” Kaidan looks up just in time to see Shepard rub a hand down his face. “Do you want to trade?”

“Oh no, you’re a born leader. I’m… not.” Kaidan drops Shepard’s boot next to the other.

“You should stop selling yourself short like that.” Shepard’s smile is gone, turned serious now. Kaidan doesn’t know what to say to that, his self-esteem has never been all that great, and when the silence drags on for too long, Shepard pokes him in the stomach with his foot.

Kaidan takes a breath and moves on, not wanting to get into their personal history of wins and failures right now. Instead, he looks over Shepard’s body and asks him, “Do you want your clothes off, too.”

The smirk on Shepard’s face returns almost instantaneously. Kaidan doesn’t know how he does it. He supposes that mystery is some of the appeal. “Kaidan,” his tone is admonishing but playful. “You’re going to proposition me sex when I’ve got sleeping pills in my system?” When the only reaction he gets out of Kaidan is him crossing his arms and shaking his head, Shepard sighs and rolls onto his side. “I forgot you don’t have a funny bone in your body.”

Kaidan rounds the bed, going to the side Shepard isn’t lying on. “Sorry, I’ve been cursed with Serious Disease.”

“Ha.” The sound is devoid of any actual humor but Shepard doesn’t really seem annoyed so Kaidan knows he’s only teasing.

Kaidan crawls onto the bed, getting closer to Shepard until he can wrap his arms around the other man’s waist. He pulls Shepard close, resting his cheek on the back of Shepard’s neck. “Go to sleep.”

“Can’t, the pills haven’t started working yet.” Shepard chuckles. “They’re kind of slow.”

“They’re probably slow release so they keep working throughout the night.”

“So, then what happens if there’s an emergency and we have to escape the Normandy?” Shepard asks, moving his hand down to grab onto Kaidan’s.

Kaidan lets a heavy breath out, thinking about the last time they had to escape off the Normandy. “Then… I would carry you to an escape pod. At least, this time you’d actually make it on one.”

“What happens if you can’t make it to an escape pod because you’re too busy trying to carry my unconscious ass out of here?”

“Am I just now realizing how many hypotheticals you like to come up with? What is this, Shepard? Blasto?”

“Ride together. Die together.”

“That’s not…” Kaidan licks his lips, his chest constricting with the memory of Shepard dying, of leaving them — leaving him, or that’s what it felt like, despite not having been together at the time — and though Shepard is right there in his arms, alive and well, it still hurts to think about. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

The room falls quiet, solemn, and Shepard mutters a low, “Sorry.”

Neither of them speak for several minutes, Kaidan trying to get his emotions under check, and Shepard doing… whatever Shepard does in his head. At one point, Kaidan even thinks Shepard has fallen asleep until the man sighs heavily and squeezes Kaidan’s hand. In the end, Kaidan feels the need to fill the silence with something. He doesn’t mind sitting or lying in the quiet with Shepard, they’ve done it a million times, but the air is too heavy now to enjoy it.

“It’s a painful memory,” he supplies even though he knows the moment to say anything on the subject of Shepard dying has come and gone. “When you died, I mean.”

Shepard sighs again, shifts, and then settles. “Kaidan…” He doesn’t continue and Kaidan is left hanging there, waiting for Shepard to complete what he was about to say.

“What?”

Shepard twists in Kaidan’s arms, not fully turning over but enough to look Kaidan in the eyes. “When we face the Reapers…” He licks his lips, eyes flitting away before locking onto Kaidan’s once more. “You have to be prepa-”

“Don’t,” Kaidan cuts him off, feeling the lump form in his throat and his chest constrict painfully.

“Kaidan.”

“Not right now.” Kaidan gently shoves at Shepard’s shoulder, encouraging him to turn back around. “Go to sleep.”

Shepard stares down at him before letting his mouth curl into a tiny smile. He leans down, presses a kiss to Kaidan’s forehead, and then lies back down, back pressed into Kaidan’s chest. “Yes, Sir.” He tangles his and Kaidan’s legs together. “Think the pills are finally beginning to work. I’m starting to feel pretty sleepy.”

“Good.” Kaidan squeezes him, pecking him on the back of the neck. Shepard chuckles and Kaidan relaxes, glad that they’ve moved past what Shepard was about to tell him. It’s not like Kaidan doesn’t know. They both need to prepare for it, to say goodbye to each other. But when they are like this, they’re allowed to not live in reality for a couple hours. Kaidan wants to keep it that way.

“If something really bad happens, promise to wake me, okay?” Shepard says and he really does sound tired now, as if he’s going to fall asleep at any moment.

Kaidan gives him another kiss, this time on the back of the head. “Promise.”

Shepard nods, yawns, closing his eyes, “Alright, Major.” His body gradually grows more and more limp.

Kaidan snuggles closer, pulling Shepard as close as they can get, burying his nose into Shepard’s hair so he can breathe him in. “And the term is ride or die,” he whispers.

And he’s pretty sure most of the crew would.

—————————————————————————————————

A/N: I know a lot of people have Kaidan higher ranked than Shepard, and it makes sense if you only go by titles, but a comment from Joker after the Cerberus attack on the Citadel in ME3 made me question this. Joker says that Kaidan remembered the rule to not shoot the superior officer, meaning Shepard. That means, Shepard is still higher ranked than Kaidan, right? So, I got wondering how that could be and then remembered someone mentioned (during a conversation online about who would be in charge after Shepard) that since Shepard is an N7 (a made up title) that it could possibly mean that he still outranks Kaidan. If this is true, then that comment from Joker makes more sense.

Personally, I like this headcanon myself.

Thanks for reading!

[adiwriting]

Fic: Navigate the Stars

Fandom: Roswell New Mexico

Pairing: Malex (Michael Guerin/Alex Manes)

Notes: Still trying to figure out Michael and Alex’s voices, but I’m getting there. 

Prompt: Getting lost somewhere

----

“Can’t you like, navigate us home by the stars or some shit?” 

“Why? Because I’m part Navajo?” Alex asks, annoyed. “Sure. Let me just do a rain dance, smoke the peace pipe, and build us a tepee while we’re at it.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Michael says with a dramatic sigh and a roll of his eyes. “I just meant, didn’t they train you for this kind of shit in the military?” 

Alright, that’s fair. The Air Force did indeed train him for this exact kind of situation. Not that Alex will tell Michael that. 

“I cannot believe you got us lost,” is what Alex says instead. 

“This is why I don’t do nice things for you,” Michael grumbles and Alex can just feel Michael’s rant coming. 

“I’m sorry, nice things?” he scoffs. Were they or were they not lost in the middle of the desert instead of cuddled up on the couch with Netflix? 

“Why don’t you ever take me anywhere nice, Michael? Why don’t we do more things together, Michael?” 

“Don’t even start with me,” Alex groans. “At what point did I ever give you the impression that this was what I wanted?” 

“You literally shoved all of Max and Liz’s camping pictures in my face the other day,” Michael complains. “Kept going on and on about romance. Of course I thought that this was what you wanted.” 

“I am about to ship off for six months to a country that has no established base. I am going to be camping for god knows how long until we can get shit set up. Why on Earth would I want to spend my last weekend with my boyfriend in the middle of the desert?” 

“Fine, your boyfriend’s a fuck up. What do you want me to say?” Michael says, and the sad look on his face has Alex turning away. He’s not ready to give up his anger just yet. 

“Oh my god, this is not getting us anywhere,” Alex grumbles as he looks up at the stars and tries to remember which constellations he’s supposed to be looking for to guide them back to camp. The last time he did this, he was on the other side of the world. 

Michael sighs and throws his stuff on the ground, clearly giving up on them ever finding their way back. 

“What are you really mad at?” Michael asks him. 

“You!” He’d thought that much was obvious. 

“No. No. See, you do this every time,” Michael says. “Every damn time you’ve been deployed, you find a reason to be mad at me. A reason to push me away before you leave. I thought we were done with this. When we got back together, you promised me that you were past this shit.” 

“When we got back together I didn’t think I was going to get deployed again did I?” he practically yells, annoyed that Michael would even bring that up again. Didn’t they also promise each other to stop bringing up their past mistakes and move forward? 

“Why are you yelling at me?” Michael asks, and the sadness in his voice only fuels Alex’s anger. 

This is so fucking stupid.

“I’m missing a leg!” he yells, because he can. Because nobody else is around to overhear them. “When I reenlisted to keep you all safe, I was missing a leg. I literally thought I was safe from being deployed to a potential war zone, because I’m disabled. But no, some idiots had to go champion for disabled rights and now I’m apparently the only person with the proper expertise for this deployment. It’s bullshit. I’ve served enough!” 

“Okay,” Michael says, too calmly for Alex’s taste.  

“Haven’t I already given enough for this fucking country?” 

“Okay,” Michael says again, standing up to walk over to him with his arms up in surrender. 

“It’s utter bullshit!” 

“Okay,” he says, wrapping Alex in a hug. 

“Stop saying that!” he argues, refusing to hug him back. He’s not in the mood to be soothed. He wants to yell and scream and break things. 

“O— Sorry,” Michael says. 

They both fall quiet and Michael continues to hold him while Alex’s anger calms. 

“I don’t want to go,” Alex whispers, scared to put that out there. He’s an airman. Airmen accept the deployments handed to them with pride, ready to serve and protect. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Michael whispers back. 

He wraps his arms around Michael’s hips and lays his head against his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of Michael’s hands rubbing soothing circles on his back. He’s going to miss this. He fought so hard to finally have this, and now he’s terrified of losing it. 

“We could run away,” Michael says softly. “They can’t make you do this.” 

“And go AWOL?” Alex says, taking a moment to contemplate the idea. He’d never do that. Michael knows he’d never do that. Still, it’s a nice fantasy. “Where would we go?” 

“Anywhere. You know I’ve never seen anything outside of New Mexico,” he says. “We could go visit Max and Liz in California.” 

“LA?” Alex says with disgust. “Pass.” 

“We could get a place up in the mountains. Colorado maybe?” Michael suggests. “You were saying that you missed living in Jim Valenti’s cabin.” 

“Is this your way of telling me that you’re finally ready to move in together?” Alex asks. 

“Move in together?” Michael scoffs. “I already sleep at your place every night of the week. Just because I haven’t sold my airstream—” 

“Doesn’t mean that you’re not committed, I know,” Alex finishes for him. 

They’ve already had this discussion numerous times. Alex wants Michael to sell the airstream and put the money towards something for himself. School. Starting his own business. Something. The airstream is just sitting there, not being used. Meanwhile, Michael doesn’t have the finances to do any of the things he claims he wants to do with his life. 

At least… that’s Alex’s argument to Michael. Secretly, he’s a lot more selfish in his dislike of the airstream. Alex hates the idea that Michael has such an easy out of their relationship. That at any given time, he could just pack up and leave because he has somewhere else to go. 

But he gets it. Michael grew up without a home for so long and he saved up for a long time to have something he could buy outright. Something that nobody would ever be able to take away from him. Alex gets why Michael feels the need to hang onto that. He doesn’t like it, but he gets it. 

The two of them fall into silence again, but it’s not uncomfortable. Alex is enjoying just being with Michael. 

“Do you really think it’s wrong for disabled men to get deployed?” Michael asks. 

“No,” Alex says with a sigh. Now that he’s no longer enraged, he regrets his rant. He’d have cursed out anyone else he’d heard say that. It’s some ableist nonsense. “Disabled soldiers are just as capable as everyone else. If they get cleared by medical, there’s no reason they shouldn’t be able to serve. Some of this country's best men have been injured in battle… If they are willing to go back out there, it’s to our country’s benefit to let them.” 

“But you said…” 

“I know,” Alex says, pulling away from him enough to be able to look him in the eyes. “But I didn’t mean it.” 

“No?” There’s that little bit of old insecurity in Michael’s eyes as he says it. 

It’s been a few months since Alex has seen it. Things between them have been so good that Alex had naively hoped that it was gone forever. But it doesn’t surprise him that he’s seeing it now. Alex going off to war has always been a difficult thing for both of them. Their relationship has never survived a deployment. This time, Alex is determined to break that trend. 

“Well not the disabled part. I help champion for disabled rights in the military. I can’t very well complain that I’m being treated like everyone else, can I?” 

Michael’s eyes go to the ground and refuse to meet his own. 

“The only reason you reenlisted was to keep me safe, and now they are sending you to a war you don’t want to fight.” 

Alex’s stomach drops as he curses himself for that slip of his tongue. He never should have said that either. He’s 0 for 2 tonight. 

“Hey,” Alex says, grabbing onto Michael’s face gently and getting him to look at him. “Keeping you safe was a reason to reenlist but it wasn’t the main reason to reenlist.” 

“No?” He looks doubtful. 

“Project Shepard is my family’s legacy, and I needed to see it through. I needed to make sure it stayed dismantled. And yes, doing so kept you safe and that’s great, but I needed to do that for me. To be able to heal from all my shit with my dad,” Alex explains, hoping Michael gets it. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” Michael says. “Every time you go off to war, it’s my fault.” 

“What?” Alex says. He’d thought he’d heard all of Michael’s crazy insecurities by now, but this is a new one. 

“Your dad only made you join the Air Force after he caught us together,” Michael says. “And every time your enlistment period was up, I did something to scare you back into it... I don’t want to be the reason that you keep going to war. Because one of these days I’m going to scare you back into it and you’re not going to make it home.” 

Michael starts to cry and each tear stabs at his heart. 

“Okay, that was a lot.” Alex gives a small laugh as he starts to cry too. He’s been getting better tackling Michael’s emotional dumps and not running away when they happen. It’s still not easy and his first instinct is always to run, or ignore it with the distraction of sex, but he’s trying. 

“But… I’ll try to tackle it,” Alex says. “For starters, my dad was always going to push me into the Air Force. Sure, I had plans to make music and go to college, and my dad threatening you is the reason why I didn’t rebel. But he was always going to find a way to get me to enlist. His evil knows no bounds and he would never have been okay with a son not upholding the family legacy. As for the rest… I was stupid and young. And you didn’t scare me back to war. You only ever offered me a home and a family, and I was too broken to accept.” 

“And now?” 

“And now, I can’t tell you what’s going to happen. The only thing that’s predictable about war is that it’s unpredictable.” 

Michael’s eyes go back to the ground, but Alex chases them until Michael meets his gaze again. 

“I can promise you that I’m going to fight like hell to get back to you. That I’m no longer young and stupid. I know what I’m doing and while I can’t control what happens, I’m not going to make stupid mistakes out there. Not when I have a wonderful man waiting for me at home.” 

“Yeah?” Michael looks doubtful and Alex realizes that he’s never actually assured Michael that they aren’t breaking up during this deployment. He’d just assumed that much was obvious, but perhaps not. Perhaps Michael still needs the actual words. 

“Yeah,” Alex says with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “I’m in this. If you’re in this, I’m in this. We survived ten years apart, we can survive six months.” 

Michael nods and attempts to nonchalantly wipe his eyes like Alex could somehow have missed the fact that he’s been crying. Still, Alex has enough tact to ignore it. 

“I’ll call as much as I can,” Alex assures him, settling his hands on Michael’s hips and pulling him closer. “Though it might be spotty until we get things established there.” 

“I’ll write.” 

“You’ll write?” Alex teases him. “You barely send texts.” 

“I will write,” Michael promises, wrapping his arms around Alex’s shoulders and leaning his forehead against his own. 

“Good.” 

Getting letters from home are some of the only things that make war bearable. Alex rarely got any in the past, but the handful of letters he’d received from Maria, Liz, and Greg over the years had certainly brightened his days. Alex has always missed Michael during deployments, but this time he’s positive it’s going to hurt even more. Letters will help. 

“I’ve gotta remind you what you’ve got waiting for you at home,” Michael says with a teasing smile that lets him know the serious moment has passed. “Can’t have you shacking up with any sexy airmen all brokeback style.” 

Alex laughs at that. “Never.” 

“Good.” Michael kisses him before dropping his hands and walking back over to pick up his backpack. “Now let’s find our camp for real. I’m starving and horny, and I’d much rather have sex in a tent than on the ground.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time we’d had sex in the middle of the desert,” Alex reminds him. 

Michael looks up in surprise as Alex sends him a knowing look. 

“Well sure,” Michael says with a smile, reaching out for his hand. “But that was when I was living in a truck and didn’t have other options. And it was a one time thing. I had dirt and sand places that one never really should.” 

“Fair,” Alex says with a laugh as Michael leans in to give him another kiss.  

Alex takes a deep breath, assuring himself that things are going to be okay. He then looks up at the sky and, now that he has a clear head, can clearly see which direction they need to head. 

“Come on, camp is this way,” Alex says, tugging on his hand. 

“Did you just navigate by the stars?”

One glance at Michael’s face tells him that he’s never going to hear the end of this. 

“Shut up,” he says with a blush. “It’s part of our training.” 

“Oh! Part of your training? You mean you didn’t learn that on the reservation? You aren’t going to do a rain dance for me?” Michael laughs, and god… Alex doesn’t even care that Michael teases him the entire twenty minute walk back to camp, because Alex is really going to miss that smile when he’s gone.