#ash writes 💚✌️

[silverselfshippingchaos]

Pairing: Ash (self-insert)/Commander John Shepard

Word Count: About 1.2k

Warnings: A bit of swearing, lots of making out. Slightly steamy if you squint, but it's mostly fluff. Also Shepard needs a vacation.

Synopsis: Set in the midst of Mass Effect 3, Ash can't help but notice that Shepard hasn't been doing well. After all, he could he? With the Reaper War upon the galaxy, it was up to him to save all organic life. Still, Ash worries for him. Building model ships has always been a hobby of his, and Ash thinks that perhaps building one together could help his tired mind relax.

Knock.

Knock knock.

Knock knock knock.

Ash sighs, staring at the metal door in front of her blankly. She looks down at the cardboard box in her hand, a toy model ship waiting to be built and assembled.

He must be sleeping... She thinks to herself. Usually, as soon as she knocks on the door of Shepard's cabin, he's rushing to open the door, to pull her into his strong embrace, tilt her chin up and kiss her.

Shepard doesn't seem to register the knocking at all. He's just staring blankly at the wall, lost in thought. It had become a regular endeavor for him these past few weeks. Fuck, there was always too much happening. Every single second he spent here wasting time, another planet was being attacked. The constant feeling of unease had him growing thin, as was being pulled in what felt like every single direction of the galaxy.

"EDI, you mind opening Shepard's door for me?"

Ash asks, looking up at the ceiling. The Normandy's AI companion could hear her regardless of where she was looking, but it was a habit Ash couldn't seem to drop. The response comes almost immediately, as it often did when EDI was involved.

"Past data indicates that Shepard's dopamine levels increase when he hears your voice, so yes. Yes I can."

As the door opens with a woosh, Shepard seems to be snapped out of whatever trance he was in. He's still sitting on the edge of his bed in a pair of sweats and his favorite N7 hoodie, but he looks over at Ash.

"Hey, Ash. You need something?"

He's happy to see Ash, and his tone is plenty chipper, but Ash can tell just how exhausted he really is. Perhaps it was her magical girlfriend senses, or maybe it was that it was plain to see that Shepard was exhausted. Still, she smiles, just happy to see him. Not even an intergalactic war could stop the way he made her heart flutter.

"Nope. Didn't realize I needed an excuse to see my boyfriend now."

Ash's tone is sarcastic and light-hearted (as it often is), but John just shakes his head and sighs, rubbing at his temple with his hand,

"I'm sorry. There's so much to think about. The deal with the Salarian Dalatrass-"

"Can wait. It can wait."

Ash approaches the bed and pulls his head into her chest, giving her the best hug she can muster with one hand still holding the cardboard box (hidden very stealthily behind her back).Ash's voice is a whisper as she kisses the top of his head, the familiar prick of his buzzed hair on her lips.

"When's the last time you slept, John? Joker told me your stress levels haven't been this high since the Blitz. I'm worried, baby."

"... I'm not tired. At all. I'll be okay."

Ash sighs, letting go of him and rolling her eyes. Shepard raises an eyebrow,

"Hey, what are you hiding behind your back?"

Ash shows it to him. To be completely honest, model ships were much more his department than Ash's, but she still did her research, and this particular model took her nearly a month of hunting down.

Shepard's blue eyes go wide,

"This model is a hard one to find. You got this for me?"

"Yeah." Ash smiles, "I thought maybe it would help get your mind off things."

"Ash, I... Thank you. Thank you so much."

Shepard looks up at her, and his eyes are so earnest and sweet. When's the last time he took a break, did something for himself? Ash puts a hand on his cheek, feeling the small poke of his stubble against her palm. She leans in for a soft kiss, pressing her lips against his, and it's a gesture that Shepard is more than happy to reciprocate.

"Where would I be without you, honey?"

It's more of a rhetorical question anyway, but Ash kisses him again, this time on his forehead,

"Dunno. And we won't find out either, since I'm with you until the end."

"In that case..."

Shepard takes the box from her, looking at it front and back,

"Wanna build this with me?"

"Fuck yeah, let's do it."

~~~~~~

It takes nearly an hour of long work, gluing and linking together wooden and plastic pieces to make what seemingly resembled a small figurine of a warship, but seeing John's smile made all the hard work more than worth it to Ash. Shepard yawns, settling the ship down.

Ash grins,

"Finally tired now?"

"Yeah. Think I'll take a nap, then shower."

Ash runs a hand down his arm,

"Hm... Mind if I join?"

She doesn't miss the smirk on Shepard's face, and she fucking loves it.

"The nap or the shower?"

"Heh, both. Looking forward to the shower, though."

Ash can feel the smile on his lips as he pulls her into his lap where he sat on the ground, wrapping his arms and kissing her deeply. His breath is soft on her lips as he pulls away just enough to speak.

"'Course you are."

It takes much more kissing, but Shepard eventually, Shepard picks her up with ease and lays her down in bed. He took his N7 hoodie off while they were building, so he takes his shirt of before laying next to her. Admittedly, Ash is soaking in the sight of his bare chest, her eyes drifting down to his muscles... There were scars, both from the Blitz and his miraculous coming back from the dead, but to Ash, there was nothing more attractive.

Shepard wraps his arms around her, and Ash giggles. His arms always felt so perfect. Ash was so soft, and she smelled so sweet too. She was Shepard's happy place. Ash laughs as he buries his face in her neck, soaking in the scent of her cologne barely clinging to her skin after a long day, and starts peppering her with kisses there.

"Shep! Your beard! It tickles!"

But he doesn't stop. He has a massive grin on his face. He loves hearing her laugh so much.

Still, it doesn't take long before Shepard is ready to drift off to sleep, the exhaustion of a day of meeting with aliens and humans alike kicking in.

Shepard squeezes Ash, holds her tight in a big ol' hug. Honestly, his grip is a little too strong, but Ash doesn't mind. He was showing her affection, and she was glad he didn't have to hide parts of himself around her. Whenever they sat around and built figurines together, it was so easy to pretend that they were just the run-of-the-mill couple, and not a supersoldier back from the dead and a decorated Alliance soldier.

"I love you, Ash."

He loosens his grip and lets her snuggle into his chest like how she always loves to.

"I love you too, honey. Let's get some sleep. I'm sure Garrus will wake us up if anything happens."

"I could stay with you forever."

Ash smiles,

"When it's all over, you will."

Shepard, already half-asleep by his point, grabs gentle hold of Ash's left hand and runs his thumb over her ring finger, right where a wedding ring would rest.

"Yeah, I will."

The next thing Ash knows, Shepard is out like a light, his breathing being enough to lull her to bed too.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

Pairing: Ash (self-insert)/Basch fon Ronsenburg

Word Count: Almost 800.

Warnings: suggestive if you squint, literally just them making out, takes place a year after the game, vague ff12 spoilers

Synopsis: Unfortunately so, not even being a married woman could save Ash from the responsibility of being the Flame of Rabanastre. And yet, in times of peace, the distance between her and her husband felt farther than ever. With enough nagging from her friends and comrades, Ash takes the journey to reunite with her husband. And clearly, her knight in shining armor missed her just as much as she missed him.

The Arcadian silks are smooth and soft against Ash's bare back as she lies down against the back, letting Basch climb on top of her with ease. Ash makes herself comfortable against the cushioned pillows. Her hair was down, a halo of black curls that Basch had been so eager to feel once again. After all, it wasn't often they had time for themselves since the war ended, so all the time they had together was savored.

Ash's hands grasp at the sheets,

"Now these... These are nice."

"Aren't they?"

Basch's voice is deep and rough, and it's clear that the last thing he's focused on is the look of the damn sheets.

"You look beautiful with the red as your canvas."

Ash could never get enough of him, and she never planned to. The ring on her finger was but a physical representation of a promise that was always there, even when Basch was behind bars for two years. Still, despite it all, Ash thinks to herself that she was the luckiest woman in all of Ivalice to have such a view all to herself.

Ash humors his words with a soft smirk. Her fingers trail up from the red, silken sheets up his arm. Her touch is gently, her nails just dragging along his scarred skin and muscle to eventually rest her hand upon his cheek. She takes a moment to truly admire him.

They were older now, so much older than they were when they meet, but blue-gray eyes like a perfect storm always stayed the same. His hair was shorter now, in an attempt to look like someone who he never truly was. To the world, Basch was dead. To her, Basch was her life.

"It is rather exquisite bedding... Though I would expect nothing less from the Emperor's loyal protector."

Through the thin, white curtains blowing softly from the window, there was little but the moonlight illuminating them. Ash liked it that way—It reminded her of old times. Nothing but them and the sand beneath the stars, the sounds of quiet gasps and whispers of love the only thing either of them could care about. Archades wasn't the deserts she called home, but Basch's arms were home enough.

A flame needs a spark, and that's exactly what he was to her.

Ash leans her head back with a soft moan as her partner kisses her neck. If this is what happened whenever she got out of Rabanastre for a month, perhaps she had better become Archadia's Flame instead, always within arms reach of her loyal knight.

Basch leans in to pepper kisses along Ash's jaw, the poke of his short beard a contrast to the soft, feather-like touches of his lips.

Ash can feel him chuckle,

"I am much more than that, my lady. Allow me to show you."

They had been lovers for years, friends for even longer. It's not heated passion or lust that brought them together on that quiet night in the castle, but rather the feeling of two lovers reuniting. And Ash has no complaints.

There is nothing quick or hungry about the way Basch kisses her. Basch does not just kiss her. Basch worships Ash. Her body is one that he knows all too well. It was one that he had known when he was so much more than the man he was now, one that he had known whenever he was held in chains in Nalbina, and one that he had known in the hot, Dalmascan nights that left him red and exhausted.

Every inch of her is something that he knows so intimately, so he takes his time kissing her, feeling her as if to memorize her with his lips once more.

How could she? She had spent so many nights in Rabanastre dreaming night and day about her husband's arms only to realize that, as always, the real thing is so much better. Basch's lips trail down to her clavicle, kissing and sucking soft bruises that he knew Ash loved. The sweet melody of her breath and soft whispers of I love you only serving as motivation for him to continue. After all, it was a knight's job to serve his lady.

His hand trails to the side to meet hers, their fingers interlocking in a way that only affirmed the belief that, yes, they truly were made for each other. Ash simply closes her eyes and sighs, basking in the feeling.

Perfect in every single way is what Basch was to her.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

Pairing: Ash (self-insert)/Balthus

Word Count: About 1.7k

Warnings: Swearing, vague descriptions of injuries and blood, some slightly suggestive lines, Ash is very much emotionally constipated.

Synopsis: After a late-night run-in with some mercenaries, Balthus stumbles back to Abyss bloody and bruised. The only person awake to heal him is the woman he always felt drawn to, Ash. Ash isn't used to having people in her life that she cared for, so why did the thought of him make her feel so... weak? Pre-relationship.

Having lived underground for years, the King of Grappling has little sense of day and night.

As he wipes some blood from his chest, he thinks to himself that clearly, neither did the men his stepmother sent after him.

I'm never coming back. What's it gonna take for that witch to realize that?!

Bloody and bruised, Balthus stumbles his way through the lush green grass of the Monastery to the dark and dusty walls of Abyss. The cold bricks and the horrible, sewer smell are little more of a comfort than the chill of the air outside, but he didn't hate it. A prison to others, a home to him.

Ash is disturbed from her late-night reading by the faint sound of heavy footsteps on the stone stairs leading down to this hell. It was typically dead silent at this hour, so to hear someone... Were they being attacked? But by only one man?

She looks around, and slowly steps out of the Shadow Library to see Abysskeeper on-guard as always. He gives her a look of acknowledgement. To that, Ash gives him a glare.

"I'll take care of it."

Her voice is deep and rough, just like how it always was. Abysskeeper took orders from no one, not even the Garreg Mach keeper whom he found to be more charming than he'd like to admit. And yet, he steps aside at Ash's word. Who was to deny one of Abyss' guardians herself?

... Especially since she'd probably stab him if he didn't.

Ash steps closer to the stairs as the footsteps get louder. A hand resting on the blade by her side, which served as a constant reminder of her being trapped in this world of fighting. There was no escape. Any blood spilled with repayed for more. A horrible cycle, and she was stuck in the middle of it, stuck in her past, stuck in Abyss, stuck in her feelings, stuck in a war, horrified and scared and-

Balthus.

Covered in bruises and cuts, Balthus wipes some of the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. Ash's hand relaxes, falling back to her side.

"Balthus."

"Ash! Always a pleasure."

And Balthus flashes her a bloody, toothy grin. Ash just rolls her eyes, which Balthus seems to enjoy, judging by the way he threw his head back and laughed.

"Heartless as ever! You wound me, my lady."

Heartless...

Balthus thinks to himself,

She's far from it. I caught her teaching the kids how to read the other day.

Ash ignores the comment and just looks at him blanky. If she was concerned, she didn't show it. If only he knew the way she worried about him, having not come back until so late. What if something happened to him?!

"What happened to you?"

Balthus' expression hardens for a moment before resuming to his usual, easy smirk,

"Oh, you know how it goes, pal. One drink too many, a lost bet, and-"

"Predictable as ever. Pathetic."

But Ash couldn't just let him stand there all beat up. She couldn't bear the sight of him hurt, and she hated to admit it. Why did she care about him so much?

She reaches a hand out to his and grabs his wrist, pulling him into the Shadow Library.

"Woah there- Pal! What are you doing?"

"You're so... so stupid!"

"Jeez, you're mean... Now who's predictable?"

Ash shoves him down onto the table, and Balthus can't help but think that he likes it when she's that harsh with him. The way that her grip hurt so damn good, the way her hair fell in her face as her moved... She was intoxicating. Absolutely fucking intoxicating.

Ash takes off her own long coat and sets it down onto another table. Balthus notices that even through her sleeves, her arms look strong. And Balthus gladly drinks in the sight of her muscles, the healed scars on her forearms from a life of too much war.

"Didn't realize it was going to be this kind of encounter, but I don't mind."

"Shut up. Take off your jacket."

"Ooh, I like it when you talk to me like that, pal. Wanted to see me strip that bad, yeah?"

Ash's breath hitches in her throat. Fuck.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. You're injured and I wanna see-"

"You're not one to waste time... Of course you wanna see! Who'd pass up an opportunity to see the King of Grappling's iron bod?"

Ash groans,

"Can't you just shut up?! Let me heal you, you idiot! You think I'm not worried about you?!"

Ash crosses her arms over her chest. She hopes her yelling didn't wake any of the Abyssians.

Balthus' brown eyes go wide, but he quickly gathers himself and smiles as he takes off his jacket. Slow and steady, making it a show for her. She hates how much it affects her. Balthus was, without a doubt, the most muscular man she had ever seen. And he had a love for walking around shirtless, too. The way he moved...

Ash leans in and runs her fingers over his bare skin, over the defined muscles of his chest, over the bruises all over him. Her touch was light, too light. Balthus wanted more.

"That was one hell of a bar fight.."

Ash's voice is a quiet whisper as she feels his injuries. Feels him.

"I'm going to heal you."

And before Balthus can protest (not that he'd want to), Ash presses a hand to each of his injuries and casts her healing spells.

She casts her spells again and again, and Balthus can feel the pain start to fade away. To distract himself from the burning sting of his bruises fading, he looks at her. Watches her. The way her brown eyes narrowed in concentration...

Ash steps back after she completes her round of healing spells. Even after all her work, some blood remained.

Balthus shifts uncomfortably on the wooden table of the Shadow Library, glancing over at his arm. They cut him, too.

"I'll get bandages."

He's never heard Ash's voice so soft. Even with the healing spells, he couldn't deny that he was getting a little drowsy.

Ash comes back a minute or two later with the best supplies she could manage to get in a place like this. Perhaps she'd pay a visit to the surface soon, steal some new ones. And even if she did get caught, she'd make sure there wasn't a single person left alive to tell the tale.

Slowly but surely, Ash cleans Balthus' wounds. Balthus winces at the sting, but through gritted teeth, he can't resist being cheeky.

"Bet you like this, yeah? Hearing me squirm under your touch."

The best Ash offers him is a racing heart and a scoff,

"That's cute."

Ash presses down extra hard on his cuts, and Balthus yelps.

She looks into his eyes, her eyes just as hard as always, but her lips twitched up in a smirk,

"That's a good boy. Now shut up."

"Ouch... Bit of a sadistic one, aren't you?"

"Only sometimes."

Ash leans in close to see the injuries on his face. Goodness, she was so beautiful up close. Her hair, always a little messy fell into her face. She places a hand on his bare chest.

"Your heart is racing, Balthus. Don't tell me you like having me like this."

Balthus meets her gaze directly,

"One more word from you, pal, and I'll flip you onto this table. Show you who's King around here."

Ash chuckles,

"In this state, I'd like to see you try."

She leans in close to his ear, her voice a dark whisper,

"And who's to say I don't like it better when it's like this?"

Balthus chuckles, and Ash grabs for the bandages, carefully wrapping him up.

Her words were harsh, but her touch was gentle on his skin. Like she didn't want to hurt him even more.

They fall into a silence. Not quite awkward, not quite comfortable. The tension in the air made it hard for them to feel much of anything other than each other.

Inspecting her work, Ash steps away.

"You..."

Ash's voice trembles,

"You can't keep doing this... All you ever do is get beat up."

"It's what I do best, pal!"

"You're an idiot! I can't bear the sight of you like this."

"It's starting to sound to me like you care about my wellbeing."

Ash hesitates, and it takes her a second to respond, thinking about every single word. She couldn't let him know how she really felt. A woman like her didn't do love.

"You're important to the people in Abyss. So don't you dare get yourself killed."

She spends a moment with a hand on his chest, looking so deeply into his eyes. The moment feels like an eternity... But then she rips her gaze away and pulls back, and her touch seems to linger on his skin.

"I'm going to bed, Balthus. Goodnight."

Balthus straightens up on the table,

"Don't want company?"

"You'd wake Constance up. Then you'd be dead for real."

"How about my bed?"

"Then we'd wake Yuri up and never hear the end of it."

"Guess you're right about that, pal."*

Ash yawns before she can get another smart response out, and Balthus finds the gesture oddly cute. She couldn't be much older than him, and she looked so... soft. Sweet. Like there was more to her than he knew.

Ash picks up her coat and begins to walk away. Ash shoots him one last look before she leaves the library. Ash was always an enigma of sorts, and Balthus didn't put too much thought into understanding her. But there was something about that look that he couldn't quite decipher. He felt... odd.

And so, there Balthus is. Half-naked at the dead of night in the middle of the Shadow Library, left to deal with the dulling pain of his wounds (she was a great healer!) and the weird flutter in his chest all alone.

Great.