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babycracker · 2 years

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(very belated) day 1 prompt from @theworldofprompts oc-tober, featuring @wayhavenots rider! (thank you so much for letting me use him, pd! i hope i did him justice)

human!tanner x rider ~1.9k pg13 (cursing + a few mildly suggestive comments) day 1 prompt: bat

"Can I see the boss?"

Tanner's eyes close and he lets out a heavy sigh when he hears the words from the front counter beyond his office.

"Come on," he mutters to himself, glancing at the time on the screen of his computer. Ten minutes before closing and some jackass chooses now to come to him with an issue.

He gets to his feet with a groan, already at the door when there's a knock from the other side. He pulls it open and nods to his apprentice.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard," he mutters before the kid has a chance to say anything.

But he doesn't expect to see a familiar face grinning at him when he reaches the front of the shop. Not overly familiar, but familiar enough that he actually remembers this guy's name. Rider. He relaxes instantly and leans against the counter, offering his own grin in return.

"Well, well, well," Rider begins, looking around the shop before his eyes return to Tanner's face. "And here I thought you might have been lying about being the boss to impress me."

Tanner laughs, then raises a brow slightly. "Well? Are you impressed?"

"Very," Rider replies before a short silence falls between them.

"So, you really came all the way in here just to verify my story?" Tanner asks after a moment.

"Well," Rider begins, looking slightly nervous for the first time since Tanner met him a few days ago. "Yes, and no. On the off chance you were telling me the truth, I thought… you might be interested in having the honour of giving me my first tattoo."

Well, that's unexpected.

"Oh! Um, yeah, definitely. Just, gimme a sec to send this lot home, yeah?"

"I didn't mean right now! I thought I could just make an appointment, or something…" Rider trails off when Tanner waves his objections away with one hand.

"We'll just talk ideas and then see what happens, 'kay?" he offers with a wink before gesturing for Rider to sit down.

He's not exactly sure why he's entirely willing to go out of his way and work after hours for this guy, but he finds himself pushing his artists to hurry up and clean up their stations, eager to get them the hell out of here so that he can bring Rider out back.

He was very interested when he'd met Rider at a friend of a friend's party the other night, but unfortunately had already been, well, taken care of, by a girl who's name he doesn’t remember anymore.

So, they'd spent the night just hanging out, and he can't remember the last time he just hung out with someone new without the promise of something more at the end of it.

It had actually been a lot of fun. Different, but surprisingly not in a bad way.

Finally the shop is empty, and Tanner locks the door and flicks off the main lights, leaving the front room illuminated by only the dim lamps fixed to the walls.

"Not creepy at all," Rider comments with a laugh. He's gripping a sheet of paper when Tanner glances back over at him.

"Yeah, got ya right where I want ya, now," he says with a grin. "C'mon," he nods toward the back of the shop, indicating for Rider to follow.

It's brighter back here, the fluorescent lights above each table still buzzing away, and now Tanner can see that there's something drawn on the paper that Rider's holding. He's drawn his own; Tanner didn't even realise that Rider could draw.

"That your design?" he asks, nodding at it as Rider takes a seat on the edge of the closest table.

"Yes," Rider replies hesitantly, keeping the paper out of Tanner's reach.

"You- uh, can I see it?" Tanner asks after a few more seconds, and Rider slowly extends the hand holding the paper.

"I don't know how good it is," he mumbles when Tanner takes it from him. The nervousness is a vast contrast from the confident and bubbly person he'd spent hours with the other night. It might be a little bit adorable.

Tanner takes a seat on the stool beside the table, grabs his glasses from his workstation and puts them on to take a decent look at Rider's design.

There's a series of small bat outlines in the centre of the paper. Simple, shouldn't take too long, but Tanner's impressed nonetheless.

"You didn't mention you could draw," he says, setting Rider's drawing on the small desk beside it.

"Because I don't know that I can," Rider mumbles, and all Tanner offers is an under his breath "psh" in response. He grabs an album from the desk and spins his stool around to drop it on the table beside where Rider's sitting.

"These are good, but if you're not happy," he begins, flipping through the book until he finds the pages he's looking for; a series of photos of bat tattoos. He runs his finger over them as he continues, "we can colour them, shade them, black fill them-"

"Ohh, I didn't think of just black!" Rider cuts in. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Tanner laughs and closes the album again. "Because you got in your head about it. So you want them all black? You sure?"

Rider nods, pushing the sleeve of his shirt up and lightly slapping his bicep. "Here."

Tanner doesn't even try to pretend that his eyes aren't lingering on the other man's muscular arm, before giving him a small smirk and remarking "nice arms" before spinning back around to face the desk and grabbing a sheet of tracing paper.

"Nice hands," Rider shoots back as Tanner tapes the two sheets of paper together and begins tracing his picture.

He laughs again, focusing on the task at hand even while he distractedly replies "thanks. I'm pretty good with them, too."

"I have no doubt." Tanner can hear the smile in Rider's voice without looking at him.

He finishes tracing the picture, and can see from the corner of his eye Rider watching intently as he flips the tracing paper and places a new sheet on top to copy the drawing again with a stencil pen.

"Happy?" Tanner asks once he's done. Rider just nods, looking slightly worried again. "You sure?"

"Yep, c'mon, let's do it." He slaps his bicep a little harder this time with a wide smile, but Tanner recognises false confidence when he sees it. He's seen enough of it; not many people want to admit that they're freaking out over their first tattoo.

"It's not as bad as you're thinking," he reassures as he pulls on a pair of black nitrile gloves and grabs an alcohol wipe to clean Rider's arm.

"I'm not thinking it's going to be bad," Rider insists, and Tanner raises an eyebrow at him before pressing the stencil onto his arm and holding it there.

"Then it's gonna be a little worse than you're thinking," he only half jokes in response. He prefers that people are prepared for a little bit of pain.

"You're so reassuring."

"Always," Tanner grins at him and Rider gives an exaggerated eye roll in response. "'Kay, this good?" Tanner adds when he pulls the stencil away, and Rider turns to check out his arm in the mirror beside the table.

"Perfect," he says with a somewhat forced grin, and Tanner gives a quick nod before turning to prepare his equipment.

"So, this is gonna hurt a bit, right?" Rider blurts out suddenly once Tanner turns back to face him and gently pushes him to relax back onto the table.

"Little bit, yeah," Tanner answers honestly, pausing with the tattoo gun mere inches away from Rider's arm. "You good?"

"Yeah. Yeah, go for it," Rider tells him, glancing down at the gun in Tanner's hand and then resting his head back onto the table and staring up at the ceiling. "You're left handed," he adds distractedly.

"Mmhm," Tanner hums his confirmation, lowering the gun down onto Rider's arm.

Rider sucks in a sharp breath and his arm twitches despite the fact that Tanner can tell he's trying not to move.

"Hold still, sweetheart," Tanner murmurs, laying his other hand on Rider's arm above where he's tattooing. He holds the skin taut, and after a few seconds his pinky begins to soothingly stroke Rider's arm.

"You know what they say about lefties," Rider comments after a moment, relaxing significantly but obviously still trying to distract himself.

"Creative or some shit, right?" Tanner replies with a light chuckle.

"Super smart, too."

That makes Tanner laugh out loud. "Yeah, you give me a few more hours and I'll bust that one."

They make small talk for the duration of the tattoo; Tanner making stupid jokes with the odd flirtatious comment as distraction. While Rider directly, all out comes onto him and makes concentration incredibly difficult.

"Alright, here. Check it out before I cover it," Tanner says once he's done, gesturing towards the mirror beside the table before spinning on his seat to start on cleaning and sterilising his equipment.

"I love it!" He grins when he hears Rider's exclamation; this is always his most nerve racking, yet favourite part.

"Yeah? You sure?"

"Absolutely! I know where to come next time I spontaneously decide I want some ink."

When Tanner turns back around Rider's still checking himself out in the mirror, turning slightly every so often to see his new tattoo in different light.

"Alright stud," Tanner laughs, rolling closer to him on his stool and guiding him back to sit on the table. "Gotta hide it away for now."

Rider pouts, but holds his arm still for Tanner to give the ink one last clean and then stick a fresh bandage over the top of it. Once he's done he fishes a tube of ointment from his workstation and places it in Rider's hand, deliberately letting his fingers wrap around the other man's for a few seconds as he closes his hand around it.

"Put this on every day. No swimming, no baths and try to keep it out of the sun for a couple weeks, yeah?"

"Thanks, Tanner," Rider says as he follows Tanner back out to the front counter.

Tanner watches as he gingerly adjusts the sleeve of his shirt back down over his bicep. "It's literally my whole job, don't mention it."

"What do I owe you?" Rider asks, fishing a wallet from his back pocket.

"Dinner," Tanner blurts before he can stop himself.

What the actual fuck? Since when does he want to take someone out?

Rider just grins, slowly tucking his wallet away again before grabbing Tanner's hand and a pen from the counter.

"Text me when and where," he says, writing a series of numbers on Tanner's palm.

“Will do,” Tanner replies in something of a daze, still trying to figure out why the hell he just asked this guy out, and why the hell he isn’t taking it back.

Whatever the reason, he's not; instead he's moving to unlock the door to let Rider out, and letting him lift onto the balls of his feet to plant a kiss on Tanner’s cheek.

"Don't make me wait too long," he says playfully before turning and heading out onto the darkened street.

Well, shit. Looks like Tanner's about to go on his first ever date.

#oc-tober #og fic #oc x oc #human tanner #tanner drake #rider mcqueen

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rpgwrites · 3 years

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Looking for something unique to read?

Do you like angst and whump?

Are you looking for something to read about a protagonist whose dealing with a chronic illness?

Are you looking for a story about what chronic issues affect not only at you but their work and the people they love and care about?

Are you looking for a diagnosis? The good and bad parts?

Do you like aspects of the Mass Effect Andromeda to be explored? To see the consequences of actions taking?

Do you like medical aspects?

Then this is the story for you.

Introducing:

Amber Ryder is just trying to be a Pathfinder. It was something Alec Ryder just pushed onto her. This isn’t what she wanted. Then she became a diabetic and her whole world came crashing down. This story is about Ryder juggling being a Pathfinder and a diabetic. She soon find out getting your sugar under control comes with a lot of difficulties and challenges. It’s not as easy as it looks. Is she up for the challenge? Is she strong enough for all the challenges she has to face?

This story is complete and is more than 90k long.

What does story include:

Asexual main character

Friendship

Consequences

Diabetic type 1 main character

Diabetic Ketoacidosis (DKA)

High and low blood sugar

An unknown virus

Internal bleeding, brain injury, and memory loss

Jaal romance

Here’s some comments that can give you a clearer picture of what to expect:

I sympathized with Amber so much in this chapter. You've painted such a good picture of all the difficulties she had to overcome, and I'm sure in a lot of ways this is only the beginning for her. I really love how caring and concerned Jaal was for her throughout everything. Great chapter!

Great so far. Can't wait to see more!

Oh yeah, now we're seeing the classic symptoms: Polydipsia, polyuria, and polyphagia, in addition to fatigue and weight loss. I like how describe Ryder's progression and reaction to her symptoms.

What a predicament! It's true, life really never stops, especially for the Pathfinder, and especially when she's in the middle of a mission. I don't blame her for wanting to push on as her sugar is dropping, and her situation is a difficult one.

The way that nobody can understand Amber's issues is so sad. It would create such a lonely atmosphere for her, and it's so sad that she can't confide in Asher anymore because he just doesn't understand. That would have made for such a rough day for her on top of her discussion with Tann and Harry. Great chapter!

I absolutely love this please update soon please

SO HEAVY!!! goshhhhhhh!!! i can't even imagine how Ryder must feel x_x I like what you do with your characters, teaching people about diabetes (and to not being an ass ¬¬ i mean, please??) Good work, RPG!!!

*me casually dying from the angst in the cornerGoddess, I love this fanfiction. Like really really love it. You writing style, the Ryder you have created, the confusion that can be felt. I don’t want it to end…

You can read it here.

#The Path We Take #Hype post #F!Ryder #Jaal Ama Darav #Diabetic Ryder

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whimsyswastry · 3 years

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5 Questions for Writers

Questions & Answers under the cut. 💛

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

Honestly, my favorite to write is probably Cullen’s POV. It’s always been easy for me to get into Cullen’s head and just ... go.

However, I also really enjoy writing from cinnamon-roll!Scott’s perspective. He’s another character I can connect to fairly easily without too much critical thinking. Bitter!Scott is way more difficult, but still a joy to write!

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

I just started my first trope-based story. I mean, all of my stories have tropes in them, but this new story is one I’ve thought up solely for indulging in the ‘fake dating’ trope.

Several of my WIPs also deal with memory loss or trapping two characters who are fighting in a small area together and watching their world implode

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

I have always struggled with description. I could write dialogue all day long, but I tend to hem and haw and backtrack all over my descriptions because they’re never quite...right. But I really enjoy this description of Sara Ryder from “In the Flicker”:

“I don’t give a fuck, Sara.” My words are harsh. They’re always harsh when Alec is involved. But I take care to gently brush her too long bangs behind her ear and try and memorize every detail of her face: the sprinkling of freckles she despises across her nose, the hazel center of her eyes, the beauty mark on her left cheek, the scar on her lower lip from when I pulled her around the kitchen on her blanket pretending it was a magic carpet and she face-planted, upper tooth going right through her delicate skin. Every minute detail that makes her a little more Sara.

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

I am so much more confident in my dialogue than I am my descriptions, so it took me a while to pick a snippet. I don’t know if this is my all time favorite, but it never fails to make me smile. This comes from “The Hot Zone” a Mass Effect: Andromeda WIP.

He finally found his tongue again. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

His omnitool beeped, the orange light flashing subtly and SAM's calm voice announced, "Director Jarun Tann, Pathfinder."

Scott groaned. "Now, I know I'm gonna be sick."

Drack slipped away, a low chuckle in his throat.

"Shit…" Liam muttered.

"Ignore," Scott instructed SAM.

"He says it's urgent."

Scott bit the inside of his cheek, holding in a slew of curses and irritation that ultimately was only partially Tann's fault. "Tell him I'm on my way."

Drack appeared at Scott's side and with him a sixth drink, unique from the others they'd been downing. Instead of the murky brown of something distilled in a bathtub, this tumbler was full to the brim of a clearish white mixture that had a cold mist rising from the top. He quirked an eyebrow at the krogan.

Drack's chuckle grew louder, rumbling deep in his chest. "It'll help. Can't send you to Tann drunker than a pyjack marinating for tomorrow's roast."

"Thanks," Scott mumbled, though he should've waited to thank him until after he drank it. It tasted of rotten eggs and burned all the way down, but not the way alcohol is supposed to burn. He'd bet money his esophagus was damaged in the process and made a mental note to check in with Lexi.

Despite its putrid taste and the fact that he was still having a difficult time swallowing, Ryder did feel a little less drunk. He stood and smoothed out the wrinkles of his blue-and-whites. "How do I look?"

Liam squinted one eye and hesitated as he answered, "Good enough!"

"Tann's already so mad you blew him off that he probably won't even notice the whiskey breath."

"So that was…Whiskey?" Scott asked.

"Mostly."

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

I would love to write any scenes that DON’T happen in the first third of any of my stories lmao I am so good at starting stories, but I don’t think I’ve ever finished a multi-chapter story.

Some scenes I’m particularly excited about are (1) Ellaria learning about focus crystals from her birth mother’s clan (she’s half-elf); (2) Ellaria gaining her memory back after Adamant (in my story she loses more than just her memories of the Conclave, but also like the entire year before that); (3) Reyes turning feral when Scott [REDACTED] in “The Hot Zone”; (4) Kurt’s entire personal quest narrative that I intend to write in one sitting, but haven’t made time to do it yet.

I’m sorry this has been in my drafts for so long (like I’m pretty sure this is 2019 or earlier), but I definitely appreciate the thought @flamehairedsiren It’s been a wild couple years despite being at home for most of it.

Tagging: @radio-chatter @quietborderline & anyone else who wants to! 💛

#whimsy writes

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stitchzin · 3 years

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The King and Queen

the gif is from @fenharel but i was in @obvidalous page, go check guys.

Kaetus was there. In the prison. Once upon a time, not so long ago, she was there talking to Ven. She had just just got on Kadara, was a young pathfinder with a sword and an A.I. on her head. Now Lumina Tsuki Ryder was kicked out of the role for Scott the take over.

She would be put to second in command, but there was Cora, so she would be a cartographer. All her deeds now belonged to Scott, all the work she never liked but did her best.

Now facing Kaetus, she remembered another thing she lost.

Reyes.

Their break up was for the good of Kadara, so she did it. Scott's military mind would not question her decisions. She had to, 'cause, he doesn' t understand how a place like this works.

Some how she knew that the Charlatan was watching the vid, to make sure the Turian would not try anything against the former pathfinder. And Kian said the vids was the only way he could see her.

Lumina dosen't have this luxury, she misses him, but can't make the first move. Scott and Tann wold fuck everything up.

So... she decided to do something to make him move.

"You were there Ryder. You could have saved her, why you didn't. Why?" There was pain on his voice, and on his eyes, there was so many grumpy or diplomatic replies, but she choose to be honest.

"If it was you in my place... Would have saved him over Sloan?" The Turian slowly set down and stared at the wall, she bowed to hum in a sign of respect for his grief, even if she hated Sloan.

Neither of them could Judge each others reaction or actions now.

Pain was Pain.

The little camera on the high corner twitched the rec light. Lumina walked calmly on the port, towards Tartarus, her friends on the lower part organizing her stuff to take to their house.

The SAM implant was down, her friends smuggled so much at the mutiny that they didn't need to steal things from the outpost. The things she has payed to take to Andromeda, was now on a weird shaped, house at the edge of the port, and it were waiting to be opened.

Her games, books, and clothes.

Lumina could be Lumina again.

Reyes saw her when she got on the vehicle, her eyes meet. There was a promise there.

"Go on ahead" She got down the vehicle, walked towards Reyes, the Nomad stooped a few steps back, Scott and Cora on the outside ready to talk to her one last time to stay on the tempest. But it was ignored, her arms were around Reyes, the smuggler was surprised but please.

She was not good with affection, so it was pleasing to see some change on her.

He knew what had happend, of course, how could he not?

"Sorry Pathfinder, I am off duty now." He spit the words with charm and anger to Scott, and walked away with his arm on her shoulder, neither of them locked back.

They didn't care for their eyes on then, Jaal and Liam's face on the couple, was as priceless as Cora and Scott. Drack and Vetra seemed to enjoy the situation, the Turian female whispered. "Go on, Queen."

Both smiled. But no word were said, she just stayed on the small room, siting on his lap, head in his shoulder while he worked.

"Hijos de Puta." Reyes finally broke the silence.

"Yup, two weeks before they hit heir head on a wall." She laughed and kissed his neck... then smelled him, she missed his smell.

The gloved hands held her chin with no delicacy, like she enjoyed.

"One week." Then he kissed, passionate and slow, most of the tempest crew saw everything.

There was a statement on that kiss.

He was the King.

She was his Queen.

And God helps who disrespect the Queen.

#reyes vidal #mass effect andromeda #mass effect #mea #reyes #ryder #my oc #fanfic #reyes x ryder #scott #jaal ama darav #liam kosta

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bluerose5 · 3 years

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The Ghost of Paradise (Exile AU)

Chapter 1: Exiled

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,791

Tags: Mass Effect: Andromeda, Reyder, Exiles AU, Pre-Relationship, Drinking, Mentions of Recreational Drug Use

[Read it here on ao3.]

If there was one thing Scott used to his advantage, it was the fact that people always seemed to underestimate him. They thought him to be that sweet, lovable guy that almost everyone got along with. To them, he was simply a normal, everyday soldier who bought the Initiative's pitch like everyone else and took the leap across galaxies on a hunch.

Granted, most of that was somewhat true, but not entirely.

Like the other exiles, Scott didn't exactly wait around for someone else to come swooping in to save the day when the Initiative went to shit. Given that he was part of the original Pathfinder mission team —sent ahead on the Nexus to help prepare for the ark's arrival— he was supposed to have more say, should worse come to worst.

Yeah, because that turned out so well.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. When it was clear that the arks were delayed, it fell to Scott and the others sent ahead by their Pathfinders to call the shots on that end. That was what they had agreed upon per protocol before departing from the Milky Way.

Of course, Nexus leadership had something to say about that. They backtracked hard, citing inexperience and the lack of SAM as reasons to keep the Pathfinders' Nexus representatives from gaining power.

All Tann seemed to worry about was maintaining control over the populace, even when his choices didn't seem to be in everyone's best interests.

One after another, every attempt to establish an outpost failed. Naturally, hope began to dwindle over time, as would be expected after so many failures. It was brutal to watch, especially since Nexus leadership absolutely refused to send any of the Pathfinders' designated representatives. Scott didn't fully understand that decision. Maybe Tann thought that if he gave them an inch, then they would take a mile. Perhaps he was intimidated by the very thought that they might vie for the Pathfinder position yet again.

In the end, it didn't matter.

Scott didn't leave because they refused him the fancy title and its accompanying throne.

No, Scott left because of the utter incompetence. Kesh could handle her own as superintendent, but Tann and Addison were both a piece of work in their own right, making idiotic decisions yet never owning up to their mistakes. Making decisions that affected everyone yet never listening to the opinions of the public.

It was maddening, and Scott's eventual departure was inevitable.

Joining up with the uprising was one thing he couldn’t bring himself to regret. Scott fought to get innocent people off that station and to safety. Not everyone who left was a criminal, and they deserved better than what they got.

By the time they made it to Kadara, Scott was already tiring of Heleus. He helped take down the kett, didn't really get any credit for doing so, and jumped ship as soon as he could.

After Sloane took control of the port, Scott escaped into the badlands every now and then, only returning on occasion. She might have had good intentions in the beginning, but Scott didn’t like the direction her leadership was taking in regards to their future.

Besides, with trouble brewing between the Collective and the Outcasts, it seemed like he took the right step in venturing out on his own.

At first, he kept to himself, but it was impossible to ignore the people in need of help.

Seeds of corruption were already planted in the Outcasts' organization. Not that the Charlatan and their Collective were much better. Everything about the two factions' activities spelled trouble for all of the "little people" getting caught in the crossfire.

Scott had to do something. Ignoring the problem would only make it worse, leaving it to fester and spread like an unwelcome infection.

The gangs could beat each other up as much as they liked, but Scott was determined to make the planet safe for those who merely sought shelter from the madness. It took weeks of scouting out areas with a decent enough bedrock, weeks of surveying the angaran filtration systems, to even have a blueprint for a working water filter.

Of course, being an engineer had its perks.

Eventually, Scott managed to rig his tactical cloak for prolonged use and infiltrated one of the angaran hubs out in the badlands. He made it out with no collateral damage, taking off in the dead of night with scans of their systems. It gave him enough of an understanding to integrate their design into his own plans.

Did he feel bad for stealing as he did? Yes. Could he afford to linger on the guilt, knowing that those angara were denying the Milky Way species access to their plans? No.

Not when survival was on the line.

It was either keep giving them insane amounts of credits and supplies in exchange for a measly cup of water or take it for himself.

Scott was only glad he got in and out undetected. He would fight if he had to, but he wasn't bloodthirsty to the point that he actively sought out confrontation.

Building and perfecting his own filters took time and resources, even more so than usual since he was careful to keep any transactions out of the port under the radar. It was worth it, though. Before long, Scott had a working filtration system under his control.

And on Kadara, where there was fresh water, people soon followed.

Any exiles without gang affiliation were welcome. Most were wary to move to the area at first, understandably so, but Scott didn't force the matter. After all, it was difficult to verify whether or not this new town was a trap or the real thing. How could the exiles guarantee that it wouldn't turn out like all the other towns trying to get a start in the badlands? There one day, and burned to the ground by the next.

Hell, Scott didn't even attach his name to the place . Taking a page out of the Charlatan's book, Scott preferred a more discreet approach to leadership.

However, even Scott knew that, if he was ever going to get the place functioning properly, he would need to win some people over to his side.

Dr. Nakamoto had been the best person to off start with, and Scott didn't regret choosing him for a second. In exchange for retrieving his formula for Oblivion, Dr. Nakamoto promised his services as Scott's resident physician.

Luckily, his patients were more than happy to follow. Some even stayed, and word soon spread.

The rest, as they say, is history.

The locals started calling the place Paradise. A cheesy enough name, but it came down to a vote so Scott allowed it.

Compared to the surrounding cesspool that was the badlands, Scott figured he could understand why they would call it that. It felt like an oasis in an otherwise desolate wasteland, a place where one could go and catch their breath.

As for Paradise's "elusive leader," there was just as much speculation around their identity as there was around the Charlatan's. Although, unlike the Charlatan, all of the residents under Scott's care have met him, and all remained tight-lipped about who he was.

He was grateful for their loyalty. He never asked for it, but he was grateful nonetheless.

It prevented the gangs from painting a target on any one person's back. There were the occasional attacks on the community, but their people were stronger and smarter than the outlaws gave them credit for.

As stories of Scott's ventures spread, infiltrating and sabotaging both the Collective's and the Outcasts' operations to provide for his own people, Kadara Port started to buzz about this mysterious third party that joined in on Kadara's power play.

Truth was, Scott wasn't looking for power or influence.

He was simply looking to protect and provide, no matter the cost.

The Ghost, they called him, known for sneaking in and out without a trace.

And any time he was detected, there were never any witnesses left to tell the tale.

Those at Paradise always got a kick out of the nickname, refusing to let him live it down.

That was fine, though. Scott would rather be the people's boogeyman than to let their opposition think that Paradise will just roll over on their backs and let everyone else fuck them over without retaliation.

On Kadara, it was a dog-eat-dog kind of world. Any sign of weakness will be quickly taken advantage of.

But Scott played his part well.

Nowadays, he lived in the port more often than not, putting up with Sloane's ridiculous protection fees in order to keep the suspicion off himself and those around him.

At the slightest hint of trouble, Paradise had an emergency beacon equipped that would ping Scott's omni-tool at a moment's notice. He had the utmost faith in their capabilities, but he would be there at the drop of a hat, should he be signaled.

For now, it was time he sat back, kicked up his feet, and listened.

Crazy all the things you could find out just from listening to a conversation here or there.

As soon as Scott sat down at the bar in Kralla’s, he asked Umi for his usual.

“Starting a tab?” she asked as she wiped down the bar.

Scott was almost afraid to ask if that was blood or wine staining the rag that she was using. Then again, ignorance was bliss.

Such was the way of life on Kadara.

Scanning the area, Scott eventually nodded.

“Might as well.” He gave a long, drawn-out sigh. “I’m meeting with Reyes soon. Cheap bastard never pays for his drinks.”

“Yet you keep letting him get away with it,” Umi noted.

Scott chuckled.

“Best not to burn bridges over a few drinks,” he said, “especially when this bridge in particular filters a large majority of the goods coming in and out Kadara.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Ryder.”

While Umi continued to mix his drink, Scott tuned into the conversations around him. One caught his attention right off the bat, focused on the latest topic of discussion that was making its rounds throughout the Port.

“I’m tellin’ ya!” the human griped, words slightly slurred. “That damn place is a cult. All exclusive-like. I swear, that lot would rather sacrifice their firstborns than give up the name of their precious leader.”

“Hmph, doesn’t matter,” their salarian companion muttered. “If the outlaws in the badlands don’t take care of that group soon, chances are that Sloane or the Charlatan will, leader or no leader.”

Heh, Scott would like to see them try.

Speaking of the devil himself, Scott tensed the second he felt hands upon his shoulders, only to relax once he heard that familiar voice whisper in his ear.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone,” Reyes breathed, his lips brushing lightly along the shell of his ear.

Without missing a beat, Scott brushed him off with a playful glare.

“You’re late,” he scolded. He tried his best to sound indifferent, unimpressed. His relationship with Reyes has always been complicated at best. “As always.”

Releasing Scott from his hold, Reyes claimed the spot at his side, pretending to look properly chastised.

“I swear, it won’t happen again,” he said. He even made a show of crossing his heart. “I promise.”

“And yet, I don’t believe you.”

“Well, that’s because I was lying.”

Scott snorted, “At least you’re honest about something.”

That’s not even taking into account the whole Charlatan business, something that Reyes seemed to hold extra close to his chest with Scott around. Scott couldn’t tell if it was because Reyes had his own suspicions about him, or if he withheld that information for some other reason unbeknownst to Scott.

Either way, it took Scott a while to put the pieces together himself. Not too long, considering that the majority of the port was still puzzled over the Charlatan’s identity, but it was long enough for Scott to be as certain as humanly possible without having Reyes spell it out for him.

It was simple, really, once Scott knew what to look for. How Reyes slipped up one time about where the Collective’s base was, only to brush it off as mere rumor. How, on any job they took together, Reyes was the first to volunteer to follow up on any Collective leads. Or, better yet, how he seemed so certain whether or not an incident coincided with the Charlatan’s MO if the Charlatan was the one being implicated.

Safe to say, spend enough time with the man, and it became rather obvious over time.

As Keema was all too eager to point out, Reyes liked to think he was so subtle when, in reality, he’s not. Well, not as much as he assumed, at least.

On the other hand, maybe the Charlatan’s secret identity only became apparent to Scott because Reyes wanted him to figure it out.

If that was the case, then Scott would have to open that can of worms another day.

Right now, he needed to focus on why they were here.

Clearing his throat, Scott waited until Umi passed them their drinks and left, moving on to serve her other customers.

Scott grabbed ahold of Reyes’s sleeve and tugged. He waited until Reyes met his eyes, then jerked his chin in the direction of a nice, secluded table.

“Shall we?” he asked.

Reyes hummed, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Trying to get me alone, Scott?” Resting against the bar, Reyes leaned in close, but Scott refused to move a single muscle, holding his ground. “You need only ask.”

“I’ll keep that in mind then,” Scott said. He gave Reyes a blatant once-over, sparing his lips an appreciative glance. “It’s not every day that I get the great Reyes Vidal all to myself.”

“Keep buttering me up, Scott,” Reyes teased, “and I might just give you that discount after all.”

“Really?”

“No.”

Scott huffed.

Picking up their drinks, they soon settled in at the table that Scott had pointed out. From where they sat, they had a whole view of the bar.

Scott took a swig of his beer, and Reyes instantly followed suit, unable to take their eyes off of each other for even a second.

They sat their glasses back down with a solid thunk.

“Okay,” Scott started, “let’s get down to business.”

“Just like that?” Reyes laughed.

“Just like that.” Shuffling in place, Scott reached into his pocket and removed a small pouch filled with seeds. At Reyes’s curious expression, Scott explained, “My payment. A rather generous one, if I do say so myself.”

After Scott tossed the pouch onto the table, Reyes picked it up. He let its weight rest in the palm of his hand for a moment before loosening the ties to sneak a peek.

His brow furrowed in confusion.

“Seeds?” he questioned, cocking his head to the side.

“Yep,” Scott said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “Seeds for a ‘medicinal herb.’ My scans confirmed it. It develops antibiotic-like properties as it matures, along with some other, more recreational effects.”

And by scans, Scott meant Nakamoto. Their resident doctor was quick to jump at the chance to study the plant’s effects, especially if it could help fight off future infections in Andromeda.

Scott had started off by “borrowing” a few plants from some of their local cultivators, returning the samples to the greenhouse that they had established in Paradise.

Their latest harvest yielded a surplus, so Scott figured that any leftover seeds would be a profitable bargaining chip for trade.

Turns out, he was right.

Reyes tightened his grip upon the pouch and pocketed it, now that he knew what he was getting out of their exchange.

“A valuable product,” Reyes acknowledged, “if what you say is true.”

Smirking, Scott leaned back in his chair, hand over his heart in mock offense.

“Now, Reyes, would I ever lie to my favorite smuggler?”

“True enough. You do have a soft spot for me.”

“You’re that certain, huh?”

“As a betting man, I would say that I’m confident in my chances of being right.”

He even had the gall to throw in a wink for good measure.

Scott’s face warmed, but he ignored the sensation, trying to calm his racing heart.

Of, if only he knew…

Clearing his throat, Scott returned their focus to the topic at hand.

“Also, with that herb, you don’t have to worry about any of those nasty addictive effects like with Oblivion,” Scott continued. “I guess the high you get from it could be considered slightly addictive in more of a mental sense, but it’s relatively harmless on a physiological level.”

Reyes raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sounds like you know from personal experience.”

“I, uh—” Scott stammered, caught red-handed. “Well, what kind of salesman would I be if I didn’t sample the product for myself?”

“A poor one, indeed,” Reyes agreed. “I’m only offended that you didn’t think to invite me to the party.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I feel the urge to smoke the space weed,” Scott deadpanned.

“Please, do.”

“Okay, okay.” Scott did his best to hide his laughter. His lip quivered at the corner. “Back to business, mister. You’re not taking my goods and leaving me with nothing again.” Reyes had charmed his way out of one too many deals with him in the past, but not anymore. “Where’s the goods?”

“Scott,” Reyes gasped. “I am offended you would think that I would stoop so low as to steal from my favorite exile.”

When it was clear that Scott wasn’t buying it, Reyes surrendered.

“Alright, here. One long-ranged scanner, ready for use.” Taking out a small package, Reyes pushed it pointedly across the table. Scott took it instantly, unable to express his gratitude in that moment. “Sorry that I didn’t have a chance to giftwrap it. My best only deserves the best, after all.”

Scott felt his heart skip a beat.

“Don’t think anything of it.” Scott shook his head, clutching tightly at the package. “This should be enough.”

“Glad to hear it.” Reyes paused, hesitating before coming out with it. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s it for?”

“What else would I use a scanner for?” Scott countered. “I wasn’t on the Pathfinder’s mission team for nothing. We have a whole bunch of unexplored ruins scattered all over the surface of this planet, and I plan on getting some readings.”

To be more specific, he wanted a reading on their turrets if he could examine one at a safe distance. Even the beam technology from the Observer bots would be useful in formulating a defensive matrix for the t—

“You what?”

Uh-oh, someone was upset.

Scott grimaced. He carefully avoided Reyes’s gaze, filled with heat and disapproval.

“Reyes, come on,” Scott sighed. It was weird to see him so fiercely protective, to see him act like he cared about anything other than the next job he had lined up. “I’m a big boy. I’ll be careful.”

“Kadara’s most experienced scientists were careful,” Reyes snapped, “yet that didn’t stop the Remnant from butchering them like animals. Scott, there’s a reason why even the angara avoid those areas like the plague. The security measures alone…”

Could be what kept Scott’s people safe.

Sitting up straight, Scott held his head up high with renewed purpose, meeting Reyes’s eyes with a stubborn glare.

“I’m going,” he stated, “whether you like it or not. The information stored there might be vital to our continued survival. We can’t pass up an opportunity to learn the Remnant’s secrets.”

Reyes pursed his lips, but eventually acquiesced.

“Fine, but I’m accompanying you when you go.”

“That’s not your decision!”

“You’re not changing my mind.”

They stared each other down, caught at an impasse.

After a moment of tense silence between them, Reyes grumbled. Since that argument was obviously far from being over, he was more than willing to change the subject.

“I have another exchange for you.”

Now, that got Scott’s attention. Setting the scanner aside, he would make sure to install the upgrade into his omni-tool later, curious about this second trade-off.

They didn’t have anything else planned for today, and Reyes wasn’t usually the type to drop something like this on a client at the last second.

Whatever he found, it had to be huge.

“What is it?” Scott asked, wondering what the Charlatan himself had up his sleeve.

“A little bit of intel,” he offered, keeping his reply as vague as ever.

Still, if Reyes was offering the information, then it must be important. As shady as he could be at times, information was his forte. When Reyes used it as a bargaining chip, he meant business, and chances were that it was reliable.

Scott simply wondered if he actually wanted the news that Reyes had to offer.

“What’s the catch?” Scott asked, because nothing on Kadara came for free.

Reyes shrugged.

“My shuttle needs some repairs, and I only trust one person to fix her up. Mind coming by tomorrow?”

Scott pretended to consider his offer for a moment, but in the end, he could never say no to working on that old bird.

“Name the time and place.”

“I’ll send you the details later, but don’t make me wait up.”

“And deny you of my presence for even longer? That would just be cruel.”

“Glad we can agree on something.” Reyes’s smile soon twisted into a frown. That solemn expression certainly didn’t do any favors to ease Scott’s nerves. “As for that intel, you’ve heard of Vehn Terev, right?”

“The poor, unfortunate soul whose head is next up on Sloane Kelly’s chopping block?” After all, she couldn’t afford to upset the angara, not after word spread of Vehn's betrayal. That would threaten the balance of power too much, at least in her eyes. “I might have heard a thing or two.”

“Well, you’re about to hear much more in the coming days,” Reyes explained, watching him closely for any sign of change. “I recently received a message from Evfra. Apparently, Vehn has some useful intel of his own, intel that could potentially cripple the kett’s operations in all of Heleus for good. Evfra has arranged for me to meet with one of his contacts about securing Vehn’s release from prison.”

“A difficult feat if Sloane won’t comply,” Scott noted, “but I still don’t see why this information would be of any use to me.”

“Scott—” Reyes hesitated.

For once, he seemed genuinely nervous, which in turn caused Scott to panic a little on the inside.

What he said turned Scott’s entire world upside down.

“The contact is Pathfinder Ryder.”

#mass effect #mass effect andromeda #scott ryder #reyes vidal #reyder #mreyder #exile AU #my writing #my fanfic

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rawliverandcigarettes · 3 years

Note

Our discussion on turians made me wonder: how do you imagine the culture of the Salarian Union? (I'm sorry, you probably talked about this elsewhere, but I was too lazy to look for that, if so feel free to refer me to that post.) I find that there are surprisingly little elements about it in canon, though there are a few hints, like the fact that the planets in the Pranas system all have modern names, the previous names having been discarded, presumably, because they evoke "bygone superstition"?

Hello! Sorry I took some time. I actually rarely packaged my thoughts on salarian culture in a digestible way, so you gave me a great opportunity to give it a recap! I will go more indepth in the future for sure, but I might do a lil' overarching presentation of my general thoughts.

First, I have written an exploration/explanation of some of my headcanons regarding salarian reproduction, and it can be found here on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18872515

It is sliightly out of date and I need to do a pass to adjust some of my thoughts, but I still go by the general idea.

I also agree that there is very little things in the OT canon. I think there might be slightly more in Andromeda maybe, but I still haven't played the game so who knows!

I even believe the games kind of give up on salarian culture past ME1, where they are arguably given the most importance; we get more depth to it in ME2 through the sole and lonely perspective of Mordin; and in ME3 they are barely worth more than somewhat cheap antagonism and a couple of questionable jokes. Even right now during the promo of MELE, I felt like salarians keep being characterized as weird-cute-gross, and more like the butt of a joke than people. Even the promo for Director Tann in MEA had this "haha you get a role for a mass effect character and you thought you'd be sexy and cool TOO BAD" vibe to it, which makes me think part of the devteam (or at least the marketing side of it) don't think too highly of their very own space frogs :'(((

But to get on my actual thoughts (under the cut and the nice gif, because it won't be as long as it could be, but it's still somewhat long):

So first off, I'm trying to keep in mind how indescribably huge the Salarian Union is: we're talking about a conglomerate of planet-sized communities, moons, artificial stations, plus appendages in every large-scaled, cosmopolitan communities in Council space and possibly beyond. Just like it would be hard to talk about any united "human culture", I think the same could be true for any Mass Effect species --even though, for the sake of both narrative convenience and the tendency for globalization once communities get connected and break down communication barriers, shortcuts have to be made (and that helps make Points, and I like stories to have Points so yee).

For this reason, I have identified organizational tendencies within these communities, based both on baseline of natural grouping emerging off salarian biology (clan-based structures with matriarchal figures) and where I speculated breakdowns would happen in the modern, multicultural setting of the ME universe. To brutally over-simplify: there would be the "traditional" political organization of Sur'kesh (that I will briefly cover later), the "colonial" style (a derivation of the Sur'kesh style with more centralization), and the growing influence of ultraliberalism creeping from Council space back unto these communities, creating a myriad of variations depending on how much the communities are willing to adapt to production being controlled by corporations.

I headcanon the culture, however, to be at once: very collectivist yet an oligarchy (because dalatrasses have a right to power by virtue of existence basically), extremely eugenist to the point of having created literal, biological races that are genetically distinct from each other and cultivated to remain as such by some clans (and therefore can be very cruel towards the disabled/the imperfect at birth too), misandrist (I believe being a male salarian from a shitty clan/baronny is one of the lower forms of political existence that can be in this universe, hence why their lives in the working force are so goddamn disposable), but also designed to protect its members and have the community take care of their basic needs (so homelessness is almost not a thing, or at least used to not be a thing). I also believe the culture to be consistently young and vibrant, with lots of energy (for better and for worse). And during the time of ME, to be under economical and social duress (even gender duress!) as it sits at a crossroad regarding its future, and everyone has a lots of ideas on what this future should look like, including people gawking the outside with economical or political interests in the outcome (this basically the plot of The Empire of Preys, which is technically a prequel to Halfway Home but will be written after HH because I love chronologies that make sense and are easy to understand :) :) ).

So concerning the OG, Sur'kesh style: I have contorted a weird economical/diplomatic/land planning system into quasi-existence, that is based around a unit called the "symposium". This is a *relatively* young system in their history (still milleniums old, it really solidified in the middle of the Rachni Wars as a reaction/adaptation after several waves of imperialism that didn't really look like ours but had the same effect of flattening local cultures into a more aggressive semi-ethnostate), but central into dividing resources, workers, affect. I will not go into too much details because this is quite complicated, but these are basically commitees that will take democratic decisions among its members, based on how many clan members are appointed in both this symposium and and adjacent symposiums that might be helpful to this one --it's a system explicitely based on bribes and social influence, and getting the partial control of key symposiums is absolutely essential for Dalatrasses to maintain the influence and relevance of their respective clans. It's also a system that has, traditionally, very little use for money (it exists, but as a token of exchange that doesn't carry inherent value --if you have only access to money as a clan, you are basically worthless and won't get access to good matches or good symposium seats, or at least you used to until capitalism knocked at the doooooor and that kinda fucked things uppppppp and the society is not recovering and the gaps are getting extreeeeeme this is the plot of TEOP basically).

Oh and on the subject of the transition to more capitalist values and the decay of clans that cannot keep up, I wrote The Leftovers a couple of years ago, which talks about a young dalatrass-to-be discovering she might be sterile, right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15854244

I have a ton more things to say on the subject (and salarian culture as a whole), buuut this is getting quite long already haha.

And in regards to your question: I headcanon that salarians from one specific continent -that then became the "cultural norm" over imperialism and complications- were confronted, in a continental way, to a huge hurricane that led to incredible floods and then stagnant water and diseases, which really soured their relationship to water that was previously quite holy. This led to a very bitter enlightenment; their "Renaissance" came out of spite against nature rather than anything else, and a lot of previous ideas were abandoned for a time -then reclaimed, then abandoned again, then warped... It's complicated. :D

#salarians #salarian culture #salarian headcanons #halfway home #the empire of preys #mass effect #the leftovers #my writing #fanfiction #socio economics

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obvidalous · 4 years

Text

Fic Back Friday Sunday

Tagged by the amazing @starsandskies, thanks hon! <3

Take an older fic (or art for my artist friends) from about a year ago or older even and talk about it, show it off and hype it up.

So, this snippet comes from chapter 17 of my long fic Wake Up. I really struggled to write it, because I hadn't written anything for a year and a half at that time and I felt like I had to literaly fight with every single word before I could write it down... But the final result isn't that bad, although it's not the best thing I've ever written. I was proud I managed to finish it!

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

“All I hear is that we have to disobey direct orders, walk into a trap without a clue of what’s ahead, by a miracle get out of it somehow, and save the galaxy? That’s what we do best,” Drack grunts. “I say we go for it.”

“This is way more serious than just not following orders,” Sara objects. “Tann could declare us exiles. He’s capable of doing it.”

To everyone’s astonishment, Cora takes a step forward. “You know what? We are not having this conversation again. Fuck Tann and his stupid orders. Fuck the Third Kind. Fuck them all. We are the Pathfinder’s team. We make our own rules.”

“Well said, Cora. What a speech!” Peebee exclaims, clapping her hands with excitement.

“I couldn’t have said it better,” Gil adds.

“Who cares about Tann anyway?” Liam jokes. “But you have to promise us one thing, Ryder. No more ‘I’ll handle this on my own’. We are family, right guys?”

They all signal their approval by forming a circle around Sara. “We are family!” they shout together in unison.

Reyes, who stayed a little behind the entire time, watches them with a smile in his eyes. He never doubted that Sara’s friends would react exactly the way they did, but seeing her laugh heartily makes him feel much better about the future. Moved by the contagious enthusiasm of the crew, he too could almost start believing in a happy ending. He realizes that there’s nothing better than a loving family, and he hopes that Sara can see how lucky she is. Somehow, he wishes he could be a part of it.

Peebee chooses this precise moment to turn to him and says, “Don’t be shy, Vidal. Come on, don’t just stand there.”

“Yes, you’re a part of the team, whether you like it not. We’re in this together. All of us.” Scott makes room for him between him and his sister, inviting him in the circle.

“Whether you like it or not, I am not leaving,” Reyes announces with a broad grin as he complies and joins them. He kisses Sara on her temple and murmurs in her ear, “I’ll go wherever you go. To whatever end this may lead us, my love.”

“Oh, I know what we should do!” Peebee exclaims suddenly. “We should take a picture. One last picture all together before we officially become rebels!”

“That’s a great idea.” The others immediately agree and get into motion.

They all enthusiastically take place on the sofa and pose for the photo shoot, and Sara can’t help but grin widely. Surrounded by the people who are most dear to her, she finally feels whole. And she laughs, for real.

Now she doesn’t have to fight alone.

Aaaand I'll tag @alyssalenko @rpgwrites @natsora @ellenembee @hazelestelle @slothssassin @liaorban @lonyn @silurisanguine @felassan @heroofshield @slaytanic @guileandgall @randomlygeneratedstring @jeannedarcprice @pikapeppa

#mass effect andromeda #sara ryder #reyes vidal #reyder #tempest crew #tag meme #my writing #my edit #long post

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theoriginalladya · 3 years

Note

Intimacy Prompts #20: a hand written note for rydenko.

from this list

on AO3 here

Thank you so much for this one! Sorry it took so long - I had an idea, but I got side tracked by other things! :) Enjoy, my friend! And thank you for asking about them!

Setting: Andromeda Galaxy

~~~

It all begins as a joke.

Once his status as Pathfinder is officially recognized, the Initiative administrators cannot act fast enough to guarantee they have Kaidan Alenko on their side. As the Nexus slowly opens, finally coming out of hibernation, the administrators agree they need to do something. So, they give him an apartment.

Scott has his father’s quarters back on the Hyperion, most of the others have their own quarters or stay on the Tempest, but all Kaidan has available to him is a cryo-pod, one that’s no longer useful now that he’s awake. He doesn’t ask for anything, doesn’t even drop a hint. Tann reminds him of others back in the Milky Way, even acts similarly, but he’s a crafty one, too. In a move that is supposed to look as if the Initiative cares about their Pathfinders, they assign their lone Pathfinder an apartment. Whether or not they actually do care about him and the role is beside the point.

Kaidan, who detests being used as a political pawn but recognizes he can do nothing about it, hates it on sight.

Okay, so maybe hate is too strong of a word. It isn’t the orchard back in the BC Interior, that’s for damned sure, and it’s a far cry from shared barracks during his Alliance years. He has a room on the Tempest, so it he has some choice about where he can stay. But this… this tiny cubicle that they are calling an apartment? Four walls, open spacing, barely any room to turn around without bumping into something? There is absolutely nothing homey about it. Home, is something he’s still searching for.

That lasts about three weeks, until the day Scott drops by when Kaidan isn’t there and instead of messaging him to meet up elsewhere, leaves a handwritten note slipped beneath his door. Kaidan almost misses it when he gets back after his meeting with Tann, Addison, and Kesh. Just a small slip of paper – where had Scott found actual paper? – written in black ink. A hint of white on an otherwise light-colored floor which is barely discernable. Something about it catches the corner of his eye, though.

K – Stopped by to see you. Catch you later. Scott

Kaidan reads it twice, just in case he’s having hallucinations thanks to the burgeoning migraine before setting it on the corner of his desk, thinking to send a reply via omni-tool. But the meetings with Tann and the others are taking their toll, and even with SAM’s assistance, the pain is such he forgets until the next morning, at which point he decides to just head on over to the Hyperion instead.

Of course, Scott isn’t there.

Scott – Was in the area and thought I’d save you a trip. Better luck next time, right? Catch you on the Tempest. K

The Tempest is scheduled out the next morning and, as typically happens aboard the ship with last minute things to do and distractions of all kinds, neither he nor Scott thinks to mention the messages to the other; almost an ‘out of sight, out of mind,’ sort of thing. End of story.

Except, it isn’t.

The weeks pass, more notes appear at the apartment and on the Tempest or Hyperion. Small ones. Silly ones. Eventually, Scott starts leaving small sketches of different people on them – quick things, some cute, some ridiculous, but always they leave Kaidan smiling.

A caricature of Tann speaking with Addison and Kesh mimicking him behind his back even as Tann’s head is blown up twice the size of the others.

A small cartoon of Suvi in the galley, laser focused as she points to different Heleus rocks and explains their different tastes to a very confused looking Drack while Lexi stands in the doorway scolding her.

A stick figure sketch of Kallo and the several of the Tempest at various stages of the ship’s development.

Kaidan cannot hide his amusement at a more realistic looking sketch of Cora and Liam as they lean against one another in the back seat of the Nomad, fast asleep. He remembers the incident clearly, from their last visit to Elaaden. Even as he stares at the sketch, he swears he can hear their soft snores echoing in his ears as he tacks it to the wall over his desk next to the others.

Not to be outdone, Kaidan starts leaving quotes in his messages to Scott; from books, movies, and other inspirational sources he’s come across. He’s been collecting them for years, long before he ever left for BAaT. Most are saved on his omni-tool, but he has two small, leatherbound journals filled with the most meaningful ones he’s come across. They are about the only thing he was able to bring with him from home when he joined the Initiative.

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. (1)

The pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity. The optimist sees opportunity in every difficulty. (2)

We may encounter many defeats, but we must not be defeated. (3)

Fear profits a man nothing.(4)

With each successive note between them, Kaidan learns a little bit more about Scott. But the whole situation changes drastically after their adventures on the archon’s ship. On the way back to the Nexus and after Lexi has cleared him, Kaidan does something he hasn’t done in centuries, if ever…

~~~~

The buzzer to his Nexus apartment sounds, but Kaidan doesn’t bother to answer it. It’s Scott, and the man has his own key. The buzzer, he supposes, is Scott’s polite way to warn him that he’s arrived. The fact that Scott uses does it now of all times tells Kaidan something more; Scott is pissed.

Well, I probably deserve it after what happened.

He’s tempted to not answer, to see if Scott leaves a note, but decides not to risk it. Opening the door, he steps to the side to allow the younger man in. Scott remains silent, though his body language screams in a way that Kaidan easily recognizes. Taut, tense, his lips tightened in a thin line, the way he won’t look directly at Kaidan… It’s one side of a conversation Kaidan’s been on many times, albeit hundreds of years before and in a different galaxy.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?” Scott demands, blue eyes sharp and snapping with anger. “Any idea what could have happened back on the archon’s ship if SAM hadn’t been able to resuscitate you? You-you could have died back there!”

Opting to let the younger man get it out in one fell swoop, Kaidan bides his time. Well, except for one point of clarification. “I did die.”

Scott growls in the back of his throat. An honest to goodness growl. Kaidan can’t help the small smirk that twists at his lips as a result. When Scott steps forward, invading his personal space, Kaidan does something he usually doesn’t do; he goads him. “What? It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“Not helping the situation!”

Kaidan isn’t certain if he should be worried that SAM is, so far, remaining silent in his head. “I needed to get us out of there,” he argues instead. “How else was I going to –?”

“You? Why did it have to be you? Why is it always you?” Scott tosses his hands in the air and turns away, frustration building until his biotic corona flickers around him. Still grumbling to himself, he turns back, glaring at Kaidan. “What the hell am I going to do if I lose you like that?”

Kaidan sucks in a breath, recognizing the pain. Sure, things between them have improved since their arrival in Andromeda – no place to go but up, right? – but this…? This is a reinforcement of what he’s hoped for ever since accepting Alec Ryder’s offer.

Or am I reading too much into this?

On their private channel, SAM replies, “You are not, Kaidan.”

Scott still prowls around the room as Kaidan asks, “Can you come over here for a minute?”

“Why? So you can die on me a third time?”

Petulance is not a good look for Scott, and Kaidan has to bite back a laugh; as much as he wants to set it free, it would do more harm than good just now. “I want to show you something.”

Scott grumbles some more, even as Kaidan heads on over, but eventually he follows. When he arrives, Kaidan hands him the letter. “Read this.”

The blue-eyed glare returns, heavy with suspicion. “What is it?”

“Just read. Please.”

Scott waits another moment, two, then drops his gaze and starts reading. For several minutes, Kaidan waits patiently, watching. The letter isn’t long, but Scott is taking his time reading it, but Kaidan knows when Scott reaches the end because the younger man’s spine stiffens, his shoulders roll back, and his head snaps up as he darts a quick look up at Kaidan. “Today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the Earth.(5)”

When Scott says nothing else, Kaidan prods, “So, what do you think?”

Scott is quiet for a minute. It’s difficult to read his reaction because he keeps his back to Kaidan the entire time, slightly hunched in the shoulders, utterly quiet. “Do you mean it?” he asks, voice soft as if having trouble pushing it out.

“I always try to say what I mean, Scott.”

The younger man turns around, his face a surprisingly neutral mask. Considering how difficult that has been for him in the past, Kaidan is impressed. “So, you’re saying you consider yourself the luckiest man on Earth or, in this case I guess, the Nexus, because you survived?”

Ah, so that’s the problem. Reaching over, Kaidan settles a hand on Scott’s cheek. Scott leans into it, then apparently thinks better of it or at the very least realizes what he’s doing and pulls back. But that’s okay. Kaidan now has a far better sense of what he is working with. Running his thumb along the corner of Scott’s lips, he says quietly, “I am the luckiest man in Andromeda because you are here with me.”

Tension immediately flows out of Scott and he visibly sags a bit. “And you really mean that? Because look, I get that my Dad talked you into all of this without checking with me first, and –”

Kaidan slides his thumb over the top of Scott’s lips to silence him. “I really mean that. This has nothing to do with your dad, but everything to do with you….”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(1) The Godfather, part II

(2) Winston Churchill

(3) Maya Angelou

(4) 13th Warrior

(5) The Pride of the Yankees

#intimacy prompts #ladya writes #rydenko #scott ryder #kaidan alenko #straight on til morning #mass effect #mass effect andromeda #mallaidhsomo

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the-stage-manager · 3 years

Note

Stutter walks through the halls of Chopper base, not caring where he's going. He just needed to get away from Rex, it has only been a month since he was de-chipped. Rex has been trying to help him through everything but no offense to his brother, he just doesn't fully understand what it's like to be chipped so long, to kill younglings.

Stutter stumbles as he runs into someone, but he stands up. "I-I'm sorry." He whispers and keeps walking, not looking back.

@ct-7707-stutter

Crosshair grunted as somebody ran into him. He didn’t often work with the rebels. He did occasionally but, since the death of his wife Lenani, he mostly lived a quiet life by himself. His daughter, Tann, was actively involved in the Rebellion, however, and had convinced him to aid in a mission.

“You should mind where you’re walking,” he chastised, though his voice lacked the sharpness it had carried in his youth. He was too old and too tired to carry much anger with him. Time had taught him humility.

@ct-7707-stutter

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passcridae · 4 years

Text

Saturday, 20th March 2021; late night Hearts territory; a bar

“My husband left me!” the man declared with a flourish and a laugh, throwing his arms dramatically in the air before bringing them to settle in a loop around Sparrow’s shoulders.

“Did he, now?” Sparrow replied, his grin lopsided and charming, playing that he didn’t already know.

The husband had been the one to pay him, after all.

The post-chaotic comedown in the wake of Airang was proving to be a lucrative one for your average freelance killer, and Sparrow, above-average as he was, found his contacts flush with offers. A positive embarrassment of wandering hearts and philandering eyes were brought to unflattering light the morning after the mists ravaged the streets, and those with enough cash to burn and pure vitriol in their veins apparently wouldn’t let the injustices stand.

Still, Sparrow had been picky as he always was; he didn’t make it this far without being discerning. No figures too public, those had the potential to attract unwanted attention; highranked carried a hefty extra fee few could afford without being highranked themselves. It took a few days before Sparrow eventually alighted on one that intrigued him: Tann, the human husband of a midranked Heart, one who apparently felt scorned enough to open his pocketbook wide. Sparrow wondered if the man would lose a rank when he reached out to collect the remainder of his fee.

Tann hadn’t been difficult to find, already half-drunk at a mixed-rank bar that trended lower. The last two rounds Sparrow had purchased for him, and by now they were more than cozy at the far end of the bar, around the corner from the door and granted some measure of privacy in the shadows.

“He did, yeah. After Airang.” Tann withdrew his arms, though one hand ran purposefully down Sparrow’s arm before reclaiming his drink. “What a fucking mess. Right? People are saying that they saw whoever they loved most, reflected on everyone else’s faces.”

Sparrow inclined his head half a degree, curious. He hadn’t been paying much attention to the rumors, but it made sense people were comparing notes after the fact to try and make a modicum of sense of everything. “Really.” He considered for a moment, slow smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I didn’t see anyone who wasn’t right in front of me.”

Except every now and then, a flash of unruly blond hair; sometimes, he thought he’d smelled sulfur.

“Me neither,” Tann replied with a similarly mischievous tug of a grin, dragging a lazy thumb along Sparrow’s jaw. “Thought I’d been falling out of love with him for months, to be honest. So I came clean about it. Now, well.” His finger caught Sparrow’s chin, which the Shifter tilted obligingly. “I’m soon to be divorced.”

“Hell of a pickup line,” Sparrow countered, his smile roguish.

They both laughed, and the night wore on. Sparrow was starting to think the innuendo-laced smalltalk might drive him insane before Tann produced a small envelope that Sparrow easily recognized as yurei, and quickly reclaimed the Shifter’s wandering attention.

“I haven’t used this stuff much,” Tann admitted, thumb popping the top fold of the envelope open. “Riven -- my husband--”

“Ex-husband,” Sparrow helpfully supplied.

“Ex-husband.” Tann smiled and shook his head. “Never much approved.”

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, I ain’t Riven.” Sparrow nodded towards the envelope. “And I very much approve.”

Simply put, it was going to make his job so much easier.

“Mm,” Sparrow hummed as he shook his head, catching Tann lightly by the wrist before the man could tip any of the powdered yurei into his palm. Instead he brought the other man’s fingertips to his lips, eyelashes masking his gaze as he dragged the flat of his tongue along the pad of Tann’s index finger. The man appeared to be a quick study as Sparrow met his gaze then nodded towards the envelope, dipping his finger in to collect the powder on his fingertip. Sparrow didn’t bother to mask the look in his eyes this time as he took Tann’s finger into his mouth, the yurei sweet on his tongue as his teeth grazed teasingly along Tann’s skin.

Tann returned the favor, Sparrow feigning a smile as lips closed around his own finger. It was a struggle to suppress the way his skin crawled every time their eyes met, seeing the clear expectations in Tann’s heavy gaze. The man was in for a great deal of disappointment, if he thought he knew how this night was going to end.

It became quickly and readily apparent that Tann wasn’t kidding when he said he hadn’t used yurei much; Sparrow had to wonder if it was the man’s first time, for how garbage his tolerance appeared to be. A little embarrassing, but still: it’d only make his job that much easier. Within half an hour Tann was getting incoherent and handsy which, while irritating, was exactly where Sparrow wanted him.

Now, finally, he was able to put months of grueling practice to a more practical use.

The partial shift was visible to no one, but Sparrow knew the moment it was working; venom glands swelled in the space just behind his cheekbones and beneath his eyes, an uncomfortable but not unfamiliar stinging blooming in his skull. He caught one of Tann’s hands as it made another clumsy grab for the nape of Sparrow’s neck, the both of them laughing until Tann’s died away, the man losing his focus to the way Sparrow’s lips now met the inside of his wrist to trail lingering, open-mouthed kisses.

Fangs slowly elongated behind those soft, wandering lips, lips that eventually drew back just enough that Sparrow could sink the barest tips of his fangs into Tan’s skin. It’d taken a lot of practice, being able to control just how much venom he injected into a victim; thankfully it was something he’d worked tirelessly on in a full shift, such that adapting it to partial use only took a couple weeks’ worth of practice on his own. The prick of his fangs would feel like little more than a nip of affection, the drops of venom evaporating into Tann’s bloodstream without so much as a brief sting.

As Sparrow drew away, though, and let the fangs shift back to simple canines, he felt it: a single drop of his own venom, weighty and bitter, landing to mix with the sweetness of yurei on his tongue.

Sparrow froze. Tann was laughing and saying something Sparrow didn’t care enough to hear, the words distant as his mind raced. Snakes were immune to their own venom, but he hadn’t considered: did his snake side recognize his human side as him? Would that venom still consider them one and the same? Or would he have to find a way out of here very quickly in order to do a proper shift?

A few long, drawn-out moments passed. Tann was saying his name, or rather -- he was saying the fake name Sparrow had given him. Still, Sparrow waited as his heart thudded in his ears. Eventually, he refocused on Tann with a hard, critical eye, one the human flinched under the foreign weight of. Already Tann’s brow was beaded with sweat, and his movements were more sluggish than one ought to expect simply from drink or yurei.

Sparrow felt nothing. Eventually he eased back into a smile and Tann relaxed again, even if his answering laugh was weaker. He still made another attempt to pull Sparrow in for a kiss, and this time, Sparrow let him.

By the time Sparrow abandoned his target, Tann’s head was pillowed on the bar, unconscious. The rest of the envelope of yurei had been tipped into what was left of his drink, the powder dissolving with a sickly-sweet potency. An intentional overdose, some might think, carried out by a desperate man on the brink of divorce. Others might wonder at an overzealous rookie, inexperienced with yurei’s strength. Sparrow didn’t particularly care after the assumptions of others since no one was likely to figure out the truth, not with such minute traces of venom in the man’s system. It’d taken next to nothing to do the job: he was only human, after all. Kadeu would hardly mourn his passing, if it even noticed at all.

#solo: crimes of the heart #i should proofread this more but #y e e t #shoutout to eva #i'm sorry he's doing reprehensible things with the lovely training you've been giving him :<

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xwing-baby · 4 years

Text

Freedom (Mandalorian X Reader

Characters: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin), The Child, Reader, OC Vinca Dara

Warnings: Mentions of sexual abuse, canon level violence

Word Count: 5691

Synopsis: Y/N is a princess from a planet in the inner rim. Successfully escaping her fate as a Imperial wife, she unfortunately becomes a target for the Mandalorian.

A/N: WOW I look pretty good for a dead bitch! I’m back after a two year writing hiatus, with a fic nobody asked for. This is my blog I’ll do what I want. I noticed that there’s not much Mandalorian stuff here, and the only stuff is all smutty and romantic. No more. Strictly professional relationships here. Basically it’s what I would write if I got to be a writer on the show. ENJOY

Tagged: @tortles @inked-poet @dartheldur

My home planet, in the core of the galaxy, was rich and prosperous. I grew up happily oblivious to any struggle that surrounded me outside the palace walls. I grew up with two older brothers, both jostling for the throne from the age of ten. My mother died in childbirth with me, so my father ruled alone. I had no other family, as I would later learn they had all been murdered by my father and his men to ensure his unopposed ascension to power.

It wasn’t until I was nearly sixteen years old that I learnt about what my father had done and what was really going on behind the palace walls. The only time I’d ever been allowed out of the palace grounds until that point was for public events, I would stand and wave and smile at the people who came to see us while my father gave a speech about peace and prosperity. However, on my sixteenth birthday I met a boy named Han. Han helped me escape for that one night, showed me around the surrounding city, and my life changed forever.

A year later, I made my first escape attempt. I didn’t get very far beyond that city perimeter before I was dragged back by the royal guards. I tried again, getting to the next town before again being captured and sent back to my father.

On my eighteenth birthday, I decided I would try once more. This time I had enlisted Han’s help, now a smuggler, to get me off the planet. I crept out in the depths of night, managed to find the ship and I was gone. That was until the captain of the ship found out who I was, held me hostage and shot me in the arm for trying to escape him and the planet. As it turned out the captain was a great supporter of my father and returned me, with a small fee for the favour of course.

For the next year, my father kept me under close supervision. But unlike my father, I had sympathy and empathy. I managed to make friends with my supervisor, a old lady named Ellyn. She taught me a lot about what was really going on outside the capitol. The famines and the abuse from the royal guards to the local people. She also told me of the growing concern within the palace of my father’s changing allegiance from the New Republic. These concerns only grew when Storm Troopers were spotted on the outskirts of the city.

Then I got the news. My father was intending to marry me off to Vinca Dara, the son of an Imperial officer, to aid the new Empire. I was horrified. My uncle had told me stories of the Old Empire when I was little, the pain it brought into the galaxy. The thought of having to be a part of anything like that made me sick. I had to run away, for good this time.

With Ellyn’s help, I managed to barter a ship and escape the planet without anyone realising. I reached the outer rim before anyone knew. By the time anyone had started to look for me I had landed on a new planet.

And that brought me here. A small, dirty back street bar in the centre of the city. The outer rim was not somewhere good for a princess to be, so to avoid the risk of anyone recognising me, I cut my hair, changed my name and hid.

Of course, a few bounty hunter’s had made their way to me. But I seemingly had luck on my side because they either gave up or I fought them off before they could capture me. The last attempt was several months ago now, I was comfortable and certain that my father had just given up.

The bar was busy, as always. Full of criminals and outcasts from the inner rim searching the wild space to something to do, or to give them purpose again. I had to learn fast who and who not to joke with. I learnt a lot more about the galaxy in the last three months of being in this cantina than I had in my life so far.

“Hey! No droids!” I called, not even lifting my head from the sink as I spotted a glint of metal in the corner of my mind.

“That’s not a droid, you idiot,” My coworker, Tann, jabbed me in the ribs, “That’s a mandalorian!” He hissed. “Sorry, she’s new!” He apologised. The Mandalorian didn’t respond.

“New to the galaxy,” One of the creatures at the bar slurred into his drink.

“Alright Rex calm down,” I said, a little embarrassed. “I don’t know they were real,” I said quietly as we all watched the man sit down at an empty table on the other side of the bar. Rex laughed and shook his head.

“You really crawled out from under a rock or something?”

“Just go do your job, please,” Tann sighed.

I nodded and confidently walked over to the bounty hunter.

“What can I get you?”

“I’m trying to find Asker,” The Mandalorian said, looking around behind me. Asker was a regular, a troublemaker and a renowned criminal, but he was paid his bill so the owners of the bar never minded too much. I wondered why the Mandalorian was looking for him for a moment before answering.

“He left a little while ago,” I replied, “But I imagine he won’t have gone far, maybe try the hostel up the street. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thank you,” The Mandalorian shook his head and stood up to leave.

“Mando!” The pot bellied Asker bellowed through the bar, announcing his presence before he waddled inside. For such a small creature he certainly knew how to make himself known. Asker was just over four feet tall, with grey-ish skin. His large eyes took most of his face that wasn’t covered by a whiley red beard. For someone so small, he was incredibly strong and quick on a trigger, the blast marks that covered the walls of the bar were testament to that.

The Mandalorian and Asker walked together to the darker back of the bar, specifically reserved for Asker's shady business. Like I said, the owners didn’t really care as long as he paid the bills.

“You know Mando, it’s been for too long! I missed you,” Asker cried.

“You didn’t,”

“No, not really,” Asker barked a laugh, “but I did miss your talent. These new hands they’ve got at the Guild? Awful! Can barely even shoot straight! I’ve been trying to get this quarry off my hands for weeks! All of the have been unsuccessful, so I thought it’s high time I call my lovely friend Mando and get some real professional on the job,”

“I don’t work for you,”

“Not even for half a million credits?”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,can I get you anything?”

“The usual, thanks darling. My metal friend here can’t drink so he’s all good,”

“Coming right up,”

I stepped back to the bar, and they talked a lot quieter from then. I poured the drink and walked back over, back in earshot of the conversation.

“Kids a royal runaway,” Asker said quietly. “Her father is a pretty big deal out in the Mirrin Sector. Last I heard, she’s here in hiding,”

“Any name?”

“Y/n L/n,”

I put the drinks down carefully, trying not let either of the men see how much my hands were shaking. My heart was racing against my chest and I scurried away before I could hear anything else. I leant against the bar and took some deep breaths and tried to calm down. It was fine, I’d fought off the last guys I could do it again. It’s not like mandalorian are the best bounty hunters in the known universe, no. Oh stars!

“I’m going out for a minute,” I said quickly, already walking out the back door before he could even say yes. I pulled the apron off from around my waist, shoving it into a cargo box before stepping into the bright light outside.

I squinted and let my eyes adjust to the bright light. Looking back inside, the Mandalorian had not noticed me leave. I was safe for now. I walked through the city's crowded streets, back to where I was staying to come up with a plan.

I smiled to myself, I’d gotten away with it once again! But four times was too many to be nearly captured by bounty hunters. It was no use anymore just moving to the city, I had to get off the planet.

The port was quiet, as it would be late in the afternoon. Everyone was either eating or sleeping while the sun started to cool down. I tried the first few stations but each door was locked, the next was empty and the one after it was covered in druids working on the rusted shell. Then, bay 8. The door was open, there were no druids around and the ship looked in pretty good condition. It was old, pre empire but it looked steady. I quickly checked behind me, that no one had seen me, then went inside, pushing the large gate shut behind me. I had found my ticket out of here.

My uncle had taught me to fly when I was very little. He unfortunately was murdered by my father before I turned 12 but I cherished the memories I had with him and was extremely grateful for the skills he had passed on now. The first time I ran away I ended on a workers ship and learnt very quickly that the price to pay to get onto the ships and out alive was far too high. The blast scar up my right arm was a reminder of that. Being able to steal a ship and fly it on my own was a major boost. Unfortunately I had been caught before I had managed to leave a planet before. Now was my chance.

I ran around the ship first, checking it out and making sure there was no one hiding on it. Now, to get inside...

Before I could even step closer to it, the cargo load hissed and pulled open. I pulled out my blaster and aimed it at the door. I stepped onto the metal once it hit the sand, and barely had the other in step when I saw who had opened it.

The Mandalorian.

Shit.

I kept my blaster raised, and we both stared at each other down for a few moments.

“You’re Y/n L/n?” He asked carefully.

“Are you going to kill me if I am?” I retorted. “Cus you’re not the first Asker has sent after me and I know my father wants me alive there’s no way you’re gunna kill me if you want the credits,”

“Lower your weapon,” He commanded. I refused.

I kept it steadfast. I could do a standoff, all day. I was not going back home. The mandalorian sighed and shot once, barely missing my head, as a warning. I didn’t flinch.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Tin Man. Asker must have said I don’t come easy,” I jeered, taunting him. He couldn’t kill me! Wouldn’t risk half a million credits on that. The mandalorian stepped forward, and I took two steps back. “I just want to get off this planet, I’ll pay you. More than you’ll

get for bringing me in,”

Before I could say anymore, the Mandlorian fired a dart into my chest. I looked down at it for a moment, then back at him then fell to the ground. Black.

I came too sometime later, handcuffed to the side of the Mandalorian’s ship. My hands and feet here tied. It was quiet. Looking around me, I was in the hold. A small ladder disappeared above me to the rest of the ship. I had no idea where we were, had he taken my request? Or was I on my way back to the hell hole that is my home planet.

I had to find some way out. Someway to get myself free. I tried to move to reach a tool box so cruelly just out of my reach, but it was no use. Then I heard a little squeal from behind a box. I turned to see where it was coming from but there was nothing. Again, another squeal and a giggle? Was it a rat? I wouldn’t be surprised if there were rats aboard, the place hadn’t been cleaned in forever. But rats don’t giggle, no matter where they’re from.

Suddenly, a tiny green creature popped up from behind the box. It peered at me for a moment, then hid again. It was so cute!

“Hey little buddy,” I said quietly, “I won’t hurt you,” The creature slowly stepped out and babbled something at me. I didn’t understand what it said, even if it was speaking any proper language. “Where’d you come from buddy? He got you trapped here too?” The baby giggled and waddled over to me. I smiled and curled my legs round underneath me to let it get a bit closer. I didn’t see any danger in a creature so small. “Why does Mandalorian have a little baby? You’re not his kid are you?”

“Hey! Get away from her,” The Mandalorian had appeared in the hold while I was focused on the baby. The baby babbled and toddled back happily to the Mandalorian.

“What is that?”

“Nothing,”

“It’s not nothing, it’s a baby,” Suddenly I remembered I had seen a drawing of a creature like that one before. My uncle told me about it, a Jedi master or something. “Do you know what it is? My uncle showed me a picture of one of those once, it was a jedi! I bet it can do weird stuff, right? Where did you get it?”

The Mandalorian ignore my questions and picked up the creature, walked across to the other side of the hold and put it away in a large cupboard. Cruel. I became spiteful.

“Fine, ignore me then. I’ll just report you to the Guild when I get back home. Tell them you have that thing! People would pay good money for information on a Mandalorian gone rogue! And to think Mandalorian and Jedi were enemies for years, didn’t they murder your kind to near extinction? Seems weird you’ve got one in a box as a pet,”

“It’s not a Jedi, and you won’t tell anyone. If I find you have, I will kill you, on sight,”

“You’ll be doing me a favour,” I spat.

I could tell he was angry, the way his hand waved over his blaster for just a second. I should have been scared of him, deep down I was. But the fate that awaited me at home was worse than being killed by this bounty hunter. I knew we can’t be far now. I didn’t have much time left to convince the Mandalorian not to send me back to my father. If it came down to it I really would rather die.

The Mandalorian disappeared up the ladder once more, satisfied that I wasn’t going to cause anymore fuss right now. Before I could even call after him to try and make amends and get him to actually help me, the hatch slammed shut and it was too late.

---

A few hours later, I had dozed off but was harshly awoke by the Mandalorian shaking my shoulders.

“We’re here,” He stated, pulling me up by the shoulder. I shrugged him off, and stood up on my own. My feet had been untied already, I rolled my ankles and sighed as my body clicked. The bounty hunter wasn’t having it, grabbed my arm harshly and dragged me down the ramp to the ground. “Come on,”

The site of my home planet made me sick. It was happening. For months I had managed to be unknown, successfully getting away from this place. But I was now being dragged back, by a Mandalorian none the less, to be dragged through my city like a criminal.

The Child reappeared as we stepped off the ship, babbling quickly and waddling as fast as it could. The Mandalorian grumbled unintelligibly and dragged me back up, collected the child and locked it away, pulled me back down to the soil of the planet. I could hear the creature complain from its little box and wondered if it was trying to help me. Whatever it wanted, the Mandalorian ignored it, closed the cargo door and we walked into the city gates to my family's palace.

The site of the grand building made me sick. When I was younger I didn’t know of anything different, I didn’t know of the suffering of the people beyond the city walls. The people who worked tirelessly everyday on the lush fields only to be paid single credits for the hard labour, and all the food going to my family and court. I never knew of the suffering and poverty that my father ruled over while we lived such lavish lives inside. I had tried to explain it to my brothers after my first escape attempt, they just laughed. Said that that was just the way the world worked. There was a set order. I hated it, actively spoke out against them but all it did was get me slapped and set away to my chambers.

We were met by my father and two brothers in the great hall. Staff stood to attention around the perimeter, glaring at me like I was dirt, as I was dragged in in disgrace by a bounty hunter.

“My daughter, you’re safe!” My father exclaimed, throwing his arms up in praise. There was no kindness or love in his voice. “Get her inside, we can’t have her escape again,” He gave a cold laugh as I was given to a new set of guards. My brothers jeered and laughed in unison with their idol. “I understand you’ve been paid by Asker to do this?” My father addressed the Mandalorian now. “Fucking idiot couldn’t catch his own breath. Here,” He threw a large bag of credits at the bounty hunter. “A million in full.” The Mandalorian nodded, putting the bag into his belt. “You don’t know how great a service you have provided to the galaxy,” My father continued with a wicked smile stretched across his wrinkling face. “A girl like her will surely be the mother of our new empire,”

I nearly threw up, the enormity of my situation now crashing on top of me. I tried to look to the Mandalorian for help but again it was no use. I was marched off into my new, secure, chambers to await my fate.

The Mandalorian frowned beneath his helmet but said nothing whilst in the presence of the King. He’d finished the job, there was nothing else for him to do here. He’d never got involved in politics before and now was not the time. He knew these were not good people but he was not in a place for judgement either.

He returned to his ship, pleased with the doubling of the earnings from this trip. That amount of credits meant he could lay low for a long while with the Child and finally work out what to do with it.

Back in the ship, the Child would not settle down. In the few months the Mandalorian had the creature he had never seen it like this. It cried and grumbled, wouldn’t sit still or fall asleep. He knew what the problem was.

“I can’t do anything about it!” He explained to the Child. “It’s not my problem. The credits I got from that job will keep you in food for weeks!” The Child grumbled and wailed. “Go to sleep,”

-- 4 Months Later --

It was a simple quarry for a quick bit of cash. The ship needed to be patched up after it had run into an asteroid field. The quarry was from a jealous man on Corellia after his wife’s lover. Easy.

The planet was rich and bustling with people, making the Mandalorian disappear into the background. He swept through the city in search of his bounty, following the tracker in his hand. He was only slowed down by a large crowd which had gathered at the town’s centre. A small stage was set up across the square, with many people surrounding it on all sides. People even hung out of their windows to listen and watch what was going on.

A familiar face on the stage caught the Mandalorian’s attention. It was Y/n. Now looking like the shell of her previous self. A black cloth covered her head and moth, leaving only sunken sad eyes on show which were covered in gold makeup. She stood smaller, next to a man talking passionately and animatedly about something. The surrounding chatter from the town’s people drowned out what the man was saying.

The Mandalorian carried on on his mission, shaking off any guilt he had. Bad things like this were always happening throughout the galaxy. There was nothing he could do.

- --

My new life as Vinca Dara’s wife was awful. Far worse than I had ever dreamt.

I was dragged from planet to planet, city to city trying to recruit and inspire rebellion. We travelled to the furthest reaches of the galaxy, as far from the New Republic as possible to try and gain sympathy for a new regime.

I was miserable, abused and exhausted. My husband’s forcible attempts at producing an heir were proving futile and he was getting restless. It was like my body even rejected the idea of giving him a child. I figured it was only long before he killed me. He’d been close before when I lost the last child.

This was a big event. There were already a large group of rebellion supporters on the planet and Vinca Dara and his team were hopeful. I was to stand next to him, looking pretty while he addressed the city, then be his arm candy to a private event with the planet’s leaders.

The evening’s event was filled with the planet’s most horrible people. I wore a tight royal blue dress, my hair down and flowing over my bare back. Vinca Dara had left me to my own devices a little while ago, instructing me to convince some of the ladies of ‘our’ new ideas for the galaxy. So I stood and mingled with the guests wive. They were not interested in politics and rather talked back local gossip which was rather refreshing after months of nothing but plans of death, destruction of the New Republic. A little alarming that they did not care, but I welcomed the break nonetheless.

As I listened to the women, my eyes wandered around the party. Many different species and races all in one room with staff waiting hand and foot, scurrying between the clusters of people. Then, something caught my eye. A flash of blue baskar, glinted in the light from the corridor just outside the room. That had to be the Mandalorian! I thought I had seen him in the city but I thought I was imagining it. He was here!

“Excuse me ladies, I just need to freshen up,” I excused myself from the group and went to find him. This was my chance. Summoning all the courage I had in me, I followed him.

It took a moment to work out which way he went but a sharp shot from inside one of the servants quarters told me exactly where it was. He was lucky the party was so loud, I thought.

Checking nobody was following me, I carefully pushed the door open As soon as I entered the small dark room the Mandalorian held his gun to my face, finger on the trigger ready. I threw up my hands and pushed myself back against the door.

“Don’t shoot!” I exclaimed. The Mandalorian did not lower his gun.

“What are you doing here?”

“I-I’m hosting the par-,”

“Here, I mean here right now,” He interrupted, obviously agitated.

“I need your help,” I said honestly. The Mandalorian didn’t reply, but lowered his gun and returned to the dead body on the floor. “Please. My husband will kill me if he doesn’t get a child soon and… and I can’t do it. Please, I need to get off this planet. Away from him,”

“I’m working,”

“I’ll pay you!” I exclaimed desperately. “I’ll give you everything I have. I just need to get out of here, out of this solar system,” The Mandalorian stopped and looked at me for a moment, the helmet completely unforgiving in guarding his expression. “Please,” My bottom lip began to tremble and tears welled in my eyes.

“No. Go back to your husband,” The Mandalorian turned back to his task. My desperation turned to anger in that moment, I stormed over to him.

“You know he’s been looking for the Child,” I said spitefully, looming over him as he knelt down with his victim. The Mandalorian looked up at me and stood up slowly. “That green thing you keep as a pet? If you won’t help meI will go to him and tell him you have it, that you’re on this planet,”

“Are you trying to blackmail me?”

“Help me and Dara will never know,” I said slowly, staring directly into his visor.

The Mandalorian was quiet for a moment, I held my breath. This was it. My last chance at freedom and even this was the man that brought me to be in this situation in the first place he was my only hope.

“Put that on,” He finally said, gesturing to the pile of servants' clothes piled on a table to the side of the room. “And help me move this body”

I nodded quickly and moved to the clothes. I untied the neck of the dress, the bounty hunter respectfully turned back to his victim as I undressed. The clothes were far too big and made of a very itchy material but I didn’t have much choice. I tied my hair up in a ponytail. The only reminder of who I was, was the gold makeup across my face and sandals on my feet.

I stood on look out while the Mandalorian pulled his bounty into a bag and dragged it out the building. A transporter waited outside.

“Take that one, with the bounty. My ship is out on the east fields. You’ll see it,”

“What about you?”

“I’ll meet you there,”

I nodded, unsure of why he was trusting me with his bounty but it was the easiest way to go out of the city unnoticed. I dodged in and out of people on the streets, finally coming to the East gates. Two guards sat asleep at the post and didn’t even wake to see me go. As I rode out into the open land, I began to laugh. The suns were setting beautifully over the horizon casting beautiful colours into the sky. I was free!

I sped through the fields, towards the familiar ship a little way away. The noise another transporter hummed behind me. I figured it was the Mandalorian so I didn't bother to look back until a red shot flew past my head, narrowly missing me, and exploding in the grass. I screamed and swerved violently, nearly losing all control of the vehicle.

I turned back quickly, to see who was attacking me. My husband led a band of four guards on smaller bikes. That bastard Mandalorian must have told them I was trying to escape!

I sped up, racing towards the hills in the distance. I skipped down between ditches and ploughed through crop fields to try and evade capture once again. They remained on my tail.

Another two shots fired out, missing me again. “Stop! Y/n! Stop right now!” My husband called out. I held my hand up in an offensive gesture, turning back to narrowly miss a large boulder. I was getting into the forest now, it was becoming more difficult to maneuver the heavy vehicle through the trees.

The trees became denser and I decided I could move better on foot without the extra weight.

“I’m going to fucking kill you Y/n!” My husband screamed. I could imagine his horrid sweaty red face, that awful vein that pops on his forehead when he’s angry. I shuddered, and kept running.

I jumped into a small creek, the water soaking the ends of my trousers and nearly bare feet. The hum of the transporters had disappeared, they were on foot. I noticed a cave and decided it would be best to hide there while they were some way behind. I crouched down and sat in the warm water, my body pressed against the back wall, hidden from sight.

“Y/n!” Vinca Dara screamed again. This time multiple shots followed and a crash as something fell into the water. “You can’t hide forever!”

They were getting closer. A red shot splashed into the water in front of the mouth of the cave. I jumped and hit my head on the low roof, making me yelp. I clamped my hand over my mouth praying that I wasn’t heard. I pushed myself further into the dark and shut my eyes as more shots rang out. Shouting erupted from above me and heavy footsteps splashed through the water.

I whimpered and curled up into my knees, screwing my eyes shut, waiting for the end to come.

“I told you to go to the ship,” A metallic voice said from the front of the cave. I opened my eyes and gasped in relief. It was the Mandalorian! I pushed myself up out of the water and walked over to him, my relief turning into rage.

“You sold me out!” I screamed, pushing him as hard as I could. “You fucking told them!” The bounty hunter remained calm, and was not at all affected by my attack.. “You fucking bastard!”

“If I did, why would I be here now?”

“You-,” I stopped and saw the three bodies floating in the water around us, “You killed them?”

“I thought you still had my bounty,” The Mandalorian said nonchalantly. I smiled.

“Thank you,”

Seemingly satisfied that I wasn’t in any more danger, the Mandalorian turned and began to walk back to his ship. I quickly followed behind, not wanting to be left behind again. I stepped over my husband’s dead body, pleased by the multiple shot wounds that had killed him. He deserved a bloody death. I ran to keep up with the Mandalorian, and jumped back on the abandoned transporter, following him back to the safety of his ship,

“Thank you again. And I promise I will send those credits to you as soon as possible,” I thanked him again once we were inside. I sat on a crate, and pulled the ruined sandals off my feet.

“It’s not necessary,” The Mandalorian said, his back turned to me as he put away his weapons.

“Yes it is. I am a woman of my word, I owe you my life,” I said sincerely. The Mandalorian shut the cabinet and turned back to me.

“Where would you like to go?”

“I don’t care. Just drop me off wherever you are going next. As long as there's opportunity for work and a place to sleep I will be fine. I just need to be as far from all of that as possible,”

“I’m going to Nevarro next,”

“Sounds perfect,”

I sat in the back of the cockpit while the Mandalorian flew off the planet. I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face as the planet soon disappeared into the vast black of space behind us. I had finally made it out, with both my father and husband dead I knew no one would come looking for me. I was truly free.

“Hello again,” I cooed to the Child as he toddled over. The baby babbled and giggled when it recognised me and raised its arms to be picked up. I happily obliged. “You’ve grown! Yes! Oh aren’t you just the cutest little thing!” I tickled its large ears, making the child laugh. “I don’t know how you get anything done with this thing around. He’s so cute!” I said to the Mandalorian. He didn’t reply.

I shrugged it off, and went back to playing with the baby. The stress of the day finally settled in, and I yawned, absolutely exhausted. The little creature in my lap, copied and babbled at me. I smiled softly as sleep began to take over me and stroked its little head until I fell asleep.

A rumble awoke me, we had entered the Nevarro atmosphere. I sat up from my slumped position and sighed as I stretched. The Mandalorian turned around, I smiled and he turned back. The Child was sitting on the desk, playing with a silver ball too busy to notice I was now awake.

We landed without any trouble.

“So I guess this is it,” I said. “I will forever be indebted to you Mandalorian,” I bowed my head in reverence, “Are you staying here very long?”

“A few days possibly,” He said as we walked towards the small settlement. “I’ve got some business here,” We walked in silence for the rest of the way until we reached the gates. “There’s a cantina not too far from here, tell them I sent you and they’ll give you work. There’s plenty of rooms to stay in here,”

“Thank you,” I smiled, “I will sort those credits out as soon as possible,”

“It-,”

“I swear bounty hunters don’t usually refuse money,” I laughed. “Take it, and I’ll see you around, hopefully not too soon,”

“See you around,”

We shook hands and parted ways. My life had finally begun.

#mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian x you #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #x reader #x y/n #star wars fan fiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fandom #star wars #baby yoda #fanfiction

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rpgwrites · 4 years

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The Path We Take - Chapter 21: Jokes and Mockery

Many thanks to @pip-n-flinx for betaing.

Many thanks to @ripley95things, @natsora, @pigeontheoneandonly, @fromathelastoveritaserum, @missmeggo929, and Musi (discord) for reading this chapter beforehand and giving me their opinions and suggestions. I really appreciate it!!

I’m posting the whole chapter on here because this can also be read as a one-shot.

Story Summary:

A cold feels innocent enough. Ryder has them all the time while she was back in the Milky Way. But when things doesn't add up, and a cold went from bad to worse. What if its connected to the Archon somehow? Ryder wishes she never met the Archon. This might change her life for the long run.

Chapter 21: Jokes and Mockery

Read it on AO3

“Ready to go back?” Asher asked.

They were walking around the Nexus. Harry had said it would do him some good, but Amber could see how the walk was tiring him out."

“Back to the med bay or back to work?” Ryder joked.

“Ha ha. Very funny,” Asher mocked between deep breaths.

Of course Ryder knew what he meant, but when she saw the opportunity she had to take it.If their roles were reversed he would do the same thing.

“Seriously though,” he nudged her at her side. “How do you feel about going back?”

Ryder felt happy. In the first time in months, she felt much better about dealing with her diabetes than she had before. She had a great chance of getting her sugar right. Ryder could win this.

“You make it sound like I was away from work for months. But,” she nodded and took a deep breath, “yeah, I'm excited.”

Asher was smiling, but she wasn't sure why, “You deserve this.”

They'd been walking behind an Asari and a human woman. Ryder wasn't listening to their conversation until something caught her ear

“So, a friend sent this sample. It is so sweet,” the brunette said.

“Oh? How sweet Janette?” the asari asked, needling for more details.

"It’s so sweet it’s going to give me diabetes.”

Ryder stopped. There’s no way what she heard was correct. People couldn’t be that stupid.

Anger engulfed her. Ryder didn’t know why but it felt like she insulted her in a way she wasn’t insulted in her life before. To say this, was unacceptable to her ears.

But her limb was moving without her permission and her hand flew, punching the brunette whose name was apparently Janette. Everything was moving fast, the impact of the punch took her a few paces back. The asari looked shocked. And her brother rushed to her side.

“What-“ the asari started to say but the look of recognition stopped her in the tracks. “You’re the Pathfinder.”

Ryder opened her mouth to say something. She wasn't entirely sure what, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Sorry about that.”

Did Asher just apologize? What the hell? Why would he do that?

She swiftly turned around, “You do not apologize for me!”

Janette rubbed her injured cheek. “Why the hell did you punch me?”

There was no need to look at them. Ryder could feel the eyes on her and for a moment she was speechless. Why had she punched her?

She ran the situation in her head over and over again.

It’s so sweet it’s going to give me diabetes.

But why did that bother her? Scratch that. Why the hell would someone say that? Was this a joke? Because they couldn’t be serious.

There were so many things to compare how sweet a thing can be, so why compare an illness to it? An illness that’s been there for many years. One that people struggle with every day.

Something that can slowly kill you. That you can’t beat no matter how hard you try. Something you can’t escape no matter what you do. That meant living with horrible complications.

Did the brunette think this wasn’t serious? Did she think people that dealt with this did this to themselves? That they wanted this? Who would want this?

Amber Ryder did not do this to herself.

The more she thought about it the angrier she got.

“What the hell is wrong with you that you would use an illness to describe the sweetness of something?” Ryder didn’t know how long she said nothing, but it was time to do something.

The brunette’s blue eyes were bewildered. She wasn’t sure if Ryder was serious or not. She dismissed it with a wave of her hand, “Oh, that’s nothing. It’s just something people say. I meant nothing by it.”

Ryder was going to explode. She meant nothing? It made matters only worse.

“If that bothers you,” while the brunette spoke Asher hid his face in his hand, “then you’re sensitive, Pathfinder.” She snorted.

Despite having only met Ryder moments ago, the asari had a much better read on the situation. She placed her hands on the brunette’s shoulders. “Janette, you need to shut up now.”

“I’m not backing off!” Janette was mad, and Ryder didn’t understand why. She insulted her. Ryder was anything but sensitive. “She punched me.”

“I have a valid reason.”

“Amber,” this time her brother spoke. “You need to cool off. Walk away.”

“I’m not going to take a damn walk.” All of them were looking at her hands and when she looked down she understood why. Her hands were engulfed with blue, she was flaring. She took a deep breath and got a hold of her biotics.

“C’mon,” Asher said as if she said nothing, “we have to get back.”

While Asher got a hold of Ryder, the asari got a hold of the brunette – Janette. She didn’t want to back off, cool off. And neither did Janette.

“This is not over! You’ll hear from me again.”

****

Neither Ryder nor her brother said anything until they took the tram ride. The silence was eating away at her.

“What the hell was that?” Asher asked.

Ryder could feel the tram moving and she held onto the railing. She was never this thankful that nobody else took the tram with them. “What?” she shrugged. “Was I unreasonable?”

Asher pinched the bridge of his nose, and Ryder had to wonder if it was because of what just happened or a headache. “It’s not that you were unreasonable. This is so unlike you.

“Oh, so what? I should just let her insult me?”

Asher frowned, confusion was clear on his expression. “What? She didn't insult you. That wasn't directed at you.”

He didn't see it. What Janette said sent a stab through her chest. It wasn't what she said but what it represented. Was that how people saw it? That this was just a diet and nothing else? Did she actually think one could get diabetes like that? It was ridiculous. Janette mocked something that changed her whole life.

“And what she said afterwards wasn't?” she threw back. She didn't agree with him, at least not fully, she knew it wasn’t directed at her but it showed her opinion of diabetes. Ryder also didn't want to start another argument with her brother.

“You punched her!”

“I had reason!”

The tram doors opened and they walked out in awkward silence. When they got to her brother’s bed they stopped.

“Are you really leaving like this?”

“Like what?” Anyone could hear how irritated she was.

“You’re mad.”

Asher was right, but at this point, she didn’t know at who or what she was mad at anymore. But was she really mad at him?

“I have to go,” she lied. She needed to do something. Get her mind off things and then she can have a clear head again. Right now her brother wasn’t helping.

“Look, Amber…”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said before her brother could say anything else. She wanted to be alone. Talking about something she didn’t even fully understand wasn’t something she wanted to do.

Asher had nothing else to say so she made her way to leave. “I’ll see you before the Tempest leaves. Enjoy therapy.”

****

Ryder needed to see Lexi later in the day. They needed to be sure that everything was working as it should. She was still sore from the surgery, but the pain meds helped.

They made a couple of changes to the program, and might tweak it further in the future. Ensuring that the implant supplied the correct doses was still hard work. This wasn't the cure Ryder had hoped for.

The implant made just as much insulin as it was programmed to, no more no less. SAM could help make the changes but Lexi needed to approve them. Too much insulin wasn’t good for her. Not for anyone.

The extra insulin injections would go to Erna and her daughter. The Tempest should still have insulin just in case of something happening. But she’d freely give it to someone who need it.

Ryder was still getting used to that. Going from having to stab oneself with a hypodermic needle multiple times a day, to not stabbing tender flesh was amazing. It was like one of her wildest dreams came true.

It gave her motivation. It gave her hope. Maybe things weren’t that bad after all.

****

“Long day?” Jaal asked. They were snuggled up on the couch. They would leave the Nexus the next day. Ryder had some business in the morning but afterwards, they could leave.

“Yeah, it was.” She looked up to him smiling. She wanted to forget the day’s events. Sometimes the first days were rough, and today was no exception.

She had to meet with a couple of people, tie some loose ends and catch up on some paperwork. Then there were the arguments she had.

It took more out of her then she cared to admit.

“Pathfinder,” SAM’s voice rang in her head, “Lieutenant Harper is looking for you.”

“The day isn’t over yet.” She sat straight and Jaal shot her a questioning look. Ryder ignored it and focused on SAM, “Tell her where we are.”

“Yes, Pathfinder.”

This better had to be an emergency. This day was starting to give her a headache.

Cora came rushing in. “Ryder,” she was relieved to found her, “There you are.”

“What’s the emergency?” Ryder looked for any signs of what was going on, but nothing gave her any indication.

“No emergency.”

Ryder cocked her one eyebrow suspiciously. “Did you tell yourself that?”

“I was at a meeting with Tann.”

Oh no.

“He wants to see you,” Cora continued.

Oh crap. This can’t be good. Never before did Tann wanted to see her immediately. That was not a good sign.

“Now?” Ryder kept her face as natural as she could. “Did he say why?” It didn’t necessarily mean it’s bad, right?

“Yeah,” her second looked awkwardly at Jaal. “He said something about you assaulting someone.” Cora’s words were unsure as to if she wasn’t sure she had all the details.

Ryder couldn’t help to wonder how he found out. Did Janette go to Tann? Why the hell would she?

Jaal was the first to speak up, “Did my translator catch that right? Did you assault someone?”

Ryder shrugged as if this happened every day, “It’s no big deal. She had it coming so I punched her.”

Jaal and Cora just blinked and she wondered what they were thinking but went on regardless, “How does Tann know about that?”

“She’s one of Addison’s people,” Cora explained.

“Well, that’s not good,” Jaal took the words right out of her mouth

“She probably made it worse than it was.”

Cora was right, but that wasn’t the problem. She and Tann argued just a day before her surgery. Not to mention she was already on thin ice with him. But this was something she brought on herself. There was no one else to blame.

Ryder pinched the bridge of her nose. This was the last thing she needed right now. “This is the day I’m getting fired.”

When she looked up neither of them had serious expressions.

“He won’t fire you,” Jaal said.

“At least not before we get to Meridian,” Cora added lightly.

“That is not funny.” But there was no seriousness in her voice. They were probably right, but she still felt uneasy. “I should probably go.” Ryder didn’t know if she had the energy to deal with Tann of all people. But she started walking anyway.

“For what it’s worth,” Cora stopped her in her tracks, “I’m sure you had a good reason.”

I hope you’re right.

****

“Tann.”

“Ryder.”

It was a standard, neutral greeting. Neither party gave any indication of how much they didn’t want to have this meeting.

“Do you hate me, Ryder?”

For a second Ryder thought of telling Tann exactly what she thought about him but that would probably count against her. “Uh… why would you ask me that?”

“Why else would you assault people you just meet? It’s your first day back and you’re already giving me trouble. Unless you have a valid excuse for your poor behaviour.”

Ryder felt like she was a kid being scolded by the teacher and she had no good answer. What was she going to say? How is she going to explain to her boss why she punched someone when she didn’t understand it herself?

Ryder had been insulted many times before in her life. She wasn't always calm about it, but she had never outright punched someone in the face for insulting her. Janette didn’t even talk to her, so why did she feel the need to confront her with her fist. And why did she flare?

Flaring was something she did when she was surprised or beyond mad. Why had she gotten so mad?

It was as if she didn’t just defend herself but all diabetics in Andromeda and The Milky Way. She needed to stand up for them. It was the only physical thing she could do. So without giving a thought, that’s exactly what she did.

And if she was honest with herself, she didn’t regret it at all.

“It was just a small disagreement.” That was putting it mildly. And it took her everything to tell this lie. But what else could she say?

His big eyes told her he was sceptical. They studied her, looking for something flaw in her explanation but Ryder straightened and kept her face impassive, refusing to give him anything.

“Very well,” Tann continued. “Then you’ll have no problem apologizing to her.”

“Hell no! I’m not apologizing to her. That’s crap!” With each word her voice rose.

“That’s quite the reaction for a little disagreement.” If Ryder wasn’t here she wouldn't have believed Tann could be sarcastic. And she couldn’t be sure if her ears deceived her. “Unless something else happened.”

Tann was acting far too suspicious. He was many things but stupid wasn’t one of them. He knew there was more going on.

“Yes, Director.”

****

When Ryder arrived at the Tempest the night cycle had already started. She wanted to do nothing more but to climb in her bed and sleep her worries away.

But she was a diabetic. She couldn’t skip her dinner and snack. Besides, she would probably suffer a low in progress and that was the last thing she had the energy for.

After dinner, she could spend some time with her crew and hopefully go to bed early for a change.

When her door opened in front of her Jaal was standing in the middle, waiting for her. “Uh… why are you in my room?”

Jaal immediately changed his demeanour, “You said I’m welcome anytime. I’d thought I would wait until you come back.”

She cupped his face in her hands and pulled him in for a kiss. “I’m just surprised.”

There was a lot of unsaid between them. After agreeing she would tell him everything she couldn’t go against that.

“Did you get fired?”

Ryder laughed. She couldn’t help it. But somehow apologizing to Janette seemed worse than getting fired. “No, but I need to make amends.” Ryder sighed. Tomorrow would be a headache of its own.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

No.

“I need some coffee first.” With Jaal’s hand in hers, they went to the Galley. Hopefully, the coffee would give her the courage she needed.

#Mass Effect Andromeda #My writing #F!Ryder #Jaal Ama Darav #Diabetic Ryder

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sheresh0y · 3 years

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Mar'eyce Introduces:

Ro Donetta-Awaud: He/Him, 30-ish

Along with his family:

Dagon Donetta-Awaud: He/Him, 28-ish

Tann Donetta-Awaud: 11-ish

Kato Donetta-Awaud: 5-ish

Ellis Donetta-Awaud: 5-ish

A/N: I decided to go balls to the wall with the rest of these characters. So much backstory. All of it. I'm dumping it right here. Drabbles will added, moodboards whenever the fancy strikes. The rest of Arumorut has had their stories told at this point in the story so, fuck it, whatever. I love these OCs too much and I'm screaming it from rooftops, baby. I know suck at writing children and these Awaud children are definitely come across as way too old but go with me on this. I also left the children's pronouns empty because I'm not entirely sure what they're all trying to tell me yet. I'll update it when they let me know.

Warnings: This fic and AU is 18+ for a reason. Mentions of parental death, swearing, slavery and unwanted children mentions. Ro's a little sad boy under all that armor.

Read from the beginning: Mar'eyce Masterlist

Ro Doneeta was born to Volya and Rol Doneeta, Twi'lek freedom fighters turned Rebels. When Ro had turned four, his parents went a on a routine trip for supplies and never came home. He was adopted shortly after by Kai and Ilyah, a quickly and quietly whispered pact made by the only two parents in their corner of The Rebellion after one too many close calls.

"Take care of them, for us. Please."

The Awauds openly encouraged Ro to participate in Twi'lek culture. Just because he was a Mandalorian now didn't mean he stopped being a Twi'lek as well. The entire clan learned Ryl and Kai and Ilyah found mentors for him to teach him the things they couldn't. They were never sure if they did right by their son, but they tried their best.

After the Awauds retired from the war and were sent back to Arumorut, when Ro and Kaiyah were sixteen, Ro threw himself into the deep end of medicine. It wasn’t humble in the way that Ba’buir was, he didn’t want to train the clan in first aid or help children with their sniffles. Ro had lost so much to the galaxy and this was his fuck you.

First, his ryma and kora, then his lek, now his buir. Kai’buir was physically there, but mentally, emotionally they were nowhere to be found. It was like he had died without dying. Ro decided he was going to fix it all, no one in his family was dying again. Nobody was getting left behind. For everything the galaxy took from Ro, he was going to drag back to this life with his bare hands.

After a few months of shadowing Ba'buir Nejaa, Ro was decided to pursue medical school on Naboo. It was a relatively peaceful planet, since tourism was most of the economy they were malleable to whoever was in charge. This meant that Ro couldn't just walk around anywhere. The Empire was still standing and he was a Mandalorian who may or may not be wanted.

Ba'buir Nejaa said no immediately. Their reasoning was the armor. Armor was important, every Mandalorian wore it all the time. The only reason Nejaa didn't anymore was because Kaiyah needed a new set and they had gifted their set to her. Ro didn't have this exception so he tried a compromise: he would wear the chest plate under his clothes. The plate was the biggest piece of armor he had and helped the most with regulating his temperature anyway. It wasn't comfortable but it was the best he could come up with.

About four years into his medical education, Ro met Dagon through some mutual friends. It was terror at first sight, the poor Zabrak man was missing nearly all of his right ear and Ro knew it was his fault. His stupid plan to fight an Aryx head-on had consequences he didn't full think of at the time.

Try as he might to avoid Dagon, it didn't matter. It was like the up and coming designer was everywhere, Dagon seemed to have his own gravity and Ro was quickly pulled in.

It didn't take long for them to fall in love, by the third official date Dagon was asking Ro to move in and by the fifth they were married. For his part, Dagon took everything Mandalorian related in stride. He barely blinked when Ro explained soulmates and the reasons they were both all scarred up on the first date. He just asked if 'his Mandalorian' had anyone to take care of him.

When Ro graduated school, not quiet a doctor but close enough, the couple had a long talk about the future. They both knew they wanted kids but The Empire was still looming. It wasn't safe for Mandalorians to be openly walking around and they were both faced with the thought it might never be. Dagon understood that his children would be raised Mandalorian. It was close to the way Zabraki culture was. Clans, fighting, it made sense for the most part. Even though he had parted he had parted ways with his family, Dagon knew Ro couldn't do that.

He had been officially introduced to most of the Awaud clan when Ro had graduated, Dagon threw a little get together in honor of his riduur and the only people on Ro's must invite list was his family. They had a bond that went closer than blood and Dagon knew his clan of two needed to do.

He moved the clan of two back to Arumorut, using the ship that Nejaa and Kaiyah brought to move the stuff that Dagon couldn't or wouldn't sell, Ro never seemed to hold on to much.

Ro was furious, initially. Dagon had plans, big plans, to be a designer and he was right at the cusp of finally getting his own line. Moving back to Arumorut would be a step back for his career or end it entirely. In Ro's mind, he could at least play security while Dagon chased his dreams and then they could settle down wherever. It didn't matter to Ro as long as he got to see his family regularly, somewhere Mid or Outer Rim, he didn't want to be too far in case of an emergency.

The move ended up being the best thing to happen to them, not a month after settling in Kaiyah brought home a little Twi'lek girl. She couldn't have been older than five, but with her malnutrition it was hard to guess and she didn't know. She didn't even have a name and barely spoke Huttese.

They named her Tann, for hope.

A year later, while debating on putting their names with an adoption agency now that The New Republic existed and Ro could get his record expunged since his Rebel activities were no longer deemed as 'treason' or 'terrorism', the twins fell in their laps. A woman had shoved the babies on Jax, who was working on a bounty at the time, she said she couldn't take care of them and knew that the Mandalorians could. Jax didn't have a soulmate at the time and knew that the Donetta-Awauds were thinking about adopting again, so he asked if they would like to add the Zabraki twins to their family. The boys couldn't have been more than a few months old, their skin was more pink than the vibrant red it now was.

Kato, for Dagon's father. Even if they didn't talk he still liked the name.

Ellis, for Ro's buir. It was her clan name before she joined Kai.

Ro knew he made the right choice when Kai-buir cried. It sounded terrible at the time, like he enjoyed making his father cry, but it was such a relief to find out that he could. That Kai wasn't entirely gone, just not always there.

Ro still asks Dagon if he regretted it. Losing his fashion line, being a boring tailor to people who didn't really need a tailor. On those days Dagon holds Ro closer, his chin resting on his Mandalorian's head, "Never. Not once. I've never been happier than when I'm with you. 'Boring tailor' and all. Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyare."

^ Ro in his full armor. Isn't he a handsome boy?

Translations & Other Headcanons:

Ryma: Ryl, mother

Kora: Ryl, father

Buir: Mando'a, parent

Kai-buir: Mando'a, masc parents typically go by the first three letters of their name followed by 'buir'. The Donetta-Awaud children don't really follow this rule since they have one Buir and one Edalinare (Zabraki, family).

Ba'buir: Mando'a, grandparent

I headcannon Ro as a doctor who did all the bookwork, but never the internships which I believe is eight-ish years of school? Correct me if I'm wrong I just wanted to keep the timeline in some kind of order for myself (leaving Arumorut at sixteen + eight years of school leaves Ro somewhere near 24 when they have Tann, 25 for the twins). I also know that half the stuff Ro does in Arumorut a unlicensed doctor could never do in real life, but in his mind it got him close enough to what he wanted to do, hence the joke about 'not a doctor but close enough'. He was pretty over med school, honestly. Besides, he learned the good stuff from Nejaa (who is nowhere near doctor status, think closer to field medic/EMT who has Seen Some Shit).

Riduur: Mando'a, spouse

Tann: Ryl, hope

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyare: Mando'a, I know you forever, beloved.

In my brain, Dagon is like 6'4", 6'5"-ish and Ro is a short king comparatively coming in at a hot 5'8", 5'9" (he swears up and down he's a solid 5'10". He's not.) Ro is almost always little spoon and doesn't mind it one bit.

I feel like I need to add a disclaimer: did I accidentally create Numa and her uncle with Tann and Ro? Yes, yes I did. Do I really care at this point? No, because it makes moodboards easy. Numa and her family belong to Disney and Lucasfilms, I did not create them and I don't want anyone to think I did. That arc plus the fact she shows up in Rebels makes me cry.

#mandalorian oc #star wars oc #ro donetta awaud #dagon donetta awaud #tann donetta awaud #kato donetta awaud #ellis donetta awaud

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