An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary: Luo Binghe makes her plans to seduce her new girlfriend into falling in love with her forever with dinner. She gets a little bit carried away in the meantime.
So I never post about my fics on ao3 because I am frankly bad at it, but I had initially written the couch scene on the attached fic from Shen Yuan's pov and it was one of the best bits I wrote for the fic and I was devastated to cut it. One of my readers suggested posting it on tumblr, so I am now doing so! Whole snippet will be below the cut:
Shen Yuan doesn’t know exactly how she got here.
Well she does—she’s the one that invited Luo Binghe here, after all, having sent the text message that sealed her own fate, confirmed how much she enjoyed Luo Binghe’s touches and kisses. It was practically a screaming admission that she’d wanted more, inviting Luo Binghe over for a follow-up date. Not that the first one was a date, of course; it had been a totally proper conversation between an employee and a customer before things had gotten out of hand. Shen Yuan still barely knows how it happened!
But this was entirely her own doing. Shen Yuan had known what she was asking for when she had invited Luo Binghe over again. It had felt almost presumptuous, reaching out to a woman so utterly beautiful and so incomprehensibly willing to see Shen Yuan again, despite the pathetic and nervous picture that she had presented during their first time.
Shen Yuan was an utter noob to all of this girl stuff! She’d never kissed a girl before, let alone one as effortlessly gorgeous as Luo Binghe! What is she supposed to do, when she shows up on Shen Yuan’s doorstep with a pink oversized sweater and a little pleated skirt, socks hugging her thighs and a pretty cherry smile, food in hand as if ready to become Shen Yuan’s personal chef? Shen Yuan had almost expired on the spot! Leave some charm to the rest of the mortals please, Binghe!
Shen Yuan is thankful that the date is in her own apartment; it prevents her from making a fool of herself in public every time Luo Binghe says something even a little bit flirtatious.
And—as much as she can barely even admit it in her own head—maybe she had been hoping for something like what had happened that first meeting. She had been flustered and tense the whole afternoon, flushing each time Luo Binghe had walked over to flirt with her or let her taste the sauces as she cooked, each time thinking—would this be when Luo Binghe kissed her?
In the end, the kiss had come entirely out of the blue, taking her off guard and flustering her beyond her capacity to take it. How could Luo Binghe be so pretty and sweet and utterly brazen, to lean in and kiss her like that? It was unfair! No one should be able to take her off guard so utterly!
But Luo Binghe doesn’t seem to care about what is fair, because she kisses Shen Yuan slow and deep and leaves her breathless, and when Shen Yuan throws away what’s left of her dignity and suggests that they move somewhere more comfortable—she’s ready plenty of erotica, she knows that much—Luo Binghe leaps at the occasion.
Which leads her to where Shen Yuan is now, pressed down into the couch cushions by Luo Binghe straddling her waist, stretched out so her ample chest squeezes against Shen Yuan’s much more modest one, warm pillows that Shen Yuan’s brain snags on like velcro, unable to stop thinking about them. She still remembers the feel of them in her hands, what it had been like to cradle and press her fingers into the plush softness, and her fingers are landing on Luo Binghe’s thighs and squeezing over the elastic of her socks before she can catch herself.
Luo Binghe kisses her again and again, making a noise of delight and pleasure when Shen Yuan squeezes her thighs, making her jolt—and then do it again, just to make Luo Binghe make that sound once more.
How can one woman be so captivating? Shen Yuan doesn’t know.
She tastes like strawberry chapstick and kisses like she’s ready to devour Shen Yuan whole.
It’s all Shen Yuan can do to kiss back; she barely notices when Luo Binghe’s fingers inch under the hem of her shirt. They play across the waistband of her pants before pushing up further, caressing her sides and belly, and her head goes fuzzy at the warm trails that Luo Binghe’s fingertips leave. It isn’t until her hands drift up even further, starting to push her blouse up a telling amount, that Shen Yuan realizes what is happening, and she immediately tenses.
Luo Binghe pauses, lifting her head to look Shen Yuan in the eyes, hands curling around her ribcage. Her fingers are so long.
“Yuan-jie?” she asks.
Shen Yuan wonders how humiliating this will be when Luo Binghe realizes her presumptuousness.
Unwilling to look her in the face, Shen Yuan tilts her head back. “You’ve done it before,” she says, voice affecting casualness as if there’s any way to be casual about a beautiful woman straddling her lap and trying to take off her shirt. “What are you waiting for?”
Luo Binghe’s face fills with excitement as she leans in—instead of kissing her on the lips, she ducks her head down to mouth around Shen Yuan’s collarbone, then ducks her head even further down to stretch the fabric of her top, mouthing against the top of one of her breasts. She’s much less filled-out than Luo Binghe is, to the point that she wants to push Luo Binghe’s head away and grouse at her to get on with it already!
She tenses as hands push her blouse up even further and Luo Binghe’s fingertips brush against her bra; Luo Binghe exhales against her skin, moving back to look as she rucks the fabric up the rest of the way, pushing it up far enough to bunch under her arms.
Luo Binghe’s eyes go wide, and Shen Yuan feels a little bit like she might die.
“Yuan-jie…” Luo Binghe trails off breathlessly, and Shen Yuan jolts when Luo Binghe runs her thumb over the curve of her breast, right over the lacy fabric of the lingerie that she’d purchased in that Victoria’s Secret, the same set that Luo Binghe had first ravished her in.
It was just—when she’d been getting ready, the words that Luo Binghe had said back then kept echoing in her mind! She’d wanted to see Shen Yuan in them again—and when Shen Yuan had been getting ready earlier, her mind overthinking everything, she’d caught on the set bunched in the back of her closet and been unable not to think about it.
She didn’t have any other cute underwear; that was her first time in a store like that! And if nothing happened between them and it was just an innocent first date, Luo Binghe would never know!
She didn’t properly consider the reverse; the situation where Luo Binghe realized that Shen Yuan had put on pretty lingerie just in anticipation of this very thing, like she’d planned on it, utterly shamelessly. Her face burns with embarrassment as she squirms under Luo Binghe’s touch, realizing just how presumptuous she’d been.
Luo Binghe stares at her for a long moment, just touching, sending little shocks of pleasure through her through the fabric. Shen Yuan can’t stand it. “Say something!” she snaps.
This was a little extra I wrote way back when I wrote the first version of Lavender Beneath The Ruins. I couldn't quite find a way to slot it into the revised version, so I decided to share it here!
Extra: The Shape of Memory
Joonghyuk had always been cold.
Before the Facility, he would have days when the cold would seep up his spine and crawl through his limbs, numbing his face and cheeks. On those days, he bundled himself sky-high in thick blankets, his baby sister cuddling close to him to warm him up, giggling under her breath.
This was one of those days.
He didn't know what caused it, whether it was the merciless draft or the light snowfall outside, but Joonghyuk sat shivering on his bed, one of the Facility's paper-thin blankets wrapped tightly around his thin body.
Joonghyuk would have loved to wait it out, bear the agonizing and minute trembles that shot through his body. He would have been content with it, if not for Dokja's annoyed glare aimed at him from across their room.
"W-what?" Joonghyuk asked, annoyed, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.
"You're loud. And it's literally midnight." He replied with a roll of his eyes.
"N-ot my f-fault."
Dokja just sighed, almost dramatically, before shoving over his own blankets and moving towards Joonghyuk.
Joonghyuk barely suppressed an indignant sound when Dokja yanked his hands out from the safe warmth between his knees and stared at them dryly. Then, he cupped his hands in his warmer ones.
"Sitting like that isn't helping you."
"It i-is."
"You're fingernails are blue, Joonghyuk."
Joonghyuk was going to punch him. But the undeniable comfort from Dokja's heated palms, soothing over his icy fingers and sending a slow warmth down his arms, kept his mouth shut.
He didn’t stop Dokja from sitting beside him, from pressing their bodies subtly together, letting Dokja's warmth bleed into Joonghyuk's frozen frame.
The warmth was nice.
It felt like home.
Full fic:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Literally all I listen to while driving (still) is TSWGUIW delover (that was a deluxe typo but I'm right anyway) edition, and so I think about Unhinged Instagram Lives Era every time, so I've gotta finally SAY the shit's that in my head:
Catra writes crying after sex (cw: blood on the album cover art) after chapter 8, when she tries having sex with someone else and it's a disaster because they can't give her what she needs but she doesn't know how to change
Adora writes Confidential (mostly, there are some changes, "It felt like you knew me, in a past life or a movie" becomes "We both know you knew me, in a past life like a movie") in between practices for the Mirrors tour, like literally running between a take in the middle of the room to her phone to write something down as they reset
Shortly before the tour starts, Catra does her first live performance since writing crying after sex and she performs it stream of consciousness style, like it's a possession she just has to get it out (i mean, that's what the song is). When it ended up on the deluxe of the next album there were very few changes from that first performance where it was fresh and raw, because fresh and raw were all that song was meant to be
Adora hears crying after sex and immediately goes. Right okay I need to get in the studio. So she works with her collaborators however she can around the tour prep that just got a wrench thrown in its final act, and they get the fully produced version of Confidential made, alongside working on the tracks for the deluxe version of the Mirrors album ("Mirrors [Polished]") that was already in progress
First night of the world tour, she has a way more involved outfit for her final outfit change, so she walks up to the mic and asks "Are you ready to get deluxe?" as a dancer runs over her for her guitar. Deluxe album hasn't been announced yet but everybody who hears her understands and starts screaming. She puts on the guitar strap and tells the crowd "Don't tell North America about this. Let's keep it... Confidential" and then runs into the song (because the entire North American tour missed out on the deluxe's performance). At the sax solo, she gives up the stage to the saxophonist and goes backstage to scramble for her last outfit change. The long solo and reverting to just the backing track during it ends up being perfect for the outfit change, which lets them finish off with something a little flashier.
That first performance she knows Catra is going to see, even if it's just via TikTok, so she is possessed for it and to this day some people prefer that phone fancam over the official music video because of how much she is putting into it.
Throughout the course of the tour the other deluxe songs get released and then the album, yada yada, Catra is fucking dying that Adora just did that when she wasn't even on the same continent as her. She barely manages to last two weeks past when she knows Adora is back in town - and she actively has a girlfriend at the time, too, they kind of break up on day 15 because. Duh. Catra is not putting anything into the relationship. On day 16 she texts Adora and neither of them mentions at all how they terrorized each other via live performance but Catra does not, in fact, cry after sex
this got so long I should have just made it a chapter. whatever
ANYWAY
Save The Bullets, Baby! is Catra's first song after their relationship goes public, and it's ft. Adora Grayskull (backing & playing). The promo leading up to it is her spraypainting the song's name on the side of a building overlooking a really busy major road in the city (sanctioned promo but with a rebel vibe), and then her posting a lot of imagery of being shot with pink "blood" (aka paintball. like the cover of the single is a real gun held to the side of her head and pink bleeding out from her hair like she's already been shot. The promo image she posts to announce the song is her lying "dead" on the floor with a puddle of pink paint pouring out from her head and the song's name written on the floor in the 'blood' using her finger). Day of the song's premier the final promo is her posting a TikTok of her "vandalizing" her own mural by shooting it up with an automatic paintball rifle with all pink paint.
With the name and all the promo, people are expecting a pretty aggressive song and she knows that. Her pinned comment locked in the second it posts is "ive always crossed genre & this is just one song on the album chill. take it from me, a little pop on your tongue hits sometimes 👅". People of course still complain about her selling out/going pop but it is honestly just that one song, which is the final song on the album, but it's one she wrote for Adora, so she wrote it in Adora's preferred style, and they also wrote the music together quite a bit.
All the pink was a real commentary no one realized until afterwards, about "bubblegum" pop, about how watering herself down like that would feel like dying but sometimes it's what feels right, about how her music is intense and things "light" like pop feel like being killed for how they cage her, about how things associated with femininity (pink, love, nurturing, care) felt like they were killing her while the song is about realizing they weren't.
The deluxe of the album has Crying After Sex (Reprise) on the same track number that it was before and this time it's about crying positively, tears slipping out and being noticed, being held and nurtured, worshiped and loved. It's still in the same style of the original, but instead of raw and jagged, there's a breathiness to it like it's being recorded in the middle of being fucked I mean what,
One day I'll tell y'all about THOSE GIRLS. One day. As if I haven't come back to this fic enough LOL
This extra/alternative universe scene was inspired by a comment on Chapter 35 by halbrander emarasmoak, talking about how Halbron would have drawn “little hearts and a doodle of them as King and Queen” on the parchment next to their names!
The scene would be set somewhere between chapter 36 (where they create the list of people for the expedition) and chapter 47 (before they go public).
Galadriel made her way to the town hall with swift steps, passing by the bulletin board next to the door without so much as a second glance. But when she grasped at the door knob, she did a double take. Slowly, she stepped backwards, towards the board, where they had hung up the list of expedition groups the evening prior.
She couldn't believe her eyes. Someone had drawn hearts next to her and Halbrand's name in black ink, along with two stick figures, holding hands. One of them had long wavy hair, the other shorter hair, and both were wearing crowns.
“What, in the actual f-”
“Galadriel!” he voice boomed across the town square as he strode energetically towards her.
“What is this?” she asked, turning from him and pointing to the paper.
“What is what?” He glanced at the parchment, taking a closer look at it. “Wow. Beautiful artistry Galadriel! Where did you acquire such stunning drawing skills?”
“Do not play games with me. Who did this? Did you do this?”
“Me? Do you think I could ever draw so majestically?”
“These are stick figures,” she hissed. “This is the drawing of a child.”
“What are you implying?”
“I am implying that you have been talking about us to your trainees and that they have taken it into their own hands to express their support, and show that they ship us.”
“Ship us?” He gave a chuckle. “Whatever does that mean?”
“Forget it. It is an elven saying you would not understand,” she huffed as she turned back to it. There was no way she could get it off the paper. And it wasn’t like she could take it down and rewrite it. Only this parchment had been stamped by the council. And she could not bring herself to return it to them and explain the situation to have them stamp another one.
“So what you are saying is that I have been telling my students that we are in love, and that one of them ran off and decided to graffiti the list?”
She glared at him. “Yes. That is exactly what I am implying. I'd even wager that you directly asked one of them to do this.”
"Galadriel,” he scolded as he tilted his head.
“Halbrand,” she mocked, copying his pose.
A little smile formed on his lips. “Let me tell you the truth of it.”
“The truth of it? So you do know who did this.”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Then tell me who it is!” That only made him smile. “Don't you even think about blackmailing me. I need to know who did it.”
“Why? So that you can kill them?”
“What? No. So I can let them know that our relationship is none of their business!”
“Why then has your hand gone to your dagger again?”
She looked down to her hand, indeed grasping at the hilt of her dagger. She slowly let it go, trying not to blush.
“A force of habit,” she snarled.
“Fine,” he said. She snapped to attention. “I'll tell you… Under one condition.”
She glared at him, but his expression was unyielding. “Fine! What is it?”
“That you promise to forgive whoever did this. That you will not be mad at them.”
“Fine!”
“I did it.”
She laughed into the cold air before her expression became grave once more. “Enough with the games. Tell me who truly did it!”
“I did,” he repeated.
“You are making fun of me.”
“I am not I assure you.” He leaned forwards, closer until his head was next to hers, before whispering in her ear. “I drew it.”
She stepped back, holding at bay the way his soft voice had made her feel, focusing instead on the anger pulsing through her veins. “You are only protecting your students you-”
He lifted his hand, spots of black ink on his palm. Her eyes widened. “You did this?”
She wasn’t sure if she was to be mad, amused, or confused.
“I did.”
“You drew hearts. Next to our names. And those... stick figures.”
He smiled at her childishly. Fitting. “The stick figures,” he explained, “Represent us, by the way, in case it was not clear enough. See,” he pointed. “That’s you, with the long wavy, beautiful hair, and that, next to you, holding your hand, is me!” He sounded so self-satisfied. Way too self-satisfied.
She stood, frozen in place, as half of her wanted to slap him and the other half wanted to make out with him right then and there.
In the end, all she could do was glare at him with all the hatred in the world.
He looked back at her. “What is it? Do you not like it? I mean, I must admit, I feel like my drawing of you in particular does not do your beauty justice.”
“You... you…”
That made him smile. “I, I what?” he mocked her, stepping towards her.
Gosh she hated him for doing this, but she loved him for it even more.
“Come,” she said as she grabbed his wrist violently and marched into the town hall.
“I believe you promised not to be mad at the culprit, so if you are planning to kill me… in the closet…?”
She pulled him into the closet, bringing one hand into his hair, pushing his head down to kiss him while her other hand shut the door behind her.
She sighed into his lips as he kissed her back, holding her close.
“So... you... like my drawing then?” he panted between their kisses.
She smiled as she kissed him again. “Your drawing was atrocious.”
“Was it?”
He kissed her back before she could answer, covering her in his touch as he hands ran up and down her back. She lost herself in his touch.
“I-” she uttered as he moved his face downwards, kissing her neck as she tilted her head to the side. She lost her way to words.
“You what?” he asked, surely knowing that she was lost in bliss as his hand traced along her nape and the other side of her neck as he brushed his lips over her skin.
“I… I loved it,” she finally managed to croak.
“You did?” he asked between kisses.
“I did,” she sighed.
“Oh Galadriel...”
---
Hope you enjoyed that extra! ^^ And again thanks for the idea, it was so much fun to write!
i wrote this short scene and it was originally gonna be the ending of wake up and smell the roses, but it just didn’t feel like it fit right so i decided to take it out. i still think it’s funny though so i’m posting it here so you can read it.
rose
The weather finally starts getting warm enough for Nursey to move some of his plants back outside.
He stands on the porch, mentally mapping where he wants to put them, when Dex comes sprinting around the corner like his ass is on fire.
“What the—”
Dex grabs Nursey’s wrist as he’s running by and tugs him inside, up the stairs, and into his room. He bends down, hands on his knees as he catches his breath.
“What the fuck was that about?” Nursey says.
“These…” Dex huffs between breaths. “These are… for you.” He holds up a bundle of roses. Nursey can see where the thorns have been carefully removed.
“Where did you get these? I thought you said you weren’t picking flowers anymore.”
Dex straightens up. “Would you believe me if I told you I bought them?”
“Absolutely not.”
Dex’s face takes on a mischievous smirk. “Well, on a completely unrelated note, I would advise you and the rest of the team to not go by the LAX house. They probably wouldn’t be too happy to see any of us at the moment.”
So I wrote The Definition of Nice (Jaskier ranks the sex they’ve had) and a couple people asked me about what happened in Novigrad (the a+ sex destination). And because I can’t write anything straight this is what came out.
Jaskier gasped and Geralt grinned around where he was worrying Jaskier’s nipple with his teeth.
“What if--” Jaskier gulped for a breath. “What if I juxtaposed the blackness of the Kikimora with the brightness of your hair?”
Geralt pulled back, frowning at Jaskier. “What the--”
“In the new song cycle I’m writing. What do you think?” Jaskier had his hands braced on the mattress and was looking down at Geralt, positioned between his legs.
Geralt tilted his head to the side. “Kikimora have beady little eyes. They’re very shiny.”
“Hmm,” Jaskier said and Geralt could feel the vibration of it. “So would you say they captured the light of the moon?”
Geralt groaned.
***
“Yes, yes, YES,” Jaskier cried and Geralt didn’t even look up from where he was oiling his sword. Literally. He had both the steel and silver blades out and was checking them for damage.
“Don’t you want to hear it?” Jaskier asked, a high, whining note in the back of his voice.
“Hear what?” Geralt asked, looking down the edge of his blade and deeming it sharp enough.
“My climax.” Jaskier sounded very pleased with himself. “It’s tasteful, yet graphic."
I bet, Geralt thought, trying to imagine anything Jaskier did as tasteful. “Fine,” Geralt said. He didn’t have anything better to do.
“...and so passed the scourge of the land, driven out by fair Geralt’s hand.”
The strings of Jaskier’s lute rang out before fading into silence.
“Not bad,” Geralt admitted.
Jaskier was incensed, glaring at Geralt. “Not bad? This is my magnum opus! This song will outlast our children, and our children’s children. ‘Sing us Jaskier’s song!’ will be the cry heard around the land.”
Geralt threw his hands in the air. “It was very good, all right?”
“Well, why didn’t you just say that?” Jaskier was panting, tongue darting out to moisten the corners of his lips and he was still shirtless, and it occurred to Geralt that this evening might still go according to plan.
“I was...overcome,” Geralt said, and edged closer to Jaskier. His sounded unconvincing, but Jaskier seemed to eat it up, his eyes going hooded and dark.
“By which part?” Jaskier was swaying towards Geralt.
“The way you rhymed ‘lord’ with ‘fjord’ was really special.”
Jaskier purred, reaching for the laces on Geralt’s shirt. “That was clever of me.”
“So clever,” Geralt agreed, helping Jaskier by shrugging himself out of his clothing.
“Tell me again.”
“I liked it.”
Jaskier swooned and Geralt slid his hand between Jaskier’s shoulder blades to steady him, bringing their bodies closer together. Geralt could feel the heat radiating off of Jaskier and his own skin was cold everywhere they weren’t touching.
“Again.”
“It was good.”
Jaskier moaned, a long drawn out noise that Geralt wanted to last forever. Geralt bit Jaskier’s jaw, sucking on the skin, driving Jaskier wild as he pulled out a pleasing melody from Jaskier.
“This is wonderful,” Jaskier said, and then threw cold water all over Geralt by climbing off of him. “I must perform this immediately.” Jaskier took two steps away from the bed and Geralt bit back a scream.
The first part of this fic extra for the N7 Adora AU is meant for both Mass Effect fans and people who have never heard of it, providing background information for those unfamiliar and differences from canon for those who are — the second part will be incomprehensible to non-players.
Races:
Humans: United military & political force known as the Alliance. (Adora, Bow, etc)
Humans originate on Earth, which still has a number of countries sprawling its surface, but they have united under the banner of the Alliance in an international — now intergalactic — political/military organization and have begun to found some colony planets to spread into greater space. They only joined the intergalactic scene this century after the discovery of a Mass Relay in the Milky Way galaxy let them jump into galactic civilization, but many have been eager to make their home in space, either on the Citadel, ships, colonies, or planets controlled by other races.
Because much of the “safe” galaxy is already claimed, most human colonies are out in what is considered Frontier Space, where there is less protection from the Council/intergalactic law, and thus human colonies must deal with raider attacks from criminals. As such, they have political tension with the other races over both the inferior resources the other races don’t feel they’re owed as newcomers, and lingering tensions from the First Contact War and racism on all sides.
Magicats: Turian-equivalent in Mass Effect canon, run by the Hierarchy. (Catra)
Magicats originate on Palaven, a jungle planet with extended twilight hours due to its unique relationship with its moon, which is of cultural significance to them. Magicats are a rank-based meritocracy where discipline is deemed of the utmost importance, though those born to privileged lines typically advance rank more quickly due to resources if nothing else. Magicats are led by a Primarch (rank) for each branch of the government, united under their Primavera queen (highest rank individual within the royal family).
Magicats were the first species to encounter humanity when their Mass Effect relay lead them straight to a magicat-controlled galaxy. This led to the First Contact War before peace could be negotiated between both sides and humans could enter intergalactic politics. Magicats are considered the most effective military organization in the galaxy due to their sheer organization, competence, training regiment, and high standards. They are the largest military force in the galaxy and considered the most “reliable”.
Biologically, magicats appear as they do in the show and live similar lifespans to humans, though like every species except the seraphi, they are incapable of having children with other races. Magicat biotics are some of the rarest of the species capable of it, because eezo contamination tends to grow at such a rapid rate within their bodies that it kills them before they can stabilize. Magicat biotic implants, thusly, also act as suppressors. This leads to a double-edged sword: they have the highest biotic potential, but usually must suppress it to a point where their powers manifest the weakest — if they survive.
Seraphi: Asari-equivalent in Mass Effect canon, run by the Matriarchs. (Glimmer, Angella, etc)
Seraphi originate on Thessia, and appear similar to human females, though their height range is greater, their eye color range is nearly the full spectrum of colors, their skin and hair is pink, purple, or blue in hue, and once they truly master their biotics — usually around 350 years of age — they can manifest them into wings they can use to fly indefinite distances as long as their minds remain focused (in practice, usually very short distances). Seraphi with the mental discipline to actually keep their wings formed indefinitely assume Matriarch status immediately.
Seraphi were the first extant species to achieve intergalactic flight and discovered the empty Citadel, “founding” it as the heart of intergalactic civilization. They easily live to be 1000 years naturally, though their extended lifespans have also granted them extended youth and irrationality, with many going through a “mercenary phase” in their early hundreds, and as a result it isn’t a guarantee a seraphi will actually reach Matriarch age (700+ years).
Biologically, seraphi are the only naturally-born biotic species and are capable of mind-melding with someone who consents to a “joining” with them. This can be for exploration, bonding, sex, or procreation, and cannot be done undetected. The seraphi are mono-gendered and are capable of altering the genes they pass down to their children so one copy is their own and one matches aspects of their partner discovered through the joining. Seraphi need a joining to reproduce and usually prefer to join with other species to diversify their genetics.
Repton: Salarian-equivalent in Mass Effect canon, run by the Dalatrasses. (Entrapta)
Repton originate on Sur'Kesh. Their entire species runs fast and have had to learn with time how to talk at a rate understandable to other species. They have shorter lifespans than magicats and humans but are known to be incredibly intelligent. Repton worlds are stewing with political intrigue and their role in intergalactic politics is usually one of science or espionage. They, along with the seraphi and magicats, make up the intergalactic Council that controls and mediates much of intergalactic politics.
(Repton are a human-ish lizardfolk in the OG He-Man, but I’m mostly just taking the name. I didn’t want to just make almost everyone human, and I need a salarian-like, so we’re gonna have some more humanlike aliens than usual lol).
In appearance, Repton are very humanlike, but instead of hair they usually have 2-4 prehensile tentacles on their head (think Splatoon hair styles) and their skin texture is frog-like in texture with a tint to it that matches the more vibrant shade of their tentacles.
(Repton do normally sleep in fairly regular hammocks, Entrapta is just a special case due to her genetic disease)
Twiggets: Quarian-equivalent in Mass Effect canon, run by the Migrant Fleet Admiralty Board. (Perfuma)
Twiggets originate on Rannoch, a planet with such a high oxygen content in the atmosphere as to be lethal to every other sentient species after only a few minutes. As a result, Twiggets must wear environmental suits when off of Migrant Fleet vessels that provide the high-oxygen environment they need since they oxygenate through their skin as well as their lungs.
Rannoch’s atmosphere was fragile and as Twiggets developed galactic travel, they caused environmental damage that was starting to affect these oxygen levels. They built the geth to help them as 24/7 workers in large-scale environmental improvements. The geth developed intellectually until they reached sentience and the twiggets, upon discovering this, panicked and tried to bring the geth offline, effectively killing droves of them and launching a war between the twiggets and the geth that the twiggets lost before they even started — without the geth working to maintain their planet, it would quickly become unliveable from the accelerated decline brought by an ongoing war. Unable to find another planet able to sustain them, the twiggets became nomads based out of their Migrant Fleet. While they have the largest fleet in the galaxy and the sheer strength of numbers keeps them safe, they are not a military power due to their position being too precarious — most of their ships don’t even have weapons. Currently the geth seem happy to call Rannoch their home, but the Mass Relay out of Rannoch’s star system is watched with great nerves.
Biologically, twiggets are largely humanoid in shape, though their biology is plant-based and as such they do not really share food sources with any other race in the galaxy, though they can convert biomass to energy. They can subsist without any food for long periods of time as long as they have enough oxygen and UV, though they can enter hibernation after long periods. Their biology is more malleable than other races and thus they have the widest variety of appearances, though most have cultivated a seraphi-like appearance and keeping their bodies within a standard blueprint eases things when it comes to obtaining oxygen suits. Twiggets live longer than humans and magicats by a few decades but their population is small by necessity given the limitations of their fleet. To prove their usefulness to the fleet and earn their rank, twiggets of age must venture out into the galaxy and bring back something of value to the fleet. This can fit any category: technology, art, intelligence, etc. Different ships will have different standards and if a twigget’s home ship doesn’t accept their offering — or just doesn’t have room anymore — they can try a different ship, but life in the fleet is highly cooperative and those who don’t wish to have their life defined by a vote down often depart from the fleet, even with the biological challenges faced outside of twigget vessels.
Being plant-based, twiggets are the only sentient organic species that seraphi cannot join or have children with.
Scorpioni: Krogan-equivalent in Mass Effect canon. (Scorpia).
Scorpioni are a clan-based species originating on Tuchanka that became the victims of warring global superpowers mid-digital revolution that devastated their atmosphere with nuclear fallout and nearly ended their species, setting them back and ending any chance of them progressing to galactic flight when they were fighting so much for survival. These harsh conditions greatly reduced their numbers until the reptons found them and lifted them to intergalactic civilization for help with the Rachni War. They were invaluable in ending the centuries-long conflict, but their own population began growing at an unsustainable rate without Tuchanka’s devastated ecosystem to keep them in check, as well as from the benefits of modern medicine. They were “forced” to expand to empty colony planets, and eventually to take over existing ones. The magicats fought them off, and the reptons neutered them through genophage. The scorpioni don’t know how the repton did it, but the genophage caused widespread infertility and a large amount of stillborns to keep their numbers in check.
Scorpioni are considered remarkably resilient and hard to kill, able to survive the widest range of conditions (temperature, pressure, chemical, radiation, injury, etc) of any sentient species, with a remarkable healing factor that can even partially regrow limbs, though they will never have the size, strength, or mobility of before. As such, they were considered a “super soldier” species. No one knows how the reptons created the genophage’s genetic alteration in scorpioni and many clans have come up with their own processes to handle offspring and provide for successful mothers. All children are considered incredibly precious, and as a result the scorpioni have become both more nurturing internally and more distrusting and hateful of outsiders.
Biologically, scorpioni appear much as they do in the show, and are taller and bulkier than the average human, though they don’t often reach the heights of a seraphi Matriarch. They are incapable of being biotic and their bodies are actually able to clean low levels of eezo contamination.
Lizardfolk: Drell-equivalent in Mass Effect canon. (Rogelio)
Lizardfolk senses rival those of magicats and as such they’re highly-sought assassins, hunters, and trackers. Once a lizardfolk catches a scent, it is said they never forget it. Their species has never had the numbers or interest to be major players on the intergalactic scene, largely uninterested in politics, and instead they often end up serving the interests of others for good pay. Far from greedy, they practice a meditative lifestyle where the struggle for survival is just an accepted fact that is never worth becoming the focus. They eat, they live, they die, and they are uninterested in the struggle other species dedicate themselves to mentally.
Biologically, they appear as they do in the show, and universal translators often struggle to translate their growls and sometimes inaudible vibrations correctly, so their tone and exact meaning is often lost on others — think Google translate level. As such, many lizardfolk self-alter their speech when speaking to other races to be as simple and direct as possible. When overhearing two lizardfolk converse with each other, they seemingly turn into poets.
First Ones: Prothean-equivalent in Mass Effect 1 canon. Notice I only named 1. I’m using the First Ones name and the aspect of “extinct civilization with advanced tech that has vanished” from their role in the show for protheans, but for the rest that the First Ones (Eternians) actually did… Well, someone has to be Cerberus.
First Ones is the name given to an extinct civilization that is believed to have once conquered the entire galaxy, leaving the Citadel and Mass Relays behind, before vanishing quickly. Ultimately, it is discovered the Reapers are behind this extinction.
The Reapers: Yeah I didn’t change this, the Reapers are too iconic and I already had uses for the First Ones and the Horde. Sovereign is instead known as Prime. The Reapers have a collective prime directive to wipe out civilization when it reaches a certain technological milestone before entering hiding to return only when their scout has signaled it is time to reset the universe again.
Note: All these names are technically given by humans and are just what these species are called in English. Humans were very uncreative and just named the magicats and seraphi based off of what they saw on first glance. They didn’t know about biotics yet when the First Contact War broke out, so they saw a cat people making shit fly around the room and called them magicats. Seraphi are named based off biblical angels, which is a whole controversial thing amongst humans AND seraphi.
Quick hits:
Squamagica: Volus (as far as having a big role in the corporate, finance, and espionage worlds — Double Trouble is going to have a very different role from the volus in this story. Oh yeah, squamagica is what I’ve named DT’s race since we have multiple shapeshifter’s running around canon)
Silaxians: Batarians
Moth hybrids: Hanar
Lycans: Vorcha
There’s one more that’s a spoiler so I’ll leave them off for now.
I would like to once again shoutout @clarenecessities chart of the different races in SPOP/MOTU, without it I would have no idea what Huntara’s species (silaxians) is called.
Roles:
This is only going to be interesting to Mass Effect players and some things will be vague, sorry. I’m only listing the roles that aren’t 1-to-1 and are necessary story-wise. There are a number of optional squadmates that obviously don’t need an aspect of their role filled to keep the plot moving.
Liara’s role in the story is fulfilled by both Entrapta (First Ones expert, scientist) and Glimmer (seraphi). You’ll also probably notice there was no mention of a Matriarch Benezia equivalent in Chapter 3. There’s honestly no need for Hordak’s agent to be Glimmer’s mom when she dies so quickly, it just provides a bit of angst — trust me I’ll supply it in a different way.
Joker’s role is primarily filled by Entrapta, but in non-combat scenarios Bow can fill in for her, so both are options for squadmates.
Entrapta is also filling in for Mordin in ME2, and you'll see how that works later.
Ashley/Kaidan’s role are roughly filled by Glimmer and Bow, with the notable exception of not. Y’know. Dying. Spoilers but if you thought I was killing one of them I don’t know why lol. I don’t need one of them to die to keep the rest of the plot intact considering either can live and Ashley’s role has basically vanished beneath Liara’s plot-wise after the first few chapters.
Oh yeah Bow is also one other... Notable male squadmate. I’ll just say that you’ll see lol.
Tali’s role is fulfilled by both Perfuma (for the quarian storylines) and Bow (for the tech side). Yes Bow is filling in for four roles. This is because he is the Best.
There both is and is not a Wrex or Grunt equivalent. Scorpia acts as the “krogan” throughout all three stories, but in between ME1 and ME2 she rejoins her clan and endears herself to the larger population, helping the squad when they do need to negotiate with the scorpioni. The scorpioni society just in general is more chill than the krogan. Huntara also steps into bruiser mercenary roles well.
This one I’m just including because I find it funny (the reason I did half the things I did in this fic): DT is Aria except for the sapphic drama and they mostly flirt with Catra rather than Shepard because riling her up is so fun.
