Qwynn Trevelyan had always been a lady, much like her mother. Even after being sent to the circle she maintained an air of nobility.
The Ostwick Circle was a lenient place and Qwynn often got visits from her family; even her older brother who always seemed to have something important to do came by every now and again.
The best part of the Ostwick circle, however, was Tieran. He was a templar, her templar. After the dissolving of the circles they were free to be with each other. It was a dream come true. She took him home to meet her parents and everything.
If you read this fic before 7/18/18, there was an error when publishing chapter 8 which resulted in a repeated paragraph and a missing portion of the story. This has now been corrected. Apologies for any confusion caused and the time it took to realize said error.
Liamâs cleaning his gun when Jaal steps in cautiously, as if heâs concerned Liam might not want him there. âWhat can I do for you, my friend?â Liam asks, setting his gun down and turning his full attention to Jaal.
Jaal looks a little startled, but adjusts quickly. âI have...inquiries about human...anatomy.â
âThat sounds fake, but okay. Continue,â Liam says, crossing his arms and watching his angaran friend carefully. When Jaal struggles to actually continue, Liam tries to help him out. âLook, Jaal, if you have actual questions about the human body you probably wanna talk to Lexi. However, if youâre asking--sorry, inquiring--about what I think you are, close the door.â
It only takes a moment for Jaal to step further inside and hit the button beside the door to close it.
âGreat, now feel completely free to ask the real question,â Liam says, uncrossing his arms but not taking his eyes off Jaal.
Jaal exhales sharply, âI am planning on inviting Rhu to a spot on Aya--it is beautiful. I am hoping she will enjoy it. Should she want to mate, I wish to know about how to best pleasure her.â
Liam snorts, âIâll admit I wasnât expecting that. I mean, I figured you meant something along those lines, sure. I just wasnât expecting explain to me how to sleep with the Pathfinder, which I am happy to explain, truly. I just wasnât expecting it.âÂ
âSo you will teach me?â Jaal asks, looking hopeful.
âOf course!â Liam agrees. He slides around and sits on the couch, patting the seat beside him for Jaal. Once his angaran friend is seated comfortably beside him, Liam turns on his omni-tool.
Itâs a long hour of hand gestures, vids, diagrams, and honest questions that make Liam snort.
âSo like this?â Jaal asks, index finger curled upward and eyes on Liam.
âYeah. Probably best if you leave your other finger out of it. That oneâs big enough as it is,â Liam says. Heâs quiet for a minute before speaking again. âAs youâve learned, human women are complicated. Human men are a lot easier--thereâs one really important part and the rest is just bonus. I remember my first time. It wasnât really a disaster, but it was far from perfect. I was nervous, too rough with my hands, and I couldnât stop apologizing. She was really good about it all and Iâm sure Ryder will be too. Though, Iâm pretty certain youâll have a better first time than I did.â
Jaal laughs, âYes, I have a great teacher. Though, I too had quite a first experience. I was much younger; hadnât quite grown into myself yet. I was also nervous, completely unsure of where to put my hands, and I reached my peak prematurely. She was understanding, but I could not face her after that.â
âSounds like quite the experience,â Liam says.
âOh, it was,â Jaal agrees.
Liam stretches then a thought occurs to him and he canât suppress his laugh.
âWhat is so funny?â
âSo asari have been biotics for centuries. For comparison humans have been at it for a number of decades. So naturally asari have all these things they can do with their biotics--beyond on the battlefield. Never gotten to experience it myself, sadly, but I have heard from other guys itâs a completely different kind of beast if you catch my drift,â Liam says, laughing.
âAngara often use their bioelectricity during sex. It is certainly a different kind of beast,â Jaal says. Heâs quiet for a moment, but suddenly he lights up, âDo you think Rhumehr would enjoy it if I used my bioelectricity?â
Liam snorts a laugh, then realizes itâs a serious question. âYeah! Yeah, of course. Just donât electrocute her.â
âI have no intention of--â
Liam waves him off, âI know you donât intend to electrocute the Pathfinder, but the point was just to be careful.â
âOf course!â
Itâs late and Liamâs about to go to sleep when Jaal bursts in, grinning widely and closing the door behind him quickly. Heâs about to ask what the big deal is when Jaal scurries over to the couch and pats the spot beside him.
Liam cocks a brow, but sits down.
âIt was magnificent, Liam!â Jaal bellows. âI did not expect her to be so soft and oh her breasts!
Liam snorts, âOkay buddy, tone it down. The whole crew doesnât need to know about Ryderâs breasts. I take it it went well?â
âOh more than well! Liam, you did not tell me humans could do things with their biotics during sex,â Jaal says, lowering his voice. âIt is incredible.â
âI honestly didnât expect Ryder to use them on you, but I guess itâs a pleasant surprise, huh?â Liam says with a laugh. He elbows Jaal, âAnd the bioelectricity thing?â
Jaal grins wider, âOh, she really enjoyed that. I did not expect her to be so loud. Our Pathfinder is very expressive.â
Liam snorts again, placing his face in his palm, âJaal, you realize sheâd probably kill you for telling me this, right?â
âShe is aware I got help from you. She was very impressed. You are an amazing teacher. Thank you, my friend,â Jaal says, placing his hand on Liamâs shoulder. He stands, moving off toward the door. âIf you will excuse me, I need to get some rest. Rhu is already in bed. I feel I have exhausted our dear Pathfinder.â
Then Jaalâs gone, leaving Liam with a very confused boner and more information about the Pathfinder than he ever wanted.
Garrus never thought he'd be interested in this kind of stuff. He's a turian sniper turned earth police officer after all. He's probably the least likely candidate for reading smutty fan fiction until the wee hours of the morning. And yet here he is, currently in bed with his visor on as he reads smutty fan fiction for his new favorite video game.
He's not sure how he got to this point, honestly. He was on the extranet, innocently looking at art when someone mentioned fan fiction and he fell down a dark porn filled rabbit hole. Currently, he's devouring a multi chapter work featuring the main character--a turian spectre on a path of revenge--and his beloved human companion. Over the course of the story the pair grow closer as they share intimate moments and well spun backstories.
Garrus has just gotten to the part where Adelaide comes to Markus in the night and asks him to take her as his mate. There's no romance in the game. The whole story is about a human and a turian kicking ass and taking names, but the more Garrus reads the more he wants the two to be together.
The story ends after a very detailed and very steamy sex scene that leaves Garrus shifting uncomfortably in bed as he debates whether or not he should jerk off right now. He's got work in a few hours, but he's suddenly so pent up he can't help himself. He takes care of it quickly, cleaning the mess off his hand and abdomen before starting to set the visor aside.
It occurs to him then that he should probably compliment the author for their work. He leaves a nice comment about how much he enjoyed it--excluding the jerking off bit--and finally lays down to sleep.
Jane wakes to find a lovely comment on her most recent fanfic. She forms her reply--a simple thank you--and somehow it doesn't feel like enough. She posts it anyway and goes about her day.
During her lunch break she finds she's gotten a private message from the same person--again complimenting her work and expressing a desire to read more.
Garrus realizes his mistake a moment too late and he stares blankly at the message on his omni-tool: SENT. He checks the attachment once, twice, three times before he finally accepts the mistake he's made. Panic rises up in his chest and he feels a bit queasy.
He just sent a dick pic to his commanding officer. It's a tasteful dick pic, he might add. He's seated in his bunk, legs spread just slightly with his dick resting against his abdomen and a bead of pre-cum leaking from the tip. That doesn't make it any less embarrassing and he's preparing himself for the upcoming shit storm.
Maybe she'd just joke about it. Maybe she'd just give him a sly, knowing smile every now and again to watch him squirm. It could become an ongoing inside joke between them. Theyâll laugh about it someday. Yeah, yeah. It'll be okay.
She stands by the window. She managed to convince the woman at the front desk sheâs here to surprise her boyfriend on his business trip. She doesn't feel bad about lying. She contemplates the actions that have led her to this place; the drastic measures she took and the people she turned her back on. She's supposed to be Overwatchâs Angel. What is she now?
Her train of thought is interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking and the heavy boot falls as he enters the room. When he sees her she knows heâll be tempted to bolt.
She's younger and brighter like the moon lighting up the night that's become his world. He'd long surrendered to his fate; surrendered to his living hell. Then along came Angela Ziegler and along with her came happiness he'd not felt since his death.
âGabriel, you're staring again,â she says softly with her back turned as she sets the table. âAnd don't say you're not, because I can feel your eyes on me.â
He chuckles and leans further against the back of the sofa. âThere's worse things I could be doing,â he says idly, watching the gentle sway of her hips as she moves around the dining table.
If All Dreams Were Nightmares, Would You Ever Close Your Eyes?
Sheâs been following him. Even though it would only take one shadow step to get her off his tail he finds himself unable to lose her. Or let himself lose her. Theyâre toeing the line of open and dangerous territory. Occasionally he can hear the gentle clack clack of her shoes as she gets just a little too close before backing off.
Does she know who he is? She must. She wouldnât separate from her squad to follow just anyone. Sheâs never been that stupid. Though, she is that naive.
âThey called you Reaper. The Reaper,â says the sweet and thickly accented voice of Angela Ziegler.
Shepard was doing what she always did at this hour: a quick check of the ship before bed. Most everything seemed in order. No one was up who shouldnât be; her crew seemed to have knack for overworking themselves.
Thereâs something different in the cargo bay and at first Shepard canât place it. Then she realizes thereâs a light on by the Mako.
It was late. Garrus wasnât entirely sure how late, but he didnât really care. All he cared about was getting a little relief from the ache between his legs. He had already shed his armor and was currently working on his undersuit.
Some stupid part of him thought it would be a good idea to take care of this in the driver's seat of the Mako. It hadnât yet backfired and he took it as a good sign he could continue.
He hooked a talon into the zipper of his undersuit and leaned back, closing his eyes and imagining a beautiful turian woman on top of him. She was pale with elaborate clan markings and bright green eyes.
What's all this blood? Garrus thought, staring down at the blood soaked sheets balled up by the door. He followed the trail of blood stained clothes to the bathroom, where he could hear the shower running.
Part of him was afraid of what he might find, and the other was already imagining the terrible scene he might encounter.
Commander Rhylee Shepard stretched, throwing her legs over the side of the bed with a yawn. It was early, she could tell. Most of the ship would be dead asleep. She groaned as she rose to her feet. Snatching her robe off the nightstand, she made her way out into the mess hall. Slowly, she pulled her robe on and padded through the mess.
Sure enough, she was the only one up. Even Kaidan, who often spent late nights working on nothing in particular because of his migraines, was nowhere to be found. She made her way to the elevator, and began the slow descent to the lowest deck. Absently, she stared down at her bare feet and toenails painted blue. Wiggling her toes, she giggled. The shipâs floor wasnât as cold as one might expect. Just then, the elevator doors opened to reveal a single light on by the Mako and a turian slumped against its wheel with a bottle in his hand. Rhylee made her way over as quietly as she could, unsure if he was awake or not.
âCommander, what brings you down here at this hour?â Garrus asked, looking up at her from his place on the floor.
Qwynn Trevelyan had always been a lady, much like her mother. Even after being sent to the circle she maintained an air of nobility.
The Ostwick Circle was a lenient place and Qwynn often got visits from her family; even her older brother who always seemed to have something important to do came by every now and again.
The best part of the Ostwick circle, however, was Tieran. He was a templar, her templar. After the dissolving of the circles they were free to be with each other. It was a dream come true. She took him home to meet her parents and everything.
Lady Trevelyan took on the role of Inquisitor with a kind of grace that made it seem as if she were born to it. They had discussed the role before and she said we have Cassandra. Now they had her.
Bull noted a change in the way she carried herself. While she had always walked with grace and beauty before; she now walked with an air of unmistakable importance and grace and beauty.
He could recall their first meeting with perfect clarity. He'd just caved in the skull of some vint mage when he saw her sliding down the ridge through the mud. Her hair was red like blood and soaked from the rain that relentlessly beat the storm coast day and night. Her eyes burned with a green so vibrant it reminded him of Seheronâs forests in the summer. A picture of beauty and elegance even sliding through muck.
She landed with grace and rose with brutal intent blazing in her eyes. Something shimmering gold began in her palm and spread into a greatsword that split a vint from head to groin in a single one-handed swing before fading into nothing.
A goddess of fire and blood and death took control of the battlefield and even the Chargers seemed in perfect sync with her.
Skyhold seemed darker and lonelier when it rained. The Keep emptied out and the yard quickly became deserted, as if everyone suddenly had somewhere far better to be. Inquisitor Trevelyan wished she too had somewhere better to be, something better to do. It had been pouring almost non stop for the past two days. Rain always made her sullen and plunged her into such deep thoughts that she hadn't left her room for the better part of the storm.
Her mind wandered from subject to subject. Ordinary things like why does it rain? Who decided masks were so great that all of Orlais should wear them at all times? and other random things flitted in and out. The Inquisition and Corypheus remained planted in the back of her mind, slowly becoming more and more demanding. The Iron Bull, however, dominated her thoughts more than ever.
She didn't know what she she felt for him. Love? Lust? Infatuation? Desire bred purely from curiosity? In the hours she'd spent going âround and âround on it, she still hadn't decided. She'd thought she had narrowed it down to love or lust, but neither word felt right. All she knew was that she was stuck on him. He was always in her head and she could swear she was in his.
