#WerewolfExperience
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theride7d · 1 year ago
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satashiiwrites · 2 years ago
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Messy Draft Monday—Halloween Edition
So yeah.  I have had too many work emergencies the last three days to get this done
 despite goals of yeeting a complete one-shot today. Tagging my RC collective discord peeps: @radio-chatter​ @quietborderline​ @tkwritesdumbassassins​ @missanniewhimsy​ @elisela​ @outtoshatter​ @muffinsandsweets​ @redhoodiskra​. No pressure as always, this is just for fun
*sigh* there’s always tomorrow right?
Title: Bound By Blood
Fandom: Mass Effect Andromeda
Pairing: MReyder
Summary: doesn’t have one.  It’s Vamp!Reyes x Werewolfexperiment!Scott
Other tags/warnings: first draft. Half done one-shot.  Halloween creature fic. 
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The years had made him cautious—but not overly so. He was rather hard to kill after all and great rewards usually awaited those daring enough to take the risk
The last two hundred years (minus a six hundred year cryosleep) had been particularly interesting.  So many new inventions, new places open to exploration as the mass relays connected his home planet to the width and breadth of the Milky Way.  He’d made the jump almost immediately to the colonies exploring the various nebulas and systems, meeting alien races and learning new skills until he’d heard a rumor of an expedition so audacious he hadn’t believed it until he’d obtained his own offer to join.  
Reyes had taken advantage of the one way journey to Andromeda purely because it was such an unusual opportunity and it intrigued him enough to play human again and leave the shadows he tended to favor. 
What wasn’t surprising was the mess that humans (and Asari, Krogan, Salarian and Turians) could make of things.  The Uprising had been disappointing.  New galaxy but old problems and petty grievances had followed them all to precipitate a disaster.  Colonists died., colonies failed and civil war broke the Initiative in half. 
As old as he was, he didn’t need that much to survive. Finding that the Angara were just as good a substitute as a human, krogan or asari had been a pleasant discovery (in a pinch a Turian, Salarian or other Milky Way species would do but it always made him feel a bit off to have dextro blood in his system).  Keema’s adoption of him as her family even more so.
Reyes hadn’t had a true family in a long time.  Now, he would kill any who threatened Keema and his people.  
He’d written off the Initiative for the most part.  They were stuck on the opposite side of the Haranj in a tangle of the Scourge without a viable colony to support themselves so he’d invested his time and efforts in working with the Angara and starting to carve out his own fiefdom like his kind had in the worlds of old. 
That’s when whispers of an ark had reached his ears. 
The Hyperion had been sighted and made it’s way to the Nexus. 
Reyes had consulted with Keema and Evfra about whether this changed anything.  They had all agreed to wait and see—they had enough trouble to deal with in the Kett. 
Now the Kett were truly worthless.  Their blood was rancid—they barely qualified as living to Reyes and were waging a war of extinction against his family by invading their homes. 
No sense of humor either—you could tell a lot about a species based on what they found funny. 
The whispers became rumors and then intelligence reports of a Pathfinder—not Alec but a Scott Ryder. It seemed some misfortune had befallen the father and now the son had inherited his father’s heavy mantel. Reports came in that implied competence and a tendency towards fairness more fitting of an Arthurian knight. 
Reyes had to admit to being intrigued when Evfra admitted to finding this Scott impressive for being so young.  He offered to be the liaison contact on Kadara when it became obvious that the Tempest’s next port of call would be Kadara. 
He needed to meet Scott Ryder personally and judge how best to handle him. Whether this young Pathfinder was going to be ally, asset or foe needed to be determined. 
Photos of Scott Ryder did not adequately prepare him nor were the reports detailed enough. 
As old as Reyes was, he’d honed his skills and enhanced senses over the years.  It had been quite a while since someone had delighted him as much as Scott did. 
Scott had the athletic build of a career special forces operative and the slight swagger to his hips and cocking of the head that spoke to his confidence in his skills. Sapphire blue eyes reflected unnaturally in the neon lights of Kralla’s Song that hid the hazel green and amber flecks of the iris but betrayed the night vision flash of something not quite human more than the slight scent of pine and mountain air that clung to him. 
Reyes had not anticipated this. 
Scott had something of the wolf in him.  Not fully—no.  When tested he did not react to the changes of the moon nor did he do anything other than sneeze when tested with wolfsbane  flowers (and hadn’t those been fun to procure when he’d not thought to ever need them six hundred years away from the politics of the Milky Way). His skin did not burn when exposed to silver and he was confused—not offended—by dog jokes. 
He was a puzzle and Reyes was fascinated. 
Fascination led to investment.  Investment led to banter which led to something else.  Something that Reyes labeled friendship but Keema labeled it something else with a sly grin while he ducked out of the gentle ribbing she gave him whenever Scott was on Kadara.
He was almost a thousand years old.  Love was for shorter lived mortals—not him. 
Then Scott made a declaration—he could have chosen differently but he had not. 
Instead, Scott chose Reyes and Sloane Kelly fell to the ground dead from a sniper’s bullet in Draullier. 
It made an odd sort of sense that Scott should surprise him even further at that moment, standing on the other side of a dead body. “I know.”
“Know what?” Reyes asked. The urge to touch Scott was strong but he denied it.  He was used to denying his wants.
“I know you’re
. You’re
”
“I’m what?” Reyes asked, letting the words slide across his tongue like velvet even as his fangs descended, taking a step to the side so he could fade into the shadows if necessary. Scott smelled wonderful unlike any other wolf he’d ever encountered and it drew him in.  
“You’re a vampire.”
Reyes paused, the label creating a barrier between them. He had not hidden any of his tendencies from Scott—in fact he’d revealed more of them than he had to any human in quite a long time. “A vampire Scott—surely you joke.”
Scott was nervous, a pink tongue swiping across his lips and he shifted his weight.  “You smell
. Different.”
“Like what?” Reyes couldn’t help himself. 
“Whiskey. Plums.  Like the night wind
. And death.”
He arched an eyebrow at the description. “So? It sounds like you don’t like my cologne.”
“It’s not cologne,” Scott snapped, frowning before his expression flattened into neutrality but his eyes didn’t leave Reyes’.  “Surely you feel it?”
“Feel what?”  He’d been circling Scott, and he asked the questions right into the shell of an ear that twitched as his words entered, lengthening slightly to a point which Reyes couldn’t help but touch with one finger and trace the delicate ridge. “Ah—keep it in.  Wouldn’t want to slip and let just anyone see this.”
“Reyes,” Scott breathed his name out in a sigh, head falling back as he shivered.  Reyes took advantage to wrap one arm around Scott’s trim waistline. 
“Yes Scott?”  This close you could see all the different fleck of color in Scott’s eyes and they practically glowed gold in the faint moonlight. The wolf was close to the surface—closer than Reyes had witnessed it before. It felt like a rubber band stretched too thin between them when they were apart and the recoil as they neared urged him closer and closer, faster and faster until he actively wanted to snarl when Scott was called away by his masters. 
He was beginning to suspect he would give just about anything to be Scott’s master. To be able to claim Scott as his.
“Are you mine?”
Possession flared in his chest and the heart that had not beat in almost a millennia gave a lurch. 
Nuzzling his nose into the side of Scott’s neck where jaw and ear met, he purposefully inhaled deeply.  Breathing was not necessary for his kind but it was necessary to use his enhanced senses. He could hear the slightly quick beat of Scott’s heart, feel the thrums of nerves transmitted through layers of armor. 
Scott’s blood would be thick and rich on his tongue, taste better than ambrosia.  It would be instantly addicting and Reyes knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the siren call for long. 
A gauntleted hand held him in place, pressing his nose into Scott’s neck and he couldn’t help the satisfied purr that escaped. The gasp and aborted roll of the hips that Scott gave when licked over the jugular was both interesting as well as intoxicating. “Reyes
.”
“What do you want Scott?”  He needed an answer.  Reyes barely had a leash on his instincts but he needed to know what it was that Scott wanted. 
“You.  I want you,” Scott growled, turning in his grip until they were pressed together from knee to chest. The hand that cradled Reyes’ face remained where it was but the other arm snaked around his waist to pull them together tight.  The rumbling grew in pitch to a snarl and then they were kissing. 
They’d kissed before in the storeroom as a smokescreen and Reyes had gotten the tiniest taste of Scott then.  Now, however, it became quite apparent that Scott had been holding out on him. Open mouthed, their tongues dueled as Scott submitted to Reyes’ who nipped at the tongue that tangoed with his to add a few drops of blood to the mix like the finest wine.  The crisp north wind as it howled across the mountains gathering the first hint of a spring thunderstorm. The crackle of lightning as it struck. 
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