#dare I say it’s smells of xenophobia damn I hate to be the one to point this out but if u want to consume your American culture then go and

[grabby-smitten]

Please do not normalize bad translations. No matter if it’s books, games or shows.

Someone (prob a group of ppl) worked hard writing this story, trying to convey something and built it. Mistranslation not only sends a wrong message and changes a narrative, but we'll be loosing the original meaning at end. No matter how small the details.

Also, there's cultural sensitivity involved. Why is it so wrong to try and understand a different culture? It should enrich people, not have everyone arguing about pseudo-incest. Adding to the culture thing, as much fiction as LaDS is, it also has so much of the authors' real world and it's a good thing so many people from different parts of the words are able to share and learn.

Let's remember that English is not only a language for one country. For a reason it's called global server.

[forlornmelody]

About That Uniform–Chapter 4

Rating: Explicit (eventually)

Ship: FemShep x Miranda Lawson

AO3 Links: Chapter 1 // This Chapter

Summary: It’s no secret that Artemis Shepard–Hero of the Alliance and Savior of the Citadel–hates Cerberus more than anything in the galaxy. The Illusive Man entrusts Miranda Lawson with the task of securing Shepard’s loyalty by any means necessary. But who is seducing who?

Miranda opens her terminal’s interface, and immediately sets it to privacy mode--a special setting she created to hide her personal activities, even from the Illusive Man. She visits an Extranet dating site, iPartner Connections, and opens the profiles of a few prospects. Holograms of their figures manifest in the middle of her room, and Miranda paces, examining the details as best as her interface will allow. Her mind keeps drifting back to Shepard, so she sips a glass of wine, quickly narrowing her matches down to three, before opening chats with each of them. One disqualifies due to his medical history, another is too chatty. Yet another writes her cheesy poetry--Miranda can’t block that one fast enough. Finally, she finds one who will do the trick, and she sets up a date on the Citadel. 

The man performs nicely, and for a moment Miranda’s mind finally stops thinking for one bloody second. As she puts her suit back on, she can’t help but wonder what Artemis thinks about sex. Her records don’t elaborate much. Artemis Shepard is discrete, or perhaps she eliminates those who seek to expose her--just like her namesake. Miranda wonders what seducing Shepard would feel like.

 Hours before they enter the Omega 4 Relay, Miranda finds Shepard in the lounge. Kasumi has long since fallen asleep, softly snoring to the soundtrack of the viewing pod across the room from her bed. Shepard herself seems to have forgotten about everything else but the glass sitting in front of her. A glass, Miranda notices, that lacks the tell-tale smudge from her lips.

“Care if I join you, Commander?” Miranda stops a few feet away, afraid she’s intruding on a private moment, but she neither of them have time for privacy.

“Plenty of stools open.” Shepard nods to her right, but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge Miranda.

The Cerberus agent moves around the bar, eyeing the shelves of liquor.  “What are you drinking?”

“I’m not.” Shepard grimaces as Miranda turns around. “It’s hard to explain.”

“I’ve got time.” Miranda pours herself a finger of bourbon, neat. She sits next to Shepard before the soldier replies.

“I haven’t had a drink l since I enrolled in N School.”

“What about the bottle in your cabin?” Miranda asks, taking a sip, savoring the hints of pepper and molasses.

Shepard shrugs. “Saving it for a special occasion, I guess. Or an emergency.”

“A suicide mission doesn’t qualify?”

Shepard snorts. “I spent six years of my life as wasted as I could get away with. If I’m going to die on this mission, I want to live every moment I can before that happens.”

Suddenly Miranda feels strange drinking next to her. “You were an alcoholic.”

“Still am.” Artemis glares at her glass. “I just haven’t had a drink in years.”

“You’re one of the strongest people I know.” Miranda says it softly, barely audible over the hum of the ship.

Artemis looks at her finally, and Miranda can see the bags under her eyes. The commander reddens and looks away. “Maybe I don’t want to be the strong one.”

Miranda traces the condensation forming towards the bottom of her glass. “I want to apologize, Shepard. When I first started working with you, I didn’t fully believe you were up to the task, and it seems I was wrong. Frankly, based on what I’ve seen, I wish Cerberus had recruited you earlier.”

Artemis sighs. “I want to trust you, Miranda, but I can’t trust Cerberus. Your experiments cross the line.”

“All the time, yes, but I recall a spectre who crossed a few lines herself hunting down Saren and the Geth.” Shepard makes a face but doesn’t say anything. “And we’d be lucky to have you. Too many join us out of simple xenophobia. We need more people here for the right reasons.”

Artemis slams her fist down, ranting about experiment after heinous experiment--the Thorian creepers, the Rachni--even Jack. Miranda calmly counters with reasoning she’s practiced in front of the mirror ever since the mission started.

“Then why join Cerberus?” Artemis folds her arms--guarded, but the fact that she’s willing to hear Miranda out says a lot.

“Because Cerberus never tells me something is impossible. They give me my resources and say do it.” Miranda dares to lean a little closer. “And they’ve given you even more. A new life. A new ship. The Illusive Man’s personal attention.”

Artemis snorts. “You make it sound dirty.” As Miranda hides her expression with her glass, Shepard continues. “Seriously though, I was wrong about you. The best thing he did was putting you on my squad. I couldn’t do this without you.”

“Sure you could. I may not have believed it before but, I don’t have what you do--that fire that makes someone willing to follow you into Hell itself.” Miranda stands, walking towards the window. “My father got me the best genes money could buy. Guess it wasn’t enough.”

“Why do you always bring this up?” Artemis watches her, and after a moment, follows her until they’re side by side in front of the stars.

“This is what I am, Shepard. I can’t hide it. The intelligence, the looks, even the biotics--he paid for all of that.” Miranda’s throat feels thick. She probably had too much of that bourbon. Or maybe this is the effect Shepard has on her--on everyone. “Every one of your accomplishments is due to your skill.” The next part comes out in a whisper. “The only things I can take credit for are my mistakes.”

“Bullshit, Miranda.” Miranda jumps. Artemis never swears, except, it seems, around her. “Don’t you get it?” Her voice rises in volume so much Miranda swears it’ll wake up the thief across the room. “You are the most capable person I’ve ever met. That’s what pisses me off. Your skills are wasted on Cerberus. Why help some shady shadow organization when you could be saving so many lives?”

“I saved yours.” Artemis smiles at that. “I had to. Based on your combat records, you’re a perfect, bloody human specimen.”

She leans closer, her breath washing across Miranda’s nose. It smells like cinnamon candy. She must have a stash in her cabin. “Perfect human specimen, huh?”

“Don’t get cocky. I do damn good work.” She runs a finger down Artemis’s cheek.

Shepard shivers at her touch. “Yeah you do.” They stand so close, Miranda isn’t sure who kisses who first. Sparks race through Miranda’s veins--and the room warms by several degrees--but it’s over too soon.

“What the hell was that?” Miranda smirks tasting Shepard’s peppermint chapstick on her lips.

Shepard pales. “A mistake.”

“Bullshit.” Miranda throws the word back at her, surprised at her own anger. She’s never been this emotionally involved with a mark before. Why is this different?

“I want you more than anything, I do.” Artemis traces her face with her fingers. “But I can’t compromise who I am. Especially not now.”

Miranda’s hands ball into fists. “Sleeping with me wouldn’t tarnish you, Commander.” She turns away. Artemis grabs her shoulder.

“Miranda, wait. That’s not what I meant.” Her hand slides down, squeezing Miranda’s slender fingers in her own. “If you left Cerberus, it would be different.”

“Would it really?”

Shepard nods. “But I can’t sleep with you with the Illusive Man watching your every move.”

“I can’t leave Cerberus. You know that.”

Artemis, to her credit, sinks as she nods. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Miranda. I wish you the best.”

“I suggest we both get some sleep.” Miranda kisses her cheek, placing a sedative in her hand.

Hesitating ever so slightly, Artemis returns the kiss to Miranda’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“Any time, Shepard.”