#ocean turian

[outergodly]

𓏵 Ocean Veldian ／ Turian｡ 

A flag for veldian ／ turian individuals who are, like, or feel connected to the ocean.

Requested by : Anon．

[ryanyflags]

Halloween turian pride flag :D !

(This uses a wintergreen version of the turian flag, here.)

I tried to make it like a water reflection, not sure if I drew it right though. I think it still looks decent.

✦-

I've made other Halloween pride flag drawings too, check the tag [halloween pride flag].

[julietianboy]

-> ocean sunset combo flag

[ ID 1: a flag with seven horizontal stripes, in the following colors: dark orange, orange, light yellow-ish orange, off-white, blue, dark-ish blue and dark purple. /End ID ]

[ ID 2: a flag with five horizontal stripes, in the following colors: dark orange, light yellow-ish orange, off-white, blue and dark purple. /End ID ]

- a combo of the sunset lesbian flag and the ocean gay flag.

[gmanmedias]

Some stimboards of my identities part 1/?

🧼 🧼 🧼

🤍 🤍 🤍

🫐 🫐 🫐

[sol-consort]

Just imagining a ship getting its first human join the team and before the first month is over the most searched on the net:

>Human courting rituals

>>What the hell is kissing???

>>>Human kissing safe for [Species]?

>Things humans take as compliments

>>how to flirt with humans

>>>Human baring teeth not aggression?

>>>>Human "Smile"

>>>>>how to tell if Human is flirting with you

>>>>>Humans comparing hand sizes courting ritual??

>Human Porn

>>Can humans and [Species] have sex safely?

>>>Human heat cycles all year long?

>>>>Human × [Species] porn

Or something 💦

Here's what I imagine each of their "educational" search history to be. Slight smut ahead? Mostly fluff.

Turians

The explanation behind the phenomenon of an entire species being absolutely annoying and impossibly alluring

Do humans find sharp teeth attractive

Why is the human skin so soft

Are humans soft inside

How does a human feel inside

Human/Turian porn

Can a turian safely preform oral on a human

Are humans okay with bites and scratches in bed

Top 5 kinks for human

Define being "rough in bed" (Our definition of rough is their definition of vanilla)

Ask Blueddit (Turian reddit?) "Do you guys also get turned on when your human friends are being frustrating? Is this normal? Why do I want to fuck them after each argument?

Human nests?

Human "beds"

Are humans aware of their own scent?

What does it mean when a human touches your waist

Define human "hugging"

Is hugging a mating ritual?

Human waist pictures

No seriously how are humans so soft?

How to kiss a human without injuring their lips

Is turian cum really toxic to humans?

Blue Talon healthcare Inc. Interspecies relationships, human edition pamphlet free copy

Can human ears hear Turian's purring frequency

Do humans enjoy purring

"Purring extends the human lifespan" Myth or fact?

What are cats?

Humans are brainwashed by a small predetor and they are okay with it?

Videos of earth cats

How to adopt a cat

Cat care package for first time owners discount deals

Ask Blueddit "Humans keep asking to come back to my home when I mention having a cat, has it really been that easy all along?"

-

Asari

How do humans view asari

What traits do humans consider the most attractive in a partner

Are humans exclusively monogamous?

Prime locations to court a human

Nightclubs near me

Humans kissing

Humans kissing video

How to download a video online

Define milf

Humans are more attracted to people who already had kids?

Human preference for partners older than them

Human fur

Human "hair"

Different types of human hair

Is blue a natural hair colour in humans

Why do humans dye their hair

Do humans enjoy it when you play with their hair

What's a hairpulling kink

Humans are turned on by pain?

What are the humans opinions on using biotics in bed?

Is blue really the most common favourite colour for humans?

Blue sky - earth

A tourist's guide to visiting earth, when is the prime season?

Beach season?

Why do humans walk around in their underwear near the ocean?

Human swimsuits pictures

Sexy human bikinis

Asari bikinis?

-

Krogans

Human heat cycle duration

Humans can breed all year long?

Define human "breeding kink"

what's a creampie

what's a pie

Why do humans calls sexual acts by food names

Actual real cream pies

Pi (misspelled)

Why do humans call a mathematical ratio by sexual acts terms

Pies

Pie flavours

What's the best pie to order

Human bakeries near me

Are human bones sturdy?

Human body can handle the weight of a krogan?

How deadly is a bone fracture to humans

Human-krogan sexual positions

Do humans enjoy getting picked up

Do humans enjoy sitting in other's laps

Define "manhandling"

Humans are turned on by strength?

Do humans find krogans attractive

How to court a human

Humans courting gift ideas

Earth roses

What are dates

How to ask a human out on a date

Poem inspirations

Do humans still consider being serenaded a romantic gesture?

-

+ Bonus

Protheons (just Javik tbh)

What happened to the wolves humans were trying to befriend?

Dogs

Cute dog videos

Define "cute"

What do humans consider adorable

Are pathetic helpless things adorable?

Are humans aware of how adorable they look to the rest of the galaxy?

Why do humans interpret my flirting as insults?

How to convince the humans to touch them

Human intimacy and physical affection

Videos of humans cuddling

Are humans still obsessed with throwing round objects?

Define "sports"

Most popular human sports

Human sports lack of death?

Why are humans so fragile and primitive

If I throw a ball would a human attempt to catch it?

[wafflesrock16]

Shakarian Viking/Soulmate AU

Remember how I said this idea wouldn't leave me? I had to write it out. Who else wants Viking berserker Shepard and Anglo-Saxon prince Garrus? Below a the cut.

Shepard watched as Jarl Anderson lowered his torch, setting the brittle branches at the base of the pyre aflame. The scent of pitch and smoke filled her nostrils, the loud crack of timber breaking the stillness of the gathered group of watchers. They stood near enough to feel the heat of the fire on their faces as it consumed the wooden structure, red tongued flames licking at the platform and the shrouded form that lay atop it. 

“He’s in Valhalla, now,” she heard Kaidan murmur. “We should all be so lucky to die in glorious battle.”

Shepard frowned. Jenkins had only been raised to the berserkers the year prior. He had never voyaged to the havens. This was to be his first raid along the Widow Sea’s frontier. He had known the risks, as did all who ventured here. Still, his death sat like a heavy stone in the pit of Shepard’s stomach.

At least he didn’t have a soulmate tethered to his spirit. There’s no one feeling hollowed out with inconsolable grief back home. The reasoning did little to staunch her guilt; if anything it only made it worse since it caused her to feel grateful she didn’t have a soulmate, either. 

Shepard sighed. She was the berserker commander. Jenkins was her responsibility. She wasn’t a wet nurse, but she ought to have kept an eye on him; at least admonished him to stay out of the trees. The silver-barked forests in this region were deadly. Old enemies with eagle eyes and rapier-like claws favored the cover the thick woods offered. 

She turned away from the funerary pyre and the low, solemn chanting that had begun as fire swallowed Jenkins mortal body. Nobody stopped her as she strode away from the conflagration, back toward the longboats. She needed a moment alone with her thoughts without guilt crowding in on her.

 The turians know we’re here—they must have spied us well before we made landfall though bleed me if I know how. Shepard found herself walking past where the dragon-headed longships had been pulled up onto the beach, lost in consideration. We outnumber them, though they have the advantage of knowing the terrain. They also have at least one skilled archer among them, even though that’s not who sent Jenkins off to Odin. 

No, a turian swordsman had done Jenkins in, and Shepard had returned the favor with her axe. It was small comfort. Humans and turians had battled for the land and wealth along the Citadel’s coast for time immemorial. There was talk of an asari negotiated peace treaty, but so far that’s all it was. Talk. Shepard wagered that nothing would come from those talks in her lifetime. And who knows how long that’ll be if we stay here?

Gravel crunched under her boots in the lengthening shadows of twilight. Shepard rounded a gentle curve in the land and came to stand on a dead tree, facing the North. The wind that whipped her fiery red hair about her face was warmer than back home. Then again, they were a long way from home, now.

She watched the dying light upon the waves, the ocean glittering like crushed diamonds. It would be dark soon. They’d need to make camp and plot their next course. Did they take the river deeper inland, as was the original plan? Or did they double back, take their chances in krogan territory where turians didn’t dare venture.

Against the crash of the breakers, Shepard missed the sound of a bowstring drawing taut. It was something else, some inexplicable tug at her heart, a susurration of unheard whispers in her ear, that caused her to suddenly duck and roll, the hidden knives she kept about her person flying into her hands. 

There was a loud thawk, as a barbed arrow embedded itself into the driftwood where she’d been standing. 

She flung a knife, gratified to hear the sound of a large body diving to the sand. She charged before the archer could restring his bow, tackling him to the ground with a savage roar. 

Eyes bluer than the center of a flame stared up at her from within a silver plated face, painted with the bold cobalt markings of Clan Vakarian. The turian’s crest of horns was cushioned by a clump of dried seaweed, tiny insects furiously buzzing about his head at the invasion. 

He flared his mandibles, exposing long, sharp, silver teeth. His jaw dropped as he took in his soon-to-be killer. Shepard sat astride his narrow waist, holding her second knife above his ridged nose, poised to strike. 

Something in those burning eyes softened. “You’re beautiful.” The rumbling subharmoinics seemed to embrace her, a vocal hug to reinforce the sincerity of his words. 

Shepard sucked in a deep breath. For the first time in years, ridiculously, tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “Shut up!” She shook her head as if to dislodge his words. “I hate you!”

Her hand holding the knife quivered. In the crystalline depths of his alien eyes, she saw herself reflected back, lips pulled back in a vicious snarl, red hair framing her face. The embodiment of a valkyrie and harbinger of death. Except, I don’t want to kill him, she realized. 

“I wasn’t trying to hit you,” the turian murmured. “If I had been, you’d already be dead. I hadn’t realized you were . . . you.” He suffused the word with a mix of awe and wonder that left Shepard’s chest feeling tight. 

With a cry born as much from confusion as frustration, Shepard rolled off him. She leaped to her feet, kicking a clump of sand. “Leave,” she commanded, wiping at her treacherous eyes. 

The turian slowly rose to his degi-grade feet. Sharp claws extended from the open toes of his boots. “What if I want to stay?”

Shepard glared at him. “Why should you stay? After what your clan did to our landing party this morning and us to you, shouldn’t you be regrouping?”

Why in the frozen hells was she crying? What was it about this turian of all people that had her feeling vulnerable as a new babe? She should kill him—he’d be back tonight with more men and slit her throat in her sleep. A small voice she couldn’t name told her that he wouldn’t do that. Not him. Not ever. 

“My name is Garrus,” the turian replied instead. “There are those who call me Archangel, but . . . it’s just Garrus, for you.” 

Shepard forced herself to look at him. Really look at him. He was tall and lean, as most turians were, and covered in metallic looking plates. He wore a deep blue tabard with the Vakarian family crest stitched out in thread-of-gold across his chest. A brown leather belt with well-made leggings and fine boots completed his attire. Not some common foot soldier or hunter turned mercenary, Shepard mused. Her eyes settled on the longbow laying at Garrus’ feet. It was nearly as tall as he was and looked like it was made of black yew wood. An expensive weapon. One only someone with a high tier could afford. 

Shepard’s eyes went wide as she realized who Garrus must be. “You’re the Primarch’s son.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgement, a hand moving to rub the back of his neck. Shepard was no expert on turian expressions but she’d swear Garrus looked embarrassed. 

Bright blue eyes met hers. “You seem to know me and my lineage, yet I confess, I have yet to learn your name.”

Shepard hesitated a moment before discarding any notion of subterfuge. What was the point? He could have killed her and hadn’t. She could have killed him and didn’t. Besides all that, she wanted to know him. “Commander Jane Shepard,” she said. “You can call me Shepard.”

Garrus extended his hand in a human gesture of greeting. “A pleasure to meet you, Shepard.” 

Shepard slipped her smaller hand into his. It was like being struck by lightning. There was a jolt, a suffusion of warmth flooding her veins, an invisible push in his direction. They collided at the same time, Garrus likewise shoved by an unseen force. 

She grasped onto his cowl, feeling like she were trapped in an undertow, liable to be swept away in the exultant rush of emotions, apt to drown in the depths of a feeling humanity blithely called ‘soulmates.’ Her skin tingled and she was hyper aware of Garrus’ proximity; the rough calluses of his three-fingered hands and prick of talons through her tunic where he held her waist. His pupils dilating and eclipsing the blue of his irises while his subvocals stuttered and a deep, percussive purr sundered in his chest. 

Shepard exhaled. “Oh.” 

Garrus lifted a shaky hand to gently brush away an errant lock of hair. “It is you,” he whispered, reverent. “You feel it too?”

She gazed up at him, feeling more a maiden than seasoned berserker. Her mouth parted to answer—

“Commander!”

Shepard pulled herself free from the whirlpool of Garrus’ presence to peer into the murky distance. “The others are looking for me,” she muttered. How long had she been gone? Sudden fear squeezed her heart as she considered what would happen if Garrus were discovered. She gave him a forceful shove. “They mustn’t see you. Go! Hurry!”

Garrus moved as though in a daze, stooping to retrieve his bow and taking a few tentative steps backward. “I’ll find you,” he swore. “I’ll come back for you, my dea.” 

Before Shepard could respond he was sprinting; a glimmer of lancing starlight through the gloam, a shape half-seen on the edge of the forest. We’ll find each other, she promised herself, even as Kaidan and Ashley came into view, helmets donned and axes at hand. What joke of the gods is it that my other half should be an ancestral foe, on ground my kin intend to soak in blue blood?

She turned towards her comrades, trying to shake off the chill that had settled over her like heavy snow with Garrus’ departure. The others would want to know what she’d been doing out here, alone in the dark. “Searching for answers,” she’d tell them. “Considering what to do next.”

She’d omit her blue eyed archer. That whatever came next, Garrus would play a major role. For now, she kept her soulmate sheltered within the confines of her rib cage, a constant companion to her own beating heart.

[bish-0-p]

Hello, I am Abeer Al-Habil from Gaza. I am in desperate need of help because my situation and my family's situation are very bad. I have lost my father and my brother, and my other brother is injured. There is no one to help us. I hope that you will help me and my family, please by donating through the link gfm or sharing. 🙏💔

https://www.gofundme.com/f/4qzqg-help-a-family-from-gaza

Donate please🙏

i'm sorry to hear about your brother, i hope he makes a swift recovery. i'm unable to donate at this time but i will share your story.

this fundraiser is at only 12k out of 70k

as of posting its at $12,496. let's hit $13,000 by tomorrow.

tagging for reach

@turian @vulpixelates @roguesrevenge @snikt111 @auttoton @bluekaddis @bikenesmith @cassiefisherdrake @frecklef0x @freakingquicksilver @hopebeloved @jupe-box @kat-of-nine-tales @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul @qtipping @cassteph

[drelldreams]

my headcanon for what different species call our galaxy:

asari: athame‘s fields, silver stream.

quarians: tides of light, path of light.

turians: silver road, seam of spirits.

salarians: way of souls, wheel of silver.

krogan: road of warriors, firestream.

elcor: silver meadow.

drell: tides of silver., silver ocean.

batarians: silver flames, river of light.

hanar: reflected path, way of the enkindlers.

[en8y]

[IMAGE ID: three rectangular flags with six evenly-sized horizontal stripes each. each flag has these top three stripes: burnt orange, light orange, and dull yellow-green. the first flag has these bottom three stripes: cool blue, medium green, and dark purple. the second flag has these bottom three stripes: dull teal, dull purple, and dark red-brown. the third flag has these bottom three stripes: bright orange, medium teal, and dark maroon. END ID.]

transolar veldian/turian: a veldian/turian/gay man who is transitioning to masculine girlhood/womanhood. the first flag is based on the ocean/toothpaste gay flag, and the second flag is based on the veldian/turian flag!

transolar turigirl/veldigirl: a veldian/turian/gay man who is transitioning to masculine girlhood/womanhood, and identifies as a girl/woman.

@radiomogai @liom-archive @obscurian @drowntowns @electrosaccharine @kimeditive @plutobie @honey-makes-mogai @fem-mogai

[obnebulant-mogai]

Turian Variant Flags!

[plain text: Turian Variant Flags! /end plain text]

In order: Apothane, Narcilix, Narcilix (alt), Neoboy, NPD, Acefog, Arofog.

Flags by me. Colors sampled from @noxwithoutstars' acefog and arofog flags.

IDs below cut:

In order:

[ID: A flag with five equal horizontal stripes. In descending order, the stripes are brick orange, off white, grape purple, dark grape purple, and dark magenta. End ID.]

[ID: A flag with five equal horizontal stripes. In descending order, the stripes are dark berry red, icy blue, sky blue, desaturated purple, and black. End ID.]

[ID: A flag with five equal horizontal stripes. In descending order, the stripes are bright pink red, pastel yellow, sky blue, dark blue, and dark purple. End ID.]

[ID: A flag with five equal horizontal stripes. In descending order, the stripes are lavender purple, white, icy blue, ocean blue, and navy blue. End ID.]

[ID: A flag with five equal horizontal stripes. In descending order, the stripes are brick red, pale yellow, lavender blue, dark lavender blue, and dark purple. End ID.]

[ID: A flag with five equal horizontal stripes. In descending order, the stripes are bright purple, white, bright green, leaf green, and dark green. End ID.]

[ID: A flag with five equal horizontal stripes. In descending order, the stripes are olive green, pale yellow, bright orange, berry pink, and dark purple. End ID.]

[sparatus]

Would you ever write a medieval (or turian equivalent) AU?

writer's would you ever

honestly if i could figure out a plot. abso-fucking-lutely, im a huge history whore, i LOVE medieval/historical aus esp for periods far enough back we don't have anybody who still remembers it (yes i'm side-eyeing that ww2 mshenko au), and for palavenian history i have the added bonus that i made it all up myself so i can go hard on the worldbuilding, yay me :)

it'd be pre-war for palaven, natch, and obv further back into pre-industrialization. obviously i'm biased and would want to visit tiirtias during its pre-republic era (before the assorted clans came together to work together towards mutual survival and formed a democratic republic), but in the interest of following the usual tropes of medieval aus it'd probably be more fun to hop back to the mainland so we can have, like, neighboring nations, lol. monarchy wasn't very common on palaven due to their strong community-first natures; only 3 nations had them, those being gaevuczh, cipritine, and vescia. cipritine was somewhat small and unremarkable before industrialization, despite their status as the oldest civilization on palaven, and vescia is a massive archipelago out in the ocean, so we'd probably want to check out gaevuczh (bird ireland, also ancestors of the colonists who formed edessan, space scotland), because they were actually a fairly major power on the mainland. they kept to themselves and were generally peaceful and content with their easily-defended mountain border to the south, but they were the only point of access to tiirtias across the xiy mnesi, making them valued trading partners if you wanted to do business with the far north, and they were a rich source of textiles besides.

.... oops worldbuilding dump, i think a medieval au on palaven with maybe valis and fedorian as gaevig nobility and des as a visiting otoran dignitary could be fun :)

[outergodly]

Ocean⠀Veldian ╱ Turian⠀flag，⠀for⠀Veldians ╱ Turians⠀who⠀like⠀the⠀ocean，⠀please？⠀Thank⠀you！

Queued for 12:00 EST on Wednesday, the 26th.

[ryanyflags]

turiangender/veldiangender | lesbiangender (sunset) | lesbiangender (sappho)

Some misc. alt orientationgender flags

Flags for all of these terms already exist, but I wanted to make my own versions.

-

These all follow the 5 stripe orientationgender format as seen here.

Turiangender uses the wintergreen/ocean turian flag here. (It's a personal favourite of my mine.)

Lesbiangender (first one), uses the sunset lesbian flag. I wanted one that was more colourful/orange pink.

Lesbiangender (second one), uses the sappho lesbian flag. I think it's a nice alt to the sunset and aurora flags.

[teamdilf]

WIP tagging game for Science Experiments pretty please?

My latest DILF work that I've been poking away at this week!

“When my sprouts were little, they were tasked with taking care of an egg for several days. Something about ensuring they were ready for parenthood, as if making sure an egg didn’t break offers proper insight into the headache that is two screaming infants at four in the morning when work gets you up at six,” Alec says, and he’s not quite sure the point his friend is attempting to make. 

“I’m not mothering a fucking poultry egg or whatever the shit humans eat on this planet,” Wrex says. “Unless it’s one of those big damned ones that grows that bird that knows how to kick ass.” 

“Ostriches?” Alec supplies. 

“Nah, they’re fucking pushovers compared to this one. They live in that country where all the dangerous shit lives. The little one? Y’know, in the bottom corner?” 

“Yes, because round objects do tend to feature a wide array of corners,” Alec says sarcastically. “Or are you a flat Earther?” 

“Flat objects don’t have corners, do they?” Adrien says. 

“They do if they’re not fuckin’ round and, shit, I didn’t mean in a literal corner. I meant it’s in the middle of the damned ocean and full of bugs and snakes and those little cephalopods that look cute and tiny but sting the shit out of you!” 

“Oh! You’re talking about Australia. The birds are cassowaries,” Adrien says, and the lot of them turn to look at Adrien, who shrugs. “I saw them one time while we were here on vacation and the tour guide indicated that they were the most dangerous birds on the planet. You’ll be pleased to know I managed to resist making a quip about turians slipping under the radar.”

“No, cassowaries are a lot more dangerous. You can be reasoned with,” Wrex says. “But I’d raise one up. Perfect pet!” 

He’s keen to point out that generally animals that are capable of slaughtering a person do not make good pets but recognizes that, culturally, krogan tend to disagree with that notion.

[greypetrel]

"You make a fool of death with your beauty" for Max! 💗

Hi Mo! ✨

Thanks for asking Max! This is actually the first thing I finish with her and I don't know what to say. She developed a voice of her own, and that voice is silly. Prompt list here! I hope the random Italian isn’t too much, but here are notes. Her family was from Livorno, so beside "nassa" please note that everything else is typical of just that area, and won't be used or used like this outside Tuscany: Nassa: Those wooden traps you leave on the bottom of the sea to catch lobsters and big crustaceans. (she has a moment of unsureness because I have? You bet she does.) “Bravo bimbo”: “Good lad”. In Tuscany it is used as a random way to address people with a positive sense to it, the way you’d use “dude” or “lad”. The dispregiative correspondent would be: “grullo” ("Bimbo" can mean "child", but not in this case and in this region, it's just a dialectal use that has nothing to do with age. It's VERY typical.) “Maremma maiala”: Litterally it means: “Maremma is a swine”. Maremma is the region on the coast on the south of Tuscany, before Lazio begins. Today it's a beautiful place full of pretty beaches, but in the XIII century, when Siena closed the region off to agriculture, it soon became a big malsane swamp... And remained a place to swear upon for tuscanians.

Lobster Trap

Oh and you in all your vibrant youth How could anything bad ever happen to you? You make a fool of death with your beauty And for a moment I forget to worry - Hunger, Florence + the Machine

“Please. This is my mission, and you all know I’m the best qualified for it.”

Shepard groaned, rolling her eyes at the heavy clouds filling the sky, and quickly batted her eyelashes against the rain. She didn’t listen to Garrus telling her she was stupid and reckless and making him older by the minute, he swore, and climbed up the Atlas herself, grumbling right back and asking him if he knew anything of currents and underwater pressure, because she actually did. When the Turian couldn’t answer and just glared at her with reproach on his face, she ignored him and kept on muttering to herself that if her family had had an Atlas when she was little, they would have been filthy rich.

“Do you know how many… How do you say nassa in English, urgh. Lobster traps? Lobster trap.” She decided, testing control rods and buttons before actually turning everything on and belting herself in. “Well, do you know how many we could have pulled out at once? There are lobsters on Mindoir, you see, and pretty big, full of tasty meat. But catching them is awful work, they are electric, like eels. With this it would have been so easy, you guys have no idea…”

She kept on grumbling, and Liara lightheartedly hated how cool she was in all that. How she could make it such not a big deal over diving to the bottom of an ocean to speak with a mind-controlling creature forgotten since Goddess knew how many cycles. As if it was a normal Tuesday. She knew her well enough to know that it wasn’t even a façade: she was, actually, eager to get in. As if it was just another fishing trip.

“You’re not going to catch lobsters, please stop.” Liara snapped in frustration, stopping her from going on and on about how exactly lobsters are caught, how electric ones are, what’s a nassa that she kept failing to remember the exact term for not in Italian, and how big Mindoir lobster pincers were.

Max looked down at her. Battered up, hair ruffled from the fight, and make up ever so slightly melted around her eyes from all the rain and splashes of sea water. She blinked twice, pondering who knew what and considering both Garrus and Cortez, down there looking at her with equal apprehension.

“As if.” She shrugged it off. “It’s going to be ok, I swear.”

She smiled and winked, in that self-assured way she had and was so comforting for others. No one wanted a commander unsure of herself, and she had plenty self-esteem to pull through and make you believe she knew what she was talking about. Except, she said the same when the first Normandy got crashed and she stayed behind, smiling and winking at her and telling her it would have been ok. Every time she did it, right before jumping in the next crazy mission, it still felt like that time, the aura of effortless calm somewhat ruined.

And this time, there wouldn’t have been any help, or any knowledge of her. Liara was no engineer, she never sailed for more than a day, never worked on the sea as Max did in her youth, she didn’t know about currents or lobster traps or water pressure and compensation… But she knew that heavy objects tended to drown and not be brought back to surface. If she drowned, there would be no body to recover, no body to try and resurrect yet again or just mourn.

“What if something happens down there? Doctor Bryson-”

“- She is alive and well, gave me an hint of what will happen and the limits I shouldn’t push.” She interrupted her, still self-assured, still as if she knew what she was doing. “We can’t allow to let this chance go, and I’m the better qualified to get down there, beside being the Commander of this crew. It will be fine, Liara.”

“What if Leviathan is hostile?” She kept on, ignoring the hint at how she was in command. She was allowed, right there and then, to act as the girlfriend and not as the crew member. “If you’re missing, all the alliances you’ve built… You can’t afford to get down there. Leave it be, if they could help us they would have already. How many cycles did they withstand without doing anything? Why this one should be different?”

“T’soni isn’t wrong, you know…” Garrus scoffed, still working on the terminal to check everything was all right and the Atlas was functional enough. “This piece of junk has been still for too long, it’s full of salt and I doubt its joints will move smoothly.”

Max just groaned and rolled her eyes, and pushed the closure of the belts open.

“Well, it won’t have flexibility, so what? It still has reach.”

“… That was on me, was it.”

She jumped down the Atlas as Garrus sighed in defeat -no one really understood why of all things, Max would mock him with hints at stuff that had reach and/or flexibility, but it never failed to make Garrus abandon the argument. Ignoring him, she marched to Liara with a purpose, stopping but a step away and looking at her with a frown and a stubborn bent of her lips. Instead of talking, she turned back to Cortez, an eyebrow raising.

“Any other comment?” She asked.

“Bring back a lobster if you find one.” Cortez just shrugged.

“Bravo bimbo.”

Then she turned back to Liara, cupped her face with both hands -the kevlar of her gloves was wet and slippery, but she held on without hurting her. Half it was Max to bend forward, half it was always her dragging the asari so she had to take a step not to fall against the woman, but she kissed her, hard and passionately and long.

When she let go with a smack and a last nib to her lower lip, her lipstick was smudged and faded, and she was pink on the cheeks, her smile brighter.

“I’m not letting the space lobster catch me first. I’m coming back, I promise.”

Liara watched her getting back on the Atlas, bickering back and forth with Garrus who started mocking her immediately for sentimentality, and with two fingers pointed at her brow and snapping up and a last wink, she went, jumping in the sea with an excited gait.

And then, there was nothing to do but wait another time, praying that she wasn’t lying to cheer her up.

Garrus patted her shoulder, sitting beside her on a loose crate.

“Come on. She’s coming back, as always.”

“Yes, until she won’t and I won’t have anyone to scold with a ‘I told you so’.”

“I know. No wonder she gets along so well with the Krogans.”

“Yes. The same hard head.”

“Too hard to be cracked by a space lobster, for sure.” A pause. “Particularly one she wants to eat.”

She snorted then, and felt a little better.

---

They extracted her from the Atlas unconscious and with blood trickling down her nose. The glass of the Atlas cracked, and water had trickled in, splashing violently out when they forced it open. Thankfully, it reached the surface before she got submerged past her chest.

It took both Garrus and Cortez to move her and lay her down on the ground, totally unresponsive and unmoving… But as Liara checked right after, fingers trembling and a wrong set of memories dancing in front of her eyes -her skin wasn’t grey, it still was the same warm shade of brown, she wasn’t dead, she wasn’t dead- as they pressed upon her throat, back of her hand ghosting in front of her nose and lips.

She was breathing, at least, but no amount of calling could wake her, and Liara dared not shaking her. If she hit her head or her neck, jostling her too much would have hurt her more.

“Does the shuttle work?” She turned, asking Cortez.

“Ready whenever, the engines aren’t wet.”

“Go back to the Normandy, call for-”

A heavy set of coughs and when she turned, Max was rolling to her side, shoulders shaking as she violently coughed, curling on herself. Everyone relaxed some, seeing that she was, after all, still alive in spite of all odds, one more time.

“Maremma maiala, that was one hell of a lobster.” She exclaimed, breathing heavily and combing her hair back from her face with a hand. She turned to Liara, a ghastly expression on her face.

Her expression was weird. Weirded out, in a way she never was. Maybe it was just that she had blood on her upper lip, spreading widely on her wet skin and the kohl on her eyes was melted and made her look like a panda. She saw her in worse conditions, but after witnessing Ann Bryson get mentally controlled by Leviathan…

Liara glomped, dreading the answer to the next question. A quick glance with Garrus, tho, confirmed her worries. The Italian swearing could have been a trick.

“Are you… Still you? What happened?” She asked, heart beating fast and holding back from touching her.

“There were more of them.” She said, blinking, still catching up. “I spoke with them. I’m not sure they’re fully reliable or friendly, and I have no idea whether we can trust them, but…”

“But…?”

Max turned towards her, expression melting some and eyes keening, as her lips curved in a smirk. A brief anticipation for-

“… but, we can’t possibly make enough mayonnaise to serve them with, so I thought I’d better convince them to help out.”

Liara swatted her arm, exasperated, and Max started laughing.

“You’re an idiot, Shepard.” Garrus concluded, relief in his voice.

Liara cared little for it. She moved forward, hugging her neck and holding her close. Max was still laughing when she hugged her back, relaxing under her frame and resting her head on the asari’s shoulder. A minute signal of relief and tiredness.

And for a moment, thinking of ancestral aliens boiled and covered in mayonnaise -a feat which she had no doubt Max would have succeeded-, having her there between her arms, alive and breathing and with yet another crazy mission she survived in spite of all odds, and well enough to joke about it… Liara forgot to worry about the future.

---

“ALFONSO IL GRANCHIO DEL COCCO!”

Max startled up to bed, waking up abruptly with the realization. When she turned to the side, there was Liara, glaring daggers at her from the one eye that wasn’t pressed into her pillow. If she hadn’t known her better she would have believed she was about to be made levitate away from the room.

“What the fuck, Max?” The Asari asked, voice filled half with sleep, half with resentment.

“Alfonso il granchio del cocco!” She repeated, heatedly. “It’s… Sorry, Alfonso the coconut crab! Leviathan was him!”

Liara groaned aloud and turned on her back, massaging the bridge of her nose with long fingers.

“Ok.” She sighed. “I know I’m going to regret asking, but who is Alfonso?”

Max grinned more widely, and moved forward, splaying herself horizontally on the bed -and over her back- to reach the tablet on Liara’s bedside table. The Asari huffed, as her weight fell on her back, but it was but a moment. She pressed a fleeting kiss on the tip of one of her tentacles, and pushed herself back to her place on the bed, raising the pillow to prop her back against.

It was Liara who switched the light on her bedside table on, grumbling with still sleep in her voice that she was gonna get blind if she kept on reading screens in the dark. Max chuckled, slipping down a little to accommodate her girlfriend scooching closer and circle her waist with an arm, face hidden in her side.

“I thought Leviathan reminded me of something…”

“Yes, a lobster. You also calculated the exact amount of mayonnaise we’d need for it.”

“Mpf, yes, but no. Lobsters are cute and spry, Leviathan wasn’t. It was heavy and grim and basically a tank, I had it on the tip of my tongue until now…” She explained, tapping quickly on the tablet with her fingers. “AH! Look, it’s him!”

Liara sighed deeply and climbed up, hugging the other properly and resting her head on her shoulder, able then to look at the screen and whatever video she meant to make her look at. If she was speaking of coconut crabs with a name, she expected an illustrated book, or some cartoon made for children. She paid no attention and waited, eyes half lidded and relaxed, all cozy with her warm body so close and-

- and then, after too few seconds the music suddenly spiked up and there were two people screaming over heavy and horribly loud guitars and drums.

Alfonso il granchio del cocco Ti apre in due come una scatoletta di tonno- 🎶 *

She let out a yelp, now fully startled awake, jumping on her spot with heart beating fast. Of course she set the volume to full.

The screaming was continuing, and Max started to laugh out loud, shoulders shaking with it.

“You and your damn music!”

Liara swatted her shoulder, and Max just laughed more, launching the tablet away to slide back down, back on the bed and legs bent up, holding her stomach.

“No but you don’t get it, it’s from an old Italian scientist who made videos about animals, and in this he also got a song and-”

She was stopped with a kiss and a hug, which she laughed halfway through it, as the song kept on.

Max’s damn music would have been the death of Liara - she still hadn’t discovered how to stop her cabinets playing You Shook Me All Night Long every time she opened one.

In that moment, tho, she even forgot that she should have been worried about the future.

--- * Alfonso the coconut crab He opens you in two like a tuna can

[sol-consort]

Drell/turians have black sclera as a result of a possible evolution advantage to camouflage their pupils, so a wandering prey can't determine their line of sight

In comparison to human's light sclera–to them, human eyes focusing on something is so obvious and feels ten times as intense in their brain that's used to subtlety.

Imagine that all your life you get used to looking for cues in other's eyes to determine if they're looking at you or not. Drell's large pupils blend in with their sclera, creating the illusion of an abyssal ocean. Wasn't it for the turian's slightly radioactive irises, resulting in a dim glow, their eyes would've been just as dark as a starless sky.

Then this human comes in, and their gaze is so shamelessly blatant. It's crystal clear to determine what they're looking at. Be it the human trailing their eyes over your body or when they steal a quick glance at you from across the room. You can't even ignore it if you tried... and you have tried. A siren goes off in your brain, a deep primal instinct that's forced awake.

The whole "feel someone's eyes on you" pushed to the extreme, the heat of their gaze, the emotions emphasised by the twinkle–or lack of–in their eyes. The way humans compare eyes to the windows of the soul. Holding eyecontact is considered a sign of respect, friendliness, and paying attention.

The problem is that by drell and turians standards, it's way too much attention. Resulting in them either getting flustered and looking away or enjoying being the centre of your world and revelling under the spotlights of your gaze.

Or...a turian/drell brain might misinterpret it as danger, looking directly into the eyes of a predetor and having to calm their nerves. No, this human isn't looking for a fight or planning to eat them, despite how intrusive a mere glance from them feels.

Having a casual conversation with a human they just met, how strange it feels being able to follow their line of sight so easily, watching you study their face in real time. How you trace the lines and markings on their skin, studying its texture, drinking in their features with your gaze, glancing at their lips multiple times. They have to remind themselves that this is...normal behaviour from your kind. It isn't a proclamation of desire nor an invitation.