#jaal has nothing going for him except thighs the size of god

[tinyfierce]

"Honestly, just stop it," for Evfra/Ryder. Or "We really need better people," for Jaal/Ryder. Thank you for all the ficlets, they are really awesome!

[Prompts from thispost. Still open!]

(Glad you’re enjoying these!

The first timeGil was on extended shore leave, the rest of the Tempest crew tookadvantage of his absence to have Poker Night on something resemblinga level playing field. Vetra, the only experienced bartender onboard, ran the whole thing like they were in a seedy off-strip bar onOmega -

-complete withabsolutely terrible alcohol.

“Addsto the ambience,” she said, and Drack let out a booming laugh.

“Damnright,” he said. “If your cup’s clean, you’re not on Omega.”

“Whatis Omega,” Jaal asked as his glass was refilled, “and why is itterrible?”

“Oh,let me.” Liam raked in the chips and started sorting them back intothe holding rack. “So, picture Kadara, except a tenth the size withtwice the people. Every type of crime you can imagine, and some youcan’t. No government and no rules.”

“Itwas great,” Drackinsisted.

“Itwas a pit,” Cora corrected him, “and the source of a lot ofproblems. Drugs, weapons, bribes, you name it – it could all betraced back there at some point.”

“Hadthe best strippers, though.”

“Drack.”

Rydersnickered as she listened to the banter around the table. They sorarely got to relax like this together, especially so informally. Thesmack talk that had been encouraged over the game – Cora cleanedthem all out, naturally – had made Liam practically vibratewith happiness. They were just coming off of a big win, too, havingKadara back in (at least for appearances’ sake) Angaran hands. Theywere salty, they were drunk, and they were bonding.

“We’vestill got hours in the night and a lotmore booze,” Peebee pointed out from her seat. Though the game wasover, no one had left the table. “And I’m not leavingempty-handed.”

“Iturn this over to our social coordinator,” Ryder said, sippingsomething god-awful with a curl of some mystery fruit wedged on therim. “Liam?”

Hethought a moment, flipping a poker chip between a few fingers.Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he palmed it on the table. “Got it.‘Never have I ever,’ no limits.”

Theother humans at the table groaned, but Peebee leaned in. “Ooh, youhad me at ‘no limits.’ Rules?”

“Itgoes like this,” he explained, pulling the lowest-level chips outfrom their bay. “We go round in a circle, each person making a‘never have I ever’ statement, anywhere from 'never have I everbroken a bone’ to 'never have I ever had sex in zero-g.'”

Peebeetook a drink. “Oh, I am gonna lose this game.”

“Ifyou match,” he continued, “you’re safe. But if you have done it,you take a chip. Person with the least at the end wins.”

“Sowhat are the stakes?” Drack pulled over a bottle with scribbledKrogan writing on it and popped the cap.

Amoment of silence passed before a suitable prize occurred to Ryder.

“Ihave a photo of Director Tann faceplanting on his office stairs,”she said. “I framed it. Win and it’s yours.”

Judgingfrom the enthusiastic reactions thatgot, things were about to get fun. As everyone got up for last-minuterefills, Jaal leaned over.

“Areyou sure, taoshay? Youlove that picture.”

Rydersmiled over the rim of her glass. “SAM was taking video. I canreplay it in my visor whenever I feel down.”

Hechuckled and squeezed her thigh affectionately, straightening as theothers began to return. When the last butt was in the last seat, thegame was on.

“I’llstart,” Liam said, clearing his throat. “Never have I ever…tried Ryncol.”

Halfof the hands around the table went up, though no one was surprised.Drack, Vetra, Peebee, and Ryder all took chips.

“Iwas a bartender,” Vetra said. “What’s your excuse, Ryder?”

“Mybrother dared me,” she offered, and Drack snorted.

“Therest of you idiots don’t know what you’re missing.”

Liam folded hisarms. “Your liver, your baddecisions. You’re up, Drack.”

“Right,”he rumbled. “Never have I ever gotten my hand stuck in a vendingmachine trying to steal a copy of Fornax.”

Everyonelaughed as Peebee was the only one to take a chip, angrily snatchingit from the center of the table. “Damnit, Drack! I told you thatstory in confidence.”

Coraleaned back. “Oh, I want to hear this.”

“Iwas young and curious!”

“Howold were you,” Jaal asked, and Peebee looked sheepish.

“Fifty?”

“Speaking ofyoung and stupid,” Vetra interrupted, “never have I ever punchedmy sibling in the junk.”

Ryder, Jaal, andDrack all raised their hands, the latter most enthusiastically ofall.

“Par for thecourse,” he declared. “You only really need three balls, anyway.”

Jaal took his chip,chuckling at what clearly was a fond memory. “Does it still countif it was an accident?”

“Depends,”Vetra said. “Was it actually an accident?”

Jaal smirked. “No.But that was what I told our mothers.”

“That’s going inmy next e-mail to your mom,” Ryder threatened, and Jaal cleared histhroat as he pointedly tapped the chip she had alsotaken that round.

“Ibelieve it is my turn,” he said, leaning his elbows on the table.“Very well. Never have I ever… run about naked after drinking.”

Peebeelet loose a string of colorful swears as she took yet another chip,joined by both Liam and Drack.

“Tooktwo dozen C-sec officers to take me down,” Drack boasted. “Hellof a Monday.”

Liamlaughed. “Wish I’d been there. My bit’s boring – got overheatedand didn’t think I needed clothes, I guess. Even went for a swimin the Academy fountain and started a tradition.”

“Wereally need better people on the Tempest,” Ryder muttered into herdrink with a smile, and her second-in-command apparently agreed.

“I am institutingan at-least-pants rule on the ship, with the Pathfinder’spermission,” Cora announced, and Ryder toasted her assent, much tothe chagrin of the other players.

“Aw, don’t besuch a wet blanket.” Peebee pointed to Cora’s nonexistent pile.“Either you’re hiding something, or you are the most boringperson-who-decided-to-jump-into-deep-space ever.”

Cora said nothing,only smiled and drank, earning her a frustrated groan from the Asari.

“I told youI would lose. All right, who’s next?”

“I’m up. Neverhave I ever…” Ryder considered her statement, given theincreasingly risque turn they had each been taking. “Never have Iever had sex with someone of the same gender.”

Jaal, Vetra, andPeebee all took chips, prompting some murmurs around the table.

Vetra studied theAngara through her visor, mandibles flaring in amusement.“Interesting, Jaal.”

“Imake no effort to hide it.” Smirking, he seemed almost boastful ashe crossed his arms. “You’ve met my former commander, and have seenfor yourself how attractive he is.”

“Seriously,”Liam managed, “you’re telling me that you slept with yourC.O.? While still in the ranks?”

“Givesa whole new meaning to 'serving under’ someone,” Peebee joked, andJaal tilted his head.

“Youassume too much about the roles in our relationship,” he countered,and Liam choked on his drink.

“Jaal,”he coughed, “have I told you lately that I love you?”

Jaalrumbled a laugh. “I love you too, Liam.”“Don’tsee what the issue is,” Drack said, pouring himself another.“Krogan do it all the time. Fighting’s a hell of an aphrodisiac.That, and blood.”

“Was with you upuntil that last part,” Peebee said. “Going to have to callbullshit on Cora, though.”

Cora frowned.“What? I didn’t take one.”

“I know!”Peebee leaned over the table, practically crawling over the stack ofchips in the middle. “And I’m calling. You. Out.”

“All that time inclose with the Asari commandos,” Liam added, “and you never?”

“No.”

“Noteven once. Trapped in a cave or a safehouse, alone -”

“No,Liam.”

Vetragestured with the hand holding a glass. “And your hair.”

“Ohmy god,” Cora said, exasperated. “A Turiandoes not get to lecture me on my undercut.”

“Andif we’re all female, technically Asari are genderless, so…” Peebeeshrugged innocently. “She could technically still notbe lying.”

“That’s it, I’mending this right now.” Cora set her drink down and pointed to thechips. “Never have I ever slept with anyone outside my own race.”

This time, it wasPeebee, Vetra, Ryder, and Jaal who took chips.

“All right,fair,” Peebee muttered.

“Dated a Drellfor six months,” Vetra said, brandishing her chip. “Beats anyhigh on the market.”

That garnered someprobing discussion, cut short when Peebee took count.

“Wait,” shesaid, frowning. “Jaal, I thought that aside from the Kett, we werethe first outsiders to Heleus.”

Ryder tensed, andshe saw him do the same.

“You were,” hesaid plainly.

All eyes turned tohim, except for Cora - who nonchalantly sipped her drink and shotRyder a meaningful sideways glance.

Well?their silence asked, and Ryder could see Jaal hesitate.

Fuckit, she thought as she finished her drink and set it down on thetable. She raised her empty hand, waving it to catch their attentionand rescue her lover.

“Pathfinder,reporting for duty.”

Corasmiled, and Ryder felt Jaal’s hand seek hers under the table.

Silence,then an explosion.

“Holyshit, since when -”

“Iknew it! Ha! I told you, I knew somethingwas going on -”

“Spirits, just tell me not on the common room couch-”

“Heh.Must be nice to be young.”

“Whomade the first move, then?”

“Well,he was already okay with sleeping with his commander, so -”

“Thisis legitimately historical and important-”

“Andnot in our showers, right?”

“Whoelse knows?”

Despitethe feeling of an onslaught, Ryder could see that Jaal was as pleasedby the attention as he was embarrassed, attempting to answer whateverquestions he could. For her part, the Pathfinder was surprised tofind herself rather nonplussed by the entire thing, almost relievedthat there was no need for some sort of grand announcement. She’d hadnightmares about the latter. But here, over drinking games and pokerand good-natured barbs, it felt as right as it was going to get.

“Details,Ryder,” Peebee pleaded from her left, and Ryder snickered.

“Oneword,” she said, pausing for dramatic effect. “Bioelectricity.”

Thatearned her some laughs, Peebee dragging her palms down her face.

“Ryder,I am literally so jealous of you right now that I could die.”

“Youcan’t die yet – it’s your turn.”

“Oh,shit. Right. Ahem.” She straightened, folding her hands neatly infront of her. “Never have I ever… seen a Blasto vid.”

Acollective gasp came up from the rest of the table, and she backedaway defensively. “What? They’re total trash.”

“You’rewrong,” Vetra toldher, and Liam stood up from his seat.

“Youneed to be educated,” he said, “and I have Blasto One througheight on my drive, including the holiday special.”

“Noo,”Peebee whined, but it was too late. Bottles were grabbed, arms weretaken prisoner, and the group was on the move to the bridge to hijackthe projector. Jaal hung back, waiting for Ryder to join him.

“I…”he began as they walked. “Was that… all right?”

“Yeah.It’s good.”

Hesmiled, lifting his arm to invite her beneath it. She accepted,draping her arm lazily about his waist.

“Iwas surprised,” he admitted. “You prefer to… discuss suchthings, and we never had the chance.”

“True.”She laughed. “I don’t know if it’s because I’m that drunk or I loveyou that much, but it worked out.”

Atthe word 'love,’ the hand on her shoulder squeezed warmly. He alwaysreacted when she said it aloud.

“So,”he prompted. “What is a Blasto?”

#prompts #drabbles #jaal ama darav #jaal x ryder #jaal #fem!ryder #cora harper #liam kosta #drack #peebee #vetra #never have i ever #game night

[writeyouin]

Hey if you have time: ReaderXChekov where reader gets injured on an away mission and has to go see McCoy but plot twist reader is afraid of doctors and tries to hide. Chekov finds reader and drags/coaxes them to med-bay and stays while they get treated and is in general a good partner and friend. Bonus points if McCoy is grumpy that they are being so affectionate while he is trying to work, but secretly is glad Chekov is there because he knows reader is scared of doctors.

Chekov X Reader – An Apple a Day

A/N – Writing for Chekov but thinking of Jaal in Mass Effect Andromeda.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

There was no doubt about it. Being a red shirt officially sucked. Sure, you’d often heard jokes about it but you’d never actually believed it. Now, you were stuck behind a rock on a desert outcrop, shielding yourself from Klingon fire while Kirk and Spock did the same a few metres away. Ideally, you could have laid covering fire down all day until Scotty beamed you back aboard the Enterprise. The planet however, ruined that plan with its highly magnetic field, meaning that because of interference with the sensors, Scotty could only beam the three of you back if you were all grouped together; that meant you had to leave the safety of cover so as not to risk Kirk or Spock’s life. It’s not that you didn’t trust Kirk and Spock to have your back but being the only security member there left you wishing you were the one protecting your team, the way it was meant to be; after all, you were the best shot of the landing party.

“I couldn’t have been more scientifically minded. Nooo, I had to decide punching things was more fun.” You grumbled silently, mentally preparing yourself for what was to come next.

At Kirk’s nod, you sprinted the daunting gap which had seemed pitifully small only a few minutes ago. Seconds before you made it to safety, you felt a stinging sensation under your ribs. You knew all too well the pain of a phaser shot and this most certainly wasn’t it. A risky glance at your attackers revealed that the Klingons were accompanied by some form of unknown animal. It was a creature the likes of which you’d never seen before, an iguana-like animal, about the size of a large German Shepard, that apparently spat some form of acid. You felt tugging on your arm and in the next instance, the three of you were back in the transporter room.

Kirk gave you a concerned once-over, his gaze lingering on your torn shirt, the bile had lightly burnt the skin underneath. You glanced down at the injury; fortunately, it wasn’t causing much pain past a light stinging.

“Spock, comments?” Kirk demanded, never looking away from you.

“The Klingons have been suspected of creating genetic hybrids for some time now, Captain. Lieutenant (L/N)’s injury appears to be the work of the first one we’ve seen; effects are unknown. It is advisable that the lieutenant is escorted to med-bay for immediate treatment and long-term observation.”

Kirk nodded at the practical analysis, meanwhile, deep-routed fear clawed at the back of your mind, making you nervous about what could come if you didn’t act fast. Hiding your reservations, you tittered a small laugh, Spock raised a curious eyebrow.

“Come on guys, a doctor for this paper cut? I’ve had worse injuries from falling over, I feel fine, really.” You grinned breezily.

“No, Lieutenant.” Kirk argued. “I want you checked over by Bones.”

You held up your hands in mock surrender. “Alright, you got it. I’ll go to med-bay right now if it puts your mind at ease. Still, I really do feel fine so it’d be a waste of your time for you to escort me when I already know the way.”

“You sure?”

“Stop fussing, will you? I’ll see you later.”

Before any more arguments could be made you ran out of the room, taking a left for the turbolift but changing direction as soon as you knew it was safe to. If you were going anywhere, it was straight to your hab-suite for a change of clothing. Once in the safety of your room, you glanced at the wound which had dried out rather quickly, you hid it with the new shirt and left quickly, heading to the one place you would fade into the background; Engineering.

“Vhat do you mean ‘not here’? Vhere else could (s)he be?” Chekov asked McCoy dubiously. He’d come to pick you up from med-bay as a surprise only to find a disgruntled McCoy arguing with Spock over the comm-link.

“I mean that (Y/N) is not in this room, nor has (s)he been here since the mandatory physical at the beginning of the year.” McCoy growled gruffly.

“But (s)he’s hurt, zhe Captain said so.”

“I’m sure (s)he is but I don’t have time to play a damned game of hide and seek on a ship this big. You want my advice? Get a tracking device. Better yet, check with Scotty, (s)he’s probably with him in engineering anyway.”

“Really?” Chekov looked hopeful.

“HOW THE HELL SHOULD I KNOW?” McCoy burst out irritably. “You’re not gonna find anything here, go ask somebody else and stop wasting my time, I do actually have other patients, damn it.”

Chekov knew better than to provoke McCoy further, he left the doctor alone and begun his search for you, trying to reach you through your communicator every so often but receiving no reply.

You didn’t remember entering the empty storage room, in fact, you didn’t remember much at all. All you could focus on now was the debilitating effect the iguana-dog had had on you; evidently, the bile it produced was a fast acting venom with a delayed start, not an acid. Knowing what had damaged you however didn’t help, what you needed now was a cure. You were currently experiencing a wide-array of symptoms, each worse than the last. It had started with mild nausea and sweating. Then came the dimming vision. After that, your breathing had become shallow and laboured. Even if you wanted to see a doctor now, which you didn’t, it wouldn’t be possible; small movements alone caused serious pain to flare through your body, as if your skin was on fire.

The next stab of pain caused you to wonder exactly how much time had passed, it had lost its effect at some point around the dimming vision. Had it been seconds or hours? Was it even the same day or had you slipped into a different one? How long did it take for the various new symptoms to occur?

At some point during your suffering, mild delirium set in. You were stuck reliving the previous battle, except, with each rendition, there was something else out of place. In one battle, you were walking on the ocean’s waves, in another you were fighting the people you’d lost through the years. Finally, you could hear echoes of things you’d heard before while you fired your phaser at imaginary foes. One echo however, was new, something you’d never heard said before. The familiar voice resonated within your thoughts, bringing you briefly back into reality.

“Pavel.” You mumbled upon feeling his arms wrap around you, raising you into the air; it felt vaguely like flying.

“Argh, you stupid, stupid… Hang on, McCoy vill fix zhis.” Chekov stressed frantically. He couldn’t believe his eyes, your skin was almost translucent, revealing the veins and arteries underneath.

“No.” You batted his chest lightly, barely a tap. “I’m fine… don’ need him.”

Chekov wasn’t listening, he was too busy trying to keep you steady as he ran the way to med-bay.

“Don wanna hurt ‘gain.” You argued bleakly through laboured breaths.

“He’ll make you better lyublyu (love).”

“…Docs ’re dangerous.”

“Not zhis one. I promise.”

Fresh waves of pain coursed through you, you writhed against Chekov who tightened his grip on you.

The only indication that you’d reached med-bay was McCoy’s exclamation of, “Good God man.”

“Doctor.” Chekov pleaded helplessly, so sure that he was going to lose the one person he truly loved aboard the Enterprise.

“On the bed.” McCoy ordered.

“Don’t leave.” You whimpered, using your little energy to grasp Chekov’s shirt.

“I’m here lyublyu (love), don’t vorry.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll make my work much easier.” McCoy grumbled sarcastically, hiding his concern for you behind a disdainful tone.

Shouted words turned to fuzzy mumblings and then to nothing as your body finally gave in, though whether to exhaustion or medication, you weren’t sure. McCoy did his best to stabilise you, all the while issuing orders to Kirk and Spock through his communicator; if he was going to save your life, you’d need a different kind of help.

After hours of work, pumping you with endless hypos and chemicals, your survival became a waiting game, relying purely on the success of Kirk and Spock. Chekov stopped murmuring comforting words to you for the first time since he’d brought you in. Fresh tears fell freely from his eyes as he gripped your hand and steeled himself for the question he’d been dreading since the start.

“Vill-” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Vill (s)he make it?”

McCoy sighed, lifting an uncomfortable hand to his face. “I don’t know.”

Although he’d been prepared for the answer, Chekov shuddered queasily. What he really wanted to hear was something along the lines of, “Yeah it looks bad now but it’ll be okay.” or, “(S)he’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.”

It was foolish to wish for a lie but that was all he wanted to believe. Hearing the truth was acknowledging the likelihood of your death and that was something he simply couldn’t bear. After hearing that, Chekov couldn’t bring himself to ask anything else so he settled for whispering all his plans for the two of you in the future, slipping naturally into Russian as a small comfort to himself.

You struggled to open your eyes, squinting against bright light that forced you to keep them shut for a minute. You didn’t think you had ever felt worse, every muscle ached like it did after intense training, your mouth held the after-taste of vomit, and you could feel extra pain where you knew several hypos had been used; on top of all that, there was a heavy weight on your thighs and you wondered briefly if you’d been paralysed. You fought against the light again, forcing your eyes open until they adjusted. If you’d had the energy to smile, you would have, Chekov was sat on a chair next to your bed, his head was resting on your legs and his usually neat hair was ruffled all over the place.

“Glad to see you’ve joined the land of the living.” Nurse Chapel beamed at you, bringing a large glass of water with a straw in it.

“H-”

Nurse Chapel help up a hand. “No talking. I expect you to drink that first and then you’re going to let me run some tests; when I’m done, you can talk, understand?”

You bobbed you head lightly, instantly regretting the headache it brought with it.

“Good. Glad we’ve come to an agreement.” She passed you the water, making sure you were taking steady sips before scanning your body and talking again. “You know, you’re lucky you got me instead of Doctor McCoy. He’s worked on you for almost 60 hours straight and let me tell you, he’s furious; still, underneath all that crabbiness lies a heart of gold, if he yells, it’s because he cares. Now tell me, do you remember what happened?”

Disjointed memories of your delirium came to you, the only true one being of the iguana-dog. You put down the now empty glass and cleared your throat, ready to test your voice. “Venom?” You croaked.

“Yes, venom that you foolishly tried to hide. Venom that we didn’t have a cure to.”

“How-”

“Spock and Kirk had to ‘liberate’ one of the creatures that did it from the Klingon camp so we could synthesize a cure; I imagine they’ll want words with you too.”

You cringed, the thought of a telling off wasn’t appealing, surely the venom had been enough of a punishment already.

“Don’t worry.” Chapel smiled. “They won’t get to my patient until you’re fully recovered.”

You silently prayed that wouldn’t be for a long time so you could put off the punishment. “What about the iguana-dog?”

“Iguana-dog? Oh, the Triffid that poisoned you?”

You raised an eyebrow at the name.

“Yes, that’s’ in the animal lab being examined, though it made quite the effort to get to you. Spock believes that the scent the other Triffid made the creature friendly towards you; it’s tried to attack everyone else on the ship you know.”

“I always did want a pet that could kill me.” You joked, lying back uncomfortably.

“Well you’ll have to talk to Kirk about that, for now rest, it’s been a long-”

Chekov stirred, mumbling a tired, “Lyublyu (love).”

Chapel sighed sympathetically, “I’ll give you two five minutes together, any more than that and I’m fetching McCoy.”

Chekov stared blearily after her before coming to his senses and turning his attention to you. “(Y/N)!” he grabbed hold of you enthusiastically, quickly letting go when you cried out in pain.

“Shit, do you need a doctor, vater, sleep, tell me and I’ll get help.” He hovered uneasily, clearly ready to run wherever you needed.

“It’s okay, jus’ need a little rest and I’ll be right as rain.”

Chekov stared wide-eyed, unsure of what to say next. He was past anger and elation; right now, he just wanted to care for you and make your recovery his number one priority.

“Thanks for staying with me.”

“Lyublyu (love), I’m never leaving.”

“Good luck with that, five minutes and Chapel gets McCoy to throw you out.”

“I’d like to see him try.”

You managed a weak laugh at Chekov’s bravado, he was swelling his chest out to look bigger. “Easy there Rambo, McCoy would wipe the floor with a toothpick like you. What’s say we leave the fighting to a pro like me?”

“Leave zhe fighting to you?” Chekov tutted. “Zhat’s vhat got us into zhis mess.”

“Alright, alright, then you think you can stay on guard duty while I sleep? Who knows what kind of experiments McCoy’s ready to try when I nod off.”

“He vould never.”

“Wanna bet? I hear he’s pretty pissed at me.”

“(Y/N) please, zhe whole ship is pretty pissed at you.”

“Oh yeah? What about you?”

“I’m zhe vorst of all, unfortunately I’m stupid enough to love you.”

You grinned and continued the conversation, quickly losing track of time. Nurse Chapel watched through the window in the adjacent room while McCoy complained at her about anything and everything he could think of concerning you. “-and on top of that Chekov’s still in there and I know he won’t (Y/N) leave to do his damned job; that’s distraction in the workplace.”

“Oh hush.” Chapel chided. “We both know you’re glad (s)he’s not alone.”

McCoy blustered. “No. I’d be glad if the idiot didn’t fear doctors, I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous in all my years.” He kept complaining while rifling through drawers, making himself look busy as Chapel listened; she shook her head and continued to observe you, letting McCoy get all his ranting out before he could get to you, though she feared you would still get an earful anyway.

#star trek imagine #imagine chekov #chekov imagine #star trek #reader #reader insert #fanfiction #chekov #chekov x reader #pavel chekov #pavel chekov x reader #an apple a day #Anonymous