Part 4 (non-con warning)
anonymous
June 5 2011, 08:30:13 UTC
She can hear Garrus yelling, fighting. Oh god, let them not hurt him. Let them focus on her. They can fuck her, they can cut her, they can take her limbs, her right arm from the elbow down and they will not have injured her as vitally as they will if they touch Garrus. What the fuck does she care for her new body, built of Cerberus money and desperation?
This is her last clear thought before she feels something startlingly hot and slick press into the cleft of her labia. She has no time to be startled. The Blue Suns lieutenant grabs her hips and yanks her back in the same instant he shoves the full length of his cock into her body. Shepard does not scream. She bites her lip until her mouth is full of blood again and thinks about the taste of Garrus’ tongue in that instant before she punctured hers on his teeth.
Another thrust, harder. The shape of turian is strange and he’s almost unbearably hot inside her. Whatever natural fluid he’s secreting, it heats the inside of her vagina in way that must be pleasurable in any other circumstance… or maybe that’s just her levo-amino based body reacting badly to dextro-amino DNA. This hurts. A lot. It’s not like getting shot. That kind of pain is more honest - this pain is sticky and gross and amorphous. She’s never had pain like this before. The feeling of the merc’s dick shoving and out of her aching cunt, the friction of him inside her, his armor pressing into her bare backside… this is the worst pain she’s ever had.
There is fluid running down the inside of her thighs. It must be him because she’s dry as a fucking fist. Part of her is, bleakly, distantly, grateful that turians have a natural lubricant but mostly she hates every labored breath of air this turian is taking as he rapes her. She will kill them. She will kill them all. She will come back and rip them apart. She thinks of Jack and suddenly understands and loves the woman better. She will make the rage of Subject Zero look like mercy. She will gut them, burst their ribs cages, pulp their skulls…
The turian pulls out suddenly. Shepard is sweating; her palms bleed where her nails have punched through the skin in halfmoons. She bites her tongue again when he pulls her ass cheeks apart and again swallows her scream when he shoves his dick up the impossible tightness of her backside. She claws the warehouse floor with one hand, fingers digging into stone as she refuses, refuses to scream. He fucks her in the ass. Her ears are roaring with the laughter of the other mercs. Her eyes clench shut. She will not scream. She refuses to scream. Her body is a weapon, augmented to take hell and this is nothing. This turian with his prick in her ass is nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Jesus fuck this really fucking hurts.
Garrus. She thinks of his voice, his laugh in the quiet after a battle and how he never questions her brutality. He never comments on her methods. He never judges her when she does what’s necessary but only, mildly, disapproves when he thinks she’s not being as gracious as she could. He makes her want to be a better woman… at least for a few minutes. She leaves the warehouse where her insides are being pounded raw and she can taste bile and smell the salty metal scent of turian arousal, thick and noxious.
She thinks instead of sitting on the floor of the captain’s cabin, Garrus seated across from her, watching her do a card trick like a man watching someone defuse a bomb. She palms the ace again and he swears. He missed it.
“How are you doing that?”
“I hustled when I was a kid. Best card shark on the block.”
“What’s a… card shark?”
She flicks a card so it boomerangs around and bounces off the dermal plating of his left cheekbone. The turian jerks, startled, and she loves that look of irritation and the way his eyes watch her fingers, like they are working a miracle -
Part 6 (non-con warning)
anonymous
June 5 2011, 08:38:17 UTC
Her eyes blur with tears, reactive and saline hot. Her skin is dripping sweat now, her body shaking and trembling now, her knees hurt, the inside of her pussy feels like someone put a fist up there and now there’s another turian behind her. He shoves her thighs apart, spreads the damp folds of her sex and shoves something into her that is not a penis and, goddamn him, she screams. Once. She stifles herself with her hand as the merc fucks her with what must be the barrel of a rifle. She tries, for some reason, to guess at the caliber of the weapon.
“Stop! Shepard! Leave her alone! STOP! You fucking cowards!” Garrus. God, please just keep talking. “I will fucking kill you! Every one of you! I will kill every Cerberus agent all of them just to come back here and slaughter you! I will kill all of you! Do you fucking hear me?!”
Jesus she loves him. Okay. No. That’s a bad thought to have while she’s being gangbanged within an inch of her sanity. Actually, fuck that. She can think whatever she wants right now to make this easier: Yes. She loves him. She loves his smart ass retorts. She loves the strange way he smells when she’s kneeling next to him in a fire fight. She loves that he doesn’t notice she’s trying breath his scent. Shepard imagines she’s somewhere else. She imagines, even though it’s a terrible idea, that she’s fucking Garrus Vakarian.
It doesn’t work. Her fantasy obliterates in the face of the pain - the two don’t go together. She can’t even pretend. She sucks air through her teeth as the gun is pulled free and replaced by another turian. He’s bigger than the first, or maybe he’s just coming at her from a bad angle. He grabs her by her knees and yanks her up against him like a rag doll he’s sticking his cock into, thrusting into her from a standing position while she tries not to get her face smashed into the floor. The mercs are howling with laughter, stripping their armor to take turns.
“What the fuck,” grunts the merc as he shoves himself deeper, “is with her pussy? It’s like sticking your dick in a shit pile. Are they supposed to be that wet?”
“You’re clearly not spoiled for your own species then,” laughs a human. “Let me go, you bastard. You’re not even enjoying it.”
He drops her with a noise of disgust, her bare skin slapping the floor as she hits it. Fuck. The human grabbing her shoves his fingers into her asshole. The pain is, again, extreme and leaves her shuddering. He puts his hands on her ass, in her pussy, sliding them around inside her like he’s fishing for a fucking prize or something and she hates him more than she hates the turians because at least those assholes had a vendetta. She feels betrayed for some reason which is stupid. But it’s there.
She doesn’t mean to but she says, “Garrus,” like you say, “God,” and one of the turians grips her hair and yanks her head back.
“What was that?”
“I said your prick is the size of a Volus peen.”
They slam her forehead into the concrete and it hurts. It knocks the world loose in her head. God. This really hurts. She’d really like this to stop. She’s no civilian but she really, really would like this to stop now. She could… she could fight back. It would cost her Garrus Vakarian, but she could stop them, rip them apart with Red Sand powered biotics. She clenches her eyes. No. They have a gun on him and while this is hell… she is not willing to give him up to make it stop. Shepard is not a self-sacrificing person. She is not saving him.
She just can’t let him go.
Then - like fucking God Himself has intervened - she hears the first gunshot. Something hot and wet sprays across her back and the human behind her collapses on top of her, his forehead a gaping red hole. The sound of gunfire sweet as song and she looks up to see her turian, her fucking archangel of fucking retribution, blow two men’s skulls apart in rapid succession. Someone must have dropped their guard and reliquished their gun for his use and, really, a second is all Vakarian needs to murder you cold. He comes at them so fast, so suicidally fast, they don’t move in time. He cuts a man’s throat open, uses him as a shield and kills his buddy with a head shot. Drops the body.
Part 7 fin (non-con warning)
anonymous
June 5 2011, 08:51:03 UTC
The mercs retreat but, oh, sweet providence, they forgot about her. Shepard lunges naked and bloody onto the nearest turian and rips his jaw off with a blast of raw biotics. She punches his face until the bone caves in, until she’s punching nothing but a smear of gristle and calcium and pulp into the concrete. She turns to see a man point a gun at her, but half his skull comes off as Garrus guns down everyone in the fucking room stupid enough to have taken their fucking armor off.
Garrus puts Harker’s combat knife through a man’s eye, twists it, and hurls it spinning into the lieutenant’s gut. He fires repeatedly into the faces of two downed mercs as he passes them on his way to the lieutenant - makes a mess of blood and bone. He’s a mess. He’s covered in blood - red and blue. He doesn’t make a fucking sound as he crosses the killing floor of the warehouse to put his boot down on the throat of the turian with the white face paint.
He bends down.
He rips the knife out of the merc’s gut and punches it back in. He stabs that turian over and over and over until the blade snaps off and then there’s nothing in the room but the silence and the smell of blood. There isn’t any left alive but them - just like he said. He’s breathing so hard he’s shaking. Garrus drops the knife handle. He lurches to his feet and, looking like he’s half drunk, half stunned, he turns to her and just… looks at her.
“Shepard?” His voice is ragged. “Spirits… fuck… Shepard? Please…”
“I’m okay,” she says, dazed. She gets off the bloody floor. Her feet are slick with blood, her legs her arms are sticky with it. Garrus moves toward her and cups her face, to look at her. She says, again, “I’m okay. They’re dead. I’m okay.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says feverishly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see the shot. I’m sorry. I fucked it up.”
“Stop apologizing,” she hisses, shaking him. “Don’t you fucking dare! Stop apologizing.” She hears the sob in her voice, treacherous, composed of razor wire. “You didn’t do this, so don’t you dare.”
She knows she shouldn’t, that it’s wrong, that it’s fucked up, that’s she’s fucked up, and he’s fucked up, but she fucking needs something so Shepard drags him down so she can kiss him again, one more stolen taste before she has to claim sanity and sobriety again. He goes tense again… but lets her have this. It’s not even a kiss. Turian’s don’t kiss. It’s awkward and weird, but he lets her do it until she calms down enough to let him go. (Even though, really, she can’t ever let him go.) Tomorrow, she will say it was the Red Sand. Tomorrow, she will sit through a psyche eval or drink herself stupid or kill something. Tomorrow, Garrus will be her friend again and she won’t be allowed to touch him for the purpose of her own cowardice.
Maybe that’s awful, but right now she gets to kiss him and tomorrow he’ll still be here, like her right arm from the elbow down is still there… so tomorrow, she will be whole again. Maybe, one day, she'll be brave too.
Re: Part 7 fin (non-con warning)
anonymous
June 5 2011, 12:44:04 UTC
Jesus Christ, Anon. That was possibly definitely the most brutal rapefic I've ever read. Seriously. Wow. The fact that it was brilliantly written only made it that much worse. I can't imagine anyone getting off to this, but somehow I doubt that's what you were going for.
In other words, congratulations! Any writer that can make this jaded anon feel physically ill is a good writer in my book. You should be proud of this story. Not even kidding.
Re: Part 7 fin (non-con warning)
anonymous
June 6 2011, 15:19:43 UTC
Wow. Just wow. Amazingly well written. Very real, very disturbing and rich in emotions - I couldn't tear myself away from the monitor till I finished reading.
Re: Part 7 fin (non-con warning)
anonymous
June 18 2011, 04:54:24 UTC
i wish that i had words. i wish that i could tell you what you just did to me, right there. there is something so fucking beautiful in what you just wrote, in all of that horror.
and you just fucking broke my heart.
this is. my gods. there are no words.
now I'm going to go read it again and hope that i don't have to stop in the middle to re-compose myself.
Re: Part 7 fin (non-con warning)
anonymous
January 29 2014, 04:51:13 UTC
So I know this comment is like 2 years too late, but is there any chance A!A planned on showing us the aftermath of all this. Because this was amazing. It was SO fucked up, and so raw, but beautifully written at the same time. The flow of Shepard's consciousness was just amazing.
I doubt A!A is still even around to read this, but I just had to say what a great story. And I truly would love to read the aftermath of all this. I really really would.
This is her last clear thought before she feels something startlingly hot and slick press into the cleft of her labia. She has no time to be startled. The Blue Suns lieutenant grabs her hips and yanks her back in the same instant he shoves the full length of his cock into her body. Shepard does not scream. She bites her lip until her mouth is full of blood again and thinks about the taste of Garrus’ tongue in that instant before she punctured hers on his teeth.
Another thrust, harder. The shape of turian is strange and he’s almost unbearably hot inside her. Whatever natural fluid he’s secreting, it heats the inside of her vagina in way that must be pleasurable in any other circumstance… or maybe that’s just her levo-amino based body reacting badly to dextro-amino DNA. This hurts. A lot. It’s not like getting shot. That kind of pain is more honest - this pain is sticky and gross and amorphous. She’s never had pain like this before. The feeling of the merc’s dick shoving and out of her aching cunt, the friction of him inside her, his armor pressing into her bare backside… this is the worst pain she’s ever had.
There is fluid running down the inside of her thighs. It must be him because she’s dry as a fucking fist. Part of her is, bleakly, distantly, grateful that turians have a natural lubricant but mostly she hates every labored breath of air this turian is taking as he rapes her. She will kill them. She will kill them all. She will come back and rip them apart. She thinks of Jack and suddenly understands and loves the woman better. She will make the rage of Subject Zero look like mercy. She will gut them, burst their ribs cages, pulp their skulls…
The turian pulls out suddenly. Shepard is sweating; her palms bleed where her nails have punched through the skin in halfmoons. She bites her tongue again when he pulls her ass cheeks apart and again swallows her scream when he shoves his dick up the impossible tightness of her backside. She claws the warehouse floor with one hand, fingers digging into stone as she refuses, refuses to scream. He fucks her in the ass. Her ears are roaring with the laughter of the other mercs. Her eyes clench shut. She will not scream. She refuses to scream. Her body is a weapon, augmented to take hell and this is nothing. This turian with his prick in her ass is nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Jesus fuck this really fucking hurts.
Garrus. She thinks of his voice, his laugh in the quiet after a battle and how he never questions her brutality. He never comments on her methods. He never judges her when she does what’s necessary but only, mildly, disapproves when he thinks she’s not being as gracious as she could. He makes her want to be a better woman… at least for a few minutes. She leaves the warehouse where her insides are being pounded raw and she can taste bile and smell the salty metal scent of turian arousal, thick and noxious.
She thinks instead of sitting on the floor of the captain’s cabin, Garrus seated across from her, watching her do a card trick like a man watching someone defuse a bomb. She palms the ace again and he swears. He missed it.
“How are you doing that?”
“I hustled when I was a kid. Best card shark on the block.”
“What’s a… card shark?”
She flicks a card so it boomerangs around and bounces off the dermal plating of his left cheekbone. The turian jerks, startled, and she loves that look of irritation and the way his eyes watch her fingers, like they are working a miracle -
“God! Ugh!” Fuck. She’s back in the warehouse.
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“Stop! Shepard! Leave her alone! STOP! You fucking cowards!” Garrus. God, please just keep talking. “I will fucking kill you! Every one of you! I will kill every Cerberus agent all of them just to come back here and slaughter you! I will kill all of you! Do you fucking hear me?!”
Jesus she loves him. Okay. No. That’s a bad thought to have while she’s being gangbanged within an inch of her sanity. Actually, fuck that. She can think whatever she wants right now to make this easier: Yes. She loves him. She loves his smart ass retorts. She loves the strange way he smells when she’s kneeling next to him in a fire fight. She loves that he doesn’t notice she’s trying breath his scent. Shepard imagines she’s somewhere else. She imagines, even though it’s a terrible idea, that she’s fucking Garrus Vakarian.
It doesn’t work. Her fantasy obliterates in the face of the pain - the two don’t go together. She can’t even pretend. She sucks air through her teeth as the gun is pulled free and replaced by another turian. He’s bigger than the first, or maybe he’s just coming at her from a bad angle. He grabs her by her knees and yanks her up against him like a rag doll he’s sticking his cock into, thrusting into her from a standing position while she tries not to get her face smashed into the floor. The mercs are howling with laughter, stripping their armor to take turns.
“What the fuck,” grunts the merc as he shoves himself deeper, “is with her pussy? It’s like sticking your dick in a shit pile. Are they supposed to be that wet?”
“You’re clearly not spoiled for your own species then,” laughs a human. “Let me go, you bastard. You’re not even enjoying it.”
He drops her with a noise of disgust, her bare skin slapping the floor as she hits it. Fuck. The human grabbing her shoves his fingers into her asshole. The pain is, again, extreme and leaves her shuddering. He puts his hands on her ass, in her pussy, sliding them around inside her like he’s fishing for a fucking prize or something and she hates him more than she hates the turians because at least those assholes had a vendetta. She feels betrayed for some reason which is stupid. But it’s there.
She doesn’t mean to but she says, “Garrus,” like you say, “God,” and one of the turians grips her hair and yanks her head back.
“What was that?”
“I said your prick is the size of a Volus peen.”
They slam her forehead into the concrete and it hurts. It knocks the world loose in her head. God. This really hurts. She’d really like this to stop. She’s no civilian but she really, really would like this to stop now. She could… she could fight back. It would cost her Garrus Vakarian, but she could stop them, rip them apart with Red Sand powered biotics. She clenches her eyes. No. They have a gun on him and while this is hell… she is not willing to give him up to make it stop. Shepard is not a self-sacrificing person. She is not saving him.
She just can’t let him go.
Then - like fucking God Himself has intervened - she hears the first gunshot. Something hot and wet sprays across her back and the human behind her collapses on top of her, his forehead a gaping red hole. The sound of gunfire sweet as song and she looks up to see her turian, her fucking archangel of fucking retribution, blow two men’s skulls apart in rapid succession. Someone must have dropped their guard and reliquished their gun for his use and, really, a second is all Vakarian needs to murder you cold. He comes at them so fast, so suicidally fast, they don’t move in time. He cuts a man’s throat open, uses him as a shield and kills his buddy with a head shot. Drops the body.
He keeps coming.
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Garrus puts Harker’s combat knife through a man’s eye, twists it, and hurls it spinning into the lieutenant’s gut. He fires repeatedly into the faces of two downed mercs as he passes them on his way to the lieutenant - makes a mess of blood and bone. He’s a mess. He’s covered in blood - red and blue. He doesn’t make a fucking sound as he crosses the killing floor of the warehouse to put his boot down on the throat of the turian with the white face paint.
He bends down.
He rips the knife out of the merc’s gut and punches it back in. He stabs that turian over and over and over until the blade snaps off and then there’s nothing in the room but the silence and the smell of blood. There isn’t any left alive but them - just like he said. He’s breathing so hard he’s shaking. Garrus drops the knife handle. He lurches to his feet and, looking like he’s half drunk, half stunned, he turns to her and just… looks at her.
“Shepard?” His voice is ragged. “Spirits… fuck… Shepard? Please…”
“I’m okay,” she says, dazed. She gets off the bloody floor. Her feet are slick with blood, her legs her arms are sticky with it. Garrus moves toward her and cups her face, to look at her. She says, again, “I’m okay. They’re dead. I’m okay.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says feverishly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see the shot. I’m sorry. I fucked it up.”
“Stop apologizing,” she hisses, shaking him. “Don’t you fucking dare! Stop apologizing.” She hears the sob in her voice, treacherous, composed of razor wire. “You didn’t do this, so don’t you dare.”
She knows she shouldn’t, that it’s wrong, that it’s fucked up, that’s she’s fucked up, and he’s fucked up, but she fucking needs something so Shepard drags him down so she can kiss him again, one more stolen taste before she has to claim sanity and sobriety again. He goes tense again… but lets her have this. It’s not even a kiss. Turian’s don’t kiss. It’s awkward and weird, but he lets her do it until she calms down enough to let him go. (Even though, really, she can’t ever let him go.) Tomorrow, she will say it was the Red Sand. Tomorrow, she will sit through a psyche eval or drink herself stupid or kill something. Tomorrow, Garrus will be her friend again and she won’t be allowed to touch him for the purpose of her own cowardice.
Maybe that’s awful, but right now she gets to kiss him and tomorrow he’ll still be here, like her right arm from the elbow down is still there… so tomorrow, she will be whole again.
Maybe, one day, she'll be brave too.
fin
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Damn. Reading that is like eating candy floss mixed with ground glass.
I'm literally crying over here. I don't do that often.
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In other words, congratulations! Any writer that can make this jaded anon feel physically ill is a good writer in my book. You should be proud of this story. Not even kidding.
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Really.
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and you just fucking broke my heart.
this is. my gods. there are no words.
now I'm going to go read it again and hope that i don't have to stop in the middle to re-compose myself.
fuck...
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I doubt A!A is still even around to read this, but I just had to say what a great story. And I truly would love to read the aftermath of all this. I really really would.
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