Citadel Space

Independent MASS EFFECT TRILOGY RP sideblog. penned by molly ( 30+ , she/her ). located CET timezone. private & mutuals only for personal sanity sakes. headcanon heavy & partially canon-divergent. 18+ only due to NSFW themes like violence, war themes, and medical condition. est. 04/17/21 revamp 09/23/22

——————————- COLONY AT THE ASS-END OF TUMBLR

“I’d say you’re ridiculous and in need of better pick-up lines,” Kelly retorted immediately, playfully smacking Frank’s hands away. So fussy, this one! While she tucked the blanket around her form to her own satisfaction, Kelly shook her head at the suggestion. Mother hen.

“No, no need for that.” Dr. Michel, like nearly every physician on the Citadel, was likely busy with the influx of wounded soldiers and refugees, and ill Citadel residents. Kelly wasn’t going to have to call the woman out for a home visit for what might not be serious. “Not now, at least.” She’d wait, see how she felt after her nap, then let Mr. Fussy do as he wished.

Frank’s concern, a bit out of proportion for Kelly, reminded her of the plague on Omega only a year before–a far cry from the worst-case scenario she’d actually been thinking about. “Or,” she stressed with a small assuring smile, “it could just be a cold. A sneeze here, a sniffle there… Throw in a cough or two for variety–easily taken care of.”

"Let's hope you're right then." Frank got back on his feet after checking her forehead one last time. Was he really overprotective? Maybe. But he'd lost too much to not become skeptical when things had been going well for too long, even if it were just a cold in the end.

“Yeah, they’re quite noisy, aren’t they?” She asked in turn, gently bumping her shoulder against Gunny’s with a snicker.

Unfortunately, the noise was something they couldn’t get away from. The chaos had been stewing for weeks, and it was going to last for many more months, but that isn’t something she wants to reveal or even discuss with the kid. Not so soon anyway.

“You get used to it after a while, kinda like white noise.”

Humor immediately gave way to concern the moment she spied the hand venturing towards the cast. “Any pain? Or just itchiness?”

"Guess I'm lucky being able to turn off the noise, then." She tabbed the side that wasn't gifted with hearing aids, giving Felicia a brave little smile. Gunny tried to make fun of it to keep the memories of being unable to hear the nearing danger in time at bay.

HOME

“i wish i could say i am a light that never goes out, but i flicker from time to time.” // oh, little one, you have burned for so quietly for so long, haven’t you? burnt yourself out trying to give others light? wishing, desperately, that they would notice the way your hands shake or the wildflower bruises under your tired eyes. but they never have, have they? and so, it obviously wasn’t bad? right? you had more to give, didn’t you? how much could you pour yourself out before they noticed? it is all you’ve ever known, after all. help, help, help, help. (are you providing it, or begging for it?) but you’ve given too much, spread yourself too thin, didn’t you? you are so heavy, so tired. you have spent your life carrying for others the way you wished someone would care for you. but you’re worried, aren’t you? that if you can’t be what they need, if you can’t be the pillar for others to lean on, they’ll leave you. what you seek is home, a safe place to rest and be taken care of. and little light, you deserve it. you have earned it. you are worth more than what you can provide for others: you deserve the same care you so freely give out. they will love you all the same, honey. set down the world, and rest that weary heart of yours

tagged by: @azurebiotic

salt

ah little kraken, bold are you. restless sailor, dauntless fighter, lower your sword, let me see your shield. ah, of course, they are but the same object. oh wave-tossed ruffian, lend me some of your mettle would you? you have been struck by the sharpest of spears yet you still stand here proudly. but off your guard, elsewhere of the battlefield, you will find your spirit can parch others. your words are but weapons crafted from your soul. little lion, sheathe your claws, or the ones you love the most will suffer. you do not have to be strong all the time love, there’s nothing wrong with being soft. vulnerability is not weakness, and if it were, what’s wrong with that? strength is not always your greatest tool, your heart is good. put down excalibur, and use your words. you’ll find they will carry you much farther. not everything in life is a battle.

lavender

oh moon child, restless sleeper, tell me what it’s like to dream? you float along the margins of reality, picking up the pieces of fallen memories to sculpt into your own realm. you are searching, but your tongue is quiet, quiet, quiet. open your mouth and sing my dear, silence only does you good for so long. and here you planted roots in the darkness, where not even the moon can reach your leaves. there is such a thing as being too practical, for you sail your ship on perpetually calm waters, and never have you spotted land. your mind has wings, uncage them! allow yourself to dream, you are not too far gone. there is no such thing! trust in yourself dear.