#garrus on palaven always breaks my heart
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lilmissnatcat24 · 9 months ago
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i'll break my own heart, thanks
[SYSTEM UI]: Garrus Vakarian, your message you recorded twelve hours ago is slated to be sent now. If you wish to edit or delete your message, press (x). If you do not act in ten minutes, the message will be sent. Read your transcripted voice message here: 
Hey mom, hey dad. Uh, I know you’re probably sleeping right now. Time zones and all. Don’t worry about me. I, uh… I don’t know if you’ve been keeping up with what’s been happening over here for me. The news and all. I don’t know if it’s even reaching Palaven. They may want to censor it. Anyways, it’s bad. And it’s about to get a lot worse, I think. I made some friends, we think we can stop it. It’s… it’s actually a pretty funny group. We have an Alliance Captain and a Commander. We have an asari scientist, an expert on the Protheans. And dad, remember Urdnot Wrex? He’s here, too. Which I know may not inspire heaps of confidence, but that’s not the point. I might be going dark for a while. If you don’t hear from me, I, uh, wanted to tell you two… that I… I mean to say… Ugh, nevermind. I’m not going to do that. You already know that, don’t you? I wanted to tell you something else. You’ll like this, mom. I met someone. And I think I love her. I mean, I know I love her. She’s been here since the beginning of this whole mess. And she’s C-Sec, big Alliance hero. You’d like that, dad. At least, if you don’t mind the fact that she’s human. I don’t think you should, you always said you thought humans were a funny species… Anyways, we got tickets to come home. I want you to meet her. And I want to spend time with you, all of you, as a family. Tell Sol to drop by, and bring whatever fool she’s dating this week. I want to do a big dinner, like what we did when dad would get his annual leave. Of course, we need to figure out how to cook levo foods, but that’s beside the point-- [unintelligible] What? Okay, I’ll be right there. Anyways, I need to go. I know this got a little winded, but I wanted to say… thanks. I’ll see you guys soon. Hopefully. 
[SYSTEM UI]: You have marked the message for deletion. It will be in your Trash folder for the next thirty days. 
[SYSTEM UI]: Welcome to your Trash folder! All messages in here will be-- 
[SYSTEM UI]: You have marked all for deletion. If you wish to undo-- 
[SYSTEM UI]: Welcome to your Settings! For help with-- 
[SYSTEM UI]: You have deleted your Messages App. To view the backups of your files, please-- 
[SYSTEM UI]: Careful, there! Excess temperatures may slow the performance of your Nexus Omni-tool-- 
[SYSTEM UI]: For the safety of your device and your skin, your Nexus Omni-tool will now shut off. 
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dispatchwithlove · 2 years ago
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Chapter Sneak Peek  👀
Well, it’s taking me a bit longer than I’d like to get the next chapter of The Boy posted, so I thought I’d throw up a little sneak peek. Hope you enjoy 😊 Chapter 10: Sensory Gratification
The thought of taking Jane to Palaven put warmth in Garrus’s heart. He thought of riding there on a shuttle together, taking her out in a skycar to see the countryside, taking her to his family’s villa. 
“You’ll be fine in a little protective gear,” he told her. “And the courtyards and gardens at the country house have shielding, so you can walk around out there as much as you’d like.” 
Trip already half planned in his head, he added, “You’ll have to watch out for my cousin’s baby, though, he’s running around now, and at the nibbly stage.”
She laughed, and held up her hand, a human gesture of promise. “I’ll be sure to wear thick socks at all times.”
“Better make it thick leather boots.” 
Jane laughed, then her eyes landed on his mouth. “How sharp are your teeth?”
“Sharp enough to break skin.”
“Okay, but so are mine.”
“Sure, but my teeth would leave more of a mark on your skin, than your teeth on mine.”
Watching his mouth, she played at the center of her throat with her fingertips. “Not sure if that’s a warning, or you’re offering a good time.”
A sudden, large trill wedged in his throat. Any sort of reply was impossible, because words lodged just beneath the trill. She was in a very strange mood, had been all day, actually, considering how she acted at the range.  
Jane's eyes shot to the top of his head. “Can I touch your fringe?”
“My fringe?”
“You always touch my hair.” Her soft features took on a sharp angle of curiosity.  
“Sure,” he agreed, because that was a truth he couldn't deny. The idea that she’d want to touch him in a similar way never crossed his mind, though, maybe because he knew where his urge to get his hands on her came from, and it wasn’t friendly curiosity.  
She didn’t take it as an agreement, though, she took it as permission. She scooted even closer, until her thigh pressed to his, tucked her legs up under her for a boost, and her hands landed on the very top of his head, her little groping fingers sailing over the smooth planes. The trill in his throat broke free, surfacing as a too-deep ripple that made her smile. He cleared his throat, and smiled too, thankful that the ripple sounded somewhat normal, and not the whorey thunder that he expected.
As her steady fingers dipped in the ridges in between each plane he followed every single freckle across her nose and cheeks, from one golden fleck to the next. He anchored his hands to his thighs to keep from running his fingertip over them, just to know what they felt like. He guessed they’d burn against his skin, like stars.
“This… is more like running my fingers over your scalp,” he said.
“Mm.”
Her eyes looped over his mouth, his nose, his eyes, his fringe, his eyes again. Following their path left him reeling. Had she ever been so close?
“I only touch the...tips of your hair.”
She sat up on her knees and her hands shot to the tips of his fringe, her face pressing in even closer. The greens of her eyes more vibrant, the curve of her cheek softer, her eyelashes flicking with each blink and a murmuring purr started in his chest; there was no stopping it.
“Is it more sensitive here?”
“Well, no.”
Her eyes connected to his and he swore there were shooting stars in her green irises. It wasn’t the spot that felt so good, every soft touch of a finger to any arch or groove of his fringe seared him in a way he’d never experienced before. Maybe because it had been so long since he’d been touched, maybe because all that time in sensory isolation, he’d been imagining what this would feel like. Her skin. On his body.
Her smile turned sly. “Would you like to run your hands over my scalp?”
Spirits yes. He dug his hand into his thigh so he wouldn’t. In a vid once, a turian gripped his lover’s hair, strands bound in his knotted fist. Despite trying very hard to forget, that image had burned into the most feral part of Garrus’s brain.
“Does this feel good?” Jane asked. 
“Terrible,” he said on a hot breath, and she giggled.
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ramblinganthropologist · 1 month ago
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N7 24 28 - Expression
Summary: Alistair and Garrus are having a bad night. Luckily, they can fix that together.
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 Darkness… pressure. He couldn’t breathe… everything was so cold. It felt like his armor was crushing into him… there was a leak in his air. He could see it, he-
Alistair launched up in bed, sweat pouring down his face as his chest heaved. Wide-eyed, he glanced around, half expecting to see the debris left over from the Normandy being destroyed by the Collectors. But there was no rubble, no broken ship. Instead, he was surrounded by whole walls and Saren’s enclosure off to the side.
His hamster was staring at him like he had two heads.
“Shit… it was just a dream…” He shook his head as he got out of bed, padding over to check on Saren. The little guy was taking a break from his nightly 5 mile run to get a drink of water – his little paw was still on the bottle. Apparently, someone had gotten distracted by their owner.
Sorry, little guy.
He smiled as he opened the enclosure and reached out his hand. Saren slowly approached, cautious as always. Thanks to the work they had done, he was no longer bite first, ask questions later. However, he was still Omega born and bred, so he wasn’t big on cuddling. Still, he climbed into the waiting hand and didn’t try to bite his fingers.
“Hey, buddy.” Alistair carefully pulled him out, bringing him over to the couch. “Having a good night?”
He gently patted the hamster’s head, thumb rubbing against his soft white fur. Saren accepted the touch without complaint, which was miles better than he had been in the past. Maybe he was just maturing, or the handling time was working after all. Either way, he wasn’t leaving bite marks, so it was a victory.
Victories were in short supply lately.
“I’m just glad I was able to get you from Kelly once we got to the Citadel.” He sighed, looking down at the hamster in his hands. While he had been on house arrest on Earth, his niece had been taking care of Saren. His sister hadn’t been too happy about that, but she had agreed if only to do one small kindness for him. At least their cat hadn’t been interested – Spectre wasn’t a hamster lover. “I missed you, little guy.”
Part of him envied the hamster. The only things Saren worried about was if he had enough seeds in his food mix and if his tunnel was going to collapse on him. He didn’t have to worry about the Reapers and what they meant for the galaxy. Hell, he wasn’t even on the list of things the Reapers would go after thanks to the fact his people hadn’t achieved space transit.
Hamsters in space… there was a thought.
“Be glad you’re not sapient, Saren.” Alistair shook his head. “It’s not great out here.”
Great was the understatement of the millennium. Earth was literally on fire, Palaven wasn’t much better, and the Council weren’t helping. By the skin of his teeth, he had managed to get the turian Councilor to help – but now he was involved with something with the krogan. All he wanted were some allies against the Reapers, and now he was stuck fixing ancient problems.
That was the nice thing about the end of the world – it brought people together to ask shit out of him.
“I guess I better put you back before I get too into my own head and drop you.” He sighed as he stood, cupping both hands around his hamster. “The last thing either of us needs is for you to get stuck somewhere I can’t get you.”
One of his recurring nightmares from house arrest was having to save Saren from the engineering floor of the Normandy. He still remembered trying to chase after his hamster, only to miss him as he hid behind boxes. The dreams never ended well – something always fell on him, or he bit a wire. One time he just faded out of existence altogether just as Alistair was about to grab him. He always woke up with an aching heart and dry mouth.
Weird how he’d take those now over Reaper dreams or the even worse Reaper reality.
Soon, Saren was back in his enclosure. He went back to his wheel almost immediately and was soon spinning around in his eternal quest to get in needed run. When it came down to it, he was a creature of routine.
Hooray for silent wheels.
Alistair still felt awake, however. He sighed as he glanced over at his desk. No doubt there were plenty of emails waiting for him from God knows where. Logically, he knew he was off duty – they could wait. But that good old Catholic guilt was kicking in, saying he should get to them when he had the time and lack of activity.
Luckily for him, someone knocked at the door.
“Huh?”
Confused, Alistair made his way to the door and watched as it slid open to reveal a turian. Garrus looked rather uncomfortable for some reason as he stood there, stiff as a board. As soon as they locked eyes, that got… not much better.
“Sh-“ He shook his head. “Sorry. Al.”
He was still getting used to the first name basis thing – so was Alistair for that matter.
“Hey, Garrus.” He smiled slightly. “What’s up? Did you just finish duty?”
The turian nodded. “Yeah, I… guess I wasn’t thinking where I was going after I ate. I can go back down if you’re busy…”
He trailed off, and it was in that moment that Alistair remembered he had been in bed prior to this. Thanks to that, he was only wearing a pair of boxers Bo had gotten him as a joke once they had gotten out of house arrest. Apparently, they made N7 underwear, much to her amusement when she had handed them over.
In his defense… they were comfortable?
His cheeks colored as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh… I was sleeping?”
“I figured.” Garrus’ mandibles twitched slightly. “Nice to see you with a shirt off, though.”
Most people would’ve taken that as something sexual – it would’ve been fair, considering they were dating and had indeed slept with each other. However, Alistair knew what he meant as he glanced down. Even in the low light of his room, the scars from his top surgery were still clearly visible.
Out of all his scars, they were his favorite.
“I got into the habit during house arrest.” He chuckled softly as he moved to the side to let Garrus into the room. “Should probably break that habit in case anyone else has to come find me when I’m sleeping.”
And now he had a whole new nightmare – standing in front of Admiral Hackett in the com room in his underwear. The last thing his commanding officer needed to know was that he preferred boxers over briefs, among other things. No, theirs was a strictly professional affair as they fought to keep the end of the universe from happening.
The turian stopped by Saren’s enclosure as he entered the room. “Hey there, Saren. Good to see you. Did you have fun with Kelly?”
“He sure did. He’s going to have to get used to being back on a military ship.” Alistair chuckled softly as he grabbed his hoodie and pulled it on. At least he had a top and a bottom on now – and the matched. That was more coordinated than any of his outfits had ever been outside of uniforms and armor.
Garrus put a talon to the glass, watching the hamster run in his wheel. “I hope Spectre didn’t give him much of a problem. Cats were bred to hunt rodents, right?”
Oh, had someone been reading up on earth animals? Alistair blinked back surprise at that. Sure, he had sone some research on Palaven when he’d had nothing better to do on house arrest, but that was him. His… boyfriend… had been busy trying to convince the turians about the Reapers. When had he found the time?
Not that he was complaining. It was kinda cute.
“They were, which is why Kelly kept him out of her reach.” He paused. “But apparently Spectre isn’t much of a hunter. She just ignored him.”
The turian shook his head. “Your legs and face when you got back from her house last year say otherwise.”
“I guess she has a taste for human blood.”
The room went silent after that. Honestly, Alistair was still unsure as to why Garrus was even there. It wasn’t like they had a standing arrangement for this kind of thing – they met when they could, but at the end of the day they ran separate schedules. That sort of thing was normal, or at least he assumed it was.
So… why the sudden visit?
In the end, it was the turian who broke first in the silence. His shoulders sagged, and his mandibles twitched. In a span of a few moments, he looked like he aged a century. Exhausted wasn’t even close to cutting it in that moment; they needed a whole new dictionary term for what he was feeling.
“Garrus?” Alistair cocked an eyebrow. “Everything ok?”
In response, Garrus shook his head. “Not really. It’s just….”
Their eyes met. “I guess I just needed to be near you right now to keep from going insane.”
Exhaustion, fear, anxiety – these and a thousand more expressions, mingled with turian ones he didn’t know the words for, melded together on his boyfriend’s face into a whole new gaze that would never have a name. He looked desperate in that moment, needing something to hold onto that wasn’t going to blow up in his face.
So, Alistair reached out to take his hand.
“I know…” He sighed. “It’s so…”
He couldn’t even begin to find the words to describe it all. His homeworld and countless others were burning. He had gone from house arrest to stepping over Alliance corpses in a frantic bid to get to the Normandy in time. The Citadel was eerily calm, and everywhere else was going to hell in a poorly made handbasket. And there they were, drifting in FTL space towards Tuchanka in the hopes of getting both the krogans and turians to play ball.
“Even with everything I did, it wasn’t enough for Palaven.” Garrus’ voice trembled as the translator struggled to keep up. “It didn’t feel real looking at it from Menae, like it was all some bad dream.”
He carefully led the turian over to his bed where they both sat down. It was probably for the best, given the fact he had felt him trembling through their connection. Alistair felt the same way as he sat there, visions of Vancouver playing behind his eyes when he closed them.
“It all happened so fast. One minute everything’s normal, the next thing I know everyone accusing me of being a traitor is dead.” His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “And despite the fact the Reapers are literally at our door, nobody seems to be doing anything about it.”
No, they’d rather argue politics or dig their heads in the sand. Alistair had practically shouted himself hoarse trying to convince the Alliance about the dangers coming to them, right until it had arrived at their front door. Maybe he should’ve been satisfied in being proven right, but there was no comfort among the corpses in that chamber back on Earth.
And the same thing was happening again and again. It was like trying to stop a truck with a feather. Their only hope was a mystery device left to them by the Protheans that nobody except a handful of people wanted to work on until they did favors for them.
It was… ridiculous, frankly. He would’ve laughed but it was just too bleak.
“And somehow I have to convince the krogans to play nice.” He laughed without a sense of humor – it sounded like gun fire. “I have pull with Wrex, but not that much.”
Garrus squeezed his hand in return. “Victus is asking for a lot, I know. If anyone can do it, it’s you and Bo.”
“But that’s just one species. Everyone else is hiding on their home planet or giving me shit about how I’m doing things.” Alistair sighed, closing his eyes, and leaning into his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Babe, I’m just one man. They’re asking a lot out of me.”
The pet name, still new, felt odd on his lips. Given the circumstance, it sounded even odder. At least Garrus didn’t seem to mind – he just offered his shoulder and a comforting touch. He needed both badly at the moment.
“They are… but they’ve got the best man for the job.” The hard part that made up Garrus’ mouth brushed against his cheek. Turians weren’t known for kissing – they didn’t really have the lips for it. Still, he was trying, and that was enough. “You tend to make the impossible happen, Al. Nobody else could’ve gotten us through the Omega 4 relay alive.”
Alistair chuckled softly as he shook his head. “Technically, Joker did most of the work. I just pointed the galaxy map and shot at stuff.”
“Your therapist is right, you’re terrible at giving yourself credit.” Garrus squeezed his hand. “You keep this up, and I’m going to tell Dr. Hunter on you. Then you’ll have even more therapy homework to worry about.”
The fiend. Maybe he should’ve left him on Omega a year ago.
“You’re the worst, you know that?” And yet he found himself smiling. “I will admit, she is happy about you. Something about getting over my intimacy issues and fear of rejection being a huge breakthrough?”
She had certainly been happy to hear he had managed to admit his feelings to the turian. Wait until Dr. Hunter found out he’d started having sex… was that going to get him a gold star in therapy, something everyone obviously wanted and desired?
“Happy to help you there.” Garrus’ voice was soft – his translator was starting to stutter again. “I guess I better get going, you look ready to head back to sleep…”
And then he yawned. It was interesting, watching a turian yawn. The gesture was similar, but so different that he found himself staring. It was the sort of thing he could get used to seeing if they lived long enough to make it to their first anniversary. Of course, they’d have to beat the Reapers first.
Alistair’s body worked before his brain could as Garrus started to get up. His hand shot out, catching the turian by the wrist. Their eyes met again briefly, and he felt his face begin to heat as he tried to think of a justification.
None came, so his face just got hotter.
“Al? Is something wrong?”
He shook his head. “No, just…”
Alistair took a breath. “Why uh… why don’t you stay here tonight? I think we’ll both sleep better that way given the headspace we’re in.”
It was perhaps the boldest he had ever been in his entire life. Maybe that was why Garrus’ mandibles full on flapped as he took the request in. If turians could blush, he would’ve been doing it no doubt. But at least he stopped moving for the door.
“It’s going to be awkward tomorrow when people see me coming down.” He glanced towards the door. “You sure you can handle that?”
Yeah… it probably would be. But, frankly, he needed this. The thought of going back to bed on his own was too much for him. He would no doubt walk straight back into another nightmare or a bad memory, and right then he needed neither.
Besides… he missed him during the day.
“That’s the nice thing about being the CO, nobody can say shit to my face about it.” He chuckled softly. “I mean, Victus could say something if he wanted to do it. Pretty sure he’s wise to us.”
That made Garrus’ mandibles flap again. “He’s… aware. Being around non-turians so much made me kind of lazy when it came to worrying about what people could pick up. Let’s just say I’m about a subtle as a neon sign on Omega to my people.”
Oh… great. He had forgotten all about turian subvocals. And here he thought he had been subtle around the Primarch.
“Nice going, babe.” Alistair’s cheeks heated up as he shook is head. “Well, at least he hasn’t said anything about it yet.”
He probably wouldn’t, knowing what he knew about turian culture. As long as people did their jobs and didn’t embarrass themselves, nobody really minded what they did. Since Garrus was definitely doing his job and then some… no complaints there. Still, it was kind of embarrassing knowing the equivalent of the president of all turians was aware of them. It be like Admiral Hackett catching them making out or something.
Great, there was another nightmare he had to worry about…
At least he wouldn’t be alone for that nightmare now. Instead, Alistair got to watch as his boyfriend got ready for bed. Before long, they were both under a shared blanket, settling in for what would hopefully be a peaceful sleep.
“Let me know if you’re uncomfortable, babe. I can move around.”
Not much – somehow, he had wound up the little spoon in the equation. It wasn’t bad, though, being pressed up against Garrus’ front with the turian’s arms wrapped around him, talons carefully tucked in. He could feel his mandibles against the back of his neck as his breathing leveled out. It was… nice.
He could get used to this.
“I’m good, really.” Another yawn, and whatever he said came out in a squawk rather than a translation. The sentiment was there – probably a good night or something like that, so the words didn’t really matter.
Alistair felt his eyes begin to close again as he settled in for some rest, feeling the turian’s heartbeat against his naked back. Garrus’ heart was a different tempo than his own, but it was strangely soothing as he began to drift off, kind of like an off-beat hummingbird vibrating through solid metal. No doubt there was a better comparison, but as his brain slowed he wasn’t finding it.
Instead, he allowed himself to return to sleep, worries leaving him for a short moment. When he awoke, they would come back full force with others he had no doubt forgotten or hadn’t even thought of yet. But that was for tomorrow him.
Right then, he was good.
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fromathelastoveritaserum · 5 years ago
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The Self Care Tag Game
Tagged by @strafethesesinners​ , Thank you! I haven’t done this yet ٩(⁎❛ᴗ❛⁎)۶
Favorite comfort food: Kraft Mac’n’cheese! With chopped up lil’smokies and a hint of sriracha sauce :9
Favorite drink: Dr. Pepper 
Favorite relaxing activity: Playing video games (Far Cry 5 at the moment) and writing fanfiction during my study breaks :3
Favorite fluffy/feel good fic: While I enjoy fics with a good dose of fluff and good feels, I also like heapfuls of angst, humor, action, with a dash smut where the romance was cooked slowly and lovingly! My faves that I highly recommend can be found on AO3:
Fallout New Vegas (Benny/Female Courier) “Heaven Can Wait” by moon_crater
Fallout New Vegas (Female Courier/Joshua Graham) “The path is always there” by snaildetective
Far Cry 5 (Jacob Seed/Female Deputy) “Come a little closer” by lowtides
Fire Emblem: Awakening AU (Female My Unit-Avatar/Sort-Stahl) “Unbreakable Glass Heart” by averageghost
Mass Effect Milky Way AU (Garrus/Female Shepard)  “Son of Palaven, Daughter of Earth” by miceenscene
Mass Effect AU (Garrus/Female Shepard) “Fibonacci” (Revamped) by squiggly_squid
Mass Effect Milky Way AU (Nihlus /Female Shepard - with Saren Father) “Sins of the Father” by MsWikit 
Mass Effect Milky Way (Original human female/original male turian) “Five Weeks On” by chockymousse
Mass Effect Milky Way (Original human female/original male turian) “In Bloom” by Wafflesrock
Mass Effect Andromeda (Jaal/Sara Ryder) “The problem with flirting” by Steinbjoern
Pokemon Sword & Shield (Raihan/Gloria) “Into the Wild” by writingnerd
Favorite calming scent: Soft lavender 
Favorite white noise: The gentle pitter patter of rain
Favorite relaxing (or uplifting) song: Oh boy, right now my ‘crush that exam anthem’ playlist includes: Doja Cat - ‘Say So’ and The Weeknd - ‘Starboy’,�� ‘Can't Feel My Face’, ‘Blinding Lights’, ‘In Your Eyes’, and ‘Secrets’.
Favorite book to get lost in: Sabriel by Garth Nix and The Harry Potter series
Favorite TV show to chill-out: Community, Arrested Development, The Simpsons, Futurama, Disenchantment, and Eddie Izzard’s recorded stand ups.
The best advice you’ve ever had: Remembering that ->"This too, shall pass...”  ಥ_ಥ It applies to everything in life...
I’m tagging the following, but please only do if you would like to (no pressure!), plus anyone else who would like to join in on the fun! @rpgwarrior4824, @bitterestel, @squigglysquidd, @anavakarian, @angaranprincess
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crassussativum · 5 years ago
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Mass Effect Asks Masterlist- Mav
(Originally posted by thenerdcommander, credit where credit is due.)
1. What would their recruitment mission look like? ((Mav’s got a mind for tactical skirmishes and fighting with the reapers and subsequent indoctrinated has been an exercise in gorilla warfare. He’s made his way to Palaven and Menae to be of what help he can. Maybe he even already works directly with Garrus there. When Shepard arrives there and after they find the Primarch, he tags along.))
2. Would they be a romance option?  If so, who would the option be available to and what would their romance look like?  Would there be any special scenes? ((Mav is an equal opportunist in the art of romance. Male or female Shepard, it doesn’t matter. He flirts a little, teases some. Then straight out says he’s been serious the whole time and why not, right? Special scene would probably involve him talking Shepard on a date. Like dinner and dancing date.))
3. If there is one, what would their sex scene look like?  How would the scene change if Shepard or Ryder turned the sex down? ((Mav surprises Shepard in their cabin. He’s probably not wearing all that much, y’know. If Shepard’s into it, cool, if not, he puts his clothes back on and hey no big deal, you down for a drink, Shep?))
4. If left unromanced, do they hook up with another character?  If so, who is it?  Is it a canon character or another OC? ((More than likely and probably another OC though I couldn’t rightfully say who.))
5. Would they be available as a fling option?  What would that scene look like? ((Also probably and idk, something sexy.))
6. Is there any way Shepard or Ryder could get them to turn on them or betray them?  How?  Is there any way to get them to back down once the betrayal is triggered?  ((The only way that I could think of would be if Shepard were to ask/order Mav to do something he considers evil. Such as unnecessary loss of innocent life, civilians in the cross fire. Shepard wouldn’t do that. BUT if Shep did, there’d be no talking Mav down after.))
7. What would their loyalty mission look like?  ((It would break your fucking heart. During the Reaper War, Mav gets word from Carthaan, his homeworld. His family needs him. Shepard, of course, goes with to help. When they arrive on Carthaan, there is nothing but ruin, they’re too late to do anything. The crux of the loyalty mission lies in one action: Shepard can escort Mav to his family home to see for himself that there’s nothing left which will resort in his loyalty. Or Shepard tells him there’s no point, lack of survivors is obvious, at which point Mav goes off on his own and doesn’t return.))
8. Is there any way to lose their loyalty after it’s earned? How? ((Mav’s a little sensitive when it comes to familial bonds. He’d want Shepard to extend anyone the same courtesy that he got with his loyalty mission. He gets the need for closure, he’d want the rest of the crew taken care of.))
9. What would their relationship with Renegade Shepard look like?  Paragon Shepard?  If they’re from Andromeda, what’s their relationship with Ryder (pick any two alignments)? ((Mav’s easy going. He understands grey areas. Sometimes you’ve gotta do things the wrong way to make sure the right thing happens. Him and a Renegade Shepard would get on like a house fire. But at the same time, he knows when not to cross a line. Better things would happen with a Paragon Shepard.))
10. What phrase(s) would they shout during combat? ((Mav’s...er, a well educated man in profanity. Let’s leave it at that.))
11. Any squadmates they don’t particularly get along with? ((Um... I’m gonna say probably James. At least not at first, but eventually they get on fine.))
12. Are there any instances where rivalries between them and another squadmate could potentially jeopardize their loyalty or views of Shepard or Ryder? (Nah,)
13. Which squadmates are they likely to make friends with? ((Damn near everyone. He’s easy going, like I said, he makes friends pretty easily.))
14. In which game would they be introduced to the franchise?  ME1?  ME2?  ME3?  Andromeda? ((I think he’s always been kinda in the background, but ME3)
15. Would they make multiple appearances throughout the games or are they limited to one installment?  If they reappear, do they remain as a squadmate or do they become an NPC? (Squadmate in ME3, kicking around elsewhere.))
16. Which skills are available to them?  If they’re from the OT, pick four active powers and one unique passive class power (ex: Turian Agent, Asari Commando, Turian Smuggler, etc).  If they’re from Andromeda, pick three active powers and two passive (one of which should be a unique class power). ((Mav’s my Infiltrator! He’s got a Tactical Cloak, some Disruptor Amo, Incinerate on standby, and sticky grenades for kicks!))
17. Write a quick exchange of banter between them and one other squadmate of your choice. (( I can’t think of actual words bc I suck at banter, but I can totally see Mav teasing James about his fighting style on the mats. And that tiny turians are fast turians and he fucking told James he’d floor him in no time.))
18. What weapons would they use?  Pick 1 minimum, maximum of 2 firearms, 1 melee weapon, and/or 1 special or unique weapon. ((M-6 Carnifex, M-27 Scimitar- for his oh shit weapon- a knife he carries in his sleeve for close combat, and when shit hits the fan... He’s got a Cobra Missile Launcher))
19. Name one thing that players would remember them most by (ex: Garrus’ calibrations, “Lola”, Mordin’s singing, etc). ((The way he looks and sounds. Mav’s a small turian, standing at only 5′7″, his eyes are bright orange and so are his markings. And he’s got a good ol’ boy southern accent.))
20. If they’re from the OT, what ways could they be killed on Virmire, during the Suicide Mission, or the events of ME3 (pick one)?  If they’re from Andromeda, are there any ways they could die?  If so, how and how could Ryder prevent it if prevention is possible at all? ((Well, if Shepard doesn’t escort him in his loyalty mission, he presumably dies on Carthaan searching for his family.))
21. Can they be Indoctrinated or Exalted?  If so, what would they be like?  What options would Shepard or Ryder have to handle the situation?  Would there have been options to prevent it? ((No.))
22. How would they react to other squadmates, Shepard, or Ryder being Indoctrinated or Exalted? ((....He’d put them out of their misery.))
23. When on the Tempest or Normandy, where do they like to stay?  Do they roam around?  What about on the Citadel or Nexus? (Mav, a Blackwatch assassin by trade, would chill with Thane. To share notes, let’s say, or to talk philosophy. On the Citadel, there’s a few places he might hang at, a bar, the embassies, shops. He’d wander., ME3, he’d be at the docks.)
24. Do they have an opinion on the way Shepard drives the Mako?  Or how Ryder drives the Nomad? ((Nah, it’s not like Mav drives any better.)
25. Are they vocal about their opinions of the Council or Nexus Leadership?  If so, what is their opinion?  Do they make a passing comment to another squadmate or do they say it to Shepard or Ryder directly? ((He’s not, not really. He might say something nasty if he gets frustrated with the run around of the whole thing, but that’s it.))
26. What decisions could Shepard or Ryder make that they greatly disapprove of? ((Ok so....Siding with the geth. Sentient AI is a dangerous thing and will always be a dangerous thing and aren’t the Reapers literally proving that right now?))
27. What decisions could Shepard or Ryder make that they greatly approve of? ((Shepard doing everything they can to undue/fix what was done with the Genephage.))
28. Would they have any special scenes or dialogue in the Citadel DLC or for Movie Night? (Nah, he’s busy trying to drink Wrex and Grunt under the table. Mav loves his Horosk and that’s not too different from Ryncol))
29. Would they have any special scenes or dialogue in the final battle against the Reapers or the Archon? ((Just a moment to thank Shepard for doing all they could, a little pep-talk, a little let’s go fuck their shit up.))
30. How would they react to meeting Shepard’s clone?  Or Ryder’s twin? ((Mav would find the whole thing funny as fuck. He’s pretty sure he’s seen this B movie.))
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paxveraque · 6 years ago
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Holiday Harbinger 2019:  Let Old Ghosts Rest
Hi @theuselesspotoo!  I’m your Holiday Harbinger!  I know I am delinquent in my delivery of this harvesting (I am a bad Reaper and for that I am sorry), but I hope that you enjoy!  I had quite a bit of fun with this.  I’ve never had the opportunity to write any Javik before. Thank you @masseffectholidaycheer​ for organizing!
The Normandy unsettles Javik. It is not simply the friction of this unrecognizable time, or even the folly of allowing an artificial intelligence aboard. No, the ship itself thrums with the energy of those that have come before. It floods him with their memories, no matter how often he washes his hands. Their camaraderie. Their sacrifice. Their pain.
It is all too familiar, and yet, nothing is.  
He confines himself to a room that surges with a cacophony of unyielding war drums, surging pride, and trumpets of sour rage. He does not know the krogan who sang this sordid tune, but it is a variation on the only song Javik has ever known.  
Maybe that is why he rarely questions how easy it is to adjust to this cycle. The primitives have evolved and brought with them unfamiliar and unintelligible customs, but his purpose remains the same. He is the Avatar of Vengeance: the anger of a dead race that refused to be silenced. As long as he is fighting, he is home.
The human Commander seems to understand this purpose, and so Javik stays aboard. The rest of the crew give him a wide berth. All but the asari, that is.  
At first, he thinks he might grow to like her. She is dedicated to the cause and a powerful biotic. She understands much about his cycle, and she tries to make him feel comfortable.  
But she asks many questions, and his answers always seem to disappoint her. She talks about his civilization, as if he has ever known anything but war. She asks about his culture, as if he has ever had a chance to appreciate it. She calls him heartless, as if his heart could have been shaped any other way. It is almost as if she wants him to be someone other than he is, even if only for a moment.
It shows how little she understands.  
There is no winning this war. Not for the Protheans. There is only the trumpeting rage, the final overture of a trillion ghosts demanding their tribute be paid in blood.    
To pause, even for a moment, means their extinction.  
*
Thessia.
Liara hoped she woud never live to see another planet burn. Earth was enough. Palaven was two too many. But Thessia—
She promised them they would be safe. She encouraged asari commandos to rescue human colonies, to help Shepard and the war effort. She spread her resources, her intelligence, too thin.  
She left Thessia vulnerable. She let Thessia burn.  
It is all too much to process. The loss. The guilt. She deserves to be chastised, but the Normandy’s crew offers her only pity.  And before she knows it, she is standing before the one person she knows will not offer her sympathy. The one crew member who will not shy away from reprimanding her naivete. Javik will not mince words. He never has.  
She enters his room brimming with barely leashed biotic energy. She has never wanted to pick a fight before, but here she is, directing her rage toward a man she knows to be incapable of empathy. She is mere seconds from throwing the first punch when he speaks. It totally disarms her.
“Despair is the enemy’s greatest weapon. Do not let them wield it, Liara T’Soni.”  
The biotic subfield that surrounds her subsides. He touches her shoulder, and for the briefest, most impossible of moments, she sees beyond the Avatar of Vengeance to Prothean underneath. Not the rage and ruthlessness, not the fury of a dying people, but the pain. The loss.  
She has asked hundreds of questions about his time and his culture, but she has never bothered to wonder about him. How many planets has Javik watched burn? How many friends has he buried? 
Her feet take her away before she processes what she is doing. Javik. Shepard. Garrus. They all carried on as their planets burned. They kept up the fight despite the odds. And so would she.  
*
Something changes after Thessia.  
The crew has warmed to him. They stop by his quarters and offer him food. They invite him to drinks. It is strange, but not unwelcome.
And the asar—Liara, he remembers—stops by more frequently. But the tenor of her questions has changed. No longer does she ask him to recall a Golden Age that he never experienced. Instead, she asks how Prothean armies waged strategic retreats. How they evacuated occupied planets. Whether they ever found a way to reverse indoctrination.  
They talk for hours, and still, her thirst for information is never sated. He teases that she too is exemplary of her cycle. An Avatar of Curiosity if ever he had met one.  
But he knows few others will put his information to better use. The answers to her questions save millions of lives. He admires her drive. He envies her empathy. Both, he eventually realizes, are invaluable skills in winning this war. 
Despite himself, he begins to look forward to her visits. Indeed, when her information brokering keeps her away, he even ventures to visit her. He learns that she enjoys warm soup, and that she sometimes needs to be told to take breaks, to rest, even though there is more to do.
During one lengthy visit, she asks about his family. His service history. She wonders whether he ever held a command. Whether his crew was anything like the Normandy. Whether he considered them friends. He talks about them with affection, but he realizes he can no longer remember their faces. Their smiles. The realization haunts him as they prepare for to return to the Commander’s home planet. 
The ghosts of his past drive his purpose. But what happens when that purpose is extinguished? What happens if they manage to do what the Protheans never could: to put an end to the Reapers? What then? Who would he be? How could he be?
He knows the memory shard could tell him of a time before the Reapers. A time when he may have been shaped differently than he was. But there is so much pain in those memories. So much he would have to revisit.
We have a saying, the Commander tells him. Let old ghosts rest.  
It is chillingly simple, but the wisdom rings true. His ghosts have demanded much of him over the last fifty-thousand years. They have driven his purpose, carried him forth into countless battles. But if it came to pass that this purpose was fulfilled-- perhaps they deserved to rest.  
Perhaps he deserves to no longer be haunted by them.  
*
“Dr. T’Soni.” The wrap at her door startles Liara from her work. The war may be over, but the relief effort has only begun.  
Earth has stabilized in the weeks since Shepard activated the crucible. With the relays back up, Liara has been able to coordinate shipments of dextro rations and emergency supplies to the armies that were stranded. Thessia and Palaven have started to rebuild.  
It will take many years, but it is a start.  
“Javik.” She smiles as he enters, not bothering to wonder at the tinge of relief she feels. He has made himself invaluable in the aftermath of the Reaper War. The supply runs are critical, but fraught with raiders. Thankfully, few are able to withstand the fury of a Prothean on a mission to see a galaxy reborn. Still, he is not invulnerable.  
His gaze fixes on her and she cannot help but note the concern in his voice when he adds, “You have not slept.”  
“There is always more to do. Thessia needs massive mineral shipments.  Palaven is nearly out of medical supplies. Armies across the galaxy need to refuel. There is a lot counting on me being awake.”
“Stubborn asari. You are less than useless to the galaxy if you do not take care of yourself.”  
“Says the Prothean who has jumped on every shuttle off of the Citadel since the moment he got medical clearance.”  
He tilts his head in response, as if to note the bitterness behind her words that she did not intend. “I have missed you too, Liara,” he teases. 
Heat rises to her cheeks. She glances away, pretending to busy herself with more work, in the hopes that he does not catch her flush. “I have been thinking about my next mission,” he continues. 
She takes a breath and glances at the screen to the far right. Another mission? She though perhaps he would stay a little longer this time. Hoped it, even. All the same-- “Well, I have a fuel caravan leaving tomorrow at sixteen hundred hours, and another leaving at twenty-three hundred hours. But they are already well guarded and—”
“Yes,” Javik stops her. “That is why I have been thinking.”  His gaze shifts to the floor, and he shuffles quietly, the very picture of uncertainty. “The Reapers are gone.  The raiders have largely been squashed. The supply caravans no longer need my biotic protection.” He takes a deep breath to steady himself. “And, if I am honest, I want to know who I am when I am not fighting. I want my legacy to be more than anger and death. I want—"
He looks up from under heavy lids and something flutters in Liara’s chest. 
“I want to stay here for a while. With you. If you will allow it.” 
The fluttering has become savage. “With me?” She hesitates, hoping her voice does not betray her nerves. 
*
He knows he is rambling. What he does not know, is why he has not stopped. Surely Liara would have answered by now if she understood what he was trying to say. “I mean, I know that you wanted to write that book. A Journey with Protheans. And I think there is a story to be told. The Golden Age of Protheans. How we helped this Cycle to victory, and—”
“Yes.” She says, after far too long.
His head lifts ever so slightly.
“Yes?” He lulls over the word as if it were a strange new discovery. And perhaps it is. There is so much promise in that simple sound. A chance at a different life, a different purpose. A chance at--  “Yes... to... the book?”  
She laughs, and the sound is sweeter than any he can remember. “Yes, you may stay. Yes, to the book. Yes, to all of it.” 
“Yes.” He says, this time barely a whisper. Dazed, he takes a seat at her side. Yes to all of it.
And before he has a chance to ask whether she understood the full import of his question, she embraces him. With it comes the flood of her biological imprint: a lilting, evocative melody, unlike any song Javik has ever heard. It is soft, it is fervent, and above all, it is right. Through it, he sees himself through her eyes: a gentler version of himself, one that is free to emerge from the burdens of his ghosts now that he has satisfied their tribute. Full of potential and light and hope. It floods him with a warmth he does not expect, and for the briefest of moments, he believes in the promise behind her yes.
“If you’re staying,” she asks, “will you handle things for me? You are right. I do need to sleep.” 
“Yes.” He answers. “Yes, to the monitors. Yes, to you needing to sleep.” 
Yes to all of it.
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starlightwrites · 7 years ago
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Garrus and Jack for the headcanon ask :)
Thanks for asking, @illusivesoul!
(Also: these are two of my FAVORITE Bioware characters. I know I have a lot of favorites, but these guys are like favorite-favorites, so I am excited to blather about my babes)
Garrus Vakarus
Headcanon A:  realistic
I have always had this headcanon that ME1 Garrus spent his first few nights aboard the Normandy watching human vids about first contact. He’d had training in contact with aliens as all Turian soldiers do, but he wanted to know how humans prepared. He didn’t realize that the Alliance has a specific training on this, so he just started watching movies like Alien, The Day the Earth Stood Still, and Star Wars. He was a little offended, but at least the humans didn’t really seem to have the same reactions the people in the vids did.
Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious
Garrus and Rae Shepard’s space-hamster, Wilbur, are best friends. Garrus carries the little guy around in his cowl while he’s calibrating or calculating or swearing at mechanical components. A lot of crew members think that Garrus just talks to himself while he’s thinking, but he’s actually talking to Wilbur (I mean, he is also talking to himself, but he is addressing Wilbur so it counts as a conversation). Wilbur has all of the inside information about the calculations Garrus does on the main guns, meaning that Garrus technically gave a hamster Alliance war intel. 
Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends
Oh boy. I have a lot of sad headcanons. The one I hold dearest, I guess, is that after Rae Shepard dies, he tries to take over checking in on her crew (this is actually the plot of “Moments Between”). He starts small and looks after the crew still aboard the crashed Normandy. It’s…tough. But stepping up gives him something actionable to do to make all this just a little bit better. Rae chose Synthesis, so once the ship is repaired and makes it off-world and to the stars, he starts the long process of tracking down every member of the extended Normandy family to talk to them personally while the Milky Way rebuilds itself. Some conversations are harder than others (Wrex tears up the first time they talk, which is just too much for both of them), but he does it. And he doesn’t stop.
He helps with the effort to rebuild Palaven and even lands pretty high-up on the meritocracy, but every couple of years or so he takes some time and hunts everyone down one by one–no matter where they’ve scattered to–to do the “Shepard” check-in. He sees Jacob’s family grow, watches Tali renovate her home on Rannoch half a million times, sits down to dinner with Grunt and his hoard of children, keeps an eye on Kolyat for Thane, makes fun of war documentaries about themselves with Joker and EDI, and gets drinks with Jack. He never misses a single crew member. They have e-mail chains to keep an eye on him and give each other the heads-up when he starts making the rounds. After his death, everyone still alive–old, bent, and after years of well-spent lives–comes together for the funeral. They celebrate both Garrus and Shepard, because you can’t have one without the other.
Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.
So I hold that this headcanon is VERY REALISTIC and makes the most sense, but Bioware technically failed us SOOOO. Garrus is bi. That is a statement. That comment about fringe? Bi. He just is. He has the same friends-to-bestfriends-to-lovers dynamic with M!Shep as he does with F!Shep and it is all very sweet because they are the #1 Battle Couple. I don’t make the rules.
Jack-attack
Headcanon A:  realistic
After surviving the Collector Base, Jack gets a string of small tattoos–one for each of her squad mates (even Miranda). That fight is a turning point for Jack. She and Shepard were close friends by the end of that fight, and she had never had a family like that. She couldn’t stand to say it out loud, but now she has all of these tiny symbols down the inside of her arm, stopping at her elbow. An N-7 Helmet, prayer hands, a pair of eyes cast in shadow, a Krogan warhammer,a sniper rifle, a justicar headband, a combat drone, a cigarette, a syringe, a shotgun, a flashlight, and a pin-up girl with cheerleader pompoms. On the side of her elbow and at the end of the chain of symbols is a tiny spaceship that is shaped suspiciously like the Normandy.
Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious
Jack once got in a fight in a tiny dive bar on Omega because someone had stolen her Jacqueline Nought’s poem and was reading it out loud during an open mic night. Things got ugly fast (she won so thoroughly she is no longer welcome back).
Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends
Jack lost a leg trying to save Rodriguez from a banshee. Rae Shepard made absolutely positive that Jack’s students were well behind the ranks and out of harms way, but there weren’t a lot of safe places for them to be and towards the end of the fighting. The Reaper forces broke Alliance ranks and it was chaos.After pulling Prangleyout from under a toppled building, she spotted Rodriguez off in the distance, swarmed by husks. Rodriguez didn’t notice the rogue Banshee coming up behind her. The damn things move so fast. Jack took off running to get close enough to at least biotically throw Rodriguez out of the way, but a Reaper beam touched down while she was running and she was so focused on saving her student that she didn’t get out of the way quick enough. The very edge of the beam caught her leg at about mid-thigh. That was enough to steal her focus, and the Banshee skewered Rodriguez before Jack could get to her. When Jack got a prosthetic leg, she got a small unicorn etched onto the knee to honor her lost student.
Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.
Jack falls in love with Miranda, after it all. They reconnect years after the apocalypse and get drinks on the newly renovated Citadel. Jack wasn’t even sure why she agreed to it in the first place, but when the two ran into each other, it just seemed like a good time to catch up. They really have a lot in common, something they realize a little belatedly and after a number of beers that would just astound. Ultimately, Cerberus used both of them, and that is something that brings them together at first. Then they made the connection that they both feel like they were creations born to serve as weapons, and they both feel a little bit guilty for surviving what they did.
They pick up chatting regularly, and meet up when they can. Jack’s latest class of baby biotics is convinced that their teacher has lost it since she softens up a lot after lunch break (when she vid-chats Miranda). Eventually, Miranda (who adopted a baby in my timeline) re-introduces her now teenage daughter to Jack, Mom’s old friend. It’s pretty much sealed after that. Their teenage daughter is never ever picked on in school because her two biotic moms could absolutely destroy anyone who dared.
Thank you for asking!
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agentkatie · 7 years ago
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A Study in Blue
The lovely @laelior brought my attention to this ridiculously beautiful art of Cullen in Alliance dress uniform, and… well, I got a little bit carried away, so this is for you! Full disclosure, I don’t know what the Hell this is. Maybe it’s another AU where Cullen ends up in Shepard’s universe? Maybe it’s to come later on in my current AU? Who cares; I just like writing these nerds. Happy holidays my dear!
1992 words, established relationship fluff that turns NSFW-ish, because the only correct response to seeing Cullen in dress blues is to try and jump him.
Cullen straightened his jacket one final time as he observed himself in the mirror, brushing an almost-imperceptible fleck of dust from his epaulette. It was strange, but the Alliance dress uniform sat far more comfortably on his shoulders than his Templar armour ever did. Even ceremonial Templar armour was designed for strength and protection, with little consideration for how its rivets and joints might bite into the skin; Alliance dress blues, on the other hand, were all about comfort, its soft fabric carefully tailored for relief on prolonged parades. The first time he’d worn it he’d felt exposed and vulnerable, its ornate decoration providing no security in this strange world of guns and biotics - but now, whilst they were at peace and happy, it felt right.
Besides; there was no greater protection than having Shepard next to him.
“Looking sharp, Commander.” A drawling voice interrupted his thoughts; he turned to find Shepard, in her own uniform, leaning against the bathroom doorway and regarding him with an appreciative grin. “I’m sorry - Admiral.”
He smirked at the teasing lilt of her voice on his new title, surprised that she didn’t accompany it with a mocking salute. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Commander?”
“Maybe a little,” she acknowledged as she closed the distance between them. “But you deserve it.”
“It is an honorary title,” he reminded her. “It means nothing; technically I’m not even in the Alliance. It should be yours.”
“Yes, it should,” she agreed, her lips quirking upwards into a playful smile as her arms circled his neck; his own hands came to settle on her hips, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of her trousers. “They made you an Admiral just for hanging out with me for a bit; I saved the universe and I’m still stuck at Lieutenant-Commander.”
“I provided invaluable support to the Alliance’s relief efforts,” he pointed out. “You bequeathed their best ship to a Krogan.”
“Grunt is our son. Be nicer to him.”
He chuckled, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss; he felt her smile into his mouth as she kissed him back, one hand leaving his neck to cup his face. “I am very proud of you,” she murmured against his lips, her thumb brushing back and forth over one stubbled cheek. “Even if it means I have to make small-talk with pointless dignitaries all night.”
“The evening is as much for you as it is for me. They’re presenting you with the Star of Terra.”
Shepard made a disgruntled in the back of her throat, as if the Alliance’s commendations’ were miles beneath her. “I’ll put it next to my Silver Dagger and Nova Cluster; I’ll have so many shiny things to polish after they’ve removed me from active duty.”
“Shepard—”
“Hackett confirmed it today,” she cut him off with a hand against his chest. “I’m getting promoted to a nice desk job here on the Citadel.”
Cullen sighed, one hand leaving her hip to rub the back of his neck. It wasn’t a surprise for either of them; Shepard - or rather, the Shepard the universe knew - was a woman of war, her singular strength of both body and character forged in blood and pain. But now the war was over; now those very characteristics, which had led the Alliance to burden her alone with saving them, had become… inconvenient. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “But… maybe being removed from active duty is not the worst thing in the world. We could fill our time with other things.”
“Such as?”
He hesitated, breaking from her embrace as he lost his nerve; he turned instead to face the mirror once more, giving himself a final scolding look as he forced from himself the words that had been on his tongue for far too long. “This apartment is rather large for two people.”
“Yeah, but Anderson gave it to me; I’d rather not downgrade if it’s not necessary.” He shook his head as she failed to grasp his meaning, watching her expression closely in the mirror as she slowly transitioned to understanding. “Oh. You want…”
“Only if you do.”
He turned back to her once more, observing her as her mind visibly scouted his suggestion, her face contorted into a look of extreme concentration. “Actual, non-Grunt children,” she said eventually, looking up at him with a furrowed brow. “I don’t know. Doesn’t it worry you?”
“Of course it does,” he admitted. “But we could do it. Together.”
For many years, children had been the very last thing on his mind; between the Templars and the Inquisition and his own personal demons his life had always seemed far too chaotic to bring a child into it. But the idea had crept up on him, laying roots in the back of his mind which had grown into a yearning as he’d watched Shepard interact with their friends’ children; as she’d wrestled with Wrex’s tiny Krogan horde, and told stories of the Normandy to Garrus and Tali’s daughter. And maybe he didn’t deserve to want it; maybe he was too broken to be a father, too damaged by his past to provide the foundations for a child’s future. But with Shepard as his partner, anything seemed possible.
“Being a parent…” she began, then trailed off, her eyes falling to the floor. “I’m just not sure. Is it that important to you?”
“It… would be nice. But all I need is you.”
She smiled at that, her fingers hesitantly reaching for him once more; he took her hands in his, placing a brief kiss to them as they lay encased in his grasp. “It’s not a definite no. Maybe… maybe we could travel for a bit first. Get our own ship. I’ve still not been to Palaven, and I want to show you Terra Nova. But one day… I don’t know.”
“Commanding our own ship does sound appealing,” he said, his fingers reaching for her waist once more - and then, because he couldn’t resist goading her even now, added, “naturally, as an Admiral I would be in charge.”
“Wha— go fuck yourself, Rutherford,” she flared up - completely predictably - at his attempt to pull rank. “I’ll just take Garrus if—”
He cut off her argument by pressing his lips against hers, and she made a weak noise of protest before yielding to him. He’d only intended it to be a brief kiss, but she clearly had other ideas; with a swipe of her tongue across his bottom lip she deepened the kiss, one hand winding into his hair and tugging gently in a way which never failed to send shivers down his spine. Yes, she knew him far too well, and each little action - the scrape of her nails on his scalp, the press of her body against his, the delightful little noises she made into his mouth - was a tactical ploy with only one purpose in mind. And, Void take her, they worked every time.
He had just enough sense left in him to break the kiss, though it did little to deter her; she moved instead to pepper little kisses along the line of his jaw, and he bit back a groan as she playfully nipped at his neck with her teeth. “Shepard…” he warned.
“What?”
“You know what,” he growled, meeting her expression of feigned innocence with a glare he hoped would dissuade her.
“I can’t help it,” she shrugged, absent-mindedly fiddling with the buttons of his jacket. “You’re very handsome in dress blues - especially with that brooding scowl of yours.” A huff of laughter involuntarily escaped his lips, and she grinned, both of them knowing in that instant that she’d won. As if there had ever been any hope for him. “Of course, anything’s better than that faux-fur monstrosity you insist on keeping.”
“You know full well it’s bearskin.”
“Yeah, well - it looks better on the floor of my cabin.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “Do you really think that line will work on me?”
She smiled, playfully swatting his shoulder with the back of her hand. “I meant as a bearskin rug. But now you mention it, we really should compare it with this,” she said, plucking at his buttons once more and pushing the fabric from his shoulders; he shook his head as his jacket fell to the floor, making one final half-hearted protest even as his grip on her tightened.
“Shepard, we’ll be late—”
“Not if we’re quick.”
“And the others are downstairs—”
“Then we’ll just have to be quiet too.”
“Maker preserve me. You are absolutely terrible.”
And with that he kissed her again, revelling in her surprised squeal as his hands moved to grasp her buttocks and hoist her from the ground. Her legs locked around his waist as he backed her into the wall, crushing the hard and perfect lines of her strong body against his, and this time it was his turn to toy with her; he planted open-mouthed kisses along her neck, the sweet smell of her perfume permeating his senses and leaving him love-drunk and heady, and when he reached her ear he took the lobe between his teeth and tugged. She hummed appreciatively, rocking her hips up against his, and it took every ounce of his remaining reserve not to rip down the fabric between them and thrust into her; instead he ground against her, with enough pressure only to stoke the aching need building in them both, and she let out a growl of frustration, her calves tightening around him in an effort to press their bodies closer together.
“Rutherford,” she murmured, a barely-controlled waver in her voice. “Stop teasing and fuck me already.”
“Is that an order, Commander? If I recall correctly, I outrank you now.”
“You are just—”
“Are you two al—spirits!” The unmistakable flanging of Garrus’s voice interrupted them, so unexpectedly that Cullen almost dropped Shepard; he caught her just in time, lowering her awkwardly to the ground before rubbing the back of his neck, and though he still found Turians difficult to read he was almost positive Garrus was smirking. “What’s that human expression? Keep it in your pants?”
“The human expression is fuck off, Garrus,” Shepard grumbled, straightening her jacket as Cullen picked up his own.
“Seems awfully specific. Our taxis are here - but we can go on ahead if you two aren’t finished.”
Cullen felt himself go red at the suggestive emphasis the Turian placed on his final word - which in a way was a blessing, for at least it diverted blood away from other areas. “No, we’ll come— uh, join - you,” he mumbled, quickly buttoning up his jacket and brushing it free of any fluff it might have accrued during its time on the floor.
“Suit yourself; you’ve got forty-five seconds,” Garrus shrugged before leaving them alone once more. “Vega - you were right!” they heard him yell as he stepped out onto the landing, and Cullen winced at the raucous laughter from downstairs at the exclamation. Shepard bit her lip, her eyes twinkling with laughter, and he turned away from her to inspect himself in the mirror once more; thankfully he wasn’t as dishevelled as he’d expected, his uniform largely free of creases and stray flecks.
“You’re fine,” Shepard reassured him, stepping forward to dust off the back of his jacket as he hastily smoothed down the few curls she’d teased out of place. “Very Admiral-y. Let’s get going.”
He nodded at his reflection one final time before turning to her. “After you,” he said, one hand extended towards the open door, but she shook her head and extended her own hand with an exaggerated bow.
“Oh, no - you first, Admiral. You’re in charge now, after all.”
He smirked, taking her hand in his as they left the room together. “My love; we both know I’ll never be in charge with you.”
(You can read more of Shepard and Cullen kicking ass and taking names over at AO3. Comments and reblogs sustain my life force!)
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kbstories · 7 years ago
Text
I tried my hand at some Mass Effect fic!
Summary: A mission confronts Shepard with his worst nightmare. Garrus and Wrex realize that even Shepard has his limits. (Chapter 1 of 2)
Set in Mass Effect 1 during the mission on Elodus. Warning for PTSD and one brief mention of past suicidal thoughts.
Read on AO3!
Shepard should have known.
The Mako's engine revved up as its wheels hit heavy silt, the rocky hills of Elodus giving way to the smooth desert-like expanse of a plateau, devoid of any living being and Shepard should have known.
He'd been listening to Garrus and Wrex bicker over their choice weaponry in the back, letting the now-familiar chatter on the com link wash over him as he focused on getting them to the structure on the distant horizon in one piece. Questionable driving skills aside, the Mako was still a handful to handle but he was getting better at it.
At least that's what Joker had assured him, with minimal smirking. Shepard'd take what he could get.
A dot on the radar marked their goal, blinking, getting steadily closer. Shepard kept glancing at it, trusting the device over the bland landscape around them, something about it setting his teeth on edge. There was no movement to be seen.
“– am I right, Shepard?”
“Oh now you're playing dirty.”
Shepard turned his head with a highly eloquent “Huh?” – judging by his squadmate's deadpan expressions, they'd both been counting on his opinion to win whatever argument they're having.
Wrex stepped forward, a grin tugging at his scarred face. “Just say biotics are superior. Nothing like bursting into battle head-first.”
Before Shepard could go beyond raising an eyebrow, Garrus shook his head sharply, clicking his tongue. “And get yourself killed, you mean? Be my guest – I can shoot well enough for the two of us.”
“See, that's the problem with you Turians. Always relying on tech to get the job done.”
Wrex laughed, Garrus bristled, Shepard prepared himself to interrupt–
And the Mako went flying, ripped off the ground as if it weighed nothing at all. Warning lights flashed, equipment shook loose, clanking, metal on metal – all the air in Shepard's lungs left him in a rush of gravity and vertigo; the belts keeping him in his seat dug into him hard enough to bruise but that was the furthest thing on his mind as they came down with a heavy crunch.
Finally the pressure on his chest lessened, a weak “Fuck” making it past Shepard's lips as the world settled around him, upside-down. Trembling hands searched and found the clasp holding everything together and once it was gone, he spilled on the roof like a box of tools turned on its head.
“Garrus!”, he coughed, picking himself up, straining his eyes to see in the sudden darkness around him. “Wrex!”
Someone groaned to his right, “Present. You alive, Krogan?”, and further away: “'m here. I thought you're getting better at this shit, Shepard.”
Ignoring the jab, Shepard's first instinct was to hail the Normandy. Static. Figures. Only local access, then. He readjusted the fit of his helmet before following the nearby wall with glove-covered hands until he hit the door, then started pushing against it. It didn't budge. Behind him: shuffling steps and the distinct sound of a new magazine sliding into place.
Garrus huffed. “Looks like we'll get to test that theory of yours sooner rather than later.”
The ground rumbled, swallowing Wrex's answering quip and shaking the downed Mako enough that Shepard practically felt every bone in his body rattle with it – and a dawning realization made his pulse spike, blood running cold with the instant panic rising within him.
Because he recognized this feeling. It's the same that haunted him in his dreams, the same that had announced the beginning of the end all those years ago.
Shepard should have known.
Power gathered at the palm of his hands and before Shepard could think about it, the door exploded with a blast of biotic energy. “Move!”, he yelled over his shoulder, barely waiting long enough for his squad to make it outside; Shepard turned and threw up a shield just in time to hold off the worst of the debris bursting around them.
“What is that?”, he heard Garrus growl, saw him and Wrex pointing their guns at the phantom hidden in sand and dust out of the corner of his eye–
Shepard didn't need to look. He reached out, grabbed and jerked Garrus' rifle down, “We gotta get out of here”, he said hoarsely, darkness dancing at the edge of his vision, drained from his biotics or fear or both yet adrenaline still sang in his blood, kept him going.
There's no time to check the look in Garrus' eyes, the flash of confusion and indignation enough for Shepard to know retreat was the last thought on the Turian's mind, no time for careful strategy, for second-guessing.
“We have to run”, Shepard repeated, louder over Wrex's angry “What?!” – and Garrus yielded, just as a high-pitched shriek pierced the very air around them–
And for the first time since Akuze, Shepard stares into the opened jaws of a Thresher Maw.
It all goes to hell faster than Garrus can blink.
Suddenly, they're running. Garrus is dimly aware of the insistant tug of Shepard's hand clamped around his arm, of the blurred blue of biotic shields building and falling around them, of Shepard's strained pants over the com link. Wrex is only a few paces behind them, a mass of reds and browns and seething rage, cursing under his breath so colorfully Garrus' translator chip simply gives up.
Their boots sink into loose sand with every step, burning the energy they could put into standing their ground and fighting instead. Garrus chances a glance at Shepard, wishing he could see his face beyond his helmet but the glimpse he gets makes his gut drop.
Whatever that thing is: It made Shepard, vanguard fighting machine Shepard, bail instantly. That alone makes the soldier in Garrus swallow his doubts and follow his lead.
It seems to have the opposite effect on Wrex. They bypass a formation of jagged rocks – perfect for cover, Garrus can't help but think sullenly – and the Krogan's patience snaps. “What the hell, Shepard?!”, he bellows, breaking a path through the sand like it's the front line of a hostile army. Shepard says nothing.
A few paces are spent in silence, alerting Garrus to the sudden lull around them; looking back, he sees the worm... creature is gone, the horizon once again plain, unassuming dust. Garrus feels Shepard's grip on him tighten. He noticed it too.
“Not yet”, he hears him mumble, almost to himself, “not yet.”
Then the very desert under their feet trembles, shifts, breaks apart–
“Wrex, shields!”
–and Shepard's words start making a lot more sense. Even with two people fueling it, the biotic field around them shudders visibly, flickering out after a second or two – enough to get them out of the immediate blast zone, if just so.
Gaze turned skywards, Garrus's heart almost stops as the creature towers over them. He's never seen anything like it on Palaven. Does it even have eyes? All he can make out is it's huge jaws, gaping and empty and dripping with–
Garrus acts on pure instinct. Diving for his squadmates, he tackles Shepard to the ground and makes Wrex stumble, too; a spurt of clear liquid flies over their heads, close enough that a few droplets land on Garrus' back.
He doesn't pay attention to the burning sensation running up his spine, doesn't stop to worry about the dazed way Shepard's crawling back on his feet – Garrus grabs his Commander, throws him over his shoulder and runs, trusting Wrex to follow.
No matter his previous grievances with Krogans: they can take more hits than anyone in a brawl. Even if that brawl includes a hundred-foot monster in the middle of the desert.
The enraged screeches of it only spur Garrus on. He can feel Shepard struggle in his tight grip, hissing at him to “calm down, Commander” as respectfully as he can; “there”, Shepard snaps back, gloved hand pointing past Garrus' head to the left where the slopes of a mountain range meet sand.
“The mountains, huh?”, he hears Wrex's gruff voice behind them. “Keep going, I'll keep that acid shit off of you!”
Protest is halfway out Garrus' mouth yet it's Shepard who goes ballistic, biotics running hot enough that Garrus can feel it through his armor.
“No! Wrex–“
Wrex bares his teeth, “Shepard”, full of warning.
“Do not engage. That's an order!”
A glob of acid splashes on the ground. Garrus side-steps it in the last moment. “Can we save our asses first and then talk about details?”
“Just trust me”, Shepard growls. Wrex doesn't reply.
They don't stop until their boots hit rock.
Shepard slides off Garrus' shoulder the moment they do, all kinds of dizzy and disoriented, waving away Garrus' attempts to steady him. What he needs right now is solid ground under his feet and some space to think.
His hands are trembling.
The panic he's been holding back since the Mako is a tight coil in his chest, slowly spreading out. Not yet. He can feel the others' eyes on him, painfully aware how weak he must seem to them: This is not the Commander Shepard we know, he can almost hear them think.
The memory of his therapist is blurry, one vague face among many by now but he still remembers her calming tone of voice. Breathe. Shepard does. Forces his back straight, balls his hands to fists.
His amp port is numb with pain. He'll deal with that later.
“Shepard.”
He closes his eyes in the privacy of his helmet. “Wrex”, he sighs, turns around to face him.
Wrex looks like he's doing some holding back of his own, cracking his neck, shifting weight, crossing his arms. “Care to explain?”, is what he comes up with, jaws tight.
Shepard rarely sees him so... fidgety. It's clear he's furious – having to back down from a fight does that to a Krogan – yet Wrex listened to his orders when it counted the most, and Shepard knows he owes him for that.
So he nods, “Yeah”, calls Garrus' over from his silent watch over the horizon. A sudden chill runs down Shepard's back as he's reminded why that might be necessary. Threshers rarely hunt outside their territory, however, and Shepard counts on that fact now just as he did during their rushed escape.
They make themselves comfortable on a nearby slab of rock; Shepard sits down heavily while Wrex paces. Garrus stands to his right, a steady presence in the corner of his vision. He's tinkering with something – his com link, Shepard recognizes with a quick glance.
No more distractions. His squad deserves to know the truth.
“Six years ago I lead my first mission for the Alliance.”
His words are hesitant, and Shepard hates himself for it, hates the fact that what should've been a cornerstone of his career is the reason he can't wear the title of Commander with pride. He stares ahead and sees the arid planes of Akuze, hears the hushed conversations of his marines around him.
“We'd lost contact to one of our colonies and my unit was sent to investigate. Found the settlement empty, colonists gone yet no bodies, no sign of violence... So I told 'em to set up camp in the dunes. No point in searching at night, right?”
A mirthless chuckle catches in Shepard's throat. Wrex's gaze is on him. Shepard holds it for a long moment.
“That's when those things attacked. Woke up to complete chaos around me, made it out in time to see them just... tearing the camp apart.” Wringing his hands, the dry noise of plating on fabric distracts Shepard from the memories that bubble up like bile. He looks down, swallows heavily around the lump in his throat.
“The smell, the– the screaming, I'll never forget it. Went through a unit of fifty marines like it's nothin' and we didn't even know what hit us. Never encountered Thresher Maws before so we didn't know about the acid and, well.”
Others might've been forgotten but Shepard remembers every name, every face of the squad that set foot on Akuze with him. Writing the condolence letters had taken weeks. It was the only way to honor them for their sacrifice.
Shepard exhales slowly.
“Turns out they don't follow you forever. Dragged myself to the LZ and got the hell out of there... I was the only one who made it back.”
Wrex has stopped pacing and even Garrus is motionless. There's more he could tell them: of the months and years he spent wishing he'd died with them, how much he hated it to be hailed as a hero for his biggest failure.
In the end, Shepard settles for: “Doesn't matter if we could've taken that thing on. I won't let it happen again.”
Then he falls silent, out of words to say. The silence stretches on, lingers – follows them persistent as a shadow as they board the Normandy hours later. Shepard goes through his post-mission duties on autopilot: skips the med bay by pointing Dr. Chakwas towards Garrus, writes up his report, takes heat from the Alliance brass for losing the Mako. The three migrane pills he's dry-swallowed knock him out eventually.
Hours later he gasps awake with the afterimage of melting flesh and torn limbs burned into his eyes. He spends the rest of the night puking his guts out, the bathroom door firmly locked behind him.
To be continued
[AO3 Link]
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kfawkes · 7 years ago
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One-word prompt for Shakarian, if you could: Oath :)
[Hi! This is a VVVVVV old one, lol. I apologize. A lot of these old one word prompts I was sent I was having a hard time with ;.; BUUUUT I will get through them eventually
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When you worked in C-Sec it was easy to forget who the good guys were sometimes… The Citadel itself was more corrupt than anyone wanted to admit, and that extends to the Council. Part of Garrus always knew this of course, but when he started following his father footsteps his young optimistic heart always thought he could change it. 
That he could make things better– that he could be better. But he just ended up the same as the rest of them, didn’t he? 
Most days Garrus knew he wasn’t like any of those crooked politicians or officers. He had tried his best to be the opposite of those people, but there were some days where he couldn’t see which way was up… Some days when the lines blurred and he didn’t know if he was a good guy making bad choices, or a bad one just trying to make the right one.
Days like today he wasn’t so sure which one he was…
When he had to make the tough decisions and do ruthless calculus… dwindling whole groups of civilization into simple equations. And no matter how many different ways he tried to solve it, there never seemed to be a right answer. 
No matter how hard he searched for it, he never knew what was right– even then.
But at least with Shepard around things had been a little easier to manage… With her around, he felt more in control. Like he didn’t have to second guess every choice he made. Garrus had her to ground him, and vice versa. They had each other and they could do anything together, couldn’t they?
Of course they could… But just cause they would make it, didn’t make things easy. No, things were the opposite of easy. It was no secret what this war was doing to everyone, especially Shepard. She was strong but even Jane had a point of breaking. And sometimes on those late night missions or those sleepless nights he would see first hand just how much it effected her. 
Shepard may have carried herself well all things considered, but anyone that knew her could tell that she was cracking. That it took everything in her to hold it together, and as much as Garrus hated to watch it; he had to. Because there was nothing he could do but be patient and hope this war didn’t kill the person he loved. 
There wasn’t much that anyone could do because this war wasn’t stopping. 
It wasn’t getting any easier and it was either going to wipe out all life as they knew it, or they would stop them– somehow. But even with all of the support of the galaxy; things didn’t look great and no amount of math could change that. 
Numbers could sway people. But Reapers weren’t people. They were machines and they were ruthless and they would never stop until they’d done their job…
“What’s wrong?” Shepard asked pulling Garrus from his thoughts. 
His mandibles had been held tightly to his worn face, and Shepard could tell something was wrong just by looking at that brow plate. “And don’t you lie to me, mister.”
“I would never.” He purred back softly as he walk towards her from her cabin desk. 
Garrus was supposed to be working on a plan for Palaven this whole time… but all he could think about was what he might lose if they didn’t win this. That and all the ways he messed up over the years. How he’d gone from a vigilante to a being an expert on Reapers was beyond him, but here he was.
Having to make decisions and learn to live with the consequences.
“So… what is it then?” She asked placing her arms around his cowl lightly, the smile she offered was both sweet and honest, but also pained and lined almost anxiously. 
“If you want the truth, Shepard… I’m worried.” Garrus confessed as his mandibles lightened a fraction.
“Welcome to the club. I’ll be your tour guide this evening… Over here we have night terrors, and this way we have crippling PTSD…” Jane replied with a laugh as she purse her lips as lightly as possible. 
The moments she had with Garrus shouldn’t be filled with discussions like this one. Or her shitty jokes for that matter… They should be happy, and enjoying what little time they probably had left together– but she had a hard time being serious. Because serious was all she felt she was anymore… Serious and destined for failure.
“Those aren’t the best selling points, Shepard. But I did hear the president was pretty sexy…” He insinuated pulling her closer at the hips, breathing in lungfuls of lavender with eyes closed; trying to soak every moment of this in. To remember it all, even her depressing banter.
“Maybe when she’s actually sleeping like a normal person… Right now? She sorta looks like a sick varren.” With another laugh she kissed him, then pulled away as she began removing her over shirt and pants lazily.
“About that…”
“Oh, here we go…” This was a conversation she thought was coming for awhile now, but dreaded actually discussing. 
But it was her own fault for setting herself up, wasn’t it? Jane knew she looked terrible, that she hadn’t been eating or sleeping nearly as often as she should be. If anyone knew, it was her. What she also knew was that Garrus wanted to talk about it because he loved her. Because it hurt him to see her dwindling away to nothing…
“You can’t keep working like this, Shepard. You need to come up for air sometimes… There are people who need you healthy and alive. I need you.” Garrus stepped closer, his mandibles pulled tightly but his facial plates were held in disarray. “And you can’t help anyone if you work yourself to death.”
“I’m trying, Garrus… I really am. It’s just– hard. There’s just so much left to do and I…” She paused pulling her lip between her teeth as she run a hand through her hair absently on her exhale. “I’m afraid it won’t be enough. That it will never be enough… That we’ll never really be ready for this.”
He took a deep breath before stepping closer to her, placing a taloned hand to her chin pressing his mouth to her forehead softly. “That doesn’t sound like my girl. My girl can do anything and she doesn’t let a few enemies knock her down– no matter their size.” He paused to wipe a tear that began running from her eye before continuing. “You can do this, Jane. We can do this.”
“Do you promise?” Jane whispered softly with eyes tightly closed, unable to hold her tears in any longer. 
“Cross my heart.” Garrus ended in a quiet purr atop her head as he pulled her into a warm embrace. 
Garrus wasn’t sure if he believed what he said, because there was no way he could really know what might happen… but one thing he did know was that they only stood a chance together. 
And something told him deep in his stomach this was a promise he’d never be breaking.
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devoraakss · 7 years ago
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Aftermath Part 1
(Inspired by a prompt given by @ofcoffeeandunhealthyobsessions: imagine some dorky Garrus cooking sheps favorite meal but fucking it all up??? I dunno I just finished the third game and I need some fluff. the second part will feature the cooking but I was rly inspired! so its going to be longer than most prompts I do!)
"Eyyo Lola—er, Councilor! "   Shepard lifted her gaze from the data pad, lifting her gaze to James as he walked through the doors to her office. "Please, James. You're my friend, no need to switch to the formalities just because I have a new job."   James came to stand at her desk, fidgeting awkwardly. "Yeah, okay counci- Lola."   "what did you need Vega?" Shepard stood from her desk, bracing her hand on the desk as a sharp pain shot through her leg, phantom pains and a dull ache from the synthetic limb. James immediately offered his hand, which she took. He helped her steady herself, giving him a grateful smile.   "Thanks James." She sighed, stretching out the cramping prosthetic leg with a pained hiss. Her friend shook his head, looking irritated. "It ain't right, Lola. The council should let you rest before giving you all this work." Shepard shrugged and pat his shoulder reassuringly.   "Yeah, well. A hero's work is never done, as they say." Letting herself stand on her own, she walked over to the large window overlooking the rebuilding Citadel.   After the war, the citadel was... almost beyond repair. Once the Mass Relays were repaired, the reconstruction on the citadel had begun. It was... eerie being on the space station once more. Knowing all that happened here... Javik and Liara worked with the Prothean VI to get the basics of the station on blueprints, and while most of the residential buildings and such were destroyed, within the first few months over half the citadel was back to normal.   Shepard was in charge of overseeing the reconstruction efforts on earth, coordinating heavily with the quarians and the geth to get the proper technology, and even enlisting the help of the Krogan for the heavy lifting. Athena Shepard had not had a day off in weeks. The closest thing to a vacation she had after the war was when she was in a coma for three weeks, not as Athena Shepard but as Jane Doe. If Jack hadn't given her that damn tattoo... she didn't like thinking about it.   "Hey, Lola, you there?"   Athena was shaken from her thoughts, her gaze refocusing on her friend. "Yeah, yeah, I'm... I'm good." She sighed heavily, running a hand over her face. "just tired."   "How long has it been since you've slept?" He questioned, leaning against her desk. Shepard shook her head, staring at the bustle of activity out the window; construction on the lower wards, new apartment complexes... "I dunno... A few days?"   James shook his head. "I guess it's a good thing I checked up on ya. Buggy wanted me to give you him and the docs latest report on the installation of the Prothean VI up in the council towers. Your office up there is almost done by the way."   James had been a big help in overseeing repairs, he acted as her arm of sorts, having been promoted to commander after the war. Shepard snickered at his nickname for Javik, the grumpy Prothean always bristled at the endearment. "You know Javik hates when you call him that."   James shrugged. "He hasn't said anything to my face. Also, your little girl is terrorizing him."   Athena laughed softly, picturing her daughter chasing Javik around Liara's study was humorous and lifted some stress form her shoulders. "Takes after her father. Isn't she supposed to be with Joker?"   James shrugged. "Yeah, he was up there too, but EDI was doing most of the work. Oh, you got a message from the Turian Primarch by the way."   Shepards head snapped back to him, her eyes widening and her breath catching in her throat. "What did he say?"   James laughed at her expression. "well don't you look like a blushing schoolgirl, Lola." Shepard punched his arm with a scowl. "What did he say james?"   James rubbed his arm, shaking his head with a laugh. "I'm not a secretary. he's downstairs. Why don't you ask him yourself?"   That was all the motivation she needed to leave her office. Thanking her friend, she quickly walked out of her office, anxiously twisting the black gold ring on her left hand. �� She hadn't seen him in almost a month... the thought of seeing him again made her heart swell. She hardly ever left her office, only when things were dire did she leave and make an appearance. She was just lucky that reporters weren't swarming outside, especially after the wedding.   She couldn't move as fast as she may have wanted, her synthetic leg giving her issues, but she ignored the pain and pushed on. Moving through the newly rebuilt presidium and through the embassies when she saw him.   Her breath catching in her throat, overwhelming relief flooding her veins. Her voice barely a whisper. "Garrus..."   His head turned, his gaze meeting hers. It took everything in her to not break her image and just run to him, but she was carefully aware of the reporters surrounding them, each eager to capture the most popular interspecies relationship in a tender moment.   Carefully making her way towards him and keeping her posture professional, she greeted him warmly with one of her rare smiles. "Primarch Vakarian."   Garrus met her halfway, his entourage lagging behind, unsure whether to follow. "Councilor. It is good to see you again." He clasped her hand in his, his grip familiar and grounding, the rumble of his subharmonics speaking his feelings when his words couldn't. Letting their hands fall, resuming their professional demeanor and ignoring the flash of cameras on the other side of the embassy.   "Likewise. How are the reconstruction efforts on Palaven?"   "It's going well. The alliance with the krogan is holding." Garrus' mandibles flared slightly, his gaze flickering to the reporters whispering behind them. "There are some sensitive matters we should discuss."   Shepard nodded, keeping her demeanor professional. "Of course, if you would follow me."   She led the way to her office, Garrus sticking to her side as his guards followed behind him. Luckily the reporters didn't follow. Once reaching her office, she entered the key code and Garrus ordered his guards to stay outside. Once the doors shut behind them, Shepard let her resolve drop and she let out a heavy sigh.  "have I mentioned how much I hate politics? Because I hate politics."   Garrus' laugh made her heart swell, she couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips. "Isn't that why you gave Anderson the job before? Because that made him perfect for it?"   Athena shook her head with a laugh. "I guess I'm eating my words now." She feels his arms wrap around her waist, a content purr rumbling in his chest. "I've missed you, Athena.."   Shepard hummed softly, turning in his arms to face him and press a soft kiss to his mouth plates. "I've missed you too Garrus.." Taking his face in her hands, she looked him over, worry beginning to shake her. "Have you been sleeping?"   Garrus' mandibles flexed, his silence was her answer. Shepard sighed softly, her fingers gently brushing against his scarred mandible. "neither have I..." she pressed another kiss to his mouth plates before she pulled away, their foreheads resting against one another.   "Where's Solana?" Garrus murmured, rubbing his thumbs over the back of her hands. Shepard laughed softly, enjoying their tender moment. "Terrorizing Javik. She's hanging out with Joker and EDI up in the Council towers." Garrus snorted out a laugh, shaking his head. "sounds accurate."   Shepard and Garrus had adopted the little girl after she had been found amongst the rubble on earth, just a small infant crying in her dead mother's arms. Shepard had assisted with the excavation efforts and had found the poor kid. It was impossible for any of the doctors to get the child to stop crying unless Shepard was holding her. After she was nursed back to health, Shepard and Garrus signed the adoption papers and named her after Garrus' sister.   Shepard reluctantly pulled away from their embrace when a ping went off from her datapad.   'Commander,   Get this child of yours before I eat her.   Javik.'   Shepard sighed softly. "Javik is threatening to eat our daughter."   Garrus snorted. "Well, knowing him he's not bluffing. We should probably intervene."  
Shepard nodded. "That would be best."  
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flyingicecreamtruck · 7 years ago
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Hard Left Turn: Thane Part 2
Notes: Thane Lives AU! Several lines of dialog and the contents of letters from the game are used verbatim. I'm also fudging the time line of the game slightly.
Disclaimer: Mass Effect and its characters are not mine.
Life continues on the Citadel because it has to.
The lockdown ends and the population emerges, cautious but eager to return to whatever time is left to them, though the news grows dire with each passing hour.
Several Turian colonies fall, followed by Palaven; though not without a fight. Thane cannot help but smile grimly at the tactics that allow for the destruction of several Reaper capital ships over the planet.  Only the Turians could have pulled off such a risky maneuver. Thane spares a though for Garrus. He wonders if his friend had a hand in that victory.
Refugees begin flooding into Citadel space seeking sanctuary. Human and Batarian, they spread word of galaxy wide annihilation. The Reapers show no mercy, harvesting entire planets or simply destroying them out right. Kar'shan has fallen. Arcturus Station is destroyed, taking with it the entirety of the human government.
The entire Sol system goes dark. Thane sets his omni-tool to scan every frequency he knows, hoping for some word of  a human resistance. If Shepard is alive, she will be in the thick of it. But there is nothing and his hope diminishes with each passing day.
Battle sleep haunts his waking hours, threatening to overwhelm him. The only thing that keeps him from sinking into that void is Kolyat. His son has taken his words to heart; if not on duty he can be found down in the docking bays helping the Priesthood administer to the ever growing number of refugees. They hand out food, clothing, and other necessities, and even help arrange for medical care.
It bolsters him to see Kolyat flourishing, even as the galaxy descends into chaos. For his son's sake, Thane forces himself to eat and sleep and continue his volunteer work.
One afternoon Thane joins Kolyat and the Brothers. He is in the middle of helping a human woman set up bedding for her two small children when his omni-tools beeps. It is an e-mail from Commander Bailey.
Please come see me when you get a chance.
Thane finishes his task and excuses himself. He finds Kolyat sorting through crates of food. “Commander Bailey has asked to see me. I will return once I have spoken with him.” His son nods absently, not looking up from his task.
As he leaves the docking bay, Thane's eye is caught by the memorial wall that has sprung up. Each day it grows larger as more and more refugees arrive. He thinks of the pictures he has saved on his omni-tool; the ones of the two days they had allowed themselves before he had gone under Mordin's knife. He has jealously hoarded them, refusing to part with a single one. They may be the only tangible thing he has left of Shepard.
The elevator doors open to the Embassies. As Thane steps out he is stuck by the change in the atmosphere. The lobby is full of people, excited whispers filling the air. Had there been news? He quickly hurries across the lobby and up the stairs to Bailey's office.
Thane can hear raised voices through the door. He quickly enters to see a human woman in front of Bailey's desk, a camera hovering over her shoulder. A reporter. Now Thane knew something had happened. Commander Bailey glances up as he enters and a look of panic crosses his face.
“Ms. Al-Jalani, if you could-”
“And don't you think, Commander, that the people deserve to know that Co-?”
“YES! Yes I do. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment with Mr. Nuara. Lieutenant!” Another woman appears from the adjacent office. “Please see Ms. Al-Jalani out.” The reporter protests loudly as she is led out, camera floating after her.  
As soon as the door shuts, he turns to Bailey. “Something has happened. Has there been news from Earth?”
Bailey stands. “No, not from Earth.” He picks something up off his desk and holds it out.
It is a data disk. Thane takes it, barely daring to hope. “Shepard?” His voice sounds pained, even to his own ears. “She is alive? Where?”  
“I don't know where she is but, and I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this; the Normandy left about an hour ago. Shepard gave me that right before she headed for the docking bay. She said to give that to you right away and to tell you that she's sorry she missed you.”
Thane gripped the disk so hard the plastic edge bit into his palm. An hour. He had missed her by an hour. But Shepard was alive! He could feel his heart begin to quicken. Thank you. Thank you. “How did she seem?”
“As well as can be expected. Can't say the same for the guy she brought in. He was in bad shape.”
No doubt Joker was still in the pilot's seat. Had he been injured? “Do you know who?”
“I heard her call the guy Kaidan.”
The jealousy that twists through him is startling. A picture frame, face down the night he had gone to her full of shame. Kaidan Alenko, the lover she had before him, the one that had turned his back on her. No, that wasn't-
-fair, Thane.” Her hands twitch in mine, but she does not pull away. “What happened on Horizon was my fault. I didn't even try to explain what was going on. Kaidan had every right to be that angry.” I disagree but do not tell her that. Life support hums around us.
A quiet cough broke Thane out of his memory. “Will he be all right?” He truly did not wish harm on the other man but he cannot forget Shepard's downcast eyes as she had spoken of their meeting on Horizon. Had he been able to visit her on Earth?
“Couldn't say. I'm not even sure Shepard knows. As soon as the orderlies took him to the hospital she went to see the Council. Scuttlebutt says they refused her request for help. Goddamned bureaucrats. Udina looks like he's about to spit nails. I don't know much else.”
Thane looked down at the disk in his hand. Suddenly desperate for answers he thanks Bailey and hurries out into the hallway. Later he will have only dim memories of how he made it back to his apartment. What he will remember is the way his hands shook as he tried to get the disk into his portable terminal. On the third try he is successful. A single video file opens. The camera shifts and he can see a blurry form moving before the camera focuses and Shepard's face appears on the screen.
The rush of emotion is overwhelming. His fist slams on the keyboard, freezing the video. A sob escapes him, harsh in the quiet of his apartment, and Thane is powerless to stop the flood of tears. All his anger and worry and grief come pouring out and it is several minutes before he is able to gain control of himself. With a shuddering breath Thane wipes his eyes and focuses on the screen. He hits play and Shepard smiles at him. She looks exhausted but her smile is genuine. It makes his heart ache.
“Thane, I'm sorry about this crappy video. I wanted to come find you but something came up and it couldn't wait. I'm headed to Palaven to try and drum up support for Earth. If I can get the Turians to commit resources maybe the Asari and Salarians will fall in line. To win this, we're going to need the whole galaxy united. We think we've found something to help fight the Reapers. Liara discovered it in the Prothean Archives on Mars.”
Thane frowns at the mention of Liara. He had sent her several messages over the last 6 months hoping for word of Shepard but they had all gone unanswered. Even if she had been on Mars Liara was the Shadowbroker. She would not have neglected her duties. Curious.
“Whatever this thing is, Cerberus was after it too. Kaidan...he got hurt trying to protect me. I don't even have time to go to the hospital. I don't know if he's going to...” She breaks off with a sob. Thane blinks back a fresh rush of tears.“Shit Thane, everything is such a mess. I feel like I'm stumbling around in the dark. I'd give anything to have you on the Normandy with me. You always know what to say to keep me going. I don't know when I'll be back on the Citadel but I promise I'll make time to see you. Until then, know that I love you and miss you and hope to see you soon.”
The video abruptly ends. Thane hits play a second time, and then a third, just to hear her voice. When he is through he activates his omni-tool, compressing every letter he has written and every video he has recorded into a file and attaches it to a note.
Siha,
Mere words cannot express the joy I feel in knowing that you are alive. When we heard the news from Earth Kolyat and I feared the worst. I should not have. Death did not stop you; I should not have believed the Reapers could either.
Though circumstances keep us apart know that my love and prayers go with you. By grace given me by the Goddess Arashu, I bid her divine protection to you, my warrior-angel, my Siha, to succeed in your destiny. To light your path through the darkness. To give you hope, when all seems lost.
No matter what happens in the coming days, I know you will face it bravely. You are good at that.
I patiently await your return.
Thane
Post Script: Cerberus may try to finish what they started on Mars. I will look out for Kaidan.
Thane sends off the file with a prayer of thanksgiving and, after several minutes of contemplation, leaves his apartment with renewed purpose. He must first speak with Kolyat. He will need his son's blessing to return to Shepard's side. Then he must speak to Dr. Tozon and have him sign off on a new fitness routine.
He will be ready when his Siha returns.
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saintcheesus · 8 years ago
Text
So @galpalaven and I had a very pleasant and heartbreaking conversation about the one and only turian bad-boy Garrus Vakarian, and through this I was finally able to muster enough courage to write this thing. I hope you enjoy!! 
----
“Is there something wrong with Garrus?” Liara approached Leona in the mess hall and interrupted her afternoon coffee break. Leona sighed and put the mug down. She was the third person to ask that today. First it was James, then it was Tali, and now her. Truth be told she hadn’t seen him at all that day, and while it was unusual, she simply chalked it up to him being busy with calibrations or keeping Palaven safe.
God. Palaven. She could never erase his face when he looked up at the burning planet. Fear, anger, sadness. Of course, she had been the same when Earth was attacked, but she didn’t have family there.
“I haven’t seen him all day.”
“I saw him a while ago. He was sitting at the table and he looked…I’m not sure what to call it, Leona, but he was distant and while I am no psychologist I fear he might have been disassociating.”
That worried her. She loves Garrus more than she ever thought she could. She tells him every night just before they settle for bed that she wants him to know that if he ever needed to talk, if he ever needed company, anything, she was there for him and each time he would at her and smile and say that he knows. She knows that Garrus has a hard time with accepting the fact that he isn’t a burden, and that he can afford to be selfish with his emotions. He always tells her the same thing, she only wished he could believe it himself.
“He hasn’t come out of the main battery since?”
Liara shook his head.
“I’ve come out to see if maybe he left, but his door has been closed.”
For a moment, Leona thought about getting EDI to pull up the feed from inside of the battery, but thought against it. Garrus didn’t deserve to have his privacy breeched like that. Not again, at least. She took another sip of her coffee and told Liara that she would handle it. Liara gave her a small smile and returned to her room. Leona, on the other hand, took careful steps towards the battery’s door, almost hesitant to open it. She knocked first, and there was no answer but there was also no one telling her to go away either. She opened the door and walked in to find him sitting on one of the crates, staring at the floor, as still as the air in the battery. He didn’t even react to her coming in.
“Garrus?”
Still nothing. She made her way over and took a seat next to him.
“Hey,” She nudged him slightly. He jumped in response and she watched as he slowly came to remember where he was.
“Oh, Leona.”
Her brows furrowed at the way he whispered her name. It didn’t sound like him, she didn’t like it.
“You okay there big guy?”
He took a while to answer her and as she suspected, he nodded and moved to get up. “Yes, yeah, I was…just taking a break.”
“By locking yourself in here all day? You know the rest of crew is worried about you right?”
His back was to her now, his face turned slightly to show that he was still listening, but he didn’t respond. She stood too and leaned on the wall.
“Garrus what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Leo…I’m fine.”
He sounded so tired and…sad and she wished that he would confide in her like she does with him. She just stared and watched him type away on the control panel in front of him, he wasn’t doing any work on the gun, she knew better. She shook her head and pushed herself off the cold metal wall. She moved to the entrance of the room and said, “You know sometimes I wish you would understand there’s nothing wrong with not being okay, Garrus. You aren’t being selfish, and you most certainly are not burdening me with your problems.”
He stopped typing and his hands dropped to his sides like they were too heavy to lift. His shoulders sagged and he looked down. She turned to leave the room when she heard his voice, almost too soft for ears to pick up.
“I’m tired, Leona.”
And in that moment her heart broke. She spun on her heel and grabbed his hand, ushering him to the elevator so that they could talk privately in their room. He sank down to the bed and Leona sat beside him, rubbing her fingers on his hand.
“What’s wrong Garrus?” She was trying to speak as softly as possible because he wasn’t one to share his emotions and she hated that he suffered in silence.
“A few weeks before you came to Menae…my mom…she uh…she….”
God. Was all she could think. He didn’t even need to hear the last word to know what he was going to say. How long had he been keeping this to himself?
“It’s okay Garrus, you don’t have to finish the sentence.” She never heard such raw pain in his voice and she wasn’t sure if turians could cry, she didn’t want to find out.
“I wasn’t sure if I could, to be honest.” He let out a dry laugh and she winced. It sounded like it hurt to even do that.
“What was she like?” It was the only thing she could think to ask. The only way she could comment and comfort him without giving away that she knew all along.
She remembers the Shadow Broker dossiers, and the first one she tapped on was his. She debated for a long time if she wanted to read it, but there was so much she didn’t know about him, and so much she missed out on while she was dead. She read about his mother and how Garrus donated all his money to helping her, how he convinced Mordin to send Collector tissue to the facility without her, and possibly the Illusive Man knowing. He claimed that the wine was all he could afford on a vigilante’s salary, but she knew the real reason and could only smile in response to his joke. She was half tempted to send her own contribution, but she didn’t want Garrus to feel violated and betrayed that she knew. She knew about his sister and his father and wondered just how lonely Garrus felt. She only wants him to be happy and her want became too much for her to think about and so she told Liara when she visited the ship.
His mandible flickered, if he didn’t want to talk then she wouldn’t press him, but she sat and waited.
“She was beautiful, and I know that’s the first thing everyone says about their mother but she really was. Unlike my dad, she never pushed me, never got mad at me for not being the ideal son. She just let me be and I was so grateful for her. She was kind, and strong, and so full of life, Leona. I used to be so happy to just be with her and have her near me. She would always tell me she loved me and I always felt so safe around her.”
Leona felt tears pricked her eyes at the way he spoke about her. This was a side of Garrus she wanted to see more, so unabashedly full of love and kindness, the real Garrus.
“She let me cry, she let me smile and she let me laugh. Before you, Leo, she was the best woman in my life. Solana was okay too, I guess.” They both chuckled at that.
“She would’ve loved you.” He whispered. Leona stroked the side of his face, feeling the scar underneath her touch.
“I know you want to know what happened, and I’ll tell you as much as I can but you’ll forgive me for not lingering on it. She got sick, Corpalis Syndrome is what it’s called. It’s a rare neurological degenerative disease for turians. I’m not too sure about human diseases but it means that she had trouble remembering things, or sometimes it was as if she was never sick. It’s terminal, and there really isn’t much known about it, or really any treatment that works to halt it or cure it entirely.”
Leona was telling herself that she would find a cure for it one day. She helped cure the genophage why couldn’t she cure this? She could donate money, and name the donation after his mother. She certainly doesn’t have a shortage of credits, and she wants to make him happy.
“Dad…I know he’s trying to keep a brave face for us, but I know he’s hurting. She was the love of his life, anyone could see that, and turians bond for life. I’m glad Sol was still there with him, I don’t think he would have wanted to be alone. He spent a lot of credits trying to keep her alive, and I know a large portion of it came from the retirement fund he’s been saving for years. See that’s the thing about my father, he acts unshakeable but he’s not. He spent a lot of time on the Citadel during our childhood, but when he came back home, he always looked so ecstatic to see her. They would touch face plates a lot and whisper things to each other, but the way his subharmonics reacted whenever he saw her…you’d have to hear it to believe it. I only got to see her a little before she…but it never failed that I would see him curled up on the chair next to her bed, fast asleep, holding her hand. I hope he’s okay…”
She kept stroking his face, staring at him even though he wasn’t facing her. In this short time, she learned so much about him, about his family and it motivated her even more to stop the Reapers once and for all. So that Garrus’ question would be answered.
“I hope so too Garrus. I hope so too…”
----
I’ll also tag @shakarian-calibrations @ao3feed-shakarian @emmavakarian-theirin
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amandashepard · 8 years ago
Text
Proud
This fic was written as a giveaway prize for @foofyschmoofer! The events of this story take place after the Destroy ending of ME3 and Shepard has the spacer background. I had a great time writing this! :)
Hannah Shepard squeezed her daughter’s hand.
Shepard looked over at her mother and smiled. Her heart was full today; today was the day her mother and Garrus’ father would finally get to meet.
Shepard had spoken to Castis Vakarian several times before, but they had never met in person. Already she felt a closeness to him that helped with the hole in her heart that her own father left behind. He had passed away due to an illness right before she joined the military. A large part of her decision to join was to make him proud and continue his legacy. Ever since her and Garrus had decided to start exclusively dating, Shepard and Garrus chatted regularly with his father via video chats and eventually Shepard would begin to call him regularly on her own for advice and comfort. Castis eased the pain of losing her dad some, and that meant the world to her.
Shepard and her mother approached the restaurant on the Citadel where they were going to meet.
They approached a hostess station where a young asari greeted them.
“Oh, Commander Shepard! It’s an honor. We were expecting you, right this way. Mr. Vakarian has already arrived.”
The hostess walked them back to a private balcony area that overlooked the Presidium. The view was beautiful and the area was quiet.
“There they are!” Garrus said, walking over to greet them.
“Rear Admiral Shepard, it is so wonderful to meet you.” Garrus said, reaching his hand out to her.
Hannah smiled at him and shook his hand, then leaned in and hugged him. Garrus reciprocated, his heart warmed by her immediate affection to him.
“Garrus, so wonderful to finally meet you. Please, call me Hannah.”
Garrus motioned to the turian beside him. “This is my father, Castis Vakarian.”
“Castis.” Shepard said with a big smile, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. Castis squeezed her tightly, filled with joy.
Garrus was overjoyed to see the interaction between two of the people he loved most in the world. He knew Shepard and his father had grown close over the years, but seeing them hugging and smiling at one another truly meant everything to him.
“It is so good to finally see you in person, Shepard. You’ve already been family for so long now, it feels like this was far too overdue.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Shepard said, a big smile on her face.
“Castis, this is my mother Hannah.”
Hannah hugged Castis.
“It’s so good to meet you. My daughter thinks the world of you.”
“Please, sit everyone.” Garrus said, pulling out Hannah’s chair and then Shepard’s. When Shepard sat down she pulled Garrus’ face to hers and kissed his cheek.
Hannah smiled, thrilled to see the joy on her not-so-little girl’s face. She had watched her daughter save the entire galaxy only months ago, but as momentous as that was, as a mother, she was just relieved to have her only child safe and happy.
“So, I hear you were in C-Sec, is that correct? You too, Garrus?” Hannah asked.
“Ah yes,” Castis said with a laugh. “Retired now. My son and I worked at C-Sec at the same time for a little while as a matter of fact.”
Garrus chuckled. “We fought endlessly. Totally different opinions on how C-Sec should work. Everything worked out alright in the end, I think.” Garrus said, looking over at Shepard. Shepard smiled back at him, and his heart fluttered. After so many years he still could never get used to how her smile made him feel. His head was buzzing from nerves and excitement over everything going on.
“How is Solana? Leg doing better?” Shepard asked, taking a sip of her water glass. She leaned in towards her mother. “Solana is Garrus’ sister. She’s wonderful, I hope you two get to meet soon.”
“She’s doing well.” Castis replied. “Leg is almost completely healed now, she’s been able to walk with minimal pain lately. Turian bones are hard to break as it is, but after they heal they recover even stronger.”
“I’m so glad to hear it.” Shepard said.
“Solana’s been on Palaven lately helping with the reconstruction effort near the area we grew up in. There’s still so much left to do.” Garrus said.
“Things are heading in a good direction now, though. Now that the Reaper threat is over, thanks to our children, we can focus on moving forward.” Castis added, his voice optimistic and calm.
“Absolutely.” Hannah said, smiling and taking her daughter’s hand in hers.
She felt nothing but gratitude for where she was sitting right now. Her mother next to her, the turian she loved across from her and his father that she had grown so close to next to him.
“Dad, Hannah, can I get you guys something from the bar?” Garrus asked.
“Sure, thanks Garrus. You know what I always get.” Castis replied.
“Got it. Hannah?” Garrus said.
“Whatever my daughter’s getting would be great, thank you Garrus.”
“Beer it is!” Shepard said.
Shepard got up to join Garrus to go the bar.
“We really couldn’t have asked for more amazing kids, could we?” Hannah said proudly.
“Absolutely not. Your daughter is truly a wonderful person even outside of her heroism. It has been such a pleasure getting to know her over the years. I know my wife would have absolutely loved her.”
Castis saw a flash of sadness on Hannah’s face.
“I’m so sorry about your wife’s passing, I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about her.”
“She was truly something special. I miss her every single day. But I know she would be so proud of Garrus and I’m sure she was watching out for him.” Castis said, a smile in his eyes.
“I have no doubt.” Hannah said softly, smiling.
“Your daughter told me that you were a big help in the Crucible project?”
“Well I don’t know about a big help,” Hannah laughed, “but I was part of a research team focusing on propulsion systems.”
“That project was incredible, and every little bit made it exactly what it was so it was definitely a big help.”
Garrus and Shepard waited at the bar for their drinks, their hands linked.
“This is so nice, thank you so much for arranging this Garrus.”
Garrus put his fingers through Shepard’s hair, caressing her face in the process.
“Your mother is wonderful. Makes sense though, only someone wonderful could make you.” He said.
“Shut up.” Shepard said with a laugh, wrapping both arms around Garrus’ small waist.
“I wasn’t gonna bring this up to her directly, but she’s quite the bad-ass herself isn’t she?” Garrus asked.
“Oh yeah. She is deadly with pistols, like frighteningly so. She didn’t get promoted as quickly as she did for no reason. The woman is a force of nature. A very sweet, demure, force of nature.”
“Like mother, like daughter I see.” Garrus said, kissing her forehead.
“Should we have left them alone? They just met, I didn’t mean to make anything awkward.” Shepard asked, glancing back at the table.
“Nah, they’re fine. My dad is plenty talkative for all four of us, trust me. You think you get tired of Wrex’s long winded stories? Just wait.”
Shepard laughed. “I happen to love your dad’s long winded stories, thank you very much. My favorite is the one about when you and Solana were little and you pretended to snipe her from across your living room floor and she went with it and played dead and everything. I heard you even were so subtle that you made a "ptew” noise when you shot.“
Garrus laughed, putting his hand on his face. "Oh Spirits, that story. Well, I wasn’t always the devilishly handsome and sexy Archangel that I am today. Was always the best damn shot in the family though.”
“Oh, I bet you were.” Shepard replied, her voice almost a growl. “You are pretty sexy though, I’ll admit that.”
She leaned in and kissed him deeply, and he grabbed her waist in response, pulling her close to him.
“Oh come on, you’re gonna get me all riled up like that when we have to go walk back to our parents?”
“That’s the fun part, the part we can fix as soon as we get home.” Shepard teased.
Garrus exhaled, feigning frustration. He kissed her again, then as their faces parted his voice grew low and quiet, the exact tone he knew drove her crazy.
“Count on it.”
They walked back over to the table, drinks in hand.
“I never thought I would get sick of people offering to buy us drinks, but it’s just starting to make me feel bad now.”
“I don’t feel bad. Saving the galaxy has to come with a few perks after all, doesn’t it?” Garrus teased back.
Castis laughed, slapping his hand on Garrus’ back as he sat down. “That’s my son, all right.”
“You two were talking about how fabulous your children were the whole time we were gone, right?” Shepard teased, a big smile on her face.
Hannah smiled back at her.
“Absolutely.”
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kylan-writes · 8 years ago
Text
But To Love You
My contribution to the @meflashfanwork February theme of Home/Intimacy! It’s been on AO3 since Valentine’s day, but now I’m finally posting! I hope you enjoy the shakarian fluff <3
The light of the bright sunset poured in through the wide windows, casting a pink-orange glow across the space. Rhea hummed to herself as she pulled a glass down from the cabinet, getting herself some water from the tap. She stared out at the expansive ocean that she called her backyard as she sipped, old Earth music playing through the stereo. The little colony world couldn’t be a more perfect home. The tropical climate was almost as warm as Palaven and lacked the high radiation levels that made the turian homeworld dangerous for humans. It was everything the two war ravaged lovers needed.
It’d been a couple years since she retired from the Alliance at the ripe old age of 34. After the Reapers were no longer a threat, she stayed for a little while. They needed folks who were willing to help rebuild and repair the damage done. She did what she could, but after a while she grew exhausted. Her survivor’s guilt and PTSD had settled in more firmly in her mind. That she was so stubborn and strong willed had made it a little easier to manage, and most days she could carry on like normal, but she could still feel it lingering in the back of her mind. Having a permanent home helped.
Her new home was a house on a cliff that overlooked the coast, similar in design to the apartment on the Citadel. Her home, however, had one level with three bedrooms (one which had been turned into an emergency armory, just in case) and a massive living room that was separated from the kitchen only by an island. Garrus hated the large windows that lined the ocean facing side of their home, declaring them unsafe despite there being very few people in the galaxy who wanted them dead these days. Rhea, however, loved the way they let in the sunlight and the view of the sea. Being a pushover when it came to her, Garrus accepted his defeat in that particular argument.
She went stiff as the front door opened, her fingers itching to start up her biotics reflexively until she heard, “I’m home, Ray!” from the front hall.
Rhea closed her eyes, gripping the glass tight as she leaned forward against the stone countertop. Relax, she told herself, controlling her breathing to try calming herself. Her paranoia wasn’t getting any better.  
“I’m back,” the all too familiar voice of her turian fiance said to her, Garrus setting a box of groceries on the counter beside her.
“Hey, honey,” she said, looking over and craning her neck up to meet the gaze of his bright blue eyes. He still wore that tactical visor, as though it would help him defeat rogue shoppers at the market.
His mandibles flared slightly in a way that she’d long since learned was a smile. She let the corners of her lips pull up into a little smile as he put a hand on her shoulder and bent down to nuzzle her forehead with his. Her eyes closed, this time peacefully, and she savored the moment before he stood straighter to start putting the food away.
“So what’d you get?” she asked as she opened a drawer, pulling out two rolls of colored tape. Red for levo, blue for dextro. The color coding was a backup to their positioning system. Food on the left side of the kitchen was for Rhea, and the right was for Garrus. The tape came in handy for those only slightly awake mornings where Rhea would pull out the first thing she found and start eating. It was fortunate that neither of them were allergic in any way to each other’s protein types.
“Enough for a couple weeks’ meals,” he said, opening the fridge to put away the various types of meat he’d bought.
Rhea pouted playfully. “Aww, but now we don’t have an excuse to go out for dinner in the city.”
“I thought you’d enjoy the excuse to stay inside,” he said, amusement in his tone.
She shrugged. “A little change in scenery wouldn’t be too bad. Did you read the message from Liara?”
“Which, the one inviting us to the Citadel?”
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Rhea said, pulling off a few pieces of tape as she started her labeling process. “Apparently they've finally managed to put it back together. The buildings still need some work done, though.”
He eyed her for a second. Rhea knew that look, the worried one that said 'Can you handle it?’ She looked back at him with one that said, 'I’ll be fine’, and removed any potential for an argument. They very rarely fought, the last time hardly even classifying as such since it was more a disagreement on what to eat for dinner. They knew each other too well for fights, both willing to compromise to keep each other happy.
“It's not for a few months, though,” Garrus noted.
“Nope, gives us plenty of time to find an excuse if we need it,” she joked, sticking the last bit of blue tape on a package of gizzards.
Her best friend chuckled at this, the sound low in his throat and his amusement tangling with his subvocals. “You think there's anything left of the old apartment?”
“I heard that some spots of the Strip made it out alright,” she said. “I'm not that optimistic about the chances of any of our stuff having made it out of there intact.”
“Pessimism is supposed to be my job,” he said, giving her a nudge. Rhea rolled her eyes as she stuck red tape on a box of generic cereal. “Think any part of the casino made it out alive?”
“You mean the one where we got all dolled up just to find a dead man, then returned a week later and you all of a sudden could dance? Doubtful.” She paused for a second, thinking. “Maybe we should go back if they ever fix it up. You know, I wear a dress and you wear that suit, try to sweet talk each other. Make a thing out of it.”
He seemed intrigued by this. “It'll be at least another few years before they get that section of the Citadel fixed.”
“Plenty of time to make sure we don't have other plans,” she joked with a wink. Garrus smiled at this, looking at her fondly as they finished shelving boxes.
Rhea started humming again as the music changed, not knowing most of the lyrics but enjoying the tune of an almost two hundred year old song. Her parents had instilled a love of old music in her, the Frank Sinatra tune just one of many on her playlists.
Garrus noticed her change in mood with the new song. He'd heard it a number of times by now, and each time it made Rhea smile and sway. She was a terrible dancer, unless she was dancing with him.
Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm And your cheeks so soft There is nothing for me but to love you And the way you look tonight
He smiled at her and took the tape from her, putting it back in the drawer of random crap they'd accumulated and taking her hand. She resisted when he tried to tug her to the wide open space of their living room.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her tone almost the same accusingly confused as when he’d done this almost five years ago.
He made a point of meeting her gaze as he turned up the stereo. “Come on, it'll be fun.”
She'd heard that one before. “You're asking a crippled old woman to dance with you?”
Garrus smirked at this, challenging her with, “You're only a couple years older than me and you stubbed your toe on the couch three days ago.”
For a moment Rhea stared at his hand and the silver band on his index finger that matched hers, the promise of permanence once everything else was settled always there. Then she sighed. “Oh, what the hell…” she caved, trying to hold back the smile her face wanted to betray her with. The betrayal came quickly as the small woman was twirled about in a circle, a laugh breaking through the air as she followed his lead.
And that laugh that wrinkles your nose It touches my foolish heart Lovely, don't you ever change Keep that breathless charm Won't you please arrange it? 'Cause I love you Just the way you look tonight
The sunset glow of the room bathed them in brilliant warm colors as they danced, Rhea not once missing a beat or stepping on her best friend's toes. They kept dancing about as a couple more old songs played, including the song that played on their ‘first date’. Garrus laughed along with her as they took the time to enjoy themselves. They deserved it.
The two collapsed on their large couch in a heap, breathless and still giddy as they cuddled up together. Garrus pressed his forehead to Rhea’s, nuzzling her as he held her tight. Of all the good things to come from early retirement, these moments were his favorite.
“I love you,” he said, just as he had every day since reuniting with her after everything that had happened. He refused to waste a chance to let her know how much she meant to him.
“I know,” she teased, kissing the faded scars on the right side of his face. She loved those scars, the dull marks a constant reminder that he was alive and safe with her and that they'd be safe together. “I love you too.”
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3rdstreetboss · 8 years ago
Text
On The Shores of Kalahira.
“I cannot forget you. That is what humans say. With us, it is a state called ‘tu-fira’: lost in another.”
“I love you. If all else whispers back into the tide, know this for fact. By grace given me by the Goddess Arashu, I bid her divine protection to you, my warrior-angel, my Siha, to succeed in your destiny. To light your path through the coming darkness. To give you hope, when all seems lost. I will await you across the sea.”
- Shepard didn’t fear death after Thane left her. Death was her only chance at seeing him again.
Rating: General Audiences Tags: Spoilers for Mass Effect 3 Pairing: Thane Krios/Female Shepard Word Count: 1403
Read it on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9283676
[ Just a quick one shot! Thanks to anyone who decides to read! ]
Below the cut!
Shepard huffed, Garrus slung over her shoulders. He limped beside her as she ran as fast as she could with supporting a turian.
"Don't you dare leave me, Garrus. You're gonna survive this. You're gonna go home to Palaven and see Solana and her new baby. You're gonna marry Tali and... just live. Please, Garrus." She feels him chuckle in response, nodding his head. She drags him just a little further. She just needed to get him to the ship. She needed to get him safe. 
" 'Course, Shepard. Wouldn't dream of disappointing you." Garrus flinches and stumbled just a little. His armor is stained with blue Turian blood, and theres so much, and its so fresh and Shepard cannot delay any longer. She uses all her strength she can muster and breaks into a dead sprint, practically carrying Garrus.
The stomp of her boot on the ramp to the Normandy is drowned out by all the other loud, deafening noises. "Take him!" she yells, pushing Garrus into the arms of a waiting crew member. 
"Shepard!"
"Go!" Shepard violently points to the ship behind him and she looks at him, one last time. She mapping the planes of his face. This was her friend, her teammate, her brother. She'd loved him for so long, given him everything she could. She'd given him the love her family deserved, given him her time, and her words. In return, he'd given her the same love he gave Solana, his trust, his undying loyalty. He was the family she never had, and she loved him for it.
"Shepard, I love you..." He'd yelled out for her in such a desperate way, and she realized the heat  down her cheeks were tears. She was crying, because she was afraid she'd never see him again. "Come back to us, Shepard. Please!" She gave him a solid nod and turned her back to him. 
This was it. Her entire family was on her ship, and she was alone, like she had been at the beginning. But she loved them, and they all knew it. Her last wish, however, had been to see Thane one last time.
Shepard was drowning. She could feel the water fill her lungs as she inhaled. It burned her insides and then she was on fire, roasting from the inside out. She was burning and drowning at the same time and she couldn't stop it. This was her death. She was dying, she had to be.
Getting spaced was more painful than this, oddly enough, and it was so definite. She couldn't think about anything except the fact that she was freezing and suffocation. She didn't have time to think before he death the last time, like she did now. 
Right now, she wished she had an eidetic memory, so that she could remember and relive every moment she could with her crew, her team, Thane. She wished she;d had more time with him, and that he had gotten more time with his son. She wished she had gotten more time to get to know Kolyat, even after his father's death. He was a good kid and deserved more. Thane didn't deserve to die and Kolyat deserved a normal life. 
Her entire crew deserved normal lives. She'd dragged them all to this fiery black hole with her for so many years. Garrus was C-Sec, he could have done so more. Hell, he could have been the Primarch on Palaven. Mordin would still be alive if it hadn't been for her. She'd told him to release the cure but if she hadn't destroyed the Krogan breeding facility on Virmire, he'd still be alive. Tali, she felt most guilty about. She could have finished her pilgrimage and lived happy. Maybe she could have saved her father, and stayed on the flotilla with her family.
But Shepard ruined everything. She always had.
Her lungs contracted and she wanted to scream. She couldn't feel her legs anymore, and her chest grew numb. She couldn't  move, she couldn't open her eyes, and she couldn't think about anything except that she was dying, suffering. And soon, she felt nothing. She couldn't feel her lungs struggle for breath, or the fire in her head. Shepard was gone.
It seemed like a long time she'd laid there, unfeeling, unbreathing, unmoving.
Like a wave, a rush of unknown, she could feel. 
She inhaled a deep, gasping breath, and it didn't hurt. She couldn't open her eyes, but at least she could breath. She could feel her toes when she wiggled then, feel her fingers when she made a fist. 
She was in water, floating just above the sand that rubbed against her back. The water was warm, peaceful, and quiet. She'd had been there forever if it wasn't for the bright sun causing bright colors to dance behind her eyelids. She sat up slowly, opening her eyes gently to adjust to the brightness around her. She was in the ocean, she knew that much. She dug her toes in the wet sand beneath the water, relishing the soft feeling. The air was fresh, and Shepard took a relaxing deep breath... something she hadn't done in a long time.
Sitting in the sand, peacefully, surrounded by quiet, gave Shepard a different perspective. Her life had been so stressful, chaotic, violent, disastrous. For a long time, she'd never known peace and quiet. Not since Mindoir, and from there Akuze, Elysium, Torfan. She'd never been relaxed in her entire life. She'd lost so much in such a short amount of time, and she'd still kept it all from falling apart. 
And now she was on an empty beach, in shorts and a tank top. She rose to her feet slowly, water drops sliding down her skin. Her hair was still in its bun, which dripped down her neck. As she scanned the horizon, looking out across the forest of sand and palm trees, she spots a figure. It's so familiar that a pang runs through her heart.
The shores of Kalahira...
Thane.
Shepard breaks into a dead run, water splashing up around her. The figure develops shape, and she knows its him, she can tell. This was her final place... here, with her lover. 
She stops short, right in front of Thane. Her eyes swell with tears as she takes in everything. His eyes, the texture of his beautiful skin.  He's finally real again, not just a ghost.
"Siha." Thane whispers. She falters at the sound of his voice, and she starts to cry, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She hadn't heard his voice in a long time. His real voice, at least. She had the recording Kolyat had given her, but it was never the same. "You got my letter." She laugh, his thumb coming up to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
"Of course I did. I..." She looks down at her toes digging into the sand, taking a deep breath. "I put it on paper, kept it in my armor. It made me feel close to you, like you were right beside me once again." She sighed, resting against his chest, arms wrapped around each other.
"I am always right here, siha. Forever." He rests his head against her, breathing in deeply. Shepard instinctively waits for his cough, waits to him close as he struggles to breathe. He doesn't. He breathes freely, calmly. She closes her eyes, listening to his chest. She had everything she needed from now on, right in her arms. They stand in silence for a few moments before Thane speaks again. "And Kai Leng?" He asks it gently and quietly. Maybe he thinks it'll anger her.
"Dead. He tried to kill me. I broke his blade, and then I killed him. I shouldn't have, I know that now, but I couldn't stop myself." She crying again, he body shaking. Thane holds her tightly, shushing her gently. "I had more time with you, and he took from us, from Kolyat."
"Siha..." Thane slips a hand along her jaw, tilting her head to look at him. "You are here with me now, and we have time. We have all of time. We have forever." He presses his lips firmly to her. This was tu-fira, Shepard finally understood what it was like to completely and utterly love someone, to be lost in another.
They had forever, thank the goddess Kalahira.
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