#on mass effect fanfiction

[yuukian-aurorerose]

Another post for N7 day

I hosted a binder international exchange for Mass Effect and here are the beautiful binds I made!

[milkywayes]

The reality was as cold and disillusioning as the rain.

a big thank you to @that-wildwolf for commissioning me to capture this emotional scene from Edge of Yesterday!

[katskip]

Nathaly Shepard and Kaidan Alenko ☄️ commission for @pigeontheoneandonly

A book cover for Pigeon's Mass Effect novelization entitled Discovery 🌠 We have high hopes that the first print copy looks PERFECT 🤞

[al78m]

Illustration for Citadel

[scripts4dreamers]

Crossed Wires

AN: I have been infected with Loves Garrus Vakarian. There is no cure. Have some "interspecies relationships are actually kind of difficult, but not if you're hot" as a treat. Warnings: Mentions of sex, suggestive language, not suitable for underage readers. Spoilers: None

Despite his extensive research, Garrus still felt totally out of his depth with human culture sometimes. Alright, a lot of his research had been focussed on the logistics of human sex rather than culture and, alright maybe he’d spent more time on courting rituals than social structure or history but, still, he was shocked by how little he understood about humans in general. Shepard was the exception. She had always made perfect sense to him. He could tell how she’d slept by the tightness around her eyes. He could predict her movements on the battlefield without conscious thought. He knew what made her laugh, what made her smile, he knew how to touch her in just the right way, so her eyes rolled back in her head and-

Well, suffice it to say she wasn’t the problem. Kaidan Alenko was the problem or, more accurately, the things Garrus didn’t know about Kaidan Alenko were the problem.

It had started innocuously. Kaidan had rejoined the crew of the Normandy and Garrus had celebrated the gang getting back together. There was some tension between him and Shepard, but that was to be expected. They had a history of some sort, after all, and they hadn’t left things on the best terms on Horizon but, to Garrus, that was ancient history. He’d missed Kaidan and having him back made Garrus feel better about their chances.

It also apparently made the female members of the crew feel…things. First, Garrus had heard the girls who manned the scanner swooning over Kaidan’s eyes. Next, a navigator and a one of the store officers had snuck down near the battery to have a lengthy conversation about Major Alenko’s biceps and ass. Three days after that a group of intelligence officers in the lounge spent their lunch break discussing the naughty dreams they had had about Kaidan. And on and on and on and on it went. Everywhere Garrus turned there seemed to be some crewman absolutely frothing at the mouth over Kaidan Alenko. Which was fine. Or, rather, it would have been fine if Garrus had had even the slightest inkling that Kaidan was attractive by human standards.

He knew Shepard was attractive - spirits, he knew - but that was Shepard. What he felt for her was so much more than plain lust, his magnetic fucking inevitable attraction to her was an attraction to her, not human women in general. He loved the taste of her skin, loved the way her hair caught the light, the way her hands looked when they gripped a gun. Other humans were, well, just humans. Garrus had never felt the need to look at them for particularly long. He had always assumed that this meant Shepard was simply the most attractive human currently alive, an opinion he felt very confident in having, but that made the revelation about Kaidan feel even stranger. He had thought he understood humans. Finding out that he didn’t made him feel like he was flying blind and he hated flying blind.

When the gossipers finished their dissection of Kaidan’s apparently godlike features, conversation inevitably turned to him and Shepard, to their relationship, to rumors about their history, to raunchy comments about their babies and their chemistry and a million other things Garrus wished he had never overheard. Their tone would take on this conspiratorial note as they built a version of Kaidan and Shepard in their heads that had never really existed. At that point someone would usually bring up Garrus, and whoever they were talking to would inevitably start wondering about how he and Shepard had sex. They were never cruel about Garrus. Often one of the gossipers would chime in that they understood the appeal, but there was always the underlying question of how. How do they do it? How do they kiss? How do they, how do they, how do they? The message was clear; Kaidan and Shepard made sense. They were the fantasy, the power couple, the human ideal. Garrus and Shepard were an oddity, a curiosity, something almost beyond comprehension.

“How do they fit?” The people seemed to ask.

How indeed, Garrus’ worst thoughts answered.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what he had with Shepard was special, even if it was still somewhat undefined. He knew she could have anyone she damn well pleased and still she came to him. He knew Kaidan would shoot himself in both feet before ever purposely getting in the way of his two friends’ happiness. He knew the gossip was just that, gossip. It was normal on a ship. It was normal on Palaven, at C-Sec, in every organized institution in the galaxy, but his discomfort wasn’t about that, it was about the fact that he didn’t know. Even more upsettingly, he didn’t know what was acceptable to ask and what wasn’t.

If Shepard was Turian, none of this would be happening. He would know not to ask about Kaidan. Asking a Turian woman about their previous lovers would be seen as challenging her integrity and self worth. It was assumed that if a woman had chosen to be with you it was because she saw you as worthy of her and, more distinctly, more worthy of her than any previous matches had been. Turian women were not prone to “dating down”. Having been around human women, he knew that particular bit of dating culture was not completely transferable.

As he watched Shepard going through the motions of taking care of her hair - something he found inexplicably fascinating - Garrus was forced to acknowledge that part of his discomfort came from him not being a particularly good Turian. By all rights he shouldn’t be letting other people’s opinions of a relationship he wasn’t even sure had happened between two of his closest friends three years ago throw him like this, especially not when the nature of his relationship with Shepard was still so up in the air. It diminished them both. It was juvenile and unproductive and embarrassing and-

“I can hear you spiraling, Garrus,” Shepard interrupted teasingly, catching his eye in her mirror and turning to face him, “credit for your thoughts?”

It never ceased to amaze Garrus how just a few words from her could soothe even his most restless impulses. It was rare that they had the luxury of a full night together, even rarer that they had time to waste the following morning. Most of their relationship (?)/entanglement was spent in stolen moments in between complete chaos. They shot one another knowing glances while defusing bombs, and traded suggestive comments over the cacophony of gunfire. Occasionally she would fall asleep on his shoulder on the shuttle ride back from missions. Sometimes he would hold her hand underneath the table as the team strategized. They weren’t hiding anything, exactly, but there was a time and place. So many crew members had been separated from the people that they lo-cared for-by the war that flaunting that he and Shepard could be by one anothers’ side felt selfish, so they kept it discreet. Or, rather, they tried their best to keep it discreet, until one of their inhibitions snapped and they tumbled into Shepard’s bed with very little care for who saw them coming or going. Life was short, they would remind each other, especially now.

He suddenly felt foolish for stewing in his discomfort. He pushed himself upright and gestured for Shepard to join him on her bed, which she did, resting her back against his carapace and sighing as he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck. She smelled like lemongrass, the herbal tea she liked to drink first thing in the mornings, and him. It was subtle but completely unmistakable and he couldn’t help but wonder if she even knew. He knew no human nose would be able to pick it up, but Victus would. Wrex would. Javik would. Surely someone would have pointed out to her the way they lingered on one another’s skin, the invisible olfactory ties that bound them to one another. Or was that his job? Would she mind? It was a little bit thrilling for Garrus to walk around the citadel knowing that every Turian and Krogan he passed knew he was taken by Shepard. Seeing the momentary look of confusion, followed by the flash of realisation filled him with pride, but maybe it wouldn’t be the same for his commander. Humans didn’t really know about the intricacies of scenting, did they?

“Garrus,” she pressed, reaching a hand behind her and running her fingers down the back of his neck in the way that made him shiver, “you still with me?”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to the soft skin beneath her ear before admitting, “Sorry, Shepard. I’m being an idiot, that’s all.”

“So, business as usual then?” She joked, turning slightly so he could see her fond smile, “Come on, don’t leave me out of the fun. What’s up?” She shuffled around so she was facing him properly, hooking her legs over his thighs and giving him an expectant look.

He sighed, “I-it really is stupid.”

“Good thing stupid is a specialty of mine.”

“It’s about Kaidan.” he specified slowly, watching her face for any signs that he may have crossed a line.

If she had a reaction, he didn’t see it, “Yeah? Is everything alright?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine,” he assured her, “I love Kaidan. It’s just-” he paused, weighing up his words before settling on, “did you know he was attractive? Back when all this started, on the Normandy 1, when you guys had your-” he gestured vaguely, “whatever you had, did you know?”

Shepard looked briefly stunned, before she broke into peals of laughter. It wasn’t a mocking sound, she seemed genuinely delighted by the question, and Garrus felt some of the tension in his body start to leech away. She rested her head against his chest as she laughed and he could feel the sound vibrating through his plates, filling him with a sense of belonging.

“Of course I knew,” she eventually said, when she had finished laughing, “I have eyes, don’t I?”

“See, but I didn’t know!” He countered, “I have eyes.”

“Yes, but you have Turian eyes,” she pointed out, running her hands along his upper arms comfortingly, “you didn’t know I was attractive for most of the time we knew each other and, even after you’d figured it out you weren’t really sure why. Honestly, I would be a little offended if you’d noticed Kaidan’s looks before you noticed mine.”

“I knew you were attractive,” he argued weakly.

She raised her eyebrows, “Garrus, you said my waist looked supportive.”

“It does look supportive!”

“I know,” she laughed again, “but my point is, it’s not weird that you didn’t immediately know that Kaidan was hot. Humans are different from Turians, we see different things when we look at one another.”

“That’s my point,” Garrus continued, “I feel stupid for not knowing. I thought I understood this whole Human-Turian interspecies thing, but now all of a sudden Kaidan Alenko is the most attractive man anyone’s ever seen and it’s like I’m back at zero.”

The look Shepard gave him was painfully knowing and Garrus was faced, once again, with how well she understood him, how effortlessly she had always been able to cut through his crap and get straight to the heart of how he was feeling. It made him feel vulnerable and exposed, but in a good way, in a way he had never thought to experience before they met.

“Are you…” she started, taking a breath to consider her words before continuing, “Garrus, are you feeling insecure?”

If he could have blushed, he would have.

“I-maybe.” He admitted, “I don’t know. I just-if you were Turian, I would know where we stood. There are rules to these things, you know? There are things you do and things you don’t do, things both people know without needing to say it. It’s simple.”

“And we’re not simple.” she finished, sounding just the slightest bit sad.

“No, no that’s not what I meant,” he quickly replied, giving her waist a gentle squeeze, “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

“I can’t help that I’m not Turian, Garrus,” she said, definitely sad now.

“Shep-” he started, wishing he had his sister’s gift for always saying the right thing, “What I’m trying to get at is that I thought I knew the rules, but learning that I missed something as simple as Kaidan being attractive…” he sighed, “it makes me worry that there are other things I’ve missed. That’s all.”

She thought for a moment, “Things about me and Kaidan, or things about humans in general?”

“Both,” he replied, relieved that he seemed to have redeemed himself from the Turian comment, “things about us, mostly.”

“Alright,” she said, giving him a smile, “then ask.”

He grumbled something unintelligible and pulled her close, burying his head in her neck again and breathing in her comforting smell.

“I don’t know what I’m allowed to ask,” he admitted, “the rules-”

“Since when does the Garrus Vakarian care about following rules?” Shepard replied, gently detangling their bodies and forcing him to meet her eyes.

“I want to do this right, Shepard.” he said, his voice small and vulnerable, “Some things are too important to mess around with. You are one of those things.”

Shepard’s face softened and she reached up to cup his mandible, ghosting her thumb across the mangled scar that covered so much of the right side of his face. He nuzzled her hand, sighing with pleasure at the familiar touch. He was surprised by how frayed he felt. It seemed that the war was taking its toll.

“Okay, how about this,” Shepard started, “no rules. We get to ask whatever we want, whenever we want to. Nothing’s off limits, that sound good?”

He nodded, “Sounds good, commander.”

She rolled her eyes fondly, “So, what do you want to know, soldier?”

His heart fluttered in his chest, but he tried not to let it show, “You and Kaidan. We’ve never really talked about what happened there.”

“Nothing really happened,” She shrugged, trying to look nonchalant but failing to completely cover up the brief flash of hurt the admission brought on, “there was a second where it seemed like something might happen, but then the second passed. He was-he is someone who I care a lot about and whose opinion matters to me, maybe more than it should, but in terms of having any sort of relationship, no it never happened.”

“Alright,” Garrus replied, “and you’re totally sure he was attractive the whole time?”

Shepard laughed, “Yes, Garrus. He’s no you, but Kaidan was indeed attractive the whole time.”

“Ohhh, so I’m more attractive than Kaidan, that’s good to know,” he teased.

“Damn right you are,” she teased back.

He chuckled and the tension shattered, leaving only comfortable closeness in its wake. It was embarrassing to admit that he was a little relieved to hear that the rumors about Kaidan and Shepard were overblown. He had never claimed to be a mature, well adjusted adult. When it came to Shepard he was greedy. He was selfish. He wanted all of her. He wanted to be the only man she was thinking about, the only one who got to touch her, kiss her, hold her. He wanted to know that she yearned for him like he yearned for her. He wanted to be completely owned, and to own completely, not that he would ever admit that. He was at least smart enough to know that telling the woman he was sleeping with that she had completely ruined him for other women, that he thought he was probably going to spend the rest of his life following her into hell and that he was hers for as long as she would have him would probably scare her off. There would be time for that, he promised himself. Years and years and years worth. They just had to make it through this war first.

“Do you ever actually wish I was Turian?” Shepard asked, avoiding meeting his gaze in favor of watching her own hands as they traced the plating of his collar bone.

Garrus felt a flicker of protectiveness in his chest, and a wash of guilt. She always seemed to be secure, so infalible, so completely sure of herself that it had honestly never occurred to him that she might have worries of her own.

“Shepard-”

“I can’t eat your food. If our translators broke I would be physically incapable of ever speaking your language. I have to take antihistamines whenever we make out. I am literally the physical opposite of everything you should find attractive. I-”

“That particular knife cuts both ways, Shepard,” he pointed out gently, covering her hand with his.

She gave him a rueful smile, “Yes, but I know how I feel, Garrus. You’re the unknown quantity here.”

That almost made him laugh. He would have laughed, actually, if it wasn’t so obvious that she was serious. His commander. His commander. How could she ever-? Wasn’t it clear? Garrus Vakarian was built for devotion and somewhere along the way he had decided that she was who he was devoted to. Everyone in the galaxy knew that. Apparently, everyone but Shepard herself.

He took her hands in his, bringing them up to his mouth plate and pressing kisses to the tips of each of her fingers. This kind of tenderness was still new to him. Before Shepard his love life had been mostly casual, usually short lived and always brutal. He and his partners would tear at one another. Every kiss and touch was a battle for territory. They had sex like they were chasing one another’s attrition.

With Shepard…

“When you died,” he started, forcing down the rush of grief that remembering that time always brought up, “I tried to move on, like everyone else did. I went back to C-Sec, I started up the job again, I did the grief counseling, I called my family twice a week.” he shook his head, “None of it worked. It felt like I was sleepwalking, just going through the motions, day by day, waiting for you to walk through the door and tell me it was all some kind of big joke.”

“Garrus-”

“I lost everything when I lost you,” he continued, his voice shaking, “everything and, when you found me on Omega, I swore to myself that I would never let you slip through my fingers again. So, no, I don’t ever really wish you were Turian, Shepard. I don’t care that you have a larynx instead of a syrinx, or that we can’t share food. I wouldn’t care if you got transformed into a Hanar. So long as you’re still breathing, so long as I still get to live in a galaxy with you in it, I’m happy.”

“Even if-”

“Even then,” he interrupted.

She scoffed and gave him an incredulous, if slightly pleased, look, “You didn’t hear what I was going to say.”

“It doesn’t matter. Do you ever wish I was human?”

She shook her head, “Never.”

“Then that’s what matters.” he assured her, pulling her up onto his lap so she was straddling him, “Well, that and you finding me more attractive than Kaidan, of course.”

She chuckled and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his. Shepard kissed him like she always did; slowly, with unhurried focus, like she was savoring every second of contact, like they had all the time in the universe and there was nothing else she would ever want to do.

It drove him mad.

Months ago, when he’d first kissed her, he couldn’t stand it. Kissing had always been secondary at best to Garrus, something that previewed the main attraction but could easily be skipped if one was short on time. It felt cruel, torturous, arrogant even, to move so slowly when every nerve in his body was urging him forward. He chased brutality. He chased force. He wanted passion that burned like a bushfire. He wanted heat and pain. He wanted a moment of connection, a peak of white hot desire followed immediately by that release of tension. Like with everything else in his life, Shepard had changed that. Being with her meant that desire never really burned out. It was always simmering just beneath the surface, ready to be stoked into a blaze at the slightest touch. She moved like magma. She never followed the path of least resistance but still destroyed everything in her wake. She was intentional about every touch, every sigh, every roll of her body against his. She forced him to be present, to be with her in the moment, to feel everything with a bright new intensity. It was agony, but it was the sweetest agony he had ever experienced.

Now he took every chance he could to kiss her and, as he felt the familiar scrape of her nails against his neck sending shocks of pleasure through his chest and directly into his lower stomach, he couldn’t help but reflect on how goddamn lucky he was. He was a screw up, a failed C-Sec agent, a failed vigilante with a fucked up face, but he had this woman, this incomparable woman, so who the fuck cared?

“You smell like me,” he said breathlessly as he broke the kiss and moved his mouth down the column of her throat.

He let his fangs scrape against her jugular just enough to make her groan and roll her hips against him and he felt himself hardening beneath his plates.

“What?” she asked with a shaky, strung out laugh.

“You. Smell. Like. Me.” he repeated, punctuating each word with a kiss placed along her collarbone, “Pheromone transfer. It’s all over you. I thought you should know.” He bit down on the skin of her shoulder, holding her still as he bucked his hips up into her and sighed at the delicious friction.

She moaned something that was half ‘god’ and half ‘Garrus’ as he dragged the thin strap of her tank top off her shoulder with his teeth. Spirits, he was grateful for how much she loved his teeth.

“O-okay,” she replied between whimpers, “does-is that a bad thing?”

He shook his head, sliding his hands beneath her shirt and pressing the curve of his talons into the soft skin beside her hip bones.

“I love it,” he admitted, “it drives me crazy. It does mean every person with an even half decent sense of smell knows we’re fucking though.”

She laughed, rolling her hips into his again, “Do you smell like me?”

He growled against her throat, “Oh yeah. That makes me crazy too.”

“So, everytime we go to Tuchanka, or pass some Turian C-Sec officer-” she replied breathlessly.

“Mmhmm,” he agreed.

“And the primarch?”

“Definitely,” he groaned.

Garrus felt the exact moment that her resolve shattered. She grabbed his face with a whimper, pulling him up and kissing him hard. She was still intentional, still magnetic and inevitable but now he could taste her need, could feel her body screaming for him, finally reaching the end of her enviable patience.

Spirits, he loved when she was like this.

He loved her when she was like this.

He loved-

“Commander, Admiral Hackett is on the comm system for you.”

He was going to smash that damn AI.

[atoastbw]

I commissioned semains for this glorious smutty scene from my favourite chapter from my Mshenko Tattoo Parlour/Flower Shop AU fic, The Stars and Infinity on High, and it turned out so damn good! Look at all the details and everything!

Had to crop because of Tumblr guidelines, but full *spicy* version is here and the non-tattooed version is here!

You can read the fic on Ao3 here! The full pic is there too, but you'll have to get to Chapter 7 to see it ;)

[hyperions-light]

Hello it is 12/21/2024 and it is BW fic comments Saturday again!

How it works:

Reblog this post with a link to your fic (or a fic you think is underrated) from the DA or ME fandoms (you could do the others, too, but I’m not as familiar with KOTOR, JE, BG, Anthem, etc)

I will reblog your rb so people can see it

I will go and read your fic

I will leave you a comment (my username on AO3 is flyiing_giraffe, comments come from there)

I start with whoever posts first, and go down the list from there

In the interest of fairness, I read the first chapter of all multi-chapter works

It will likely take several days to get through everyone. I appreciate your patience!

Rules (more like guidelines):

You can send all pairings and any rating, but if you are sending explicit stuff please lmk (esp if it’s not housed on AO3)

If you already did this and want to send the same one again, go ahead (I think you should promote your stuff!) but I will prioritize comments for fics I haven’t read yet (I’m probably not going to comment a second time on oneshots, sorry)

I am happy to reblog any fic posts you have throughout the week, but please link them in your rb for the sake of convenience

This post is going up at 12:00 p.m. MST and you can continue to submit until midnight MST.

Thanks for sharing your work!

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

GARRUS VAKARIAN is a “waist guy.” At first you thought he misunderstood your question. It was light-heartedly put, but obviously held ulterior motive as a flirt when you asked: “Ass or tits, Vakarian?” It’s a common question, and you like to trip him up. He eyed you curiously, neurons firing behind his eyes as he walked himself through your inquiry, mandibles parted in shock. Until he responds, “Waist, I think.” A comical smile stretches your lips. He stands a little straighter. “Yes, waists.” he reiterates, confident. Asses or tits on turians… well, there’s not much to look at. Thighs are fairly popular, but not his cup of tea. Waists are his speed. “Good handles, look good in clothes, look good out of clothes. Can’t go wrong.” He nods to himself and gets back to work while you quirk your brow at him and tap your foot next to his, only to stroke the tip of it up his calf. He blinks, and glances at you curiously. Somehow, you found his answer endearing, and he thanks his lucky stars someone like you is into him.

[thatwildwolfwrites]

—in which turians gossip.

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's youngest?

His son? Yeah. Apparently he got detention again. It's the fifth time this week. I don't know why that child keeps talking back. It's like he has no respect for authority.

Well, they'll beat that out of him at bootcamp. He'll fall in line eventually.

Why can't he just be normal? All the other kids his age understand this already. Maybe something's wrong with him...

I wonder. He's not growing up into a good turian... Poor Castis.

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son?

--

Yes. What a waste. I heard he ranked at the very top in all sharpshooting and hand to hand combat tests... and all of that for nothing.

What's wrong with him? 

He will never make a good turian.

Spirits, poor Castis. First the accident, and now that son of his...

--

What about his son? I thought he was normal now. Didn't he find a job, outside the military?

He did. Citadel Security, like his father. Easier outlet for that... passion of his. You know. All that talk of justice and right and wrong... Castis hoped working at C-Sec would help him get it out of his system. Start being normal. Maybe he would finally burn through that... energy.

Did it work?

He's constantly fighting with his superiors. Disobeying orders. Questioning their judgement. I hear he's just as much trouble out there as he ever was down here.

I don't envy Castis right now. Hearing about your son constantly failing at the job you excelled at... It's got to do something to you.

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son? I heard he actually quit C-Sec now. Couldn't even conform to that. Now he's left the Citadel on a whim, with some human, on an impulse...

--

Poor Castis.

Poor Castis.

I heard Castis Vakarian's son was part of that mess at the Citadel, with the geth.

--

Apparently he's aiming to be a Spectre now. I don't know how his father is going to take that.

I wouldn't want to be in his plates right now.

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son? He dropped out of the Spectre training program.

--

Have you heard? He's gone mad.

I heard he finally snapped. Had some sort of identity crisis, left spirits know where without saying anything.

I suppose it was always a matter of time. There's always been something wrong with that boy. Still, his poor family...

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son? 

--

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian? Yeah, he has kis kids staying over.

I heard. Just when you think it couldn't get any worse. Working with a terrorist organisation. Human supremacists, too... I can't imagine what his father's going through right now.

--

I heard it's a difficult family situation, yes. The mother's dying, and he... At least he still has his daughter, not like that good for nothing son of his.

Have you seen him? What a disgrace. Half his body covered in scars like that. Wearing his failures right on his face... His family must be so ashamed.

Heard he's saying he's fallen in love with an alien. A human of all species. 

Disgusting.

That's just adding insult to injury. His poor family.

Poor Castis.

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian's son?

--

Isn't he the one in charge of that refugee camp on the Citadel? Who even decided to put him in a leadership role?

I don't know. I heard he's friends with the new Primarch. I heard he failed upwards. I heard he's in an important position now, in charge of helping with that war summit.

This damn war. They'll promote anyone as long as they're still alive.

--

--

--

Have you seen? Commander Shepard's written a private account about the Reaper War. Have you read this? 

--

Incredible.

Heartwarming.

Inspiring.

Unbelievable.

Beautiful.

She wrote about Garrus Vakarian.

They were close. He was her lieutenant. Her closest aide. Her best friend.

He held her up when she stumbled. He asked her to take care of herself. He checked in with her. He cared. When everyone else saw the Commander, he was the only one who saw a person. He was the only one who asked how she was doing. He was the only one who supported her.

She wrote about everything he did for her.

He's the only reason she had the strength to win that war.

He saved the world.

--

--

Have you heard about Castis Vakarian?

--

You mean Garrus Vakarian's father? Yeah. I heard. He must be so proud.

[messydiabolical]

Artwork for the incredible ❤ @griffamene ❤ featuring Thane's special outfit from the fic 'Bait and Switch' Warning!!! Heavy topics in this fic folks, heed the tags. Sadomasochism of many varieties be in here, not of the safe and sane variety. Hard E. Brighter version of the piece, and zoom ins and some of the progress shots, below the cut!

Brightened up for dark screens:

detail boxes version:

sketch and line art.

[lilmissnatcat24]

Garrus couldn’t get enough of her. He surged forward, her back making contact with the seat as his hands greedily held onto her waist, squeezing tightly. Her fingers danced up his arms, on his face, to his neck, around his waist. All of it , he wanted to say. Take all of it. It’s yours. It’s always been yours. 

HUGE shoutout to the FANTASTIC @tightassets who did such an amazing job with the art for this year's big bang!!!!

[yuukian-aurorerose]

If the Stars Could Speak - DARKofNIGHT

MASS EFFECT | SHAKARIAN

Art by @wei723

Fic by @sombredelanuit

End page art - Denouement by eddy-shinjuku

[oediex]

Were you devastated by the Mass Effect Trilogy or are you normal

[thedissonantverses]

Writing Challenge

Alright now that I was both sincere and pedantic(warned y’all I’m almost always both) here’s your writing challenge for the day. Don’t forget there’s no time limit to these, if you find it in a month I’ll still reblog it. I’ll take pretty much any BW fic not just DA. Reblog, tag, or link me!! My ask box is always open as are my DM’s! Without further ado:

I want flirty dialogue without physical touch OR flirty touch without dialogue.

OR OR

If romance like that isn’t your thing I want angst. Give me the longing. Give me the hurt/comfort. I yearn for yearning. Emotional distress???? I love that shit. I’m leaving this one wide open. Bonus points if you manage both categories. Look for mine later.

[spectre-requisitions-exchange]

THE SPECTRE REQUISITIONS RARE PAIR EXCHANGE RETURNS FOR 2025

Are you a rare pair shipper? Do you love those pairings that canon never supplied? Or maybe you’re just good ol’ shipping trash who loves to ship almost EVERYONE in the Mass Effect universe? Then boy do we have good news for you!

The Spectre Requisitions Rare Pair Exchange is here!  We’re a rare pair fanart and fanfiction exchange that’s open for the Mass Effect Trilogy and Mass Effect Andromeda. Whether you started with the original Mass Effect or got into the series through Andromeda or the remaster; whether you favor gen and platonic or threesomes and moresomes -- we want you to join us! Mark the dates on your calendar and get those thinking caps on for nominations!

If you’re not already in the Discord, come join us! It’s open year-round for all your rare pair needs.

2025 SCHEDULE

Nominations begin: January 16 Nominations end: January 23 Signup begins: January 25 Signup ends: February 8 Assignments: February 11 (at latest) Assignments due: March 23 Assignment reveal: March 30 Creator reveal: April 6

Watch this space for a guide to nominations! We can't wait to see what rare relationship goodness you come up with this year!

[blueraith]

What does fanfiction mean to you?

I'm asking this question because today I came across some ugly, mean-spirited, catty behavior towards a fic author that I haven't seen in a very, very long time, and I think it's important we discuss it as a community.

Y'all know how long I've been doing this? Fanfiction, that is.

Eighteen years.

I've posted across different platforms, on different handles, in different ways for a long, long time. More than half of my life at this point, from fourteen years old.

Fanfiction is how I personally engage with fandom the most. It's THE most important thing to me, frankly, because it is the common thread between each and every single fandom I have ever participated in.

It's self-expression to me. Folk art. Collaborative and fun. I truly hope that most people who engage in fanfiction learn what it is to beta for someone even if you don't write yourself. It can be a fantastic experience in and of itself. Being the backboard to someone else's ideas, watching as they take genuine joy out of spinning a story together to put onto the page, seeing it come to life before anyone else and feeling almost as proud as the author themselves after they finally post it.

It's ultimately why I decided to make this post far more positive and productive than the angry, grumpy, blood boiling rant that I initially was churning over in my mind after the horrible posts I saw earlier.

I'll detail them here purely for context because I think it's important to recognize toxic fandom behavior when we see it. And speak out when we stumble across it.

The first post lauded itself as an 'honest review' of a popular fanfiction in a community I am a part of. That honest review was nothing more than a pop-critique filled with a sort of catty, snarky write up that is so popular nowadays online purely to gain clout more than to act as actual, constructive criticism. It was unnecessary and acted as though the fanfiction author was a professional, New York Times Bestseller rather than someone devoting hours of their free time and effort into a hobby that is ultimately meant to be fun and pleasant.

The second post by the same person claimed that their friend had challenged them to write their own version of the premise of this fanfiction under a read more cut. It spent some time applying a thin veneer of so-called respect to the original author, but was merely nothing more than contempt really. I simply fail to see the need to ever do this while publicly attaching an author's name and work title and arrogantly parade your own work as superior to their own. Why tear down someone else?

I pushed back against them directly on this post, they took it down, but not before childishly trying to excuse their actions and claiming that 'if someone is publicly posting, then they should be able to handle vocal criticism.'

But you know what? One, what that person was doing was not constructive criticism. I think back to the beta session I had with a friend right after this incident and I think to myself, how sad must it be that this is what this person thinks is valuable criticism. That this is the way they chose to engage with the fanfiction community and thought they were in the right to do so.

Two, and perhaps even more importantly, people are accountable for the things that they post. The things that they say. It would have cost this person nothing to never make those posts in the first place. To never risk an author coming across a mean-spirited and malicious teardown of the work they put hours into and risk harming their self-esteem, mental health, or confidence in their own writing.

Because we do not know who these people are behind their handles. We do not know if they're new to writing. If they are experienced but going through a tough time. There are real people who write the content you choose to consume.

Fanfiction is a collaborative process. Writers provide the free content, and it is the reader's responsibility to know when their input would be valuable.

Is what you have to say helpful? Is it kind? Is it necessary?

If the feedback you want to provide does not hit at least two of those things, what you have to say does not matter. Period.

And I daresay that in the vast majority of cases, kindness should be considered mandatory out of the three.

In return, writers will often throw in ideas they've read out of reviews, they'll reach out to their most ardent followers for things like beta-ing or joining a discord server nowadays. There's always been a give and take in this community.

Fanfiction is a cornerstone of fandom for a reason. And it is particularly important in the queer community, going all the way back to actual physical magazines in which people mailed in their KirkxSpock fic decades ago. Over time we've experimented on the process, moved to countless different platforms, survived collapses of all sorts of communities, only to rally over and over again around each other to be able to tell the tales we wanted to see but were not getting as queer folk amongst mainstream media.

And in that time, it's been long agreed on in this space that you do not tear down another writer to build yourself up. Ever. Period. This has long been the only thing in fanfiction that has been aggressively policed, called out, and nipped in the bud when experienced members of this community come across it.

It will not be tolerated.

I shouldn't have to make this post, but I suppose this is the changing of the guard, so to speak. We have a new generation of fic writers and readers coming into the space daily and while so many of you are wonderful, creative, and welcomed members of this space that has been here long before me or anyone of my age, there are some who do not know how to act in the fanfiction community.

And it is up to us to make it clear in no uncertain terms that they will need to either get with program or be pushed out.

To become the best version of yourself as a writer requires hours of work, of posting again and again, of experimentation, of putting hints of your own life and experiences onto the page. The vast majority of us will never be published, and that's just fine for most of us. We engage in this hobby because of how joyful it can be to write something dear to our hearts, share it with the world, and be validated that others enjoyed the work that we put in.

Frankly, readers will always owe it to us to respect that process and work. To be respectful and kind when interacting with authors. Constructive criticism can be welcomed but perhaps ask if the author is open to it and do not take it personally if they are not. And if they are, then learn how to give it with the writer's best interest in mind rather than your own ego.

I don't ordinarily request reblogs to my posts, I rant into the void and it doesn't matter to me if anyone really interacts on an ordinary day lol. But today, I want to ask that people share this message out in your fandoms, because I will be tagging it in the fandoms I interacted in, both past and present. Because fanfiction is a common thread that unites so many of us, and I think this is an important reminder on how we need to be respectful and kind to one another in this space.

If you feel comfortable, I would also love to hear how fanfiction is important to you. How you got into it. Why you love to either read, write, or beta it.

This is hobby that is meant to be fun, so let's have fun.