#smooth garrus very smooth

[swaps55]

@jdijwa-blog replied to this post:

Well thats funny. I was thinking about asking at what point did they marry seeing as other one shots mentioned they did. But more importantly: who proposed first? Was there a "proper" proposal or was Sam all like 'screw this let's get married'?

I am so glad you asked.

It's absolutely spur of the moment, late ME3 but before the final push.

It's starts as a joke. Sometime between Virmire and the inquest, once Kaidan has confessed to Joker and they have another late night, "pretend we never spoke about this" conversation, Joker says something along the lines of, "If you'd just get over yourself and tell him I will get ordained right now so you can put us all out of our misery."

He makes good on his threat. Only the organization he gets ordained through is a hanar religious order. (This bit is thanks to @shadesofmauve's hilariously brilliant idea.) He thinks it's just bog-standard human-style 'get ordained online' bullshit - legal but not, you know. Important.

Only an alien has never done this with the hanar, and guess what, they take it very seriously. He gets newsletters. They send him vestments. They assign him a personal attache who regularly reaches out to him. He's not enough of an asshole to cop to the whole thing being a threat joke, so he goes along with it.

Kaidan, however, doesn't budge, so at first it is all for naught.

During the events of ME3, I think Sam gets pretty worked up as he starts to internalize the fact that Kaidan grieved him for two years more or less in silence - almost no one knew about their relationship. And he doesn't like the thought of dying without it written in stone. If Sam is going to be immortalized in the history books, he wants Kaidan's name next to his.

I think he finally voices this aloud, lamenting that there isn't time to make anything official.

Kaidan: Uh. I might...have something for this. Joker, are you still ordained with the hanar?

Joker, whose moment has finally arrived: Let me get my hat.

There are three witnesses: Liara, Tali, and Garrus. They told no one else at the time. It only occurs to them later that neither Sam nor Kaidan actually proposed. They just...did it.

The hanar are thrilled when Joker files the paperwork. Commander Shepard got married through their order. There are posters. Brochures. I bet James Vega finds out via advertisement on the Citadel. Neither Sam nor Kaidan are thrilled, but they put up with it.

After the war they do it more properly. There is a ceremony at the orchard that is meant to be small, but the krogan get involved. It's entirely possible Sam winds up at the altar dripping wet because there was a spur of the moment aquatic rescue of a baby krogan who jumped in the lake.

The wedding nearly creates an international incident with the hanar when they learn Guthra Tulak is presiding, but Joker smooths it over.

[sol-consort]

Protocols - Kaidan

[Heavy smut, choking, facesitting, bdsm undertones, use of military titles in bed, sub Kaidan, dom Reader, power bottom reader, gentle end, AFAB!reader, femshep]

Kaidan helps his commander manager her anger in more healthy ways that involve you sitting on his face.

There was only so much noise the walls of the Normandy ship could muffle.

It came to no one's surprise when their commander's voice grew louder and louder. A powerful yell after another as the heated argument between you and the ambassador of humanity went on in the comm room.

Your crew have witnessed you keep your cool even during the most panic-inducing situations, hold your tongue against the most scummy of people as you diplomatically sway them to your side.

They haven't seen you snap this way, not in so long, at least. The last time it happened, Captain Anderson was still in charge, and he swiftly resolved it. 

After all, there was only a single man in this galaxy that commander Shepard would ever bow to.

Yet, they'd be lying if they said they hadn't seen it coming, you despised people like the ambassador and he never understood the concept of taking a step without crushing someone's toes while looking them in the eyes.

The clash between you two was never a matter of if, but a matter of when.

Kaidan just never expected it to happen so soon after the defeat of Saren. He thought politicians were meant to be smart, so why would Udina keep holding this grudge even after Anderson was appointed to the council.

Was the only report you've given anyone when you came back from your most recent council meeting, Garrus and Liara toeing carefully behind you with their tails tucked behind their legs, walking on eggshells around this new side of humanity they witnessed today.

“That son of a bitch stabbed me in the back, lieutenant, no one crosses me and lives to tell the tale. No One.”

Storming your way to the helm of the ship next, your hand slammed down against the smooth surface of the deck as your presence demanded attention. “Patch me through to the human embassy, Joker.”

“Uh…commander, do you wanna go for a walk before that? Take up yoga, maybe? I've heard it does wonders for the-” Joker's failed attempt at humour was put to an end as he met your stern eyes.

“Do I have to repeat my command, pilot?” 

He didn't seem phased by your temper, more bored with having to play military officials for a while. “No, ma’am. Patching you through, ma'am.”

You disappeared into the comm room afterwards, and the screaming match followed shortly as the ambassador connected to the line. 

By that time, Kaiden had already gone back to his usual station below the navigation deck.

If traces of your wrath managed to trickle down to the lower decks, Kaiden could only imagine what the upper decks are going through right now, wondering if anyone will get any sleep tonight.

But you see, that's where the benefits of having a crew you're very acclimated with shine through. Captain Anderson was never known for his lack of temper either, just like captain like commander.

Although some of the newer recruits are probably lost on what to do, why is everyone treating what seems like an unusual anomaly as a slight change in the weather. Some are nervous, others indifferent, while some approving, most likely Ashley. if it was up to her, she would hold down the ambassador for you to lay the punches on, only if you'd only say the word.

Kaidan was fidgeting with the computer screen just behind the railings, leading to the sleep pods. opening and closing apps, checking the task manager just to stare at the cpu going up and down with every action he performed, you know what people do when they want to look like they're busy, when something is clearly distracting them.

Or a specific someone, in this case.

Old habits die hard, he thought he outgrow his juvenile's self affinity for certain military themed erotica sites that held less than ideal videos about just how…adventurous and…authoritarian military women tended to be.

He tried really hard, you never made it easy with your low voice ordering him to come close by, the various times you've lifted someone up by their throat with a single arm just to threaten their whole existence, the weapons attached to your back bringing attention to your god-like sculpted body under that skin tight shiny armour.

God, even the specific manufacturer of your armour had a branch where they made latex replicas for the use of the general public when it came to certain private hobbies.

He is thirty two, he thought he left those youthful lustful fantasies back in his twenties and yet they're creeping back from under his skin with each yell of your voice, each audible slam of your hands down on a hard surface, each time a curse word slipped past your diplomacy painted lips that usually held nothing but honeyed smooth promises of help, strumming the heroics lyre like it was your second nature.

Why did your voice have to sound so hot throwing insults at people who outrank you? 

Oh how much he'd kill just to be a fly on that wall, witness your wrath first hand in all of its glory, hope he may never end up on the receiving end whilst wishing you'd bear your fangs over more people to keep them in line.

He's too lost in the fantasy of you standing over him, boot against his chest as you push him onto the ground. Eyes filled with fury, ordering him to strip.

Would it be corny to imagine a whip in your other hand? Well, it's his imagination. He deserves to get a little self-indulgent, no matter how corny it might be. 

Your sweat makes your hair stick to your forehead as you crack the whip just next to his face, sending a shiver down his spine as a small cut forms on the side of his cheek. Kaidan wonders if you'd bend down to his level and lick the blood droplets away before crashing your mouth into his mouth, teeth, and all tugging at his lips.

Or maybe you'd press your thumb painfully against his cut until it burns, making him hiss in pain while resisting the urge to pull away from the hand cupping his cheek, arousal drowning out the pain as you coo at him for being such a good boy for his commander, a perfect soldier toy for you to use however you see fit.

This is tethering dangerous territory, the Normandy crew uniform isn't the most subtle when it came to hiding the slowly rising heat between his legs and Kaidan fears what would happen if someone happened to be walking by.

“Lieutenant.” 

it takes him some seconds to register that your voice came from the outside rather than the inside of his brain. Kaidan quickly straightens his posture and turns to face you, hands casually clasped in front of him.

“How can I help you, commander?”

“Cut the act, Alenko, I'm here for you, not for my lieutenant.”

Kaidan's body visibility relaxed as he took a step closer to you, a light chuckle leaving his mouth before he said “you really gave it to Udina up there, huh Shepard, I've never seen you this…active since a long time ago.”

“He got what he deserves. I just hope it was enough to scare him off my back.”

“Me too, Shepard. So, uh, did you need something else. A shoulder to lean on, maybe?.”

“You could say it's something like that.” Your voice dipped in volume, took a sweeter, more smooth tone, one that only Kaidan is ever so familiar with.

His eyes widen slightly, and memory after another of that night, the two of you shared flashes back so quickly he almost swears he could still feel the heat of your skin against his naked body.

Swallowing down, Kaiden resists the urge to bring up the protocol against fraternisation as he tells himself it's okay. The two of you have earned it. Not to mention that you look like you really need it, so maybe it's not so bad to break rules every now and then.

“What…uh, did you have in mind, Shepard?”

“Kaidan” the temptation in your voice made him hold his breath, “how strong is your neck?” The way you cupped his face so gently with the most lustful half lidded look in your eyes.

Okay, who is he fooling? He is the one who desperately needs this. At times, he feels like he needs it more than air, the deep longing echoing in his body, the unfulfilled needs that never get sated no matter how much he tries. It's like you made it impossible for him to find release in anything that doesn't involve him moaning your name with your legs wrapped around him.

-

If someone asked Kaidan how he wished to meet his end, then at the line of duty, protecting the vulnerable would've been his answer on any given normal day.

but currently, nothing could convince him not to throw his life away just for another second between your thighs, another minute of your full weight pressing down on his face and burying his mouth against your aching cunt.

you're grinding down against his nose and harshly riding his face, powerful thighs that walked and ran the terrains of various planets like it was nothing, that held down against the knock-back of every heavy gun you've used, that kept you stable and grounded no matter who your foes were.

Are currently hugging his head, pressing against the side of his face and drowning him. narrowing his vision just to focus on you and your wet dripping heat that he eagerly laps up with every thrust of your hips, tongue chasing to catch every bit of your wetness so it may go down his throat where it belongs.

he has never felt more in his appropriate place in his life, under a powerful woman, tugging his hair and making use of him. not just any woman to boost, but The Commander Shepard, the hero of the human race, the person single handedly responsible for reducing this grown man into a desperate soldier, eager to please his mistress.

Your tight grip against his hair strands only makes him feel more used, pathetic in an addicting way. you could snap his neck in half with your big thighs, and he'd still thank you for it as you dragged him by the hair to the medical wing nearby.

The sound of your moans fill the captain's room, telling him how good of a job he's doing eating you out. Mercilessly fucking back into his face without a care as you test the limits of how resilient your subordinate is. 

Strong hands gripping your thighs, no doubt leaving prints behind as they pull you further down into him as if he just can't get enough of your taste, can't swallow down enough of your wetness. Taking clear pride in the amount of pleasure he's providing by serving under you.

without doing anything, all of your needs are accounted for as one of his hands lets go of your thigh and two fingers rub your clit to match the pace you're grinding down with, releasing in the arch of your back whenever he presses hard against the bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, keep going. Don't you dare stop soldier.” breathlessly you give him the order as your hand pulls harshed against his hair, making his mind melt in a mix of pain and pleasure.

And something about referring to him with a lower title than his rank makes his hips buck in frustration, the room air indifferent against his naked body while his hard cock leaks in neglect.

Using military titles in bed was never his forte, but like everything else you do, you manage to be the exception to every rule known to mankind. 

Suddenly he can't but crave to prove himself to you, remind you that he is your lieutenant and not just another soldier, that he has more authority than most people on this ship just so your eyes may stay looking at him and never wander away. He will be as powerful as you need him to be, and as submissive as you order him to, he will get on his knees every day for you if that's what his commander wishes for.

Just keep him by your side, let him have more of you, take up more of your personal time, and press his lips against your neck. 

He can't wait for shore leave when this routine mission ends. The idea of waking up next to you on a soft bed for once sounds like heaven. He has a nice apartment he will happily take you back to and spoil you rotten, show you just how much of a romantic he can be.

It's just another routine mission.

The way your thighs start quivering and pressing against him harder makes him think you're close, they're almost choking the air out of him but he doesn't pay it any attention and focuses on your own pleasure instead.

Tongue going deeper inside you before sliding out and licking a trail leading to your clit then going inside again, repeating this cycle and making sure he doesn't cut any corners when it comes to eating you out.

With a loud yell of his name, your whole weight finally collapses down on him as you reach your climax. Cutting off his breath and making him swallow down all of your cum and lap it up.

When you eventually pull away and scoot back to sit on his chest instead, you notice the mess you've made of his face. Your wetness staining his mouth and jaw as he looks at you eagerly for how well of a job He had done.

And Kaidan seems to share your relief, noticing how more relaxed he managed to get your body to be, how there is a hint of a smile in the corners of your lips, how all the anger and frustration fizzled out.

A sudden moan is forced out of him when you lean back and grip his aching cock in your hand, giving it a good pump to squeeze out the precum. 

Kaidan bites his lip with desperation in his eyes, silently begging for you to go on. Moaning out a small thank you when you move back until your wet heat is directly above his hard cock.

The head rubbing against your folds, making him lose his mind and use all of his self-control to not just thrust up. He can't even imagine the idea of disobeying you, so he surrenders to your will as you continue to tease and edge his poor throbbing cock.

Thankfully, you seem to be in a good mood, for the next thing he knows is the feeling of your heat fully wrapping around him and taking him inside.

Kaidan clutches the white sheets underneath him, Back arching as your silky insides squeeze His cock for all he's worth. 

“Think you can handle me, Alenko? Or should I go slow?”

you haven't even started yet, and he feels like seconds away from bursting, with a shake of his head, he manages to speak out. “Slow, have mercy, Shepard.”

“You got it, lieutenant.” Your words held more gentleness to them, leaning forward and peppering kisses against the corner of his mouth as your hips moved up and down slowly.

Gently rocking against him and moving at his own pace, Kaiden melted into your kiss and wrapped his arms around your waist. chasing your mouth after you broke the kiss.

Focusing on his neck, you sucked and marked the tender flesh as he squirmed in pleasure underneath you. Keeping the slow pace and waiting for him to give you the signal to go faster.

By the time Kaidan was close, you made sure to hold him tight and against you and let him bury his face in your chest. Strong arms trembling as they hugged you for dear life while you fucked his cock in and out of you.

You felt his cum fill your insides, his release leaking out of you and down his cock as you stayed relentless and kept moving your hips until there was no more for him to give.

Cupping his face, You were met with his lovestruck eyes that stared at you in awe as if you were something phenomenal, as if he has never met a person like you before in his life.

and you let him catch his breath. Slipping his cock from Inside you as he laid back on the bed. 

You got up and headed to the private bathroom in your room, cleaning yourself and bringing a warm towel back to the bed to clean Kaidan with. Rubbing it against his skin gently and wiping off all the sweat, wetness and cum. It will do for now until he could regain his strength for a shower.

Putting your military casual wear back on, you leaned back against your desk as you watched him doze off on your bed. Naked skin glistening and a heat colouring his face.

[vakarianshepard]

N7 Day 2- Reflection

I had several ideas for this; but since the ME2 love theme is called Reflections, I thought I would write my take on the shakarian pre SM scene :)

Garrus POV; ~1.2 k words

The rumble of the engines was the only sound in the battery. Garrus sat on a crate, head bowed. His omni-tool flashed with a new message twice, then went dark again. His shoulders hunched under the weight of his sister’s words. Mom’s treatments weren’t working anymore. Sol was upset, and why wouldn’t she be? Why shouldn’t she be?  Damn it, he thought, I’m just a washed-up vigilante playing Spectre. How can—

He sat there, staring at his feet for several minutes, mind replaying his regrets in vivid color.  Sighing, he straightened up and steeled himself; this was it. He didn’t want to fight with her; not on the way to a likely suicide mission. He shook his head, trying and failing to clear his thoughts. 

“You’re right, Sol,” he typed, “I’m sorry.” 

Her reply was immediate, “No, I’m sorry. Things are rough with Mom, and the salarians are expensive.” 

Garrus felt something twist in his chest, a deep, aching pang of guilt, helplessness; hell, he wasn’t even sure. “I wish I could help,” he replied, feeling woefully inadequate. He wanted to reassure her; he wanted to tell her that he’d come back soon. That he could keep his word this time. But, as the Normandy glided toward her fate, whatever that might be, he couldn’t bring himself to make another empty promise. Instead, he continued, “I’m going on a trip. Might be away from the relays for a while. Tell Mom—tell her I’m thinking of her.” 

Solana answered back with a joke, and he accepted it for the olive branch it was. He promised to call her back when he could; he hoped he would get the chance to. Joker’s voice cut through the ship, “ETA to Omega-4 relay 2 hours,” and he jolted. Damn, that didn’t leave much time to get ready and get to Shepard. He grabbed the bottle of wine he’d picked up on Illium and stopped to examine his reflection. He grimaced at the angry scarring that marred the right side of his face. Months later, it looked better, but he’d only recently gotten the nerve to stop wearing the bandages that covered it. Garrus smoothed his free hand over his tunic one last time, then left the battery, an odd sense of calm washing over him at the prospect of seeing Shepard. 

He could hear her humming as he got off the elevator. At once, he felt the anxiety return, every second of research he’d done flying out of his mind. Crap. Too late to turn back now, he tapped the panel, the door opening to reveal Alexa toweling off her short red hair. She turned as the door opened, a smile breaking across her face, disarming him. His heart skipped a couple beats. 

“Hey there,” she said easily, tossing the towel into the bathroom behind her. 

“Hey. . . I brought wine. Best I could afford on a vigilante’s salary,” he stumbled over his words, trying to regain his cool. “Uh—,” he spotted the stereo control on the wall behind her. Music. That was usually part of this whole. . . stress relief thing. At least in the vid Joker had sent him. He pressed a couple buttons, and terrible pop music started blaring out of the speakers. Wincing internally, he turned back to her, checking for her reaction. She shook her head, smile still in place as she approached him. He soldiered on, feeling more idiotic by the second. 

“Well, if you were a turian, I’d be complimenting your waist, or your fringe. So, uh—your hair looks good, and your waist is. . . very supportive.” Alexa raised her eyebrows, her expression turning bemused. Crap. “Hopefully, that’s not offensive to humans. I knew I should’ve watched the vids. Come on, Shep—” He fell silent as she stepped up into his space, placing a comforting hand on his chest. 

Her tone was light, but her eyes softened as they met his. “Consider me seduced, smooth talker. Shut up and stop worrying,” she teased, “it’s just me.” Alexa sidestepped to shut off the music, and Garrus felt his shoulders sag. 

The weight of the last two years came crashing down: leaving C-sec after her death, Archangel, Sidonis’ betrayal, Shepard’s return, his mom’s health, his conversation with Sol. This new something growing between them. His mind raced, and his heartbeat quickened. He hadn’t even realized how deeply he cared for her until she was gone, until he realized that he would never get to see her smile, or hear her laugh, or tease him ever again. She was gone; better not to think about the depth of that loss. 

Better to throw himself into something he could change, something he could fix.  So he did, until he couldn’t, until he failed, surrounded by the bodies of the people he was supposed to protect. Until Shepard came back from death to save him again, and all that grief and—could he call it love—came rushing back in. Until she brought up “relieving tension” after Sidonis, he hadn’t even allowed himself to call it anything but admiration, friendship.

The weeks since her offer had been strangely peaceful, at least by their standards. As they hurtled ever closer to the suicide mission, they had come together so naturally, without much discussion. He came up to her quarters, or she sat in the battery, working on their reports, spending time in quiet contemplation. Every time she smiled at him, every time her hand brushed his arm, it was overwhelming, exhilarating, and terrifying. Just being near her made him feel both grounded and completely untethered. 

He never imagined, especially after Omega, that there was a chance she could ever—that she would ever see him as anything more than a friend. I should consider myself lucky she even does that, he thought, almost bitterly. His hands trembled, and Alexa gently took the bottle of wine from him, setting it on the desk behind her. He raised his head, finding her still watching him, her face growing serious and concerned. She opened her mouth, about to speak, but he shook his head, cutting her off. “The thing is, I—I’ve just seen so many things go wrong, my work at C-Sec, what happened with Sidonis. I want something to go right. Just once. . .” he trailed off. 

Alexa tilted her head, and he closed his eyes briefly.  He inhaled shakily, as her warm hand cupped his face. “Garrus,” she said softly, her fingertips ghosting across his scars. Emboldened by the fact she hadn’t told him to get the hell out yet, he reached for her, catching her hands in his. She stepped closer, into his arms. “You’ve got me,” she whispered, intertwining her fingers with his, “It’s us. How could it go wrong?” 

She smiled crookedly, and he realized that she was just as nervous as he was. He leaned down, careful, slow enough that she could pull back if she wanted to, and gently rested his head against hers. After a breath, she leaned into him, eyes closed, and he could feel the tension leaching from her body. They stood there for a few moments, fully immersed in each other; the only sound was their breathing and his pounding heartbeat. 

Garrus reached up to caress her face, and Alexa, eyes still closed, turned her cheek into his palm. His chest bloomed with warmth. How could it go wrong, he thought to himself. With Shepard, anything was possible. He didn’t reply, almost afraid to jinx it. For once, as she stretched up to kiss him, as he tilted his head to meet her lips, he let himself believe—if only for a moment—that they might make it. 

[squigglysquidd]

Juxtaposed Snippet

Also called, 'Boy, you're so dense'

Garrus arrives at work in a decently good mood.

It’s not just because he recently completed his first case while shadowing Detective Chellick but for something more personal.

More intimate.

Last night, a new light fell upon Jane and their relationship and he saw another side to his closest friend and confidant.

She let him into the part of herself that she’d locked up.

He knows she keeps her deeper, more intense emotions behind an impenetrable mental wall. He feels privileged to be there with her when those feelings shine through the barrier.

It’s a side of her meant just for him.

It isn’t about the sex, either—if it could really be considered that. More than anything, it’s about them connecting in a way they haven't done before.

They laid bare before one another, explored each other’s bodies, and brought the other to the peak of pleasure.

He should be embarrassed about how fast it ended on his part but he’s never had a sex partner hit so many sensitive places on his body at once.

Her many fingers and mouth were everywhere. Even her voice sunk deep beneath his plates with her moans and sounds of pleasure when he played her body toward ecstasy.

Thinking about it, he can’t believe he lasted as long as he did.

As far as he knows, his people aren’t an overly sensual species.

He could go as far as to say they are very straightforward and utilitarian when it comes to sex. Foreplay is barely that, existing mostly to tease open one another’s plates and relax the males’ sheath to erect. It was a necessity to get to the ‘best part.’

Perhaps, turians having so few erogenous places on their bodies is why they have such stamina for the actual act of sex. It’s hard to gain pleasure from a body covered in plates and their respective genitals are the most sensitive because of the complete lack of any protection.

With humans—or, at least for Jane—it’s a whole experience to tease one another with touches, kisses, and sensations he wouldn't normally associate completely with sex.

He’s not complaining.

He likes it.

Wants more of it.

He’s fond of the smoothness of her skin. He could pull the most interesting—sexual—reactions from her and he still feels like he can unveil so many more of her body’s secrets.

One night just isn’t enough.

Not when he needs to feel that smooth, warmth of her tight channel around his finger. Or how it would flutter or tighten around him as he worked her body.

Her natural musk makes him crave more despite being so different and new to his senses. He wants more. There’s a craving desire to explore the scent of her arousal and her following release in other ways.

Spirits, how he wants to drown in it.

It empowered him in those moments of insecurity about their compatibility.

He never felt so involved, so connected to someone during sex.

It’s never been so intimate.

He doesn't know why he’s so invested in having another chance to come together. Is it because it’s so alien that he has to feed curiosity or because it’s Jane, the one person he’s connected so deeply with?

It can’t be just sex for them. He knows it’s not, even if he’s trying to make sense of what’s developing between them. There’s something else going on with their relationship he can’t quite place but it’s long since passed the point of emotionless, disconnected sex.

[dispatchwithlove]

Hi, friend! I would love to see your take on "#12 Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss" with Jane & Garrus! <3

I'm finally answering this!! I bet you don't even remember sending this ask, lol. Thank you though, this was a fun one to write and I love getting the chance to write Jane and Garrus deep into relationship bliss. Hope you enjoy 😊

It started with a dress. 

Garrus liked when Jane wore clothes that exposed specific bits of her body. His favorites were back, throat, clavicle, waist. In that order. 

So Jane owned quite a few articles of clothing that exposed her back, large cutouts that emphasized the length of her spine, the dimples atop her flanks, the nape of her neck. He flooded affection on her when she wore them, so much that it often got them looks. 

Not that they typically cared. 

On the evening of one of the charity events Val organized, an exhibition held at the Dexiculus Museum of Arts celebrating the human form, Jane decided to have a bit of fun.

While Garrus sat at the end of her bed, she closed the closet door and put on a specific black dress. The collar of the modest sheath top rested at the base of her neck, very boring, really. The back, though, was composed of loose, separate panels that met and overlapped at her spine. Looking at it, it didn’t expose an inch of skin, but Garrus would be able to slip his hand between and beneath to warm his palm on her skin, or tickle her spine with a talon. Only someone closely examining them would notice. 

She didn’t tell him, of course. That was half the fun. Exiting the closet, she met his eye and caught his pout immediately.

“Not impressed?” she asked with a smirk, smoothing down the lace overlay on the A-line skirt that didn’t show off her ass.  

“Expect the museum to be drafty?” His ability to pull off snark and charm in the same breath was a skill. 

Or maybe she just really adored him. She gave him a sympathetic grin, imagining him melting when he discovered the little secret at her back.  

“Careful, mister, you’re acting a bit entitled,” she teased.

“I see it more like a privilege.” He rose from the bed to nuzzle her cheek, then nipped the tip of her nose. 

“Maybe if you’re good,” she pinched his mandible, “you’ll get a nice little surprise later.”

“I’m not a patient man, mela.” Face buried into the curve of her neck, Garrus wrapped his hands around her waist, subvocals rippling for her, and she was afraid later would be sooner than she’d hoped, but she covertly and tactfully patted him away.

“Come on, we’ll be late,” she said. “And the sooner we get there, the sooner you’ll get your surprise.” 

At the museum they made the rounds, talking with Castis and Cyrus (while Cyrus’s entourage of Primarch protectors watched, standing stiffer than the nearby sculptures), then Sol and Liara, then Val before she had to scurry away to greet someone important. They enjoyed some wine with Nihlus and Kasumi. 

An hour in and Garrus had come close to slipping his hand in such a way as to get a feel of her skin, but he never quite made contact. After admiring half the collection of paintings, sculptures, and photography — some bodies twisted in various stages of ecstasy, others flaunting curves and muscles in delicate or strong poses — Jane itched for her own form to be touched. 

Standing beneath Klimt’s Judith and the Head of Holofernes, stuck in Judith’s seductive gaze, Garrus once again rested his hand on Jane’s back. She’d nearly forgotten her secret when his fingertip brushed against her skin, and, finally, a sparkle lit up her spine. A quick breath lifted his chest, and he looked down at her, a gleam in his eye that said “caught you”. She told him with a simple smile that he'd discovered his surprise. 

Mandibles cocked slyly, a single talon teased her spine, whisper soft and indecently seductive in a public place. 

“Were you going to keep that hidden from me all night?” he asked, delighted thunder rolling through his voice. It sounded like a reprimand, he’d meant it to. 

That was all it took, she melted against him, hiding her ear-to-ear grin in his suit sleeve.  

A polite click behind them came from a turian, suggesting they move along, make room for someone else to view the painting; which was fair, since they weren’t even looking at it anymore.

Weaving through the crowd, Garrus’s hand stayed firm, carefully slipped beneath the delicately draping panels, pressed against her skin. 

Standing side-by-side at the feet of a ten-foot-tall sculpture, tucked into a darkened corner where an overhead light flooded from over the statue’s head to light it in a heavenly beam, Jane sighed. “Her ass is better than mine, isn’t it?”

Garrus pretended to examine the statue’s solid, curvaceous posterior. “There’s a realistic quality to it — the lifted curvature of the gluteus medius, the presence of weight in the gluteus maximus—that takes true skill and devotion to the human female form.” He turned to Jane, glanced at her backside with a quirked brow. “But I have to say I’m partial to yours.”

“I’ll pay you a hundred credits to give hers a squeeze.” 

“If I squeeze yours, would I still get the credits?”

She gave him a sultry look, parting her lips just slightly, chin tucking, a flash of heat in her eyes.

“Fine,” he said, looking like a man with suddenly weak knees, “I’ll do it for free.”

Getting exactly the reaction she expected, Jane giggled, her head rolling back as Garrus took her in his arms, guiding her body against his. Heat flushed through her. Thighs to sternum to throat. 

He slid his palm over the curve of her gluteus medius, and then gave her gluteus maximus a fleshy squeeze. 

“Stop, she said, not wanting him to listen. “Someone’ll see.”

Garrus, frustratingly and thankfully, didn’t listen, not really. He pulled her out of the warm cone of overhead light and into the darkened corner. Just as the last inch of their bodies fell into the shadow, he wrapped his hand around her nape, pulled her up on her toes, and kissed her. 

It had only been a few months since she gave him his first kiss, but he was already an expert. His flexing lips pressed to hers, his tongue snuck out to flick at her bottom lip, their warm breaths heated their mouths. His kisses were tender, bruising, and addicting. 

Shrouded in darkness, their lips moved in practiced synchronicity, murmurations delicate and devine. Their hands, though, were frantic and free, tugging at clothing, brushing favored spots. His hips, ass, keel. Her waist, back, hair. Every insistent touch was soothed by the warmth and delicateness of their lips. 

A soft moan rode a breath out of her mouth. His body pressed against hers, a weight she welcomed. Abruptly, his mouth abandoned hers and she almost cried out in protest, but his lips against her earlobe satisfied her need.   

“You’re beautiful, mela,” his words caressed her sensitive ear. He looked down at her, eyes dark with affection.  

He gave her those words so often, and yet sometimes they still caught her off guard. Still, after months together, all of his affection, all of his words and looks and touches, she couldn’t believe they were so happy. His talon brushed her cheek, and she knew she was blushing. 

Jane focused on his suit jacket, pulling at the hem and adjusting the lapel to straighten him up. It was amazing how much damage they could do in just a few seconds. 

“Can I paint you again,” he said as his talon lifted from the tip of her nose. 

Jane smiled. “Another portrait, or were you thinking something more like—” she pointed a thumb back in the direction of the erotic art. 

A little purr kicked off in his chest. She placed her palms at each side of his keel to feel it. 

“Both.” His eyes narrowed, a little mock seriousness in them. “It’s been a long time since I did nudes, though, so I’m afraid it may take a few sessions, till I get the hang of it again. Hope that won’t be a problem.” 

Before she could respond, two people meandered by. Realizing the corner was too dark and the light around the sculpture too bright for others to spot them gave Jane a little electric thrill. 

“Come on.” She took his hand. “We better get back out there before someone notices us.” 

They moved on from the dark corner and the sculpture with the amazing ass. Their next stop was a painting of a woman with full, coiled hair looking back over her shoulder, her nipped waist and wide hips gave a delicate but strong pose. The warmth in her eyes made it seem like she knew the painter intimately, or maybe an amusing secret. Maybe both.  

“Are you going to paint me like this?” Jane asked Garrus with a suggestive brow.

“No.” He paused, eyes following a figure as they walked by. “On your back,” he continued once they were gone. “Spine arched, hands in your hair. Smiling at me, just like you are now.” 

“Nude?”

His slight smile was lascivious to the core. “Of course.”

Jane’s attention only left his piercing gaze quick enough to look at the dark hallway to their left. She took his hand, pulled him past a bright “Staff Only” sign, pulled him further back to a dark spot by a closed door reading “Bathroom”, and kissed him. Less practiced this time, their mouths as frantic and desperate as their hands. 

His mouth nipping at the curve of her neck, she asked, almost breathlessly, “So the dress was a good idea?”

“Terrible.” A moan hissed past his teeth. “I want you out of it. Now.”

Jane glanced at the staff bathroom door, Garrus followed her gaze, and they smiled. 

[magnoliabutters]

ANOTHER ROUTINE MISSION

pairing: commander cat shepard x garrus vakarian

warnings: 18+ content, nsfw, mdni; mass effect trilogy spoilers, post me3, gore, canon divergence, commander choices - 70 paragon, 30 renegade, etc.

word count: ~5.2k

“Can I come out now?” 

The smell of burning bacon pinched at Shepard’s brow. The love of her life could barely cook himself dextro-bacon. She practically has herself dangling off the upstair’s railing. Maybe if she moved just a little bit more to the right, would she be able to catch a glimpse of him in Glyph’s holoface?

“Just a second!”

That dark, timbre of a voice immediately flushes the worry from her body. With him by her side, nothing could ever go wrong. Her Archangel, Garrus. The one good thing in her chaotic world. Her heart still pounds with excitement at the very sight of him. She waits eagerly for whatever surprise is in store for her downstairs, burnt or not. 

Shepard crouches down, tucking her legs between the railing. She kicks her feet at the sound of his energetic humming. She wishes the calm of the storm could stay just a little bit longer. That she could stay in this apartment, snuggled up under his chin for the rest of her existence. 

Alas, no. Those nerves that wrack her soul manifest in the way her fingers pull at the hem of her shorts. How she bites onto her cuticles, causing little cuts and wounds. A bitter show of vulnerability that only he gets to see. 

Whether she liked it or not, Shepard’s mind begins to flow down a whirlwind of unfathomable realities. The thought of the upcoming battle tenses her body in ways she never thought possible. She would much rather worry about burnt breakfast, then Reapers murdering the entire galaxy. 

With a shake of her head, she attempts to pull herself from the deep, winding trail of bad thoughts. Her eyes fall upon the abstract art hanging on the cream colored walls. They appreciate the glow of the overhead light beaming off the metal statue. Appreciate the amusement bouncing in her chest. 

God, what was Anderson thinking? He has an eye for real estate, but she can only imagine that he must have bought this art during the time of his separation. Only a man enduring a midlife crisis would buy and display such gaudy things. 

A tight lipped smile spreads across Shepard’s face. A warmth spreads widely across her chest as she presses a finger against her bottom lip. She is thankful, abundantly thankful that Anderson gave her the apartment - gaudy art and all.

It provided the incredible opportunity of “breaking in” the apartment, per Garrus’ words. Flashes of last night‘s adventures form bubbles in the pit of her stomach. Suffice to say, there wasn’t a surface untouched. Certainly, the two could never give the Admiral his apartment back - not on any terms. 

She will never admit it, but she is thankful for Mordin and Joker. Garrus was definitely the most well versed in interspecies sexual positions. One bottle of dextro-wine and the angel’s smooth talking became smooth ruts against her skin. He always knows exactly where to touch her, where to make her squeal. 

Garrus Vakarian knows exactly how to crack her open like an egg - breaking off that hardened commander of a shell, just to get to the soft Shepard center. He is the light shining brightly through a thick, foggy storm. He guides her back home, no matter where they are - no matter how lost she is. 

“Okay, you better be in that bed,” he calls out in a sing-songy voice. Shepard manages to get a sneak peak of his struggles to balance the plate of food with both hands. His foot carefully lands on each step as he blindly climbs the stairs. “I wasn’t kidding about breakfast in bed.” 

Shepard jumps from her seat, slinking her legs through the railing and rushing back towards their bedroom. She digs her feet into the sheets, leaning effortlessly back onto her pillow. She pulls the blankets up to her waist, trying to really sell the idea of her patiently waiting in bed. 

With a smirk that could kill, Garrus turns the corner with the tray in hand. Her grinning mouth drops open upon the sight of a beauty stemmed rose floating amongst a thin vase. Beside it, a glass filled to the brim with orange juice. The plate holds a perfectly organized buffet of french toast, eggs, and, of course, bacon.

“You shouldn’t have,” Shepard murmurs in excitement as she hikes her shoulders up to her ears. The crimson he loves so much is flush against her cheeks. 

Garrus vibrates his mandibles with a light hum of happiness and accomplishment. He places the tray at the foot of the bed before sitting at your side. The angel places a soft hand at your cheek before whispering, “When this is all done and over with, I promise I will make you breakfast in bed every day.” His other hand reaches for hers, guiding it to rest upon his bare chest. 

“That’s a tall order, Vakarian,” Shepard scoffs as she guides that same hand to her lips. She places the softest of pecks at the back of his palm, holding her loving gaze with his bright blue eyes. “Let’s start with just Sundays.” 

Garrus shakes his head, chuckling to himself. “Only if we have date night on Fridays.” He gently places his forehead against hers. A loving, firm sensation between them. A centering feeling that rids her of any pain, any worry. He is hers and she is his. 

“Just - ” Shepard winces. The agony ripping through her body keeps her from finishing her sentence. Deep breaths in between words keep her pushing, forcing the words out. He needs to hear them. “Just as long as we go dancing.” 

The room is suddenly dark. A red tinted gloom muddied by bright moving flecks of orange and yellow. Confusion consumes her. Filling every nook and cranny. Forcing her to think so quickly, so stressfully. Truly, where the hell is she? 

A sharp ache wracks through her brain. God, it’s unbearable. She can feel her temples pulsating, begging for mercy. This is worse than any pain she’s endured before. But there is no such thing as pain with Garrus… What’s going on?  

Each breath reinforces the idea that her trachea has somehow transformed into sand paper. The noise of the air passing through her lungs closely resembles the nauseating sound of nails being dragged down a chalkboard. 

“Garrus,” Shepard calls out with a hoarse tone. Her voice is nonexistent and barely a whistling tone above the loud booms of the space around her. The last time she lost her voice this bad was when she won big on the Sunset Strip during shore leave. 

She instinctively reaches her hand to her throat, only to have her arm burst with pain at the attempt. Every cell, molecule - every atom of her being hurts. She tries to open her eyes but a harsh pressure holds one closed. The other is blurred as all hell and barely functional. 

Shepard can feel the familiar remnants of blood pooled at her upper lip. Her body sways, barely able to sit up. She is hit by tidal waves of overwhelming sensations. It forces her to press into the debris digging into her back. Her hands are bloodied, holding a puncture wound at her side.

Despite the haze, she manages to look down and assess her right arm. A huge, bloodied gash rips through her forearm. The edges of the abrasion are singed and burnt. She tries her best to ignore the bright, compound fracture of a bone peaking out from behind her tendons. 

A sharp breath in and she picks her head up. She scans the area, searching for any possible exit, any possible way to get back to their bed. Fire and smoke fill the thin corridor. The flames grow and spread across the walls. Metal beams fall from the ceiling, vibrating the ground as they crash. She spots a flickering green glow signing a door at the end of the hallway. 

She is not safe. 

She remembers the Citadel. Saving the galaxy. Destroying the Catalyst. Destroying the very synthetic life she worked so hard to stand for. Destroying the geth … destroying EDI. 

She pushes away the thought of her loss, the loss of her friend. She learned to do that back with the N7. Tough calls. Tough choices. Tough losses, but she doesn’t get to feel it. Not yet. 

With a gut curdling scream, Shepard pushes herself up from the unleveled rubble. Shock spreads across her face as she looks back to see pieces of her armor melted into the ground. She should be dead, disintegrated along with her suit. The academy never really prepared her for the “not dying” part of a suicide mission. 

“Garrus?” her voice carries down the burning corridor. “Liara!” Step after step. Each one increases the chances of her hip bursting on impact. Her body, a valuable and dependable machine, is now shutting down when she needs it the most. 

Hell, it’s given a damn good fight. It deserves the rest.

“Tali!” Shepard uses all of her strength to scream out her friends’ names. She crashes down, landing harshly against her knee and consequently her chin. Tears involuntarily fall, hugging at the surface of her cheeks.

She considers the idea of not standing, of not pushing forward, of not fighting for her life. Fortunately for the galaxy, the endless nagging of a certain handsome turian at heaven’s bar changes her mind. 

The Citadel falls around her, forcing her to pick up her pace. Pieces crumble at her sides and block the central aisle of the corridor. The only way through is over it. 

Shepard struggles to pull herself up onto the debris. The metal and concrete now resemble a scrunched up, used tissue. Yet, somehow she must crawl her invalid self over it. Easy, nothing she hasn’t done before. 

Holding her breath, she places her hands against the sharp rubble. It cuts at her palms, at the bend of her fingers. A single slip up and she lands her hands against the burning ground. 

As she yells in pain, something the size of an asteroid barrels in through the hull of the ship. Given the state of things, she isn’t shocked that the Citadel’s kinetic barriers are down. 

What shocks Shepard is that her Kawashii visor is still functional. With emergency procedures activated, a shield wraps around her face. It gives her the oxygen she most definitely needs from a hull breach. 

Zero gravity floats her off the ground, making every movement abundantly easier. She hurries her movements, swimming through the space and dodging the hovering wreckage. 

A countdown is now ticking louder and louder in the back of her mind. If any more holes wrack through the metal, she surely will be sucked out and that would be the end of Shepard’s story. The story that began about a year ago - before Liara and Cerberus brought her back 

She finally reaches the door. Out of routine, she extends her right arm to hover over the lock. Calcifying aches shoot through her extremities, almost as though she was shot and inertia threw her arm back. 

With a stroke of luck, the door miraculously opens. Shepard raises her eyes with furrowing brows. There she recognizes the salarian spectre, Jondum Bau. Her heart sinks - she made it. 

Bau’s hands reach for hers and pull her through the doorway. She rolls onto her shoulder, grunting with each pulsating ache. His words are quick and quiet, almost as though he is thinking to himself. He seals off the door, burning the metal with his omnitool and causes a makeshift airlock. 

Shepard curls onto her side, gasping for air. Warm blood begins to pool on her left side. She reaches up for the spectre. “Bau, I need you to-'' The pain is unbearable. She has to breathe through gritted teeth just to force herself to sit through the agony. “Call the Alliance. I need-”  She lets out a harsh breath, digging back onto her side as her body screams for her to stop moving. “I need a medevac.” 

Through the reach of her left arm, Shepard twists and lands upon her back. The one hazy eye becomes hazier as she feels her weight sink into the floor. “Yes, Commander,” she hears in her woozy state. Just before the world turns black. 

“Assessing damages, doctor.” 

Shepard can hear the salarian accent thick in their words. The cold metal is pressed against her skin. She feels weightless, as though she can float up into the blinding light above her. She feels cold, the familiar intergalactic cold. They must have cracked open her armor. There would be no other way to get her out. 

“She has third degree burns on eighty-five percent of her body. She has several foreign objects in her left, lower abdomen. Her arm…”

She can hear slow and steady beeps that are easily recognizable from a hospital. Although, she is usually not the patient. 

“Medi-gel, stat!” 

That voice… that voice is familiar. “Yes, doctor.” It is higher pitched and clearly another salarian doctor. It has been some time since she last heard it, but it is a voice she will never forget. 

“Wait,” the unfamiliar voice responds. The mechanic beeping quickens. Her breathing becomes harder and harder to sustain. “She’s having a react-” 

Shepard falls into unconsciousness once again…

[[{{{{////33422>]][[//

“She’s waking up.” 

“Yes, I can see that. Tighten the straps!”

“But what if we need to evacuate?”

Shepard hears a loud, cranking noise. She feels a tightness at her wrists and ankles. Soft moans escape her as she struggles to find consciousness. Suddenly, an alarm blares. It causes a harsh, ringing noise to bounce within her ears’ canals. She winces at the painful sound.

“Get the Dalatrass, now!”

Her eyes open immediately at the name. Her heart begins to race as she slowly understands her newfound reality. She is not in an Alliance hospital, no. She is still not safe. 

Shepard pulls at her restraints, lifting her eyes to the doctor closest to her. All at once, the familiar voice is clear as day. “Maelon,” she whispers with a strain to her voice. The words hurt worse than when she first woke on the remains of the Citadel. 

“Hush now, Commander,” Maelon coos. He places a soft hand at her shoulder. “I have you now.” The words spark adrenaline in her body. She tugs harshly against her restraints, pulling herself from his “comforting” touch. 

“She’s not coming,” a young salarian scientist walks up with worried black eyes. Shepard tears her eyes from Maelon, scanning the area. She recognizes the greenery and nature, almost as though the hull was decorated by Sur’Kesh. Her best bet would be that she is on a Salarian Special Tasks Group ship, which means she is some lab experiment - again. The very last thing one would ever want to be in the presence of a demented doctor. 

Maelon sighs, pressing an inquisitive finger to his lips. “They’re evacuating, doctor. We must go!” his assistant yells. He hums as thoughts run sporadically in his mind. His hands move side to side as he struggles to determine what items to evacuate with. 

Ultimately, his thoughts boil down to an endless calculation of risk. The risk of being caught with the Commander tied to a gurney. To escape before the invaders break down the door. How likely is it that he will make it out of his home planet unharmed? 

“Leave her,” Maelon spits out the words. The younger scientist rushes out without a second thought. The doctor, however, takes his time. He runs a cold, scaled finger down her cheek. A slow smile forms across his cheeks. His eyes blacken as they hover above hers. 

“The Dalatrass sends her regards, Commander.” 

He leans in closer to her. His breath is hot against her skin. “I hope you live long enough to see what I’ve done,” he whispers. As he pulls away, his hand and his presence linger, appreciating his work, before scurrying along with the other evacuating doctors. 

Shepard grinds her teeth, raising her head to watch him run away. She crashes her head back against the firm bed with deep-rooted frustration. Her eyes search for a weapon, for something to get her out from these restraints. A small part of her worries about Maelon’s words, but it rests on the arch of her brow. She has to focus on finding an escape route. 

She has done this once before - waking up in a new place after almost dying. A place that just so happens to be under attack. She wonders how many years have passed this time. 

Red lights flash in tandem with the obnoxious sounding alarm. She pulls at the restraints, practically bruising herself with each attempt. After her third attempt, she spots a sterile tray on her left side. A scalpel, prongs, and a PDA rest upon it. Her fingers stretch, as far as they can, trying to grip onto the scalpel. Her fingertips slice against the blade. 

“God damnit!” Shepard yells as blood drops onto the floor below. 

A whoosh of pressurized air releases. Her head pops up with widened eyes as the laboratory door slides open. It reveals one Lieutenant Vega and Spectre Williams.

Hope washes over Shepard. She lets out a laugh and a sigh of relief that follows her glowing smile. “James, Ash,” she happily exhales. “Get these things off of me.” 

Ash stays calm, cool, and collected. Her face never changes. She remains, as always, all about the mission. Her gun’s sights are right at eyeline until the room was deemed “clear.” Shepard hopes she could take credit for some of that.  

James, however, could not contain his expression. Eyes rake over his commander, assessing her quickly. His brows push together and form a darkened line at its center. His mouth opened, almost as though he was going to greet her, but the words never came out. 

“Vega, get her out of those restraints,” Ash demands with fierceness. Her commanding voice is enough to pull James out of whatever shock he is enduring. “Let me get you out of there, Lola,” he whispers. His smile now slightly present against his hardened lips. 

Shepard pushes the concerning thoughts from her mind. The only thing she cares about is escaping this lab, and, now, to ensure that her comrades get out unscathed. “Here, hook this arm over me,” James instructs as he pulls at her left hand and wraps her arm around his large shoulders. 

He then lifts her body weight, as she primarily leans upon him, before reaching for his pistol. She could feel her legs slipping from beneath her, as though she hadn’t used them in quite some time. “Ready, LT Commander,” he utters, slightly out of breath.  

Ash nods before opening the door. She leads with her assault rifle, ensuring the hallway remains clear before moving the commander forward. “Clear.” She guides the trio to the left and onto a glass bridgeway. 

Shepard gawks over the tropical forest beauty of the Sur’Kesh-turned ship. It’s just as gorgeous as the last time she saw the planet. How did they manage to turn the ship into this? More importantly, why? Almost as though the Reapers had never made their appearance in the Annos Basin.

At the end of the bridge, two salarian soldiers raise their rifles at Williams. They are quickly put down and forgotten by the Alliance squad. James struggles to raise his pistol toward the threats, prompting Shepard to act. 

“I can shoot, Vega,” she whispers. “Hand it over.” She crosses her right arm over her chest. The movement freezes her entire body, forcing a yell from her lack-lustered lungs. She almost slips from his grasp. 

How could her arm still be in so much pain? 

Upon hearing her scream, Ash turns back and reveals the tiniest glimpse of concern across her face. She quickly returns to her sights, but listens out behind her. “You ok, Lola?” James asks, tightening his grip onto the commander. 

“How long’s it been, James?” Shepard whispers. He keeps his head forward, pushing on with Ash’s lead. She shoots a hot breath through her flared nostrils. Did he really think that his commander could be ignored? 

“Lieutenant!” The commander directs all of her strength to pull her old N7 staff sergeant voice out. “How long?”

James and Ash exchange looks. Another thing that boils Shepard’s blood. “Ten months, Commander,” Williams answers with a tight lip. Three months and Shepard is still in pain? Was she ever given medi-gel? 

What the hell happened? 

Ash presses two fingers to her ear. “Admiral, we got her. Heading to the LZ now.” She nods upon hearing her next orders. Vega sets Shepard against a seat in what looks like a waiting room. 

James takes defensive maneuvers, standing with his back to Shepard and his gun drawn. Doctors and scientists of the STG scramble amongst the chaos and blaring alarms. He watches each and every one of them. Any one of them can suddenly become a threat. 

Shepard’s attention is entuned on the quick shifts in Williams’ body language. Ash pulls into herself, hiding her next words unsuccessfully. “She’s conscious but unaware.” She pauses. “Yes, Admiral.”

Ash turns back to the group. Her confident and strong willed demeanor returns. “Let’s move!” she demands before pushing off of her back leg. James turns back to Shepard with a harsh, yet leading hand. “You heard her, Commander,” he utters as he gently guides her arm over his shoulders once more. 

A wince leaves her lips as he stands this time. The aches are beginning to weigh on her. The way her tongue rests dryly in her mouth. The way each breath feels like a gamble - is it going to help more than hurt? She lets out another grunt as she leans heavily into Vega’s shoulder. 

“Medi-gel?” Shepard musters the words. They feel bare and unfamiliar. She can feel her dried lips crack with each word. 

“We’re almost to the landing zone,” Ash answers. Her face is sincerely concerned as she utters, “We’ll patch you up there.” 

Shepard nods her head. She can hold out, just a little bit longer, to ensure that her team makes it to the shuttle. “Is that complaining I hear, Commander?” James jokes as he limps his way behind Williams. She guides the troop to a balcony covered in trees and foliage. The perfect spot for Cortez to land and get them safely out. 

“Reapers must’ve done a number on you,” he continues with a smirk. Shepard pushes out a smile with the little energy she has left. “Not everyone can look this good after a beating like that,” she coughs out. The mundane taste of metal sprinkles across her tongue. 

Vega bustles out a laugh, tightening his grip onto her wrist. It is the first time she recognized the Lieutenant she knew back on the Normandy. “Still got it, Lola,” he utters with a beaming grin as he leads them onto the balcony with Williams’ cover. 

A booming sound vibrates the air as a blue shuttle decorated in Alliance insignia hovers perfectly beside the balcony’s ledge. Shepard manages to hold onto her smile, hoping to see a special someone on the other side of that door. 

The compressed air whizzes out of the side of the shuttle’s entrance. The first thing she sees is black dress shoes, shortly followed by the navy blues. She raises her eyes to see the Admiral. 

“Hackett,” she utters as James uses the majority of his strength to push her up and into the shuttle. He reaches for her hands, helping her onto a seat. Ash keeps guard, a classic silent and deadly spectre in the field. 

“Commander,” Admiral Hackett returns. His voice is solid and stern. She finds comfort in it, but she can’t deny how wide his eyes grew upon seeing her. She could feel that something was wrong - something in her body. She didn’t need her trusted comrades’ expressions to tell her that. 

Shepard pushes past those thoughts. She straightens her back against the cold metallic seats. Was it Cortez? Is he flying? The lighthearted feeling in her chest floats to the bottom of her throat. No offense intended for her lieutenants, but she certainly wants to see her nearest and dearest a tad bit more. 

Ash hops inside the shuttle flawlessly. Her gun is still tracking the last remaining scientists, workers, and doctors. She disarms once her sight is obstructed by the slow closing door. It hovers off into the orange sunset sky. 

James sits at Shepard’s side. She can see through her peripherals that he is assessing her injuries. His eyes scan over her body as she stares into Hackett’s pale face. Her eyes stern, her lips tight, her breathing quickens, and her heart beats faster than she thought possible. 

And yet, the Admiral turns around. He steps forward and into a huddled corner beside Ash. Shepard’s face falls. Her lashes lightly flutter as she stares into her melted boot. In an escape from overwhelming feelings, she notes the burnt hole and how the skin beneath it is an unfamiliar reddish pink. 

Sadly, Shepard was given less than a minute before a force rips through her diaphragm. She’s hunched over, despite the stabbing pain in her left side, with a closed fist at her mouth. Coughs fall from her lips, rocking her body to its core. 

With Vega’s steady hand at the base of her back, she was slowly able to recover. Her eyes immediately fall upon the two high school girls in the corner. Hackett and Williams stare at her in horror before gradually turning back into privacy. 

If Shepard could manage to say all the words, she would gladly ask, “Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on here?!” Alas, she is forced to prioritize her words. She leans into Vega’s side while sustaining her red lasered stare. “Medi-gel,” she whispers between her gritted teeth. 

James jumps at the word, almost as though it was on his list and he had forgotten. He dives into the medi-gel dispenser at the other end of the shuttle without another second passing. His movements call the attention of Williams and Hackett. “Grab her a water too,” the Admiral instructs with a nod. 

With a bottled water in hand, Vega returns to his seat. The crash pushes him into Shepard’s shoulder, causing a firm grunt. He hands the water to Shepard, before reaching back into the dispenser and retrieving Medi-gel in the form of an IV. His eagerness and quickness remind her of a golden retriever. 

James raises the needle, plastering a confident smile across his face. “I promise, I’ve gotten better, Commander,” he says with a breath. 

Rolling her eyes, Shepard extends her left arm. She watches as he approaches her with needle in hand and a tongue tightly held by his lips. He carefully injects the needle before holding up a bag of Medi-gel. She could feel it reaching her veins almost instantaneously. The cold liquid courses through, relaxing every ache and every pain. 

She leans deeper into her seat, resting the back of her head against the cold metal surface of the shuttle. She presses it deep against the hull, genuinely confused on how it doesn’t push past the solid. This feels incredible. She never truly understood the addicting need for red sand before, but holy shit did she know without a doubt now. 

“Thank you,” Shepard whispers as she closes her eyes and enjoys the sedative nature of the medication. 

A soft hand to her shoulder and Shepard awakes to Ash’s sweet, blushed face. They were still in the shuttle. Was it a short nap? She couldn’t tell with how deep her consciousness was laid to rest.  “Commander,” she whispers before leaning down onto her knee before her. “Can you tell us what happened?” 

Shepard moans, attempting to boost her energy before sitting up. She wishes she could take the world’s fattest cat nap, but duty calls. Her entire world turns upright alongside her rising torso. A soft clearing of her throat and she begins. 

“It was like Cerberus,” she struggles to keep her eyes open. “I woke up and I didn’t know where I was…” The words are starting to linger a bit more than she intends. 

“How did you get off the Citadel, Commander?” Hackett’s booming voice breaks the sound barrier just as he appears in the right side of Shepard’s view. “Bau, spectre,” she mumbles. “I - I asked for a medevac and … I can’t remember the rest.” 

Hackett and Williams exchange looks that piqued Shepard’s interest once more. Hackett then walked into the control room, changing the destination when speaking to the pilot. “When did you wake up?” Ash asks, blocking the view of the Admiral with her head. 

Shepard pulls back, knocking her head against the metallic wall. The crack feels like a blur. Her senses are beginning to waver - going in and out like pulsating bursts. “Minutes before you two came in,” she answers, turning to James. His brow remained thickly furrowed as he clenched his jaw. 

Ash sucks in a harsh breath through her nostrils. Her hand pats nicely against Shepard’s knee. “Get some rest, Commander,” she murmurs before standing and turning towards the Admiral. “Wait!” Shepard stops her from taking another step. The very call takes the breath right from her lungs. All of a sudden, she feels as though she ran a 10 meter dash. 

“Garrus,” she breathes. “W-where is he? Did he make it?” 

Shepard’s eyelids are growing heavier and heavier with each passing second. The pressure on her chest grows stronger and stronger. She can feel her body giving in to the Medi-gel, but she needed to stay conscious - just a little bit longer. Just long enough to hear the answer. 

“He’s alive,” Williams answers in a tone unfamiliar to the Commander. 

“Where…” The words fall with great effort. An effort that Shepard can no longer sustain. She reaches out for Ash’s hand.

Williams shudders back while sucking her lips in. She takes another soft breath, recollecting her composure, before speaking. “Get some rest, Shepard,” she instructs calmly as she walks towards Hackett and the pilot. 

Shepard drops her rejected hand flat against her thigh. The slamming of something hard crushes against the meat of her muscle. The first sinful sensation sent to her pain receptors since her IV. Her chin tucks to her clavicle. She exhaustingly follows the pain down to her leg. 

There she sees a mechanically constructed arm poorly connected just below her right elbow. Blood trickles down the sparkling clean  iridium rods. Her eyes widen in horror as she holds this hand, her hand, in front of her face. Her entire body grows cold. 

And in that moment, Shepard happily succumbed to the sedative.

note: happy n7 day! this is my first time celebrating! i completed the trilogy and truly experienced the best campaign ever. i was, needless to say, unwell when me3 ended. therefore, i began writing - hoping to find a way for garrus and shepard to reunite! but by the time i had this series idea, there was no way i could get all parts to their best by today. so i present to you the very first part of a series that probably won't come out until next year! hope you'll share some feedback!

okay, i should go.

⍟ nav ⍟ no-no plagiarism ⍟ series ⍟ requests open ⍟

banners @animatedglittergraphics-n-more, @poison-aesthetics

[annakie]

Finally started my new Shepard, who I named Indyara after my currently-favorite TTRPG character.  Not a lot of analogues between the two characters.  I just like the name.

I’ve been stewing what I wanted to do with a new character for awhile now. Again, in the interest in doing things and seeing content normally you wouldn’t see in a typical paragon everybody lives game, and using some mods.  I made a post about some of it like a year ago but this is what I decided for her in the end:

1. In general, going to skip a lot of quests that have little to no impact on later games, or to ensure someone dies in ME2.  Also going to be treading that line between Renegade and Complete Asshole most of the time. I already got Ashley mad at me for not always being nice to her during Eden Prime, but smoothed the situation out, then ended the conversation with a barb.  I know most of the dialog to avoid in order to not look like a psychopath, but she’s also not going to take any bullshit.

2. Low-Garrus playthrough.  I love Garrus and all, but would like to experience a playthrough where he’s not forced to be your best buddy no matter what.  Not going to recruit him in ME1.  Will wait as long as possible to pick him up in ME2, including using mods that let you do recruitment missions in different orders.  No loyalty mission so he’ll die during the suicide mission probably leading the fire team.  I’m sorry, but there absolutely is a Shepard without Vakarian, Shepard can save the galaxy just fine without him, especially for Indyara here.

3. Save Mordin.  This will mean Wrex dies in ME1, sorry buddy, but Mordin must live.  Sabotage genophage, convince Mordin to go into hiding.  Likely going to let Ashley kill Wrex on Virmire.

4. Tali also dies in ME2.   Would like to see Ran’s expanded role in ME3, and this also will mean saving the Geth over the Quarians whereas I’ve always in every playthrough otherwise made peace between the two.  Probably going to skip her loyalty and send her to the vents.

5. Romance No one –> Thane –> Joker.  Have never done a Thane romance and have always wanted to.  And now I really want to do @hatboyproject‘s Joker Romance Mod so this is the TIME.  It’ll be awhile til I get to LE3 with the speed I’ve been gaming so hopefully it’ll be out for LE3 by then.   I may still do a Thane Lives mod option if I can do that while romancing Joker.  I’ll have to check when it’s time.  But if Hatboy is still not an option when I make it to LE3, it’ll be Samantha, instead and I’ll either replay LE3 with Indyara later for Hatoby or make a new LE3-only Shepard.

6. Virmire Savior mod for all 3 games! Gonna save both Ashley and Kaidan.  I’m not normally going to use this mod in my games because it prioritizes Ashley, like on Horizon, and obviously in my canon-Kaidanmance-faithful run I want to maximize Kaidan content.  But I am VERY excited to use it this time!  In order to make myself not romance Kaidan even in ME1, I specifically made a Shepard that kinda looks like Kaidan, and I am going to headcanon that they found out that they’re like, cousins.  My Shepard is Earthborn for even easier headcanoning.  She really likes Kaidan, and they’re going to remain close but... just friends. Thanks Optional Flirting mods (And I think it’s the Same Gender mod in LE1 that fixes the issues) for making it easier to avoid the accidental romance.

6. Class wise, Infiltrator, which I’ve never done before.  Plus, you know, Garrus is one so normally, why bother?  So this is my chance to finally play one.

7. Probably screw up a few other things, like pick Morinth over Samara, delay going to pick up Jack in ME3 so she gets reaperized just because I’ve never done those things before.  Probably won’t let other characters die who don’t need to when letting them die does nothing but just have less content in future games instead of different content.  I don’t care to have a near-empty & depressing Citadel party, after all.  Just experience most of the rest of the little things I’ve been interested in that I’ve never gotten around to because of playing my canon Shep time and time again instead.

[dwarrowdams]

✨, 🤩, and 🤲 for the fanfic writer emoji ask, if you’re in the mood

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

I'm good at characterization.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

For Mass Effect, I really love writing Garrus because his character is complex enough to keep me on my toes. He's an absolute sweetheart, but he can also be ruthless and violent; he can be smooth but is also hella awkward at other times, and so on. Balancing extremes like that in a character keeps me on my toes.

Of my OCs, I love writing Liv because of her brazenness (and her softer side that is sometimes buried deep), and Frida (my Adventures in Middle-earth OC) because she's very different from me (extroverted, charismatic, wants a big family, loves new experiences/places) and she has a cool narrative that allows me to explore a lot of different ideas/themes.

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

Gladly! Here's a bit from Fealty, my squire!Garrus fic, where he finds out that Princess Liv does archery.

“Just let me set a reminder,” she said as she tapped at her omni-tool.  “I have archery training later this morning and I don’t want to miss it.”

Garrus made an amused sound.  “Archery?” he said, disbelieving, before he remembered to whom he was speaking.  His face heated as he began to stammer out an apology, but the princess gestured for him to stop.

“It’s fine—that’s the reaction I usually get,” she said.  “Not my first choice when it comes to combat, but if someone messes around and jams all the guns, it’s good to have as backup.  Besides, it’s helped my accuracy a ton and it’s done godsdamned wonders for my muscles.”

She flexed her bicep, and Garrus’s subvocals purred with appreciation, although thankfully at a register the princess couldn’t hear.

“That…definitely makes sense,” he said, still staring at her bicep.

[ratasum]

💋, 🍑, 🍐 for Qirri! (- @astralarias)

Jumbo Ask Game

💋 How affectionate are they with their friends? Their family? Their romantic partner(s) (if they have any)? Are they more physical or emotional when it comes to displaying their affection? Why?

For a while, when she was younger, Qirri was not particularly physically affectionate outside of her family, and even then she was most affectionate with her father Pazz and her next oldest sister Rissia, as her mother and the oldest sisters, twins Pyrria and Izza, tended to coddle her. Most of the affection was physical, hugs and head bumps and nose nuzzles and those kinds of things.

Now that she's older she's grown closer to more people, and those people also get more physical affection from her than emotional, largely depending on the individual. Garrus she picked up more charr forms of affection, pressing her head against his and letting him nuzzle or snuffle her, and letting him braid her hair, something that very few people outside her sisters and Taimi are allowed to do.

With her krewe, it's a lot closer, especially since those relationships have grown to be more than platonic as they've grown up together. Taimi she's the most physically affectionate with, often leaning against her or napping with her when they need to take breaks. Zanthe and Gorrik both get hugs or her plunking herself down sitting right on them when something's annoyed her and she wants her hair petted, though Zanthe much more than Gorrik.

🍑 Where is your OC’s favourite place to relax or calm down? Recount a story of their time spent in this place! What makes it so special to them?

Qirri really has two favorites: either just sitting outside in the shade with Garrus braiding her hair or in the research pit with her krewe. They're the most important people in her life.

Honestly, her favorite memory in that regard is right after they defeated Zhaitan. Shaken and letting her breathing settle down, she sat down under a tree... only to have Garrus settle down with her, carefully undoing the braids around her ears - back when she wore them that way - and undoing the braids to smooth them out and start braiding again.

It was the first time he'd braided her hair since he got hurt protecting her on Claw Island, and she just started crying. Sitting there under a tree, sniffling and wiping her eyes as her best friend, who she'd blamed herself for so long for getting hurt, petting and braiding her thick curly hair.

She's never forgotten that.

🍐 What is your OC’s mentality? Are they overall positive? Negative? A bit of both? Describe their thought patterns and reasoning behind their choice making!

A little of both! When she first started adventuring, she was much more positive, largely on account of how excited she was to get out of Rata Sum and out into the world.

Over time, having been 15 on leaving home and just barely 16 at Claw Island, she sobered. She considers herself far more a realist than she had at the jump, and her outlook is much more pragmatic than it once was.

Her thought process towards any choice is probably not unexpected: she's brilliant, and as such, she approaches everything as logically as she can. Sorting out the pros and cons, whether the ends justify the means, and the benefits of one option over another. It can often take her a lot of time to make a decision that isn't krewe related, and that's probably why Garrus is the commander and she is not.

[tenebriism]

❝ Well, you're handsome by this human’s standards at least. ❞ Screw what anyone else thinks to be honest. But still, she feels selfish to want this; to want anything outside of saving a planet or meditating some conflict half a galaxy away. Feels greedy in the way she inches closer, as if the current nearness wasn't enough regardlessof the faint smile that pulls along her lips.

Anara is not a religious woman by any means but she prays to whatever deity listening to put a pause on any possible intrusions that would threaten this moment, THEIR moment.

❝ Very forturnate. ❞ Soft laughter as her finger finds a clasp but hesitates for a second not in uncertainty, merely waiting for a guiding hand. ❝ We do need to get you into some new armor, though. ❞

" --- or, out of it. "

It comes with no hesitation, no restraint, and the realization that FOLLOWS comes far too LATE. Garrus sputters in quickly rising embarrassment, a clearing of throat no more than a paltry attempt to MASK it. " I, uh... that... wasn't supposed to come out. " Yet it HAD, and with her finger curled dangerously into a clasp that, upon its loosening, may give her more than she BARGAINED for, Garrus finds himself oddly hyper-aware of just how LITTLE he knows about... certain things. For as much as he smooth talks both on and off the battlefield, this -- THIS -- is different, and he's about as close to fumbling it as the guiding laser of a sniper rifle, CENTERED to a target's forehead, is to blowing off the poor soul's head.

" ... your finger, it's... somewhere QUITE dangerous. All the bits and pieces and latches on this thing, and you find THAT one first. I'd almost assume you've done this before, Shepard. "

@kismetwilled ;; ♥

[sol-consort]

I was so upset when I thought Grunt died because I was like “I’ve seen him in different cutscenes though what’d I do wrong???” Luckily Grunt is the goat and lived because he’s Grunt. Wish I took him on missions more but you can’t beat the Tali/Shepard/Garrus combo I rocked the entire Trilogy

I love my fatass son even if he blocks 60% of my shots by walking directly in front of my camper Shepard just right after I pull the trigger then yells at me for friendly fire WHEN HE WAS THE ONE TO WALK IN FRONT OF MY SNIPER.

anyway so, I love him so much! I was a few seconds away from opening the task manager and force closing the game bc I thought for sure he died and I didn't want to finish the unskippable cutscene. I would've kill a that rachni queen a thousand times over if it meant Grunt got to live, zero hesitation.

Thankfully his bloodied limbing body emerged eventually and I have never felt happier in my life.

I wish him and Eve had an interaction since the two of them were in the medbay during the same time but oh well. She would've definitely fell hard for my glorious beloved son and forgot about dusty crusty Wrex!

Also his email after he recovers is so

OF COURSE MY BELOVED SON, I WILL SEND YOU ALL THE SHARK VIDEOS IN THE WORLD. SHARKS ARE VERY SMOOTH SKINNED AND MISUNDERSTOOD CREATURES WHO ARE CURIOUS BY NATURE JUST LIKE YOU MY SON. I AM GLAD IT IS NOT DOLPHINS YOU HAVE AN INTEREST IN SINCE DOLPHINS ARE DEVILSPAWN SOCIOPATHS.

it is super adorable that both the animals he is obsessed with are from earth just like Shepard, dinosaurs and sharks.

Wait are turians dinosaurs who survived their own meteor radiation-

Anyway! Here is more on the game report so far. I am falling asleep as I type.

Story plot

So far enjoying everything, the story writing is amazing and the dialogue is pretty hard hitting at times. Sometimes bloated but oh well. Tuchanka felt like such a big pay off to a huge build up since the first game, the quest delivered a full course meal.

Especially the reaper fight oh god, you get to feel powerless for once with a brute after brute after brute being thrown at you and no obvious spare ammo laying around. You just have to gun it (Ha) to the controls and avoid getting sqaushed like a bug by the reaper or charged by the brutes like a football.

Cloaking is a god sent gift that spared me so many times, I pray the brutes never develop thermal vision or the braincells to employ technology that uses it.

Mordin's death hit hard man, it was so right tho. It felt like it was meant to be, I wouldn't have cared for a random salarian. But Mordin? Oh no.

The fact he sings the model of a salarian scientist during it is the knife twisting in the back after the stab.

It's so clear he is doing it to calm himself down, to not mess this up.

It's a reminder of how much he has given to science, his whole life, identity and hobbies. His music, youth and great mind. So many of his beloved students too.

And he dies correcting the mistakes of superiors playing politics who let fear cloud their judgement.

Wrex calls Shepard his sister in it, Wrex has not hit on me once, I am unbelievably thankful for his writers and so overjoyed with this lovely platonic relationship between them.

Because yes they do feel like siblings!

Still, ME1 Wrex now feels like a different person in comparison to ME3 and I am not talking about believes.

I mean he used to be less open with us, less animated and more shut on himself and brooding. Now he laughs, makes jokes and gets excited, I'm really happy for him! It's like he found his true purpose and passion in life.

Kaidan

I forgot how sappy and adorable he is, when sorrounded by badass characters with edges so sharp it could cut a paper, you get so used to them and someone awkward like Kaidan easily stands out.

He's unsure, confused and just so very human. He's still trying to do the right thing while looking at Shepard for guidance. The fact he doesn't think twice before refusing Hackett's offer to have his own ship just to be with us again.

I don't think Kaidan feels complete without Shepard. In his romance he is so sappy and adorable too, earnest and speaking from the heart. Since the first game he was one for romantics and rarely relied on sexy flirting but rather love confessions are more his forte.

I mean look at this man my heart

I he is just so fjkwkcbaoxjs <3333333 he is the softest person in this whole trilogy, even Tali and Liara are more jaded than him at times. But he still acts as if we were his first love, as if he is a schoolyard boy giving his crush flowers and asking their favourite color.

Femshep

You mentioned only playing as maleshep so I'm not sure how different our experiences are, so I will mention the things I think are exclusive to femshep here.

In the reconcile scene in ME3 where your ME1 romance takes you back after you romanced someone in the second game, they accuse you of cheating.

Apparently maleshep can say it isn't cheating because they broke up with you on Horizon. But femshape has to apologise for cheating??? It's very weird idk dude.

I installed a mod that just let me have the maleshep dialogue instead.

You can also hit on Joker when he asks you about EDI.

And have a full conversation on him being with you instead.

He rejects you and says he's not Kaidan (ouch) and doesn't date crew, he will follow you into hell but not into your quarters.

EDI doesn't wear a uniform so he feels okay dating her.

Can you hit on EDI as maleshep?

Talking about EDI, it's making me really uncomfortable how openly the game is being inappropriate about her. I get she has a hot body and that's perfectly okay, but why does every other person feel the need to comment on it and sexualise her? Like she's an object or something.

ME1 had this problem with femshep where antagonists would hit on you to show them being trashy or whatever and the paragon option is to swallow it down and keep talking while the renegade option is to call them out on it.

And in ME2, someone calls you a stripper, and a turian npc asks about your boobs.

I thought they fixed it in ME3, and true, so far, femshep doesn't get these weird comments.

But instead everything was turned on EDI and the game keeps bringing it up and it's just gross my dude. At least Shepard could tell them to fuck off but EDI can't.

James Vega is a character I really like! I loved his bro relationship with Shepard so much. Even as femshep he still says "hey man" or things like that.

But it is weird when he hits on you out of the blue without any prior interest indications. I envy the platonic bro relationship he has with maleshep, really wish femshep could have the same one.

He isn't even a romantic interest, you don't flirt with him or anything. He just hits on you sometimes. Because. Woman. Ig.

Eve opens up to you more as femshep, that was nice and made me feel better. She is one of my favs too, I love everything about her.

Thane

The Thane romance broke me oh my god.

He calls you Siha when he warns you about the citidal attack. In his romanced ending, his last ever act before dying is to literally pray for you, not for himself but for you. For his goddess to forgive you and grant you eternal love and peace, his son even joins him.

He says your heart is pure despite all, that's the goddess should keep you by her side and make you a companion to her much like you were to Thane. The moment is so touching and genuinely emotional I actually cried.

The voice actor for femshep is phenomenal in this too. You get used to Shepard's harsh and commander voice tones and suddenly it's all soft and quiet, whispery and on the blink of tears and it literally cracks your heart open and makes you realise how this big strong commander is crumbling watching the love of her life die in front of her.

And the dress looks so out of theme i know but the context to it just makes the scene even more sad.

I didn't know the citidal mission would start, I didn't know about any of this when I finished tuchanka. I just picked the prettiest red dress I could find because I was excited to see Thane again and wondering if he'll kiss Shepard again because he mentions he can't do it much bc of his sickness and would need some rest so I assume a mission or two will reset it.

So in my mind, I'm getting ready for this cute date with Thane, dolling my Shepard and all excited and happy walking to the citidal. Thinking about him and looking forward to his dialogue and make I'll take some pics with him in this pretty outfit.

But it's...he doesn't get to see it. He doesn't get to see Shepard in her pretty dress that she wore for him because she had to change into armour for the mission. Then he gets stabbed and you can't even stay by his side after he saved you from an assassin.

Btw that assassin scene was so fucking cool, it's easy to forget how badass Thane is and how deadly he can be even while dying.

By the time it's all over, Shepard had to go see him in the same red dress for their date because If I went to the Normady to change he would've already died. There is no time. This outfit that was supposed to celebrate their love has become the dress for his funeral instead, the date on his deathbed and it's squeezing my heart painfully.

Like that is the oufit of someone who thought they had more time, of someone who didn't realise how close tragedy came by.

[chaaistheanswer]

Trying to tease your space bf, but it backfires and you get all shy cos everything he says is just too damn smooth you were never ready for it! I was tryna flesh out Genevieve's personality. She's usually very serious and is a "get down to business" kinda lady, but whenever Garrus flirts with her she doesn't know what to do and curls into a little ball like she doesn't know what to do with these fuzzy feelings yea it do be like dat sometimes i still love my bby tho

[dispatchwithlove]

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.

[grandwretch]

Marco would commit a genocide. I'm not sure how, and I'm not sure which one, but there's so many alien species in that series just ripe for Marco's clear line to decimate. It's a universe on the brink of extinction and I can see Marco and Rachel (and Ax?) speeding it along.

Jake and Garrus would be best bros. Rachel would also love Garrus, because they love to beat people up together, but I feel Garrus and Jake have a lot of the same energy sometimes. Garrus would be the only person to really appreciate Jake's jokes. I feel this in my soul.

Cassie is a hard one because there's not really a lot of animals in space. I think she'd get along with older Asari, but be weirded out by some of their cultural norms. Honestly, depending on how long they were there, I think she might shift from zoology to xenobiology, just because the amount of alien species are so so vast and also there have been like a million cases of biological warfare resulting in generations-long symptoms and viruses. I think she would feel compelled to fix it. Yup, Cassie goes to alien med school.

Rachel would find herself adopted by a very nice krogan couple. She's their weird, smooth child, but she has the heart of a krogan, and they love her very much. She gets a battle suit of her very own in bear morph, and they teeth her how to shoot a gun with her claws. It's terrifying.

Ax would be convinced he's the one meant for diplomacy, here, since he's also an alien, but he would cause 500 inter-galaxy disputes and then almost die of an allergic reaction because he ate a weird fruit that Andalite/human bodies aren't able to process.

What if the Animorphs were transplanted into the world of mass effect?

I haven't played. Mass Effect and Animorphs fans, anyone wanna weigh in?

[callmearcturus]

i am sick as fucking hell today so here's my ranking of S-Links so far

caveats: Aigis STILL hasn't fucking unlocked, i'm only halfway thru mitsuru's, and one-third thru yukari's.

Best to Worst:

The Magician, Junpei: I am still flabbergasted at how fucking good his arc is. The fact that in the penultimate slink scene he recognizes the specific way he's been disrespectful to you and meaningfully apologizes for it is not remotely what I expected out of him. Also I somehow got spoiled very early that he wasn't a romance option, and (I can't believe I'm making this comparison) just like Dorian in Dragon Age: Inquisition, it made it feel fun and safe to play-flirt and joke with him, safe in the knowledge it wouldn't go awry. Junpei is my fucking bro, my ride or die.

The Star, Akihiko: Predictable since I am currently evaluating his entire romance against my other favorite romances in video games (I don't think he beats Garrus and The Transistor, but he's top five). Slowly unraveling this boy is delightful, and honestly the way he turns as you get to know him better is very marked and obvious. He goes from relying on his one hyperfixation to communicate, to opening up and sometimes being genuinely so fucking smooth and romantic, it threw me for a loop. Least neurotypical person in the cast.

The Hermit, Saori: From the moment she said a Bad Word I was in love. I like how... careful you have to be with her, how she is very aware of her faults, of the fact she's a doormat, and the reasons she has become that way. Saying goodbye to her was genuinely very fucking sad and I miss her. Would dump Akihiko for her if I could. (Tho even more I want them to meet, could you IMAGINE.)

The Priestess, Fuuka: I love this girl so fucking much. The steel core of her underneath of the self-doubt is wonderful to see. Also the specific way she sucks at cooking and almost locks up from the failure tracks as very real. It does suck to rope someone else into helping you with something and then seeing how good that person is at the thing. Also her slink is so close to a romance, I'm mad about it. LEMME DATE HER.

The Moon, Shinjiro: Ah, the urge to help people vs the urge to be a bitch. Who can't relate to that. Especially given the inevitable end of his arc, the specific way Shinjiro is trying to keep people from relying on him or expecting anything from him... hitting facefirst into the wall of how goddamn fucking reliable he is, it's great. Glad I maxed this one out.

The Tower, Mutatsu: I really like that you're basically therapizing this old monk just by.... being a mirror to reflect his questions back at him. You do very little to help him honestly, you just exist nearby and thus inspire him to challenge himself and better himself. He just needed someone to talk to! Also its funny to imagine FemPC just hanging out in his booth for a few weeks. What a duo.

The Sun, Akinari: Did NOT like this one at first, but wow the actual final thought of it, the idea that.... death is inevitable, and you will never know your purpose, and you will never see your purpose, but you do have purpose. That was surprisingly affecting. Also WAS HE A GHOST THE WHOLE TIME? WHAT WAS WITH THAT? Wacky.

The Chariot, Rio: Oh Rio, I wish I could rank you higher, girl. I really like Rio and think she's actually an incredible example of the Chariot, but in the way I enjoyed being careful with Saori, there were times I wanted to smack Rio upside the head. Because she's making progress, she's getting there, but it's almost entirely without you. You're there to support her and that's great but you cannot fucking challenge her at all ever or she'll get upset. Just frustrating.

The Devil, Tanaka: This one was so fucking weird but enjoyable? But there's no depth here. It's just weird and fun!

Strength, Koromaru: I'm not a dog person but this is a good dog. Also while I didn't vibe with the plot around Koromaru, the way he incited conversation with other characters was great.

Justice, Ken: I'm about... 4 or 5 into this one? And the point seems to be "ah, the trauma of growing up too fast." Which yep. That's a thing. Wish this slink wasn't like pulling teeth.

The Emperor, Hidetoshi: I'm bored to tears and I'm never gonna finish this one. Hidetoshi is a tool, I'm not interested.

The Hierophant, the Old Couple: this one is straight up poorly written. It's just so fucking poorly written I don't know if something went seriously awry in localization or if it was just that bad. I maxed it out and I regret it.

The Hanged Man, Maiko: HEY YO WHAT WAS UP WITH HER DAD HITTING HER AND THE "BEST" OPTION BEING "That's mean!" OH BITCH IS IT MEAN TO HIT A CHILD? OH DANG I HAD NO IDEA.

Temperance, Bebe: The degree to which I failed out of this slink cannot be overstated. When Bebe calls me, I turn him down every time even if I have NOTHING else to do that day. This slink feels offensive to like five different groups of people. Nope. Not doing it. Bye.

I thiiiiiiink that's all the ones I have an opinion on. /jazzhands

Say What About:

Yukari: I bounced off her early because she gave me huge Best Friend Who Quietly Hates You vibes. She gets great development in the main story tho so I'm working on hers.

Aigis: Hasn't unlocked.

Mitsuru: IT TOOK ME UNTIL FUCKING, WHAT, NOVEMBER TO GRIND ACADEMICS? OH MY GODDDDD the stat threshold for her is literally just to fucking high.

Ryoji: Gave me the creeps so I fully skipped everything after the mandatory unlock!!!! Don't like him!

[fiannans]

Movie Night (Mass Effect, Shakarian)

Title: Movie Night Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 718 Rating: E (Explicit) Pairing: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian Summary: Written for the “neck kisses” weekly prompt in @ashalle-art’s server. Garrus distracts Shepard during a movie.

Read on AO3.

An hour into the movie, Shepard noticed Garrus getting bored. It had been her turn to pick the movie and she’d chosen an old horror classic from Earth, about a 7 foot tall alien monster slaughtering the hapless crew of a human cargo ship. Garrus claimed not to see the resemblance, but he endured her jokes about horrible spiky aliens with characteristic good humour and only a little grumbling.

On-screen, the surviving characters were discussing how to deal with the alien invader occupying their ship (Shepard had seen it before, so she already knew their plans were doomed to gory failure). Off-screen, Garrus’s hand had settled casually on her bare knee. Shepard continued to watch the movie, pretending not to notice as his hand traveled slowly up her thigh, blunted talons dragging feather-light over her skin. Goosebumps sprang up on her arms and the back of her neck. She shivered.

Garrus let out an amused huff and leaned closer to nuzzle her neck. Without taking her eyes off the movie, Shepard tilted her head to the side, baring her throat to him. He showed his gratitude by flicking his tongue over the skin above her pulse point, then nipped her gently. When his needle-sharp teeth grazed her throat, she gasped and squeezed her thighs tightly together as a surge of arousal sent warm tingles pulsing through her core.

Garrus chuckled and slid the hand that was still resting on her leg between her clamped thighs, urging them apart. She obliged by spreading her legs for him readily, holding her breath as he stroked the tip of his talon over her pussy. Even through her shorts and underwear, the sensation made her shudder with desire.

All pretence of still paying attention to the movie gone now, Shepard undid the buttons on her shorts with trembling fingers. Garrus continued to stroke her lazily while he waited, his tongue laving her throat again.

When the buttons were undone, he was able to slip his hand into her shorts and under the waistband of her underwear. He ran his talons through her pubic hair—he’d been fascinated when he first discovered she had hair down there too—and circled her clit deliberately with the pad of his finger, before moving lower to the place where she ached most for him to touch her.

“Mmm,” he said approvingly when he felt how wet she was. “Very nice.”

A smart retort was ready on her tongue, but any ability to think or form words vanished and all she could do was moan as he carefully eased the tip of his talon inside her. He went slow, not pushing too deep in case he hurt her. Even though he kept his talons filed, there was still a risk whenever they did this. Shepard never would have admitted it to anyone else, but the danger was part of what made it so hot.

She opened her legs wider and leaned her head back against the strong turian arm around her shoulders while Garrus moved the tip of his talon in and out of her. His piercing blue eyes were focused on her face, watching her reactions. Being looked at so intensely should have been embarrassing, but it wasn’t. Instead, it just turned her on even more.

He kept up the same steady, controlled pace even as her breathing quickened and tension started to build in her lower abdomen. When he shifted the angle of his hand slightly so the soft, leathery surface of his palm brushed against her clit with every movement of his fingers, she bit her lip.

Garrus could tell she was close and he didn’t let up for a second, each smooth motion of his talon inside her bringing her closer and closer to the edge. When it finally came, the power of her orgasm took her by surprise. She lay in Garrus’s arms, breathing heavily, until she’d recovered enough to speak.

“So much for the movie,” she laughed.

He looked smug. “It wasn’t very good anyway.”

“Hey,” Shepard protested, but after the orgasm he’d just given her she didn’t have much room to complain. Which reminded her…

Garrus watched, mandibles twitching, as she ran her finger over the sizeable bulge in his pants. She licked her lips.

“My turn,” she told him.