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lavampira · 7 months

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trust fall

malena shepard x kaidan alenko. mass effect 3; post-geth dreadnought. 2k words. [also on ao3]

Malena doesn’t scream when her hand misses the ledge. Her heart races like it’s in a damn marathon as she floats in zero grav, which in its defense, she has been trying to outrun the explosions behind her, and a hoarse gasp rips past her lips in sheer frustration that’s mirrored by someone swearing over the comm, but she does not scream. Not even with the imploding geth ship under her.

“Shepard!”

Tali, her brain supplies. She ignores her for the time being. She’s on autopilot now, maybe flipped that switch from the moment she had to walk her way through space not even five minutes into this mission, reliving an experience that she definitely would’ve preferred not to again. But she can think about that later.

Her mind does run through a mental list, though. Garrus. Tali. Legion, whom she hadn’t expected to see, but she can’t say that she’s unhappy about it even with that chunk of her old, charred N7 chest plate still fused over his circuits. The first two are safe. The latter snatches her hand out of the air, tugging her back to the walkway to lead her through a new escape plan.

Someone else—Joker, maybe—calls over the comm as they flee in a geth fighter, Legion at its helm. She thinks she answers this time, but she can’t be sure. Briefly, she thinks of Kaidan, still on the Normandy in a search for his students when they’d left, but she pushes aside those thoughts, too. Her teeth chatter and muscles shake with the excess of adrenaline the entire way.

As shitty as the mission has gone, she’s almost surprised that they make it back in one piece.

The relief when they finally pass through the airlock and her boots are firmly back on the Normandy floods her. It’s almost funny in a warped sort of way, considering she’d died on the last one. But Garrus lightly knocks her shoulder’s armor plate with a gentle fist on his way past her, that simple reflex of their old routine after all these years briefly settling her frayed nerves, further grounding her to the sanctuary of her ship.

Not that it lasts.

Malena stews through the Quarians’ debrief. She wants to kick the admiralty off the ship, wants to yell over the conference line that it was stupid to start a war with the galaxy at stake and even stupider to fire on a dreadnought with the woman bending over backwards to help them still on it, but she does none of those things. She bites her tongue hard enough for the metallic tang of blood to fill her mouth and plays at civility with her trembling hands folded behind her back until it’s done.

The fact is that more than her frustration that so few people are willing to consider the risks of division while the Reapers decimate whole worlds, and being the one in the unfortunate position of trying to hold them all together with scraps of hope to even stand a chance, she hates that this is the mission threatening to undo her.

All because of her own fear.

She can fight through fear—her entire career has been shaped around her capacity to do it and accomplish the impossible in spite of it. But in the aftermath when the adrenaline ebbs and the quiet sets in again, that’s the real pain in the ass. By the time that she manages to scrub the sweat from her body and soot residue from her armor, change into a plain tee that she’d confiscated from Kaidan some time ago and hangs slightly loose over her frame, and lower herself to her cabin’s lounge with her face in her hands, it’s begun to eat away at her composure.

Malena was born in space. Her childhood had been spent moving from ship to ship with parents in the Alliance, never spending much time on any singular planet besides infrequent visits. Her adult life had been dedicated to serving the Alliance herself, training at Arcturus and Grissom, going through the N7 program, and then bunking on other ships until she had one of her own to command. She’s trained so thoroughly for spacewalks that she could damn well do one in her sleep. It should’ve been like any other day for her.

The problem lies in the fact that she had died in space, too. Blown right out of her very first ship trying to save her pilot, suffocated in her own malfunctioning suit, and burned in Alchera’s atmosphere, only to wake on a Cerberus lab table two years later with recreated parts that still discomfort her thoughts and residual terror from the experience seared into her psyche, apparently.

Kaidan eventually finds her in her cabin—or theirs, she supposes, now that he’s tentatively moved in his belongings for some semblance of normalcy as a couple despite everything else going to hell around them—with a soft hiss of the door granting him access. She can tell by his quiet pause at the entry that he’s skimming the room for her.

“Hey, there you are,” he calls softly. She doesn’t know exactly what her face shows when she finally glances up, but it must be a doozy because his thick brows furrow, and he adds, “You okay?”

I’m fine, Malena wants to say. How many times does she say it in a day? Fine, fine, fine. Chin up, back straight. It’s a necessity on a ship—if others see their commanding officer lose her shit, morale goes right out the airlock. And so Commander Shepard has the situation under control, and if she doesn’t, then she’ll get it there.

She opens her mouth to speak, but her voice breaks before she can form a word.

Kaidan is there in an instant. He kneels in front of her, searching her face with those soft brown eyes until she ducks her head. If she looks at him too long, she will cry, and that will only worry him more. She can only imagine what his train of thought was already doing while she was aboard that damn ship.

Guilt pools low in her gut and propels her forward, sinking into the warmth of his arms that open instinctively to hold her. His stubbled cheek prickles against her skin as he leans his face against her, but she doesn’t mind, tethered by the familiarity of that simple gesture. She rests her own head on his shoulder, allowing herself this singular point of comfort.

“So, rough day, huh?”

Malena huffs a laugh into his neck. “Understatement of the century.”

“Yeah. If you want to talk about it… I mean, I don’t know. You’ve listened to me through the hard things. I want to be here for you, too, if you’ll let me.”

“You always are.”

“Not always,” he returns ruefully. “But I’d like us to be better.”

The heaviness in his voice forces her to draw back to see him better in the dim lighting of the room. Her palm finds his cheek, letting her thumb sweep away the regret pulling at his features. In so many ways, Horizon and Mars still haunt the space between them as much as her death, every step to get past it seemingly a monumental one at times. But they’re trying, and that’s enough for her.

She could deflect it with a joke. It would be so easy to do it, shooting him a little smirk around a teasing comment, maybe bring a soft laugh out of him for even a moment. It doesn’t feel right with all his earnesty on display, though. Not when her resolve is still so close to shattering in his arms and her latest brush with death, far too similar to the real one, lingers over their heads.

“Hey, you’ve got me,” Malena finally says, trailing her hand to brush back a dark curl fallen over his forehead. “This is when it matters. And you’re here.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as if fighting the urge to smile. “I thought I was supposed to be reassuring you.”

“Well, maybe we both need a little of it right now.”

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

Kaidan reaches for the hand still cradling his face, twisting it to press his lips to the sensitive skin of her wrist, right above her pulse. A reminder that she’s alive, though she can’t be certain if it’s more for his sake or for hers. All she knows is that it’s become a habit ever since they decided to stop holding back how they feel for each other and a comfort all the same.

Before she can react to it, he rises from the floor and slides easily into the space beside her, tugging her close with an arm wound around her back. Part of her wants to protest that she still has reports to make before she can allow herself a reprieve. But she also knows he will just fight her on it, equally stubborn and insistent in his care, and so she caves into it. She rests her head against his shoulder and settles her strong thighs over his lap, his free arm holding them in place.

“These are the moments that scare the hell out of me,” he says quietly.

“What, cuddling?”

“No.” An uneasy laugh escapes him. “Thinking of how I could’ve lost you again, and how I wasn’t even there.”

Malena swallows around a lump in her throat, but she steadies herself, tightening her grip on him for purchase. Last time he had voiced something like it, she’d quipped that she had a problem staying dead anyway. Guilt still gnaws at her chest for how horribly quiet he had gone, how tense and rigid his body had grown with her remark. No matter how much she wants to brush off the thought, even to alleviate the dour mood, she doesn’t want to go there again.

Instead, she confesses, “It scared the shit out of me, too.”

It might have been her lowest point yet. The walk between ships had seemed vast and endless, only made longer by how often she’d stopped to double check her omni-tool that her suit was still intact because everything was so silent save for her labored breathing in rattled bursts. Even with Garrus’ snark to keep her company over the comm channel, she couldn’t fully hide the damn shake in her voice with each response. Her heart had been hammering hard enough in her chest to feel lightheaded and unsteady in her boots by the time that she got the other entry open for the others.

“Yeah, I… Well, Garrus might’ve mentioned it. I mean, I’d figured it could trudge up some memories, but he seemed pretty worried, too.”

Her eyes squeeze shut as she buries her face further into him. “That traitor.”

“He’s looking out for you. Can’t fault him for that.” A placating kiss is placed on the top of her head. “You know, you’re strong, Mal. Maybe the strongest person I know. But even you can be shaken up.”

“I can’t— I’m not supposed to show it.”

“You can with me. I’ve got you, remember?”

Kaidan draws her closer to emphasize his point, or maybe out of his own reassurance as well. It doesn’t alleviate all of the residual fear and frustration, Malena finds, but some of the weight does feel marginally lifted from her chest with the fervent honesty in his words. She raises her head to respond, but her throat feels too tight to speak, forcing her to take an alternate approach.

She presses a kiss to his temple, right on the dark hair flecked in more silver than it had been a few years ago. You do.

Another kiss to his stubbled cheek. Thank you.

And a final one to his lips, ignoring the uncomfortable chafe of his fatigue pants against her legs as she shifts in his lap to face him more fully, desperate for the proximity as he matches her breath for breath. I love you.

If he doesn’t understand, Kaidan doesn’t say. He simply takes the gesture in stride as he finally allows himself a small smile against her lips. And Malena has to admit, letting herself drop the veneer of unshakable strength is as exhilarating as it is terrifying with the man who loves her doing his damnedest to get her through it, despite everything they face.

It’s a trust fall, but it’s one she realizes she’ll make every time.

#dani writes things #game: mass effect #fic: mass effect #oc: malena shepard #ch: kaidan alenko #malena/kaidan #mass effect #mass effect 3 #mass effect fic #shenko #fshenko #femshep

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burntheedges · 27 days

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2024 Fic Reading Tracker - March

We're back! I kept it up for another month. Couldn't have done it without @the-blind-assassin-12 Alyssa's March Fic Madness challenge! Find my 2024 fic reading tracker masterlist and blank tracker here.

I read fewer fics and words in March than in February or January, but I read some longer ones and I wrote more (that's all coming soon). Graphs and monthly fic recs below the cut!

March Fic Reading Stats

# of fic reading instances: 119 # of words read: 1,251,818

Fics by fandom

PPCU = Pedro Pascal cinematic universe You may notice the count is different from the count on my March Madness Tracker - it's because of how I count reads vs. fics.

PPCU Fics by Pedro character

We have a new addition, folks! This is Pero's first month appearing in the data.

Fic recs

Like previous months, I'm going to choose some fics I definitely recommend with a random number generator (1 through 119). But I also collected all of my PPCU fandom reads with links and tags into these two lists for Alyssa's March Fic Madness! They're organized by Pedro boy.

March Fic Madness - Fic Recs 💕 pt 1

March Fic Madness - Fic Recs 💕 pt 2

And a few fic recs via random number generator from my reading tracker:

Confetti by @secretelephanttattoo Fandom: PPCU, Marcus Pike x f!reader, 1.5k, Rating: M summary: You're at a wedding when a handsome brown eyed man steals you away. (part of El's Quiet Moments collection - and so cute and spot on for Marcus 💕)

Centrifugation by @theclairvoyage Fandom: PPCU, Joel Miller x f!reader, 27k so far, Rating: E summary: You’re the star phlebotomist at the local plasma center, and the job has been increasingly mundane as of late… until a new and handsome Texan donor comes to the center and changes that, and the rest your life. (I loooove this reader and Joel 🥰)

DECLINED by @alltheirdamn (link to part 1) Fandom: PPCU, Joel Miller x f!reader, 14k so far, Rating: E summary: You're on a cross-country road trip when your tires blow, and you're forced to get them fixed at a small town mechanic shop. When your card declines, you only have one other option to get your car back. (mechanic!Joel!!!!)

your mama's got plans and your daddy's aim is true by storm_petrel Fandom: Mass Effect, Female Shepard x Kaiden Alenko, 6.5k, Rating: M (ao3 link) summary: There was no Alliance manual for trying to drag two trillion people fighting and screaming through absolute certain death, and there was nothing about what to do when you unexpectedly got spat out on the other side, either. And there was definitely nothing about what to do if your hot, older-than-you, currently missing-in-action boyfriend knocked you up at some stage in that sequence of events. (I love this fic 😭 cw: pregnancy)

... see you next month!

#fanfic #reading tracker #ppcu #bte 2024 fic tracker #fanfiction #joel miller x reader #marcus pike x reader #me fic #mass effect fic #marchficmadness24

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skinnyazn · 2 months

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Like Tears in the Rain

Pairing: Commander Shepard x Liara T'Soni Chapters: 1/1 Notes: @parttimeprophet asked "Ohhhh how about tearful kisses with Liara T'Soni x Femshep 👀🫶🏻? Writing, pls!" for kiss challenge!, Now you get the most heart wrenching bullshit, I may or may not have made myself cry at the end, it's fine I'm fine, excuse any tense issues I never write in present tense so this was a struggle,

AO3 | MASTERLIST

Shepard is a born soldier, fighting with bared teeth and pure grit through every calamity in her life, so this ache that sits deep inside her bones is a familiar feeling. It’s made its home from the years of abuse on the battlefield, across different planets and star systems, but it wears on her the longer she marches through the torn streets of London. Wave after wave, casualty after casualty—the physical aspect is nearly as heavy as the mental. One mistake and it all ends: the Reapers win and humanity, as well as every other sentient species in the galaxy, annihilated. And that simply isn't an option. Not for Shepard. So she does the only thing she knows how to do: fight to survive. It’s an endless reserve of horrors as her crew fight through the crumbling city. Even the Cerberus cybernetics in her body can’t combat the tiredness she feels when they finally reach the Forward Operating Base.

There’s no time for rest as Shepard inhales deeply, breathing the ash-laden air into her lungs, as she walks around the rubble to rally the band of soldiers. She looks at the faces of the men and women who served alongside her over the years, who trusted her—followed her through hell and back. They look older now. Kaidan has grey speckles throughout his temples and Garrus, a few more scars. Anderson just looks tired, and Shepard wishes things could have gone differently for the admiral. She makes it across a bridge to a makeshift medbay where Liara is already tending to the wounded, doing what she can to help the dying with her omni-tool. She still has the gore from the team’s early assault on her armor and Shepard wants to wipe it all away.

“How are the casualties?” she asks instead, walking toward the asari.

Liara doesn’t look up from her tool. “We lost people. Some of the wounded here won’t make it,” and it comes out calmly.

Shepard studies her lover. She hasn’t aged a day since their first meeting in that Prothean dig-site, yet the years took their toll in other ways. The once innocent and shy asari was now hardened by loss—most of all by Shepard’s.

“How are you holding up, Liara?” Shepard asks softly, moving closer.

“This is it, isn’t it,” Liara finally looks up at her commander, but her glacial blue eyes are distant.

“Yeah,” Shepard breathes, “this is it.”

The asari looks away, at the wounded—at the carnage around them in the brief moment of calm.

“I don’t know what to say. I just know I’ll have a clever line five minutes from now,” she chuckles, but it comes out flat. Shepard reaches for her hand.

She stares calmly into her commander’s eyes. “I do have one thing for you, Shepard. A gift. It’ll only take a moment, if you want it.”

“Of course I do.”

Liara smiles and it makes Shepard’s heart yearn. She moves toward her lover, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against the asari’s.

And suddenly there is a weightless serenity. All the heaviness and pain from the battlefield, gone. When Shepard opens her eyes, she’s in a peaceful oblivion, surrounded by stars. Liara’s delicate hands fit perfectly in Shepard’s.

And they don’t need to speak because they can feel each other’s emotions. All the nuances and subtleties that can’t be conveyed with words. The comfort. The calm. The abundance of love. A glowing light rises over an artificial horizon, but Shepard is too lost in Liara’s eyes to notice its color. And when they kiss, it reminds Shepard why she’s in the fight: to give all the lovers a chance like they got. Liara moves her hands over her stomach and Shepard feels a wave of emotions. To give life a chance.

I wish we had more time, she thinks, but when her eyes open, she’s back in London.

Liara looks at her solemnly. “Thank you, Shepard, for everything. I love you.”

Shepard’s hands linger on the asari’s waist, thumbs brushing over her stomach. She’s too scared to say it out lout so she settles for, “I’ll be fighting for us.”

“I know,” Liara smiles, and this time it reaches her eyes. “Now let’s do what needs to be done.”

Shepard nods, taking in her lover one last time before the final push—her particular shade of blue, the kindness in her eyes, the softness of her body. She presses her forehead against the asari once more before she turns and makes her way through the stretchers to gather her crew.

And the minutes feel like hours as Hammer Team make their final assault through No Man’s Land. The swarm of husks and mutilated creatures is overwhelming. Soldiers fall all around, but Shepard and her team push forward. London looks unrecognizable as they navigate toward the massive Conduit Beam in the middle of the city.

“Incoming Banshees!” Liara cries out, readying a warp attack.

“These bastards don’t give up,” Shepard grunts, feeling the weight of her Viper as she takes another headshot.

“Brute at your five, Shepard!” Garrus shouts this time.

“Then handle it! Where the hell is Wrex and the rest of the Krogans?”

“We’re busy cleaning up the mess you left,” Wrex’s voice booms through the static of the comms.

“It’s just like old times,” Garrus quips, but Shepard tunes him out as the claws of a banshee narrowly miss impaling her. She stabs the thing with her omni-tool and the shriek it emits is deafening.

“Shepard, take down that Destroyer!” It’s Anderson’s voice that breaks through the comms now, and Shepard spares a second to glance up a the massive Reaper that just touched down.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“There should be Thanix Missiles controls in one of the tanks. Aim and fire!” the admiral shouts.

“Tuchanka 2.0,” Shepard mutters under her breath as she continues firing at the swarm of ground enemies. The deep boom of the Destroyer shakes the whole ground as its red beam carves through the city.

“We don’t have time! I’ll cover you,” Garrus yells, nearing the commander.

Shepard dashes toward the shuttle, booting up the missiles. Everything slows as she waits for the Reaper’s cannon to open; her whole body vibrates from the adrenaline. A glow of red and she presses fire. It’s a direct hit—until they swerve away at the last second.

“What the hell was that?!” she shouts, as she takes shot at a marauder in stasis. Liara has regrouped next to her as well.

“Damnit. The conduit beam must be interfering with the missiles’ guidance,” Anderson gripes.

“EDI? Do you read me?” Shepard barks through her comms.

“Yes, Commander,” and it’s odd hearing the AI sound so strained.

“Any suggestions?” Another shot to a husk.

“I may be able to use the Normandy to enhance the missiles’ targeting capabilities.”

“Do it.”

“I’ll need you to open a link to the operating systems.”

Shepard punches at the control system while Garrus and Liara continue firing at the enemies that keep coming.

“Missile guidance enhanced! But the Destroyer is still out of range. It needs to be as close as possible, Commander.”

Shepard unloads into another banshee. “How the hell do we get it closer—”

“Shepard!” Anderson interrupts through her earpiece. “Harbinger is releasing everything he’s got. Hammer Team is making its way toward you. Just hold on.”

“Another wave?!” Liara sounds exasperated as her flare of biotics rips through a husk. Shepard can tell it's taking a toll on the biotic.

“We HOLD!”

And wave after wave comes. Banshees, cannibals, marauders—it’s an endless stream of near death calls. The ash from the burning surroundings stick to Shepard's sweat drenched skin and tighten her throat.

“Look,” Garrus rasps between shots, “the Destroyer is closing in.”

Shepard glances at the horizon and the massive machine is nearly on top of them now.

“Commander, it is within range!” EDI shouts over the comms.

“Firing!”

Another two Thanix missiles fire as the beam of the Destroyer weaves its way toward Shepard. This time they stick.

“A direct hit!”

“Hit them with everything you’ve got!” Shepard barks into the comms. An array of bullets and missiles in the city rain down on the Destroyer, exploding the being and littering the surroundings with corpse. A cloud of dust hits the crew.

“Destroyer terminated.” The AI sounds marginally calmer now.

“Nice work, EDI,” Shepard coughs, and she hears footsteps marching behind her.

“Shepard, over here!” It’s Anderson, and the commander feels a wave of relief that he finally caught up to them. She makes her way toward the older man. “We’re not out of the woods yet. Hackett just reported that several Sovereign-class reapers—including Harbinger—have broken off and are headed here.”

“Harbinger…”

“It’s a long shot but it’ll give Hackett enough time to get to the Citadel. But we still need someone on the ground to get to the beam and open the doors for him.”

“We still don’t know what we’ll find onboard the Citadel…” Garrus says bleakly.

“Then that’s our job: find out what we’re up against.” Shepard looks at the turian—at all of the remaining soldiers. “We’ve made it this far. There’s no turning back now. This is what we’ve been fighting for. Victory or death.” They nod.

“Alright,” Anderson said, “saddle up.”

Inside the shuttle there’s an odd sense of peace, in spite of the occasional rocking from explosions around them. There’re no windows and Shepard exhales at the bliss of being able to sit, to rest—if only for a moment. She looks over at her crew. Liara stares fixedly ahead, exhausted, and she reaches for her hand. The asari smiles faintly, squeezing back. Garrus has a shoulder wound and blood splattered all over him. Shepard hopes most if it isn’t his. He gives her a nod, telling her he’s ready to follow her to the end. Anderson sits in front of the commander, looking more than his age. She bitterly wishes he had a chance for a tranquil retirement among the stars.

“I’m proud of you, Shepard,” Anderson speaks, and it takes her by surprise. “We’re in the home stretch now.”

“No one I’d rather do this with.”

“We’re with you ’til the end,” Garrus chimes in, and his dual-tone voice sounds so tired. Liara just squeezes her hand harder.

But the smile is quickly wiped from Shepard’s face as the shuttle crashes to a halt.

“Well it was nice while it lasted,” she says, before opening the shuttle doors. “Ready?”

Outside is carnage, and the road to the Conduit is crumbled from the impact of the beam. They’re so close, but now it’s by foot now.

“It’s Harbinger!” Liara shouts over the chaos, as Shepard spots the colossal being landing. It's at least five times bigger than the Destroyer they just took down.

“We make a run for it! NOW!” she yells, taking off as the Reaper’s beam cuts through shuttles and soldiers alike. Shepard can only focus on the conduit beam as she navigates the debris, dodging exploding tanks and falling rubble. She watches Harbinger’s laser vaporizes the ground next to her, flipping over a vehicle. It lands right in the path of her team.

“Liara!” Shepard shouts, going back for the Asari and dragging her to cover. Garrus slams his body against the flipped tank as well.

“Normandy, do you copy?! I need an evac right now!” She looks down at Liara, who’s starting to bleed on her.

“We’re taking on heavy losses up here, Commander,” Joker yells through the comms, but moments later the Normandy pulls in. Shepard feels a surge of pride knowing only Joker could pull off a maneuver like that.

“C’mon,” Shepard groans, lifting Liara over her shoulder and running back to Normandy. Other soldiers filter off the ship for ground reinforcement. The earth shakes each time Harbinger’s beam cuts through it.

“Here, take her,” Shepard grunts, handing Liara over to Garrus.

“Shepard!” Liara moans, reaching out as blood trails down her side.

“You gotta get out of here!”

Garrus tries to pull her onto the ship but the asari pushes back.

“I’m alright, Shepard.”

“Don’t argue with me, Liara!”

“You’re not leaving me behind!” she cries. And all Shepard can see is the shy, helpless scientist she first met on Therum.

“No matter what happens,” Shepard steps toward the asari, “you mean everything to me, Liara.”

Tears stream down the asari’s face now as her commander kisses her with the hopelessness of a dead woman walking. Garrus looks away.

“It’ll always be you,” and she wipes away the tears and blood splattered across her azure cheeks.

“Shepard I…”

But behind them, the high-pitch whirling of Harbinger’s charging cannon shrills.

“GO!” Shepard yells, looking at Liara for a final time before sprinting away from the ship.

“I love you!” she hears her lover sob as the loading door closes and the Normandy pulls away, but her focus is on the beam now. She weaves through Harbinger’s lasers until things go white. ____

Time is distorted. She remembers the beam. She remembers the corpses. Somewhere in there, Anderson.

“You did good, kid. You did good.”

And she remembers smiling, feeling proud. But it didn’t last. She took the dog tags and put them over her neck. And she remembers the stillness of watching the chaos in space from inside the Conduit—the muted explosions and fleets of ships outside made her feel like she was underwater. She wonders if Hackett made it.

Then there’s The Child—the one she kept seeing on Earth and in her dreams—and it’s telling her she has to make a choice. She studies the thing, this illusion of a boy, and hopes that Liara made it. She wonder’s what she’ll name their daughter; she wishes she could watch her grow.

And when Shepard walks up to the catalyst, she’s not afraid this time. It’s not like the suffocating, cold, loneliness of space over Alchera. Now, she’s over her home. Earth. With everyone she’s ever loved down there. She holds the other set of dog tags in her hands.

“We did it, Anderson. We did it.” And she fires into the catalyst.

#sobbing crying throwing up #mass effect #mass effect 3 #shiara #my fic #my fics #commander shepard #fanfiction #liara t'soni #shepard x liara #femshep x liara #liara x shepard #angst fic #me3 #mass effect fic #shiara fic

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mylordshesacactus · 4 months

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Chapter 5: Shanxi Roulette

It was called ‘Shanxi Roulette’, and Shepard was not playing. “Coward,” said Garrus mildly, measuring out the last of his line of violently blue, phosphorescant levo shots with a sniper’s precision. “Pussy,” agreed Ash. “If you touch that thing, Shepard,” said Miranda with warm affection, not looking up from her omnitool, “I will kill you myself.”

Or: The Gang Watches Blasto.

#mass effect fic #tali/femshep #jackanda #tali'zorah vas normandy #I'M BACK BABY

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arctrooper69 · 2 years

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Here is the long awaited Masterlist!

And if you'd like to buy a struggling writer a cup of tea you can do so here: Ko-Fi

Thanks so much for enjoying my work! (1000 followers and counting!) ❤️🥰😍

If you wish to be tagged in a specific fic or in general feel free to shoot me a message!

I write for many fandoms including - but not limited to - LOTR, Star Wars (all shows/movies/characters), Marvel, etc - if you want to request anything please send me an ask or a message.

Prompt Lists (lists are not made by me): Hurt/Comfort | Fluff -- feel free to send in your own!

_________________________________________

Clone Wars

Clone Medic Kix:

Nightmares

Come Here Often?

Stayin' Alive

The Hands of Father Time

My Sunshine is Sleeping

Born for This

Busy, Busy

ARC Trooper Fives:

All the Stars in the Sky

Everybody Talks

My Cinderella

Hardcase:

If I Don't Make It Back Alive

Ghosts of You

Captain Rex:

Running Home

Stay

Commander Fox:

A Duty of Forgiveness

Jesse:

Good Soldiers

Eyes Like Champagne

Til the Last Shot's Fired

Commander Wolffe:

In the Middle of the Night

Don't Miss Me

Love is a Battlefield

Come Let Me Love You

Obi-Wan Kenobi:

Jedi Come Down

Marshal Commander Cody:

Forgive Me, My Love

Shining Star

Mysterious Ways

Original Characters:

The Last Mission

What Hurts the Most

The Bad Batch

If It's Cracked... Don't Fix It (A Bad Batch crack fic)

Tech:

Enemies to Lovers

Hiding the Hurt

Love is Good Medicine

Falling is Just Uncontrolled Flying

How Fascinating

Helpless

Crosshair:

Hold Still

Only You

The Tragedy of a Lothcat

Impractical Jokesters

Hate to Love You

Don't Forget

Dark is the Night

Mine

Wrecker:

Unexpected Surprises

Heartbeats

Hunter:

The Things We Fight For

Grasping For Hope

The Trees With the Pretty Flowers

Fire and Ice

As Iron Sharpens Iron

Echo:

Training For Failure

Feels Like Durasteel

Solidarity

Other Star Wars Shows/Movies

Boba Fett:

Coming soon

Mass Effect

His Shoes

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otemporanerys · 4 months

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Life Behind Enemy Lines (Shakarian Fic) - COMPLETE

(Banner by @dulcidyne)

“Commander Farvardin,” said the man at the other end of the galaxy, drawing a cigarette to his lips. “Or do you prefer Shepherd?” Shepherd’s talons dug into the palm of her hands. She’d really hoped he would be in the room with her – then she’d at least have had the option of attack. “Shepherd is fine,” she said, with practiced evenness. “What do you want?” Commander Janna “Shepherd” Farvardin was abandoned by the Hierarchy and resurrected by Cerberus. The enemy of the enemy is my friend, some say - but she’s never believed it.

A Mass Effect Shakarian species swap AU set during ME2. Complete! Link in the reblog

#shakarian #shakarian fan fic #shakarian fan fiction #mass effect fic #mass effect fan fiction #shepard x garrus #femshep x garrus #species swap #my fic

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hungerofhadarr · 1 month

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Lighting Bugs

Thane/Jacob, 1000 words, Gen rating

“What did you call those skycars? Fire-lights?”

“Fireflies, Krios. Lightning bugs.”

#mass effect #thane krios #jacob taylor #thane/jacob #WHAT is the ship name .#thancob #<- sure #mass effect fic

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sockodot · 6 months

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Male Shepard/Garrus Vakarian Characters: Garrus Vakarian, Commander Shepard, Male Shepard Additional Tags: Getting Together, Love Confessions, Arguing Summary:

They're back on fucking Noveria again

#mass effect #shakarian #mshakarian #mass effect fic #garrus vakarian #commander shepard #my writing

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girafficparka · 6 months

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Gorgeous and actually buff Shepard - check

Flight suit Garrus showing a little sumthin’ sumthin’ extra - check

Talons and claws! - check

Best friends with benefits who are too caught up in their own heads to realize it might be love - also check

Milkywayes (go check out their tumblr- shakarian perfection) is an amazing artist and did this comish for my ao3 fanfic Comparative Anatomy. Thank you love!

Welcome into my brain people - I can’t get these two idiots out of it.

#they love each other so much it’s stupid #femshep x garrus #garrus x shepard #garrus my beloved #shakarian #garrus x femshep #shepard x garrus #garrusvakarian #female shepard #milkywayes #I swear I’ll stop posting this and finish the sequel eventually #mass effect fic

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continuous-spec · 6 months

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Mass Effect Fic: Bait (1/5)

Summary: Garrus struggles with jealousy as Shepard acts as bait for Morinth.

Length: 2,160

Links: AO3

Purple and red neon lights danced off Garrus' visor. The ever-looming words of Afterlife had become routine during his two-year stint on Omega. He walked past, moving to a side wall where a thin turian loitered.

"Jauurut sent me," Garrus coughed out as he approached.

With a grunt, the turian hit a panel, almost indistinguishable from the others. The neon lights grew and spun. The wall slid to the side. Thrumming dark tones and dimly pink lights greeted Garrus on the VIP floor of Afterlife.

"You fight, and you're out. Defending yourself is fine. Be careful in there, and enjoy your time."

Omega was the last place Garrus wanted to be, especially not enjoy. His eyes darted around, waiting for someone to ambush him. He took a breath to calm himself. Very few people knew Archangel's true face. Well, those who did were now dead. And with the new scars and outfit change to blend with the clientele, Garrus may as well have been a new turian.

He worked his way through the crowd to the corner of the bar. The seat allowed him a good view of the entrance and dance floor. Four empty seats surrounded him.

Garrus sat crowded by several of his men at the bar. Ripper's long limbs hung on Garrus as he drank in celebration. Weaver and Sidonis laughed, clapping each other on the back, while Meleni watched the crowd. Pride swelled in Garrus’ chest, watching his team grow and bond. They could take on anything Omega threw at them.

A blue hand waving in his face snapped him back. He needed to focus, to leave his men in the past.

“Hey, big guy, this seat taken?”

“Take your pick,” Garrus gestured to the empty seats.

“Thanks! Just need a break from dancing. I’m Vlyrica.”

Garrus cheered his drink towards her.

“Caeus.”

“Not so chatty are we?” She asked with a hint of glee.

“I can if you need me to be.”

“I like that answer.” Her bright white teeth flashed out.

The young asari, no more than a century old, plopped down to the nearest seat. Liquor wafted from her breath onto Garrus. Bright pink markings under her eyes popped with the light blue of her skin. A tight green dress covered most of her body. She’d played as a good distraction. He chatted with her, only half listening as he scanned the bar for the asari he was looking for.

Morinth.

A plan dreamed up by Samara, no doubt, to lure the all-powerful asari with Shepard as bait.

Shepard had planned to do this alone, with only Samara hiding in the shadows. He couldn't have that. Shepard had already gotten herself poisoned and stabbed on two different accounts on the asteroid. Now, with no armor? Or weapon? She needed more than just to be live bait.

Besides, he knew Omega. He was best for the job. He fitted in. He wouldn't register as long as he kept his head down and stayed drinking.

Garrus continued to talk with the young asari. He half listened, nodded along, and chimed in when appropriate. Vlyrica laughed, continued drinking, and babbled on as Garrus scanned the scenery.

A drunk turian making a nuisance of himself with one of the dancers in one corner, a krogan thug in the next, and journalists about to get themselves killed. The usual for Omega. But he still waited for one person in particular.

The wall to the entrance hissed. Purple and red lights illuminated Shepard's figure as she walked in. A black dress clung to her body, and red-lined patterns decorated her waist. Dark brown hair slicked back to her waist, swaying with each step. Black and red makeup surrounded her eyes.

Shepard turned heads as she walked in alone. Garrus tried not to be one of them. But the patterns on her dress accentuated her muscles as she walked. He allowed himself a quick look and went back to Vlyrica.

Within ten minutes of her entrance, she dismantled two gang operations with the threat of her presence, saving a journalist in the process. It was disheartening how easily she fit into a role Garrus had worked hard at for two years.

Finishing up, Shepard made a beeline to the bartender. She gave a curt glance and nothing more to Garrus. Only ten feet away, but for now, they were strangers.

Garrus avoided watching her, focusing on the young asari next to him.

A laugh escaped Shepard's mouth as she spoke with the bartender. Fake. While all human laughs sounded the same to him. Shepard’s had a distinct nature. A surprised snort usually came from her. Unattractive, at least according to the human crew who noted it. But to Garrus, it was just very much Shepard.

This laugh was light and controlled, but with an all too convincing smile, as she placed her hand on the human bartender's forearm.

Garrus tried not to react or notice it, but his good mandible flicked out. The same carefully placed hand she had put on Garrus' forearm when she proposed their arrangement.

Blowing off steam.

They weren't anything serious—friends with an arrangement. But how to start that arrangement has been nothing more than a highly intense operation for him. When he tried to initiate, based on all the research, he had not gotten far.

Garrus' ungloved hand, trimmed talons, circled the small of Shepard's back. Her chest began to form a red bloom that soon rose to her face. Shepard bolted up from her seat and excused herself to the restroom. She came out, fresh-faced, smelling floral-like, and sat closer to him, almost atop him. His hands fumbled nervously around her, unsure how to continue with the interruption. They spend the rest of the night just talking and building model ships.

A high, intense voice cut through the embarrassing memories, returning him to the dark neon club.

"And then I'll be traveling to Palaven after finishing here. I still have a few more pieces in the works."

Vlyrica looked up to him, waiting for a response. Eyes light and full of life. Too sweet for Omega and was most likely to get herself killed sooner if she didn't follow through with those plans.

"So why Omega for your project? Do you actually have to be here, or is it some kind of starving artist thing?"

"I guess 'cause my father was from here. He was an artist, too." She paused, looking off towards the crowd, and continued.

"I want to create amazing oil portraits like him. My goal is to capture the true essence of the citizens of the city they inhabit. Not just the gangs or politics, but the hardworking people trying to get by."

Garrus tried not to laugh at the endeavor. The true, hardworking people were either dead or barely getting by to be at a club. His men wouldn’t get such recognition.

"Is that why you're talking to me?"

"Well, would you call yourself hardworking?" She laughed at her retort.

"Maybe, but what got you talking to me?"

She turned her head, avoiding his gaze. "Your scars caught my eye."

Garrus froze, not liking the direction of the conversation. She could be genuinely interested in him or have figured him out to be Archangel.

But she continued at his discomfort. "I've never seen a turian with scars like that before. They look fresh. Did you get them here?"

Garrus' mandibles flicked out in irritation again. Pain shot through his jaw on the damaged side. The bandages were off, and the plates healed over, but he still barely had function on his right side.

"I don't mean to offend! I mean, umm, I just think they would make for an interesting subject for a painting." Vlyrica blurred out. "You would, I mean."

Garrus sighed with relief. She was either a fantastic actor or a typical artist.

"None taken. It's nice to know they are more than just an eyesore."

"You are definitely not an eyesore." She looked at him, eyes wide, and a purple hue formed on her cheeks. Garrus coughed, uncomfortable with the attention on himself.

"Well, you should leave Omega soon. The tide pool beaches of Cipritine are pristine this time of year. They'll dry up by the end of the season."

"Oh, I'll have to look into that!" Vlyrica followed along with the change in topic. "You know Ilium beaches…" she continued, acting as his great cover.

Shepard remained in his peripheral as he listened to Vlyrica. Shepard’s hand still rested on the bartender. Garrus’ mandibles flicked again at the sight. The irritation worsened as Shepard's voice cooed over the intercom, far too airy and light than Garrus had ever heard from her.

"Now, what if the whole bar could have a round on you, Edwin?" Shepard's hand trailed up his arm. The bartender laughed and stammered over Shepard as she stared into him.

"Alright, just this once, and you know…my shift ends in a few hours if you're gonna stick around."

"We'll see about that," Shepard played along as she sipped her drink and winked.

The bartender began wiping up drinks for anyone in earshot of the bar. Vlyrica sat up with excitement.

"Oh, how cool! Thank you!" Vlyrica slurred out, reaching for her new drink. "Same for you, big guy?" She nudged into Garrus with a smile.

Garrus almost felt Shepard's glare as Vlyrica hung off of him, but her attention moved to other patrons before he could be sure.

"Sure, but you should probably be taking it easy. Omega is not somewhere you want to stumble around drunk.

"Ohh, you're no fun!"

"Okay, fine. One more, then," Garrus laughed as he took his drink. He raised his glass and cheered with her.

"I'm glad I can be so convincing," Vlyrica giggled as she took a sip.

As the free drinks arrived, the teeming crowd cheered. Shepard raised her glass to the other patrons. She winked in the general direction of the cheers, carefully not towards Garrus.

Even then, the heat on his neck began to rise, and plates in his chest plates moved and caught on each other as his heart rate increased. One drink over an hour, but he still felt on edge with a buzz in his system. And how Shepard moved and acted was not helping.

A wry smile formed on Shepard's lips as her fingertips trailed along the bartop. She moved on to her next target to grab attention to herself- not that she needed to do much else. Garrus tried not to watch her walk away, but he still stole a glance. Shattering glass interrupted the sight of her swaying waist and hips.

"I said I want you, not more booze," The obnoxious turian leered over a dancer. He had become more belligerent as the night went on. "Come on. We can go back to my place. I have the creds."

"I'm a dancer, not a hooker! Security!" The dancer screamed, looking in Garrus' direction, eyes wide and wild. Garrus almost left his seat as a voice came over his comms.

"Garrus, do not get up. Let Shepard handle it." Samara's ice-cold voice stopped him, as if she kill him on the spot if he moved.

A bark came from Shepard, almost like order, as she separated the turian from the dancer.

"Sober up and stop bothering her."

The drunk sneered and laughed while looking down at Shepard. He had almost a meter on her.

"If I can't have her, you'll do just fine." His hand shot forcefully at her waist, enough for Shepard to step back.

Garrus gripped his hands on the bar, stinging with anger at the sight. He tried not to bring attention to himself. He didn't trust Samara but had to trust Shepard to handle it herself.

Without a word, the drunk's hand unnaturally bent back and fell to the floor in a crumpled mess.

The asari dancer kicked past him to thank Shepard. "Thank you! Security was asleep."

"No problem," Shepard laughed at the statement. "I barely touched him."

As Shepard left, an asari in a skin-tight black jumpsuit emerged from the shadows. The asari's eyes lingered up and down Shepard's form. Garrus couldn't tell if it was from lust or hunger.

"I've been watching you. You're the most interesting person in this place."

"He was nothing." Shepard's voice came out calm and confident as she watched the asari. Waiting for her next move.

"I don't doubt it. It seems you handle yourself quite well."

"Oh? Well, whose noticing?"

"I'm Morinth. Why don't you join me at my table? I'd love to know more about you."

A pit formed in Garrus' stomach–the plan worked.

"Lead the way."

Morinth placed her hand on the small of Shepard's back. Garrus watched the same red bloom spread from her chest to her face. He gritted his fangs together and dug his grip tighter into the bar.

He had to trust Shepard.

#mass effect #shakarian #commander shepard #garrus vakarian #mass effect fic #happy n7 day :)#got some inspo with replaying!

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dwarrowdams · 4 months

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Garrus wrapped his cloak more tightly around him as he made his way out to the gardens. He’d planned to spend the morning in his room, studying up on tactics before practicing them in the training area, but a message from the princess had swiftly changed his plans. Princess Liv Astrea Shepard: First snow of the season! Meet me in the gardens so we can see it together. It was a welcome change in plans: Garrus had only ever seen snow in vids and holos, and he wasn’t about to pass up the chance to see it with the princess, so he’d dug his cloak out from the back of his closet and rushed downstairs.

Continue Reading on AO3

#hush Bree #fealty fic #since that's the tag for the 'verse #this is pure fluff and cuteness #and some huddling for warmth #mass effect fanfiction #garrus vakarian #mass effect fic

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skinnyazn · 10 months

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Just One More Question...

Pairing: Commander Shepard x Liara T'Soni Chapters: 1/1 Notes: just a short drabble for sad girl time, wrote this so I could make my heart ache again,

“Just one more question, Doctor T’Soni…” The reporter shifts on his feet, adjusting the silver cufflink on his suit—a memento of a bygone era. “It’s been nearly four centuries, but I read that you worked closely with Commander Shepard. In your own words, can you tell us what the Commander was like?”

And for a moment it all comes rushing back. Every touch, the heartbreak, and all the shared breaths in between.

Liara opens her mouth to speak but finds her voice slow to come.

“Shepard was… an incredible woman.”

And in memory she hears the select words she’s never spoken to anyone else. Feels her inescapable gravity—this human with brilliant red hair and defiant green eyes. Beautiful. Courageous. Strong.

“The Commander influenced every life she entered.”

Liara remembers rough yet gentle hands. How the woman accomplished peace in spite of each unfavorable circumstance; how she could bring even the most adverse opponents together for the same cause.

“She was a true friend and a wonderful mentor.”

She recalls the heartbreak of sifting for Shepard’s corpse among the rubble of a broken Normandy, in the cold indifference of space. Remembers, too, the elation of holding her again—the warmth of her skin, with new scars to touch and freckles to trace. And feels her heart ache with every unfulfilled promise made.

Liara’s fingers twitch, forever yearning the impossible.

“And I miss her very much.”

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stormikins · 7 months

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Wip whenever!

Tagged by the wonderful @jtownnn thank you!

No pressure tags: @callista-curations @commander-krios @spacebunshep and anyone else who wants to share something! Make sure to tag me in it!

—

“Come on, what’s with the face?” Shepard prompts.

Garrus is still glowering as he suddenly reaches out to grasp his jaw with one hand, tilting Shepard’s head so he can get a better look at the cut on his temple. Shepard freezes, not at all prepared for the knowledge of how big Garrus’ hand is on his face. “You’re too reckless.”

He grins with bloody teeth. “Hell of a light show, though.”

“You already have my attention, Shepard,” Garrus mutters, eyes unmoving from the injury. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about Shepard’s expression going shocked. He slightly shakes Shepard’s head and meets his eyes. “You need to stop being idiotic. I don’t want you dying on me. Again.”

Shepard grapples for the banter that normally comes so easy to him. “Just means it’ll be easier to come back.”

Garrus snorts and lets go of his head. “Right. I’d rather not take my chances with that.”

“What would you take your chances with?”

Garrus merely tilts his head to the side, eyes locked on his for a long moment. He turns away without saying anything.

#mass effect #my writing #shakarian #mshakarian #Garrus Vakarian #commander Shepard #mass effect fic

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naomifj97 · 1 year

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Hoping and wishing

"Garrus is a sniper. He knows about waiting."

Shepard makes a choice in the Crucible that should’ve cost her life. But also should have suffocating in the depths of her spacesuit and falling off from a planet’s atmosphere like a falling star.

Or: In which Commander “I don’t die easily cause I’m pretty much immortal at this point” Shepard refuses to leave and Garrus hopes that’s enough for them.

Hi! Haven't been posting here in a while, but life has been a bit difficult lately and my creativity is suffering consequences. However, last saturday my friends and I went to a thematic Mass Effect party (surpirse! I'm a Mass Effect fan, too) and I had the urge to post this very short oneshot that has been on my laptop for like...two years, I think? Nevermind. I'm Shakarian trash and still in denial about the ending of Mass Effect 3, so, enjoy!

"I'm falling

In all the good times I find myself

Longing for a change

And in the bad times I fear myself

I’m off the deep end, watch as I dive in

I’ll never meet the ground

Crash through the surface, where they can’t hurt us

We’re far from the shallow now

In the shallow, shallow”

She’d been told she would die. He said she’d die.

Death and she were old friends. Close enough to know how the other behaved, smelled, felt.

But she was Commander Shepard. Cheating death, escaping from its claws, was something she’d became pretty good at.

She had to admit that, for a second, she thought she would.

And then, collapse came. Her body’s, that just couldn’t support the burden of her devastated system; the platform’s, that was swallowed by the weight of her decision.

She felt everything. The burning in her skin, her cells ripping apart, the shocking wave. And the fire. The problem had been the fire. It licked the shattered pieces of her torn, ripped armour, burying her in an indistinguishable mass of ravished flesh, metal shards and broken pieces.

So no. Not this time.

While the rumbling started, the Citadel exploded and the Crucible fell apart around her, Shepard found herself remembering Garrus. His jokes and his warm voice, the purring of his subvocals, the ones he thought she couldn’t hear, the soft stroking of his talons in her back during late hours of the night, when sleep was too stubborn to arrive, or the feeling of his words whispered under breaths in her hair when he thought she was too asleep to notice.

She thought of everything she was going to miss.

Before everything went black, Shepard thought that maybe, this was really it.

It isn’t.

She’s pretty sure she’s dead.

She can’t see anything.

She can’t hear anything.

She can’t feel anything.

Until the pain hits, so sudden she can’t help but gasp.

She’s breathing.

—I’m sorry. We…we haven’t found her.

Admiral Hackett’s words feel deaf, hollow in his brain.

—She has to be somewhere!

Joker’s reply is a bit louder, like a voice suffocating under dark waters.

Garrus can’t force himself to worry. Or care.

Was that what she had felt? That first time, after the Collector’s attack, with her damaged suit, suffocating, trying to breath but not finding air, wandering around with nowhere to go. That second time, when the Crucible crumbled over her while the Reapers suddenly stopped in their trays and fell to the ground like lifeless puppets whose strings are suddenly cut.

—The ruins are still there.

—Doctor T’Soni…

—If the remains of the Crucible are there, that means Shepard may be, too. We’ll dig her out. Give me a shovel, I’ll do it myself.

Of course she would.

—Even if she’s…still there…there’s no way she could have survived.

That’s obvious.

Even if the explosion that had ended with the Reapers had not killed her, the fall of the Crucible should have.

But she’s Shepard.

She’s been dead before.

And not even Death has been able to stop her.

—She’s not dead.

His voice sounds strange to him. Hoarser. Fiercer.

—Vakarian. I understand-

No, he doesn’t. No one else does.

—She’s not dead.

Commander Shepard made him a promise. And she has never failed him.

So, Garrus hopes.

Why? He doesn’t know.

It’s only during the long scanning of the battlefield, over the battered ground covered in ashes, blood and broken dreams, searching for her in the place he saw her for the last time, that he realizes it’s because he knows that their first can’t be their last “I love you”.

EDI finds her first.

Her radar catches the soft, minimal thumbing of her heart, so mild that other sensors would have missed it.

She races towards the spot, transmitting her position to Tali, Liara and Garrus, falls to her knees, and starts digging. By the time she finds her arm, three more pair of hands, one with five fingers, two with three, have joined her.

Tali radios Joker, tells him to get Doctor Chawkas ready for them and set a course to the nearest medical centre. Liara stabilizes her vitals with such an amount of medi-gel she may had gotten high on it wasn’t she so outside her body, and EDI connects herself to the implants that have kept her alive despite death to make sure they don’t stop working.

And Garrus picks her up, prepares her for transport, keeping her torn and exhausted body (or what’s left of it) together.

Shepard breathes.

And Garrus breathes with her.

Miranda works with the doctors. She pushes them, screams at them, sometimes, when they don’t do as she commands, when they say that’s simply not possible.

Bullshit.

She brought Shepard back from the dead once.

They don’t get to tell her what’s possible from what’s not.

There’s nothing impossible to her.

Kaidan, Hackett and Vega are fighting with the Council for resources to keep Shepard alive.

They say she’s not going to make it.

But the Alliance is not giving in this time.

Because they did once, and Shepard paid the consequences. Because she’s in an operating room fighting for her life as they speak because they did not support her. Because she’s dying cause the Council refused to listen, refused to believe.

Because Shepard is a hero.

The discussion ends when Urdnot Bakara arrives to the Normandy’s communications room and menaces with unlashing a horde of angry krogan if they don’t pay. By her side, Urdnot Wrex growls in a signal of support.

And then, the Council decides to pay.

Grunt is a bit disappointed, but, well, he can handle it.

Because Shepard is going to survive.

They’ve done everything they could, they said to him.

Now, all that’s left is waiting.

Garrus is a sniper.

He knows about waiting.

He’s good at it.

So he sits down near her bed, counting her breathings and taking note of all her heartbeats, eyes fixed in the bandages that cover her body.

He’s made a mental list of her wounds. Knows is not healthy, but he just couldn’t help it. Burns, cuts, bruises, broken bones, destroyed tissue. A lot repaired, but also a lot permanently scarred.

She needs time.

He sits and listens, in the quietness, the fear that creeps in his chest, but also the blind hope. He asks the spirits for a chance, the last chance, because they’ve come too far to end this way.

Doctors says she’s a fighter. She refuses to leave.

And Garrus hopes. He just hopes. He chuckles a bit, too, because of course Shepard is a fighter.

Of course she’s stubborn. Of course she’s not leaving.

She promised.

So, the afternoon he feels her hand moving in his talon, her eyes fluttering lazily awake and the light smile she gives him in the haze of pain-killers, analgesics, skin grafts, needles and gauzes, he thinks he should’ve known better from the beginning.

Her voice is low, barely a whisper, but Garrus hears her as she had screamed in victory.

—So…a human-turian baby, was it?

He smiles.

Shepard and Garrus deserved better. Hope you liked it!

A/N: Team effort to save Shepard? Sign me the fuck in.

I kinda invented my own ending for this because I'll never get over the three ones we are given in the game. Also, are you really telling me that Cerberus tech could bring Shepard back to life in ME2 but not after ME3? Not buying it, Bioware.

#shakarian #garrus vakarian #femshep #commander shepard #female shepard #shepard x garrus #mass effect #mass effect fic

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