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thanekrios · 2 years

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i love one (1) trilogy💜💜💜

#take the crayons away from me #mass effect #jack nought #primarch victus #commander shepard #galiedits #mass effect edit

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balerionthedead · 2 years

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i love him immensely. adrien is literally my fav character. i see him and i :)

also fucking criminal that there are no phaestons on menae.

#ough im feeling things for this guy #🥰🥰🥰🥰#adrien victus #primarch victus #mass effect #my art #im never drawing turian armour ever again #that was so painful.#scribbles

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2lim3rz · 7 months

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I wanna date primarch victus

#primarch victus #mass effect #mass effect 3

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lieutenantabrudas · 7 months

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"well i haven't drawn in a long time so i'll start with something simple," i said. "maybe some headshots," i said.

obviously my return to drawing is going to dive headfirst into the jar of blorbos so obscure they don't even have canon appearances. this is my design for primarch fedorian, the primarch who's killed off-screen in me3 during the reaper war so victus can be in charge. in my writing, his first name is elaphus, and he was a colonel on shanxi under command of general desolas arterius. the incident on shanxi that resulted in his scars and eyepatch also earned him his general's stars, plus some fun medals (including the star of palaven!) and later even helped boost him in the rankings to eventually become primarch of palaven. he's very highly respected by both his own people and aliens, and even gets the bow of approval from his former CO himself; even aliens who aren't generally keen on turians tend to admit fedorian is a good'un.

he's also frequently high on turian gossip rag empire weekly's list of top most desirable drakes in the empire, because look at him. he's tragically straight and devoted to his wife but hey celebrity crushes ain't a crime

#mass effect #turians #fedorian #primarch fedorian #mefanart #mass effect fanart #'soren did you mention that last bit because sparky and teia-' yes <3 #where's the light source in this? fuck if i know #drawing #elaphus fedorian #digital

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omniblades-and-stars · 6 months

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The Way

Part i. | Part ii. | Part iii.

iii.

It’s uncanny, really. How does she always manage to show up just when things are going to the worst kind of shit and everything seems like it’s going to burn to the ground?

She’s like that. A beacon of hope.

It’s in the way that she holds herself like a respectable, serious soldier when she’s dealing with his people. When he sees her, on the very same moon he’s fighting for his life on of all places, talking to General Corinthus, he couldn’t be more proud.

She’s stoic, reserved, her shoulders are squared back, not threatening, she’s just standing like soldiers are expected to. Her gaze never leaves Corinthus while she is speaking to him. “Just tell me where to find Victus, and I’ll do it,” she says matter-of-fact. Because she’s the kind of woman who just gets things done, even when it’s not even close to her job to do it.

She waits until they’re far out of earshot of any soldiers high enough in the chain-of-command to care before she drops the hardened soldier act. “Garrus, I was so worried I wouldn’t see you again. When they hit Earth … It was so much worse than I thought it would be.”

And he knows she’s under exaggerating, because she thought it was going to be bad, but the catch in her voice tells him everything he needs to know.

The situation on Earth is as bad, or worse, as Palaven.

And she almost didn’t make it out.

It's in the way that she missed him. The very second the Primarch is settled in and she's dealt with … whatever's going on with EDI, she strides into the gun battery and locks the door. She's already shrugging out of her dress blues before he can even turn around. One of her shoes goes flying somewhere past his head as she hops up and down, kicking her legs to get out of her pants. She looks ridiculous.

"You'd think the Alliance could spring for fabric that isn't a nightmare for the dress uniforms, but it's like they actually paid extra to have the itchiness sewn right in."

"What are you doing, Shepard?" He asks while chuckling and reaching for the clasps on his armor. He knows, because it's not like she's being subtle.

She has a lot of strong suits, but subtlety isn't one of them.

She stops her hopping, the leg of her pants is stuck on her foot, and she smiles. "I've been stuck in a room for six months. If you think that I'm going to wait a second longer to touch you again, you've lost your damn mind. You're lucky I waited this long. Your human girlfriend was this close to causing an intergalactic incident by jumping you in the middle of a tactical meeting with high ranking officers." She manages to yank herself free of the pant leg, her sock going along with it.

He's pretty sure he'll never get used to her calling herself his girlfriend.

"There are worse ways to cause a diplomatic nightmare," he says as the pieces of his armor fall to the ground. He's not generally so blasé about his gear, but … Well …

If you had the Commander Shepard stripping in your quarters, you wouldn't care about scratches or dents on your chest plate either, now would you?

She pushes him to the cot he's set up in the battery and climbs onto his lap. Her hands are all over him, and his are all over her. Her arms are bigger, he notices. In fact, it seems like she's bulked up a little all over. Not that she was ever a small-framed woman, but he can tell she’s been working on what she used to joke with Ash and Kaidan about as “glamor muscles”.

He likes it.

She must notice how he's touching her because she says, "Didn't have a lot to occupy myself with, so I spent a lot of time working out with James." Her explanation is broken up by the kisses she's planting all over his face and neck.

"Oh, so you spent a lot of time with Vega, huh? He seems … nice," Garrus teases. He knows he has nothing to worry about. Shepard isn't that kind of girl. "Attractive, for a human."

"Who, James? Sure, he's cute, in the way a lost puppy's cute." She presses her forehead to his and smiles against his mouth, "He's a beefcake, but lucky for you, Garrus Vakarian, I prefer my men … bony." She flicks one of his plates for emphasis.

"So you still think you're funny?" He chuckles into her neck.

"I know I'm funny," she answers smugly. But then she grows quiet and still, and he looks up at her to see that her brows are knit together. She's chewing on her lip, and it looks like she's holding back tears. "Missed you, Big Guy," she says quietly.

"Spirits, I missed you too." Understatement of a lifetime, he thinks.

She presses herself against him, somehow getting closer despite how she was already against him, and she sighs. She's clinging to him with her whole body, and she's so warm and he's missed her so much he never wants to let go.

This time is slow and sweet. They just need to touch.

It’s in the way she stands on her principles, even in the face of a galaxy that is telling her, “No, that’s insane!” He's not there when she marches back into the conference room to give the Dalatrass a piece of her mind.

But he hears about it. Primarch Victus recounts it dryly, with very little detail. His version is probably closer to the truth, but Wrex's version is far more entertaining.

"So she stomps back in there and lifts the Dalatrass by her robes and shouts, 'Don't you think your people have done enough to fuck up the galaxy? Now I'm going to fix your mistakes, bitch.' And then she headbutts her," Wrex retells the story with incredible, bombastic exaggeration (and several outright lies). "If I didn't know any better, I'd think she was a tiny krogan herself. She's got quad." He has to agree, she is ballsy.

Garrus is pretty sure Shepard did not headbutt the salarian Dalatrass.

Spirits, he hopes she didn't headbutt the salarian Dalatrass.

It's in the way she mourns. She's red-faced, while gut wrenching sobs wrack her body as she stands with her forehead pressed against the memorial wall on the crew deck. She's holding a plaque bearing the name "Thane Krios" in her hands. She tried to slide it next to Mordin's but her hands are shaking so badly that she's given up.

"They should have had more time," she says barely above a whisper. "Mordin, Thane … fuck," her voice cracks and he turns her so she can bury her head against his chest. The plaque goes crashing to the ground and she clutches at whatever handholds she can find on his armor. "He should have had more time with Kolyat."

Thane's death hits her hard. Not only because they were friends, though they were close. Her parents died when she was a teenager. She mourns for the pain Kolyat feels as much as her own. It's a pain she knows all too well.

Garrus understands. There's never enough time with them.

He misses his mom.

It's in the way that her reckless disregard for her own life drives him insane. She jumps into an untested diving mech without a second thought and disappears beneath the surface before he can utter more than a sentence begging her not to.

The waiting makes him crazy. She's not responding on the hailing frequency. And they literally have no way to mount a rescue if something's gone wrong. He's so tense he might just start taking potshots at the crashed cruiser they've landed on. He's pacing, Ash is pacing, and Cortez is desperately trying, and unfortunately failing, to keep the two of them level headed about it.

At least there's occasional drops of Reaper troops to keep him somewhat occupied. He's seconds away from leaping into the water himself.

And then another pulse happens, and the waters around them start to wave. And as if he has not already seen enough once-in-a-lifetime crazy things for several lifetimes, he sees something to top them all. Rising from the water is an enormous creature that looks eerily similar to some of the Reaper ships.

And then another.

He's not sure what Shepard is doing under there, but it has to be "batshit" insane, as she would call it. Because what's happening topside is damn near incomprehensible. On top of the sea monsters leaving the ocean and taking to space flight right before his very confused eyes, the remaining Reaper forces are turning on each other, suddenly oblivious to their presence.

Minutes later the mech bursts up from the depths and Shepard stumbles out, and immediately loses consciousness. She comes back to in the shuttle, there is blood all over the lower part of her mouth smeared from the intense nosebleed she must have had.

"Shepard, are you alright?" he asks, grasping her shoulders. His grasp on his sanity is slipping and the longer she doesn't answer, the closer he comes actually flipping out.

She coughs and then smiles, it looks a little delirious, too goofy to be appropriate for what's been happening. "Yeah … yeah. Just um … just partied too hard with the ultra-ancient progenitors of the Reapers. Worked out though."

He's so relieved, so charmed by her ability to laugh even in the face of the impossible, and so, so very upset with her. He pulls her into his arms, and she's all but dead weight still. "Never do that again," he says into her hair. He wishes he never had to let go.

"You say that like I'm always doing insane deep sea dives."

"Shepard," he groans.

"You know I can't promise not to take risks like that, Garrus. But … I'll try to be smarter about it."

He knows it's really all he can ask. It still drives him crazy.

It's in the way she does the impossible again and again. The quarians and the geth seem intent on killing each other and destroying themselves in the process. But then she's standing between Legion and Tali, and she does it. She convinces the quarian fleet to stop their offensive and just like that … a battle hundreds of years in the making is over.

Legion is gone, but the rest of the geth are offering to help with the fight against the Reapers and to help the quarians rebuild their homeworld.

And so quarians have their homeworld again. All in a day's work, apparently.

Tali takes off her helmet. She breathes the unfiltered air of the home she never thought she would have. She feels the wind on her uncovered face.

She is home.

How can one woman be at the center of so much good in the galaxy? She puts everything she's got into making the universe a better place.

And more confounding of all, why does she want to be with him?

He doesn't understand it, but Spirits, he's glad she does.

It's in the way that she sleeps. She curls around his body and throws a leg over him, trapping him beneath her sleep-deadened weight. He doesn't mind it. In fact, he cherishes it.

She holds him tighter when she has the nightmares. And they come more and more often. Her hands twitch like she's trying to grab something, and she whispers, "I'm sorry," in a barely intelligible slur. Thessia hit her hard.

There are nights, rare though they are, where she sleeps peacefully. He manages to pry himself free without waking her to get something to drink. When he returns from the bathroom, she's sprawled out, her hair fanned out over her pillow, and quite frankly, a tangled mess.

The soft blue light from the aquarium plays over her skin, and Spirits, she just looks so soft. Even in the midst of all of this terror, the heartbreak, the impossible odds, his heart is full.

He sends her a message:

It's late. Just got up for some water. You're still asleep. Wanted to say how beautiful I think you are. Love G

When he carefully crawls back into the bed, she immediately curls back around him, trapping him beneath her sleep-deadened weight. He doesn't mind it.

Spirits, he cherishes this.

It's in the way she looks in that dress. Hot damn. He finds her fighting for her life at a car lot of all places, and seriously … damn. Distracting does not even begin to cover it.

"My eyes are up here, Big Guy," she says with a wide grin as she points at her chest. It's clear from the flush igniting down past the low cut neck of the dress that she is thinking about all the things she wants him to do to her in it. He is too.

That confidence is still apparent when they come face to face with her clone (yet another thing to add to the list of impossible things he's seen in the recent days.) He's not sure he's ever going to be able to recover from that shock.

"I’m Commander Shepard, I never hide," Fake Shepard says with a voice that does not belong to her.

Real Shepard, his Shepard, looks up at the her standing the next floor up, and then down at her own armored chest before cracking a ridiculous, toothy grin. "Nah, my rack is way better. No one would ever fall for it." Like she is absolutely unphased by the revelation that she has a clone and that clone is trying to kill her and usurp her life. "Bet I'm a better dancer too."

Literally everybody groans.

She's not even phased by being trapped in a dense, metal vault with quickly evaporating oxygen. She's just mad that her clone quoted her.

"I don't sound like that," she says obstinately.

"Yes, you do, Shepard," Garrus and Wrex say simultaneously.

She crosses her arms, "No, I do not. I'm way cooler. I always say, "Talk to ya later," leave 'em wanting more because I don't. And cause they get a good look at my bangin’ ass as I walk away."

"You've literally never said that. And you do talk to them again."

"Shepard, as fun as this is, how are we going to get out of here? I'm not dying in this tube," Wrex cuts in.

"Oh, right. Glyph!"

She's still arguing about how she ends conversations as they race to save the Normandy from … her.

It's in the way finally, finally he renders her a stuttering, nervous wreck on the dance floor. She swears she'll get revenge. Absolutely worth it to see her blushing in that dress again.

They barely make it back to the apartment. The dress does not survive.

It's in the way that her mercy has limits. It's too much, the pressure, the anger, the pain is boiling over, he can tell that it's about to come exploding out of her like the blast from a nuclear warhead as they move through Cronos Station.

Unfortunately, reality still exists outside of her apartment, and they have to get back into the fight again.

And then Kai Leng makes the very stupid mistake of trying to catch her with her guard down.

Shepard breaks his stupid, impractical sword, before she grabs him by the collar of his armor. She throws him to the ground and she burns with raging, electric blue fire. She's on top of him in a flash, screaming as she pulverizes him with her fists.

"Is there nothing human left in you? How could you see what happened on Thessia because of you and not know that you're the one who's wrong? I could have stopped all of this so much earlier!" She's shaking the man, who is barely holding onto the tethers of life. She punches him square against the temple, Garrus can hear something crack. "For Thessia."

Then she reaches for the broken remnants of the assassin's blade and drives it hard into his chest. "For Thane, you son of a bitch. Go to hell," she growls and then spits in his face as he dies. It’s shockingly disrespectful.

Garrus has never seen her so angry. She looks wild, her eyes are wide, frantic, her chest heaves, and tears fall as she catches her breath.

Maybe it says something unflattering about him, but he doesn't care, he's proud of her. The man deserved much worse than that.

It's in the way they say goodbye. He hopes it's not goodbye, he has faith in their chances.

He has faith in her.

"We're going to do this together, Vakarian. Like we were always meant to. So you'd better learn to duck," she says with a half smile. Her eyes are wet, and her voice is right on the verge of breaking.

"Sorry, turians don't know how. But I'll improvise. " She grips his hands tight. "Forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you: Come back alive. It'd be an awfully empty galaxy without you." They hold each other, and she presses a kiss to his mouth. Tears spill over, and he can taste them.

"If I don't make it out of this, just … you're never alone, alright? I'll be watching you from somewhere up there."

He says, “Never,” because it’s what she needs to hear. But he knows that a galaxy without her in it is not a galaxy he wants to live in.

During the push to get to the transport beam, his worst fears come hurtling into reality. An IFV explodes, practically right on top of him. Ducking probably would not have helped. Shepard’s calling in an evac before he regains his senses. She and Javik are helping to carry him to the Normandy’s waiting cargo bay.

“Go! You have to get out of here!” she shouts over the earth shattering sound of Reaper laser fire.

“And you’ve got to be kidding me!” he shouts back. His heart is pounding, cold fear clenches his gut.

She shakes her head, “Don’t argue, Garrus. I have to do this.”

“We’re in this until the end.”

They’re supposed to do this together.

Her hand is caressing his face, and it takes everything he has not to just grab her by the arms and pull her onto the ship with him. “No matter what happens here, you know I love you. I always will.”

“Shepard, I … love you too.”

“Go!” she shouts as she sprints away to go do the most reckless, dangerous, suicidal, brave, selfless, heroic thing any person in the known universe has ever done.

And it breaks his heart.

It's in the way she’s victorious. His heart is broken and it hurts worse than the pain from his injury. But at the same time, his heart is full of pride.

She's done it.

For years they've fought this battle. And as that terrifying red beam chases the Normandy through the relay, he knows that she's done it. Maybe it cost her her life (they don't know yet), but she has defeated an enemy so powerful, so huge, that it was supposed to be impossible.

Shepard has done the impossible …

Again.

When the Normandy crash lands, it's not as bad as they all worried. EDI is gone, and that's heartbreaking too. But the crew is able to get the Normandy in the air again with a few days of hard work.

There's destruction everywhere. The mass relays are all damaged or destroyed.

But the Reapers are really gone. For good.

She did it. He always knew she would.

It's in the way he has hope. Garrus is a lot of things, a failed C-Sec detective and vigilante, and he knows now, a hero (her influence, of course). But no one has ever accused him of being an optimist.

But as he stands before the memorial wall on the Normandy, holding the plaque with her name, all he can think is, "No, she's not dead." He knows his girl, and his girl is a survivor.

They're going to make it back to Earth. They're going to be able to rebuild, repair, and flourish.

And he's going to be together with her again.

She makes it easy to hope.

It’s in the way she survives.

#mass effect #fanfic #garrus vakarian #femshep #shakarian #the way #part 3 #weep with me friends #daisy screaming into the void

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sol-consort · 3 months

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I am so very glad we have the same opinion on my sweet Adrien! You can't imagine the fucking drought I have been living in when it comes to that hot dilf. I want him tofuck me so often i develop an immunity to the allergic reactions turian fluids can cause. I want him to take me with him as a "human societal advisor" or whatever title he came up with to have an excuse to have me follow him everywhere. I want him to genuinely be enamoured with me. Ugh. I crave this man on a carnal level. -blue anon

Micro-dosing the local primarch turian dilf on human bacteria by having daily make out sessions and convicnising him it's actually for the war you see because Cerberus is on our tail and they might weaponise human bites.

That's how you got one of the most respected turian generals to sit you on his lap each day, claws holding you still by the waist as your soft lips met his hard shell like mouth.

At first, he was hesitant, continuously asking you if you're sure this was going to work. And you'd pat your eyelashes all innocently like any human does to turn the scale in their favour when convincing a turian to let them get their way, so easily they fall to the bait.

The more days went on, the more confident he grew. He even started being the one to seek you out daily on the ship and politely allude for the need to meet in your quarters to discuss the anti-Cerberus strategy. On papers it all seems official and very professional.

But creaks of the bed in the captain's loft says otherwise. Adrien wanting to up his dosage since a simple kiss or ten just can't cut it anymore you see. His body is definitely accumulated to the human mouth bacteria by now so how about he...tries tasting something closer to the source? Spread your legs, he promises to watch the talons.

Oh spirits, you know these people that try building up their pain resistance by inflicting small amounts onto themselves daily but only end up developing a masochism kink instead? Sir Victus here is slowly getting addicated to your taste, the way his whole body shivers the more of your essence he swallows down, the way you're so..fleshy in comparison to him yet somehow deadlier by nature.

He could just eat you up! How can someone like you have a stronger immune system than him? How can the fragile looking humans, even at their strongest, bring a turian to their knees by a simple kiss or exhange of saliva.

He's definitely keeping you around. Ah you see well...since his new position is important, he needs to make sure he prevents any poisoning attempts, including accidental ones from other humans.

And you're already doing a wonderful job, what a great distraction you can be at times, why not come back with him to palavan?

Be his human socialist advisor or an embassy representative or whatever fancy title you want, he never cared for politics. What he cares for is still getting his daily dose of a cute human to squeeze on his lap, of feeling your warmth engulfing his cock while his tongue is down your throat.

He's becoming more immune, he even drank a human soda the other day and didn't pass out until 10 minutes later! That is record time for any turian. So this arrangement must be kept, it's for the betterment of the turian government after all.

#☆blue anon #☆Adrien #☆Smut #☆human kink #adrien victus x reader #smut #turian x reader

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craftylittlenerd · 9 months

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Snippet Sunday

Tagged by @westernlarch for another snippet Sunday, or more like snippet Monday as I got to spend the day with the family yesterday 😁 Tagging @kalliesa @luciferbecons @partofmycharm @misseffect @serendipitys-teapot @hauntedjellyfishtraveler to participate if you are so inclined.

So I have a few projects in the works and I debated on weather I post a snippet from one of my fanfiction or from one of my original works. After some debate I figured I post a snippet from my oldest fic that I’ve been taking a break on as I’ve hit a bit of a road block with it.

Working Title: New Life “So, you’ve been staying here with the Commander?” Castis asks outright; he was never a man to beat around the bush.“ Until she wakes up, I don’t...we’re in this together... I...” Castis nods understandingly, “Towards the end of your mother's illness, I never left her side.” His voice grows soft as he remembers Laurus, how Corpalis Syndrome robbed her of being able to do the simplest of tasks. The subtle shake of her hands, the smallest stutter or slurring of words in her otherwise eloquent speech, the weakness she felt in her body. It was too late before either of them realized that these were all early symptoms and not just signs of old age. The disease took its time, taking Laurus away from him slowly over two and a half years, the preventive medication barely doing anything but prolonging the inevitable. Robbing them of their golden years together. Garrus remembered how his dad hovered over his mother every chance he got while he and Sol had to coax their dad into simple tasks like eating or sleeping. Now the tables were turned, and it was his father’s turn to do the same to his son. Castis could see the weariness on his son’s face, how his clothes fit loosely around his frame. “I cannot fault you for wanting to do the same, but I will fault you for the smell. When was the last time you showered? Garrus felt like he was thirteen all over again with that question and the look, spirits his father knew how to make him feel like a child. His father grined, knowing he’d gotten Garrus right where he wanted him. “Wash up; your sister will be a bit longer with the doctor. Then we can go grab a bite to eat.” Garrus looks around, unsure of what to do or even if he could use the shower in Shepard’s hospital room. He didn’t have a clean change of clothes either, not having returned to the Normandy in the last few days. Miranda and Dr. Chakwas were always able to shoo him away when Shepard was heading into another surgery. Even primarch Victus was able to persuade Garrus out of the Commander's hospital room while one of the other crew members visited. Usually, he returned to the Normandy to shower, if not quickly buff his plates before changing his clothes. Sometimes he was able to get some sleep; other times, Garrus had enough of an appetite to eat a small meal. When someone couldn’t visit, or no surgery was needed, Garrus stayed by Shepard’s side no matter how much the staff grumbled. He didn’t want her to wake up alone thinking she was resurrected again; it was her biggest fear. Something Shepard had confided in Garrus early on if not Cerberus, then the Alliance, or worse, some other fringe group would try it again. It made her uncomfortable in hospitals — even the med bay on her own ship made her skin crawl. Yet she pushed that down anytime any of her crew was injured, or doctors at Huerta needed supplies they wouldn’t otherwise be able to get in Reaper-controlled territory. It's why Garrus never left because he knew Shepard would never leave any of them. Even when Ashley was in the hospital and the two women were at odds, Shepard still looked out for her friend. “I can’t; there’s no one...I don’t have...” Garrus stammers as his father tossed him a small travel tote. “I made a call, was able to pull a favor and get you an overnight bag, and your pilot friend Joker said he’d be by momentarily.” One of these days, Garrus told himself he’d stop being surprised by his father. Today wasn’t one of those days, and tomorrow wasn’t looking any better. Garrus looked at the bag he had just caught mid-air like it was some puzzle to be solved. Upon opening it, he found a change of clothing, some toiletries, a sanding stone and buffing brush, and a few other needed items. “I’ll watch over her until you’re done washing up. She won’t be alone, son I promise.” Garrus nodded and went into the small bathroom with a mundane shower hoping to get enough hot water to drown the ache in his muscles. Once Castis heard the bathroom door latch, he pulled a necklace out of his pocket. The slim golden chain of turian design had a simple locket holding an image of his beloved. “Laurus, what do I do? You were always better at these things than me.” Sighing, Castis sat in the all too familiar uncomfortable hospital chair, watching over the woman who captured his son’s intrigue. Castis wasn’t ready to call it love yet. He’d only heard Garrus’s side of things. Made the connections during those long conversations when Garrus first arrived back home. He even approved of the human commander; she was more turian than the two of them combined. Castis knew the feelings were mutual, Victus had told him as much when they talked that morning. There were rumors of a taboo hand-holding incident with a high-ranking Reaper Advisor and the famous Commander on Menae. Though here she was frail and in a hospital bed — Commander Jane Shepard of the Normandy, first human Spectre, hero of the Citadel, conqueror of the Collectors, Savior of the Galaxy. Her image on the extranet and vids didn’t do Shepard justice, painting her as a larger-than-life figure for humanity to live up to. Something Castis was sure even she couldn’t live up to. Maybe it would have been better if she had died in battle — to die for the cause, be the legend she had been built up to be. An honor for any family. What more could the Alliance ask for? Yet what kind of world would she be waking up to? What impossible pedestal would she be put upon? All of that didn’t matter to Castis, what mattered was his son, as selfish as that was — but he knew Garrus. No matter where Shepard went, he knew Garrus would follow. “I’m not good at these things. Garrus's mother was the delegate and worked in the diplomatic corps back on Palaven. She turned down a council position after the kids were born, wanted to give them some form of stability. Something Citadel life doesn’t always allow. I know my work didn’t allow that even after joining C-Sec. Duty always came first. It’s the turian way, but Laurus could always find the balance.”

Castis sighed again as he looked down at the locket in his hand. “You two would have gotten along. From what I’ve been told, you're a strong, confident woman, eloquently spoken, and have a wicked sense of humor — all things my Laurus was.”A hitch in Casti's voice. “If not for you, I have a feeling I would have buried a child and my wife. It’s a debt I can never repay, yet I owe you my thanks, Commander. You brought my son back to our family. He was able to say goodbye to his mother, but if you could just do one more impossible thing and wake up.” Castis leaned over Shepard’s bed and placed the locket next to her head, pinning it to the pillow so it wouldn’t get lost.“Laurus, watch over our son’s mate. Help the commander find her way back to the world of the living. I’ll watch over our boy — make sure he keeps both feet on the ground.” Garrus had exited the bathroom, washed and dressed in the items his father had brought him. The clothing hung looser than Castis liked, his brave child wasting to nothing. Still, he didn’t blame Garrus; he knew too well what it was like to wait in this hell. How it aged your soul and left you a shell of who you once were.

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teamdilf · 3 months

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The next chapter of Long Way Home is up!

For years, he was sure he would never have a chance to speak to Garrus about everything that happened between them, and come to more than just a ceasefire in their relationship. Before Lina returns home, she encourages him to speak to Garrus. “You’ll feel better if you two talk about everything. He’s been through a lot and I’m sure things are weighing on him.”

He waits until Lora takes the girls over to Primarch Victus and Lady Victus’ house for the day. Garrus is reclined on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket, and he sits across from him, eyeing Garrus and looking for signs that something might be more wrong than usual. “Lungs are still fucked, Dad, but not fucked enough to kill me,” Garrus says, pausing midway through to cough, and he winces at the pained gasps of his son between bouts of coughing. It may not be enough to kill him yet, but it isn’t pleasant.

“I’m proud of all you’ve accomplished,” he says, staring down at his hands. “I was… troubled often during your time away, and am glad you’re home.”

“You took care of Lora and I’m grateful. I figured you’d keep in touch with her - maybe see her once or twice a year, but I didn’t think you’d make her family.”

“She was family already, on account of your relationship with her,” he points out, because even though he did not know her well at the end of the war, it was his responsibility to care for her, because he is the closest family member she has. He would not have abandoned her - especially not when she needed the care and guidance of a parent so badly.

#shakarian #garrus vakarian #garrus vakarian x shepard #castis vakarian #female shepard #femshep #j's fics #mass effect fanfiction

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iheartgarrus · 1 year

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Title: It's Getting Dark, Darling Rating: M Content: Suggestive themes; grief Pairing: Castis Vakarian/Adrien Victus Genre: Angst; hurt/comfort Word Count: 1133 Summary: With his wife gone and his children tending to their own responsibilities, Castis Vakarian has been going it alone since the end of Reaper War. Adrien Victus offers him an alternative. A treat for @diaphanouso for @spectre-requisitions-exchange 2023.

Excerpt:

Castis would have offered Adrien something stronger than water, but he wasn't making a habit of keeping alcohol around in those months following the end of the war. His exhausted, grief-stricken stupor was impairment enough, and there was too much work to be done. Plus, it wasn't as if he'd been doing a lot of entertaining. Adrien had shown up unannounced that evening at the door of Castis's temporary lodgings on the outskirts of Cipritine, and despite a lack of preparation and an even greater lack of space, asking the Primarch of Palaven to come back another time wasn't exactly an option for any good, upstanding citizen of the Hierarchy. And so, there they sat on Castis's too-small couch (the only bit of seating in the cramped living area), something like four decades after they had last exchanged anything more than a passing greeting. Still, they had barely begun with pleasantries and small talk before: “Dineen didn’t make it." The words were out before they'd even formed in Castis's mind, and he cursed himself silently. He hadn't talked about his wife's death since he had gotten word of it, yet the moment he was in the presence of someone he could remotely call a friend, he was bringing it up. There was a reason he hadn't talked about it.