#why is his name Krogan

[thefloatingstone]

Puff please tell me about Grunt I just saw a Tumblr post you reblogged that vaguely went into detail and I read a small bit of his wiki page but I want to hear it in your own words because it's like 10x more interesting with that filter. Fill my dash with grunt lore

GRUNT IS SHEPARD'S VERY LARGE SON

I don't know whether the designers originally created him with this thought in mind or not but it's really funny because by the time the DLC came out for ME2 you can see the games just fully embracing what was originally just a joke in the Mass Effect fandom.

I used to not be fully into it as a concept but as I'm busy replaying ME3 and having just played ME2 again... nah people were right. He's our son.

He was created in a lab to be an "ultimate krogan warrior" or whatever, but when Shepard cracked how out of his tube, he had did not have that "burning desire of revenge in the name of his species" the scientist who made him was obsessed by. Physically he was perfect, but psychologically, he just didn't understand why he should care about being a krogan. in ME2 when he's introduced, his story arc is helping him connect with what it means to be a krogan, and to help him find purpose as an individual. You essentially help raise this adolescent fully formed person out of apathy and teach him how to care about things, concepts and people, almost completely through actions and not so much through words.

As ME2 goes on, it becomes clear Grunt very much wants Shepard's approval about things, which is funny because at first he comes across as a cold, uncaring fully formed adult, but as you help him learn how to connect with being a member of his species, he'll sometimes want to talk to Shepard JUST to be like "Hey Shepard!! I thought about something to do with being Krogan I thought you'd approve of! listen to this!!"

In the DLC for ME2, you can read up on his internet search history as well as his online purchase history and I just.... think a lot of it explains SO MUCH about him as a character. So I'm just copy and pasting those here

SEARCH: krogan history SEARCH: great wars SEARCH: genofage / ERASED / krogan victories SEARCH: okeer/ ERASED / great generals SEARCH: toochanka/ ERASED / tuchanka SEARCH: urnot wrex SEARCH: battlemaster shepard/ MODIFIED/ commander shepard/MODIFIED/commander shepard normandy SEARCH: animal fights / MODIFIED / large predators SEARCH: tryrannsauros wrex/ ERASED / earth lizard wrex SEARCH: dinosaurs

SEARCH: battlemaster humans/ ERASED / earth humans SEARCH: human history SEARCH: earth wars // DOWNLOAD 6.1T NEWS FOOTAGE - HUMAN GENERAL HISTORICAL - CONFLICT // SEARCH: warrior humans // DOWNLOAD 2.1T DOCUMENTARY FOOTAGE - HUMAN GENERAL HISTORICAL- MAJOR MILITARY FIGURES // SEARCH: great humans/ MODIFIED / honored humans // DOWNLOAD 0.7T NEWSFOOTAGE [sic] - HUMAN ACHIEVEMENT- AWARDS // SEARCH: great storytellers human SEARCH: war stories // DOWNLOAD 0.67T LITERATURE - HUMAN WRITERS CONFLICT// SEARCH: human homer kipling hemmingway // DOWNLOAD 0.13T LITERATURE - HUMAN WRITERS – EARNEST HEMMINGWAY // // DOWNLOAD 0.06T AUDIO BOOKS // // THE SUN ALSO RISES // 14% COMPLETED // FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS // 100% COMPLETED // A FAREWELL TO ARMS // DELETED // THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA // 100% COMPLETED SEARCH: sharks

CATALOG ORDER: Ultra Black Ops Mega Catalog PURCHASE 2823- UG-652: Case Premium 54/ER Engine Oil VIDEO DOWNLOAD: The Madness of Sacrifice: The Unauthorized Biography of Warlord Okeer PURCHASE 2856- UG-122: Economy Box, Fishdog Food Factory "Tastee Bites" VIDEO DOWNLOAD: When Fauna Attacks! Volumes 1-10 PURCHASE 3254-UG-975: Batax's Hot Fish Spice VIDEO DOWNLOAD: Vaenia (this is a movie) VIDEO DOWNLOAD: Asari Confessions 26: True Blue (this is porn) PURCHASE 9683- UG-662: Fornax Special Spotlight: Krogan Edition (this is a human magazine focusing on interspecies sexual relations) PURCHASE 8856- UG-972: Captain Cosmic Action Figures: "Garr the Krogan Battlemaster" with real smash your enemies action!

By the time ME3 comes around, most of the rest of the squad is referring to Grunt in terms poking fun at the fact that Shepard is his mom. I think it's Joker who at one point comments "Our baby boy's all grown up" or something to that effect. I can't remember the exact dialogue. I think at one point Garrus also jokes about how "they grow up so fast" or something along those lines.

He also loves spicy ramen.

Grunt is a good boy.

[reallyprofoundkryptonite]

Character handwriting headcanons!

@duoatomica @ziggityzigg @amyrafiercebladeartz >:)

anyways yes hello. To further elaborate on some of these:

Viggo’s middle name is Maurice. (Idk why I’ve had it for like forever but it sounds nice)

The entirety of Krogan’s latter half of his name is entirely my headcanon lmao. If he was actually within his culture everyone in the show would be referring to him as Aéros instead of Krogan. Krogan (Krogæn’Tan) is ONLY allowed to be used by Krogan’s immediate family. (Signifigant other, parents, siblings, etc)

Dagur’s last name is Oswaldsson. I did not write that down because there was no room for his shit chicken scratch.

Ryker’s middle name is Hrøthgær.

[mushroommanchanterelle]

Part 2 of the Shakarian fic I'm playing around with

The sound of whirring gears floods the vehicle bay as the elevator makes its slow descent. The door opens to reveal Garrus Vakarian, mandibles slacked to the sides of his face. He holds a warm thermos in his hand, and staggers out of the vehicle bay. The former detective takes up his usual position beside the Mako and slumps onto the ground, taking a long sip of whatever fluid resided within the insulated walls of his metallic cup. Across the room from him, Urdnot Wrex chuckles to himself.

“You look more like shit than usual, Garrus.”

The turian groans and looks up from his drink, locking eyes with the krogan warrior.

“Not now, Wrex. I’ve got enough to think about already. I don’t need extra commentary.”

“Suit yourself. Haven’t seen you this bent out of shape since we recruited your sorry ass.”

Garrus props himself up against the Mako’s tire, sitting up straight instead of slumping over.

“Wrex, if I wanted your opinion, I would have asked. Besides, it’s not something you’d know a damn thing about anyways.”

As Wrex opens his mouth to speak, the door to the engineering bay opens. Tali’Zorah hurriedly steps out of the room, looking between the two disgruntled men.

“Are you two fighting again? Why is it that the moment I turn my back, you’re at odds? Doesn’t Shepard take you along with her enough to form… I don’t know, some sort of combat bond?”

Garrus twinges at the sound of Shepard’s name, looking back down at his thermos. Wrex, taking note, gives a hearty belly laugh.

“Ahh that’s what’s bothering you. What did Shepard do this time? You mad she took Kaiden and Tali out instead of us?”

“It’s not that it’s… It’s…”

Beneath the mask, Tali’s face lights up.

“I know that look. I’ve seen enough vids to know where this is going. You’ve got feelings about her, don’t you?”

The quarian mechanic walks over to Garrus and sits beside him, offering a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Garrus, out with it. You know you can talk to us. Or…at least me.”

Wrex crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall.

“What, don’t trust me, turian?”

Garrus sighs, lowering his mandibles. He looks down, then between Tali and Wrex.

“It’s just… I heard Shepard talking with Kaiden this morning.”

Tali gently pats his shoulder.

“I take it you didn’t like what you heard? I didn’t think Kaiden was the sort to go after a woman like Shepard…they always seemed more like siblings to me.”

“No, it’s not like that. They were talking about ME.”

Wrex stretches his neck. “So they were gossiping. Hardly enough to warrant a reaction like this.”

Tali shoots him a look that permeates through the thick shielding of her helmet, then returns her gaze to Garrus. Immediately, Wrex puts his hands up and leans back against the wall.

“What were they saying, Garrus?”

“It was a little hard to make out from the elevator, but it sounded like Kaiden was teasing Shepard. I think I heard him say that she was up late thinking about me, but she pulled rank to shut him down. I… I think Shepard might have some feelings that I’m not sure I know how to handle.”

Wrex sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know what’s so difficult about it. Just send a breeding request and be done with it.”

Tali shakes her head and retorts with fire in her voice, “Quiet Wrex. This is a delicate matter! Romance is an art form and needs to be handled with tact.” She returns to Garrus once again, having silenced their krogan counterpart. “Garrus, if you don’t want any advances, you don’t have to take them. You don’t need to entertain Shepard if you don’t feel the same way.”

“That’s the thing, Tali. I DO feel the same way. It’s…complicated. I’ve had relations before, but never a true relationship. I don’t even know how compatible turians and humans are. Tensions are still fairly high between our peoples and…”

Tali gently cups Garrus’s cheek, offering a reassuring smile just barely visible through the purple glass. “Garrus, love always finds a way. If you really feel that way, why not talk to her about it?”

Wrex lets out a disgruntled huff, looking off to the side indignantly. 

“I don’t see the fuss about it. You like her, she likes you. It sounds to me like a done deal. Quit your whining and get it over with already.”

“As much as I’d love to, I don’t even know that much about Shepard. I don’t know if we have the same interests, or hobbies… I don’t even really have any hobbies. I think this requires some careful research…”

Tali chuckles and relaxes beside him.

“If anyone can figure it out, it’s you. Don’t think too hard about it. The best way to get to know someone is to talk to them. Maybe get her a present. Every woman I know loves getting presents.”

“Alright, that sounds like a good place to start. But…what sort of gift do I even get? And where? Shepard doesn’t seem like the chocolate kind of person, and we hardly go anywhere pleasant enough to pick up something soft and cuddly.”

Wrex thinks a minute, remembering a conversation he had with their illustrious commander. At the same time, in near perfect unison, Tali joins in. 

“Shotguns,” the two say at the same time.

Wrex chuckles softly to himself.

“Shepard loves big shotguns. The bigger the better. Get her something with some kick to it.”

“Shotguns? Really? You’d think something like that would topple her over. She’s barely above five foot! Well…if you say so. I’ll keep my eyes open. Thanks, the both of you.”

Tali looks over to the elevator and nods her head.

“We’re your friends, Garrus. Of course we’ll help you through things.”

“Yeah yeah whatever,” Wrex shoots back, “whatever quiets your bellyaching.”

The elevator ascends, a clear indicator that someone was planning on coming down to the cargo bay. Garrus stands up again, patting himself off, then turns to the Mako to begin maintenance. He had a lot to think about.

[albinoshepard]

N7 Month Challenge 2023

Day #06: Meal

Prompt List - @n7month

🎮 Mᴀss Eғғᴇᴄᴛ Aɴᴅʀᴏᴍᴇᴅᴀ ℹ️ PʟᴀʏSᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 4 | Lɪɢʜᴛʀᴏᴏᴍ

.

Liam: "Did we really let a Krogan take up residence in our kitchen?”

Vetra: "You say that because you haven't tasted his specialties yet! Do you know what else a Krogan with 1000 years of experience can do? To cook!"

PeeBee: "If he promises not to make me wash the dishes, I'm more than okay with it!"

Drack: "Now shut up you three, and let me prepare the meal! Don't you have anything else to do? Shoo! Get out of my kitchen!"

Jaal: "I'm really curious to try this _pijak_ stew, is that why you keep that animal on the Tempest, Ryder?”

Ryder: "Haha, no. It's not real pijak in the stew, it's just a name. Right Drack? RIGHT?"

Cora: "To be safe, I prefer to continue eating military pre-cooked meals, no offense Drack."

Drack: "I'll be more offended if you don't get out. GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN! OUT!! NOW!!!"

[duoatomica]

Tw: harsh words, mentions of Nsfw

This is my first "fic" so ignore if It's poorly written ><

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Johann walked down the dark halls of the cavern the hunters have established themselves after failing to dominate the dragon's edge, arms behind his back, thinking of the next steps to find the king of dragons.

Upon walking past a closed wooden door, something perked up his ears and made him instantly turns his head towards the door.

The sound of Krogan's voice, yelling something.

In the beggining, Johann simply scoffed and walked away, as he didn't want to lose focus of his plans to Krogan's stupid problems,

yet, with the continuous screams and yells, curiosity took over and made him slowly approach, putting his ear on the door.

From inside, he heard wood creaking, which could've been strange enough, until he recognized another voice, making his eyes wide slightly,

Viggo's.

"Krogan, stop moving so much!!" Viggo shouted and groaned as Krogan then responded,

"I'm almost there, just a little bit more!" Also grrunting rapidly, the man answered with a breathy voice.

At that point, Johann was paralyzed with widen eyes. Well, he never expected them two to be probably doing such things together, as he saw them as somewhat rivals, Krogan had attempted to terminate Viggo a lot of times before, and Viggo has always contradicted Krogan's ideas and points of view.

Well,

Viggo never seemed to have that much hatred for Krogan, probably contempt, yet Krogan wanted that two faced- literally -man dead.

But as if theses lines weren't strange enough, Johann's jaw just dropped at what they said next.

"I can't- You're too big! We'll have to switch!" Viggo whinned from inside, grunting louder than before.

"Hold on... Hold on! Oh f*ckin' Thor- AAH!!" Krogan yelled at the top of his lungs and just after Viggo joined him in the screaming.

The shouts were followed by loud sounds of something heavy falling on the ground and wood breaking, then moans of pain from the ones inside.

Johann was... In disbelief. Not only they were having, well, relations, but they also broke something. Good, more trouble, is there ever enough tho? No, there's always space for more problems.

Upon this torture to his eardrums, Johann decides it was now his turn to continue the noise.

"WHAT ARE YOU TWO IDIOTS DOING IN THERE??!" Johann called out from outside, and not too long after, the door opened.

Viggo was absolutely destroyed, hair ruffled, with wooden splinters embedded in his skin and bruises and scratches, specially on his back,

Krogan was also all covered in bruises and splinters, holding broken ladder under his left arm and a big bone on his right hand.

Johann looked confused, but still tried to give them a little scolding.

"Now, what in Odin's name were you two doing?!" Johann asked with a harsh tone and an annoyed expression, with his arms crossed.

Krogan sighed with irritation. "I was trying to reach for one of Basil's toys on the top of a shelf and asked Viggo for help with the stairs... I lost my balance and fell, but pulled the shelf with me and it fell on us."

Viggo replied, his voice laced with pain. "He fell on me and the stairs broke on my back."

Oh. Now it quite made sense.

Johann lifted an eyebrow, but only narrowed his eyes and walked away.

As Johann left, Viggo looked at Krogan. "You owe me a new tunic."

Krogan scoffed. "Alright... So, now that we finally have Basil's toy, and that old ass is not here anymore, you on for a little ‘‘healing session’’ in my room?" Krogan said with a little smirk on his face.

Viggo chuckled, understanding the double meaning in Krogan's sentence. "Why not?" He replied as Krogan dropped the broken ladder and they both walked to Krogan's room.

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This is so dumb why did I write this😭

Also @reallyprofoundkryptonite and @ziggityzigg tag cuz I forgot

[swaps55]

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

A while back I got this thing in my head that needed to exist, so I wrote it, even though the timeline is wrong and this scene kind of...can't exist. But I wanted it, so I wrote it, and since there is nothing to do with it but let it languish in my files, I'm gonna put it here.

We'll call it Jeremy Bearimy, because that's the only explanation I have for how this could work.

~

Ashley’s eyes snap open, heart beating in her throat, though she can’t remember why.

It’s warm, humid, salt hanging in the air. Shallow waves lap at her boots. Out on the horizon, the storm that’s been threatening ever since the Normandy landed on Virmire is finally clearing, and the Hoc star cuts one hell of a silhouette as it sinks behind the breaking clouds.

(things fall apart. the centre cannot hold.)

She wipes the corner of her mouth, expecting blood to be there, but her hand comes away clean.

Wait a damn minute. Where the fuck is her helmet?  

She’s supposed to be in combat armor. Alenko checked every piece of plating on her Colossus suit himself before she climbed in the Mako; she remembers, because he gave her shit over her neon green boots again, joking that she should just toss them out the airlock and wear the Colossus boots with her uniform instead.

She’s back in the damn green boots. And her BDUs. 

A lance of pain cuts through her side, and she hisses through her teeth. But there’s nothing there. No breach in the hardsuit she isn’t wearing, no tear in her uniform. No slab of medigel stuck to her skin.

“You look lost,” a voice says.

Ashley turns with a start, reaching for a gun that isn’t there – where the fuck is her rifle – to find an unfamiliar marine with a southern drawl wearing Alliance fatigues and a thick mop of dark hair sitting at a table, sipping a cocktail with a paper umbrella stuck in it.

“What the fuck is happening right now?” she demands, crossing her arms defiantly across her chest. If she can’t shoot him, she might as well look like she can.

He pushes a second chair out with a foot, a grin on his face that could charm a krogan. “Have a seat. Got a full bar. Figured you’d need a drink.”

“Who the hell are you? Where’s Shepard? Where’s Alenko?” She tightens her arms around herself, unease knotting deep in her gut. “We were…” She shakes her head, trying to remember. “It was important. Alenko was in trouble.”

The grin softens into a wistful smile. “Yeah. I know. But he’s all right. Or will be, I think. Sit down. You’ve earned it. I’d really like the company, to be honest. My name’s Clay Beaudoin, and I think we have a lot to talk about.”   

[nellasbookplanet]

I know I'm about a decade late but I've been replaying the Mass Effect trilogy for the first time since I was a teenager and I'm going absolutely bonkers trying to figure out if the endings are actively and stupidly working against the core themes of all three games, or if they actually thematically work but in the bleakest way imaginable.

All three endings are the embodiment of what we've been fighting literally from the start. In ME1 Saren thinks the Reapers cannot be defeated and so strives for Synthesis, thinking it will save us but not realizing he's already been indoctrinated and has basically willingly turned himself into a husk by the end. In ME2 & 3 the Illusive Man thinks destroying the Reapers would be a waste and that we should instead control both their technology and them as a species, ignoring that this is not only a heinous thing to do but also incredibly arrogant, seeing as anyone poking at Reaper technology gets indoctrinated. Both Synthesis and Control are actively argued against by the very narrative. That in combination with Destroy being the only ending in which Shepard survives, it’s no wonder many fans seem to consider it the only "true" ending (and it’s also not very surprising the indoctrination theory got so popular).

But Destroy comes with its own issues. Aside from the ethical implications of only being able to win by committing genocide against your own allies (synthetics in general, geth and EDI in particular), like with the other two it seems to be actively argued against throughout the narrative.

You are the strongest at the end by striving for cooperation throughout the games, showing time and again that destruction isn't necessary. You save the krogan from extinction, stop the geth and the quarians from wiping each other out. From Javik we find out that the strength of this cycle compared to his is the diversity and cooperation between alien species; from the Leviathan DLC as well as the history of the geth and of EDI we find that synthetics are only violent by mirroring their creators, and can be peaceful just as much as organics. And yet here is an ending arguing for completely wiping out all synthetics.

Assuming the writers were not actually trying to work against their own themes, this makes all three endings incredibly bleak. With the constant emphasis on making hard choices throughout the trilogy, is the point that there is no way to achieve a truly "good" ending? That you'll have to compromize your morals or your allies or both to stop extinction? That Saren or the Illusive Man's solutions could have worked had they not been corrupted, similarly to how synthetic implants (a step toward synthesis) did not automatically corrupt Shepard (with Kai Leng as a foil of cybernetic implants instead leading to indoctrination), or reaper code upgrades didn’t automatically corrupt EDI or the geth?

But if so, why are all endings presented as... happy? Why is Synthesis lifted as the epitome of evolution and peace while never touching the sacrifice of agency in the name of survival? Why does Control lift the "power in control" and "wisdom of harnessing the strength of your enemy" while ignoring the ethical implications of basically indoctrinating and enslaving the reapers in turn? Why does neither of these endings lift the risk of them turning sour the way they did for Saren and the Illusive Man? Why does Destory lift victory and rebuilding while ignoring the literal genocide that took place to allow for it? None of these are presented as bittersweet endings in which morals had to be sacrificed in the name of survival and a better future, but they also work against the themes in such an obvious way that I refuse to believe the writers didn’t notice. There must be more to it.

[dragonflight203]

Mass Effect 3, visiting Kaidan and Priority: Sur’kesh part 1:

Kaidan

-Why does the Council appoint the Virmire Survivor a spectre?

I suspect it’s primarily political. Udina probably traded some favors to the other Councilors to get it, although with Earth burning I’m curious what those favors may have been.

To humanity, a second spectre is a sign of hope. Even with their homeworld lost it shows faith and goodwill from the Council.

To Udina, it’s a spectre that owes him a favor. Hopefully this one is more grateful and malleable. It’s possible he’s already in the planning stages of the Cerberus coup at this point.

-This is not to knock the Virmire Survivor’s qualifications.

Kaidan’s already a decorated soldier by ME1, level-headed, and a powerful human biotic.

Ashley’s merits are less obvious, partially because her family name held her back. However, she has the grit to join and stay in an organization that’s blacklisted her family and may have performed some acts between ME1 and ME2 that would have proved herself.

And of course, both served alongside Shepard in ME1. That alone would merit recognition.

-Shepard asks if Kaidan had considered joining the Normandy. Do they always ask this or only if there’s an active romance?

Kaidan declines; he’s looking for his students that have presumably gone underground.

Sur’Kesh

-What is the Dalatrass’ position among the salarians? Is she their leader, their representative, the leader of a faction?

These details are important, Bioware!

-The conversation with the Victus, and Wrex has parallels to the conversation with Sparatus and Shepard at the start of the game.

Sparatus to Shepard: I can’t give you what you need, but I can tell you how to get it.

Victus to Wrex: Just tell us what you want.

Wrex: I’ll tell you what I need.

It hammers home how the goal of the Reaper war is just to survive. Survival is victory.

-The Dalatrass says that the krogans only know war because that’s all the salarians wanted them to know.

This feels an exaggeration. The krogans were well skilled in war before the salarians showed up. The salarians just encouraged their natural interests.

Did they prevent the krogans from learning anything else?

I suppose they may have declined to provide them education on science, philosophy, etc. but there’s no evidence of that. The krogans have also had ample opportunity to learn those on their own. If they have not, that was their choice.

-Wrex’s anger throughout this is understandable. Cure for the genophage aside, the salarians kidnapped krogans from Tuchanka. That alone would piss off any leader.

-Victus and the Dalatrass are both terrible diplomats.

Victus has the excuse of being a career military man. What’s the Dalatrass’? Her job is to be a politician!

-Neither Shepard nor the Dalatrass are wrong here, per se.

The Dalatrass is thinking of the long term. The krogans are a very real potential threat if the genophage is cured. Under Wrex there may be peace; I’m far more skeptical of what will happen if Wrex is lost.

Shepard is thinking of the short term. If the Reapers kill everyone, there will be no long term. If the krogans are a problem later, fantastic – that means there is a later.

I’m on Shepard’s side, but I do want to point out that the Dalatrass is not incorrect. It’s her priorities that need to be reordered.

-Shepard’s only a spectre in ME3 when it’s convenient. The rest of the time they’re an Alliance soldier.

Shepard can oversee the transfer of the female krogans because they’re a spectre.

But once on Sur’Kesh, if you go renegade you say the attack on Wrex is an insult to the Alliance. You never, for example, tell the STG to stand down because you’re a spectre and you can do what you want.

Given the emphasis ME1 placed on spectres, this is disappointing. Shepard being a spectre should make them a natural candidate to act as a neutral party and unify everyone against the real threat, i.e. the Reapers.

Instead the game makes Shepard an exceptional Alliance soldier acting on behalf of humanity’s interests.

That’s not inherently a bad story, but that’s not what I signed up for in ME1 and it’s not the story I wanted in ME3.

-Wrex’s reaction to Javik is amusing. He’s not even surprised Shepard found a Prothean.

-All the salarians call Wrex “the krogan”.

No wonder krogans are often moments away from violence with salarians.

-Ah, salarians, never change.

Since the krogans are too dangerous, they’re considering uplifting the Yahg instead. Because there’s no way that could go wrong.

-Of course the broadcasts on Sur’Kesh aren’t subtitled.

Do you have hearing problems? Bioware wants you to know Fuck You, personally.

-Kirrahe assumes Javik is lying about being a Prothean and he’s actually genetic modified.

More believable than being in stasis for 50,000 years.

-The policy of the STG is to create trouble for someone else if there currently isn’t any.

And the Dalatrass accused Shepard of being a bully...

[striderincosmos]

WIP Whenever

As tagged by @swaps55, and inviting any who wish to participate! (I'm not exactly linked to many writers on here just yet)

Here's a sneak peak (a nice, long one) between Nathaniel 'Nate' Shepard and Garrus on their way to Feros in Spectre Echoes: Memories and Portents!

- - -

The crew area was a rather bustling place at the moment, what with the new additions to the crew. It made Garrus stand out even more at the table, dressed in a shirt and pants that accommodated the slight crest of his upper back.

Nate took a seat next to him, a human beer in one hand and a turian brew from a case he’d had assigned to the Normandy’s cold storage in the other. “Evening, Garrus,” he said casually, offering the brew. “How are you holding up?”

“Rather well, honestly,” Garrus said as he took his drink, opening it and taking a sip. “This sort of environment is easy for me, no matter the species. I might have decided to go to C-Sec over joining the reserves in a decade or so, but you can’t beat out nearly a decade of military training.”

“What made you go into C-Sec in the first place?” Nate asked.

“It was the family business,” Garrus shrugged. “My father had been C-Sec before getting pulled out from the Reserves for Relay-314, and his father before him had done the same thing. Still don’t know why the old man went into politics, though. Even C-Sec is simpler than that.”

Nate shrugged. “I try to avoid politics. When you have a camera pointed at you more often than not…”

“I can see how that’d be the case,” Garrus said, pausing for long moments. “So, I’ve got a question for you about Saren.”

“Funny enough, I’ve actually got one for you, too,” Nate said. “You first.”

“Are you really planning on trying to arrest Saren and drag him in front of the Council after what he’s done?”

Nate ruminated on the query with a pull of beer. “It’d be what the Council wants done, most likely. Saren’s dangerous, but if we can subdue him, he needs to face due process.”

Garrus’s mandibles drooped slightly, the action looking almost like a grimace. Or a sneer. “There’s a lot of risk to that too, though. He isn’t the best Spectre the Council has for nothing. He could probably find half a dozen different ways to escape during transit to the Citadel, let alone what he could do if he was on it.”

“We know he’s the most dangerous person in the galaxy,” Nate said assuringly. “If there’s anyone who can guard him, it’s going to be all of us and the krogan along for the ride.”

“That wouldn’t stop the Council from offering clemency, or just finding some way to sweep this under the rug,” Garrus retorted. “But taking him in is the way it’s done by the book, isn’t it? ‘Do it right, or don’t do it at all’.”

Nate frowned slightly at the rather bitter invective. “And who said that?”

“Lucrius Vakarian,” Garrus said, washing the name back down with a pull of his brew. “Among the most renowned detectives on the Citadel. Spirits know he said to me more times than I can count.”

“Not a regulations guy, then?” 

Garrus sighed quietly. “I get why they’re there. I get that they’re useful. My father and C-Sec drilled that into me well enough. But sometimes, in order to resolve a situation permanently, completely, the regs, and the people who enforce them, can make it so that a solution becomes a stopgap. People get away. Innocents get taken advantage of or hurt when they don’t need to.”

Garrus was silent for a moment. “Take Doctor Saleon.”

“Who’s that?”

“He was — probably is still — one of the leading figures of the Citadel’s black markets. Specifically in grown organs. Real mean bastard. In a place where a krogan who’s well-connected enough could drop 40,000 credits for a full quad transplant to try and counteract the genophage, Saleon was a unique brand of fucked up.” 

“See, there was an increase in organ trade, well beyond what we expected. We managed to confiscate some, and do some genetic tests. It was a bit of a mess, but it led us to a very lively turian who was very insistent that he was not, in fact, missing his liver. We ran a background check, and saw he worked for the aforementioned doctor.”

“What did you do next?” Nate asked.

“We brought him and some of Saleon’s other former employees in for questioning. While I was interviewing one of them, I noticed something suspicious. One of the detainees, a human, started bleeding from his abdomen during questioning. Pretty badly, too. We offered to patch him up, and he got panicky.”

Garrus paused, was silent for long moments. “We found dozens of incision scars on him. Some of them fresh, like the one that gave him away. Others much older. That’s when we realized this sick bastard Saleon wasn’t just employing people. He was testing on them. Growing the organs right inside of them, then cutting them open, harvesting them, and selling them off. Most of the test subjects were poor, desperate. They only got a small cut of the profits from any sale, and only if the organs were viable. If they weren’t, he just… left them inside them.”

The beer wasn’t very appealing to Nate anymore, and he set it on the table at arm’s length. “What happened then?” he ventured. 

“We went out to go and put the cuffs on this guy. But he rigged his lab to blow, ran as soon as his mules started getting pulled in by C-Sec. Took some of his ‘employees’ with him to the nearest spacedock. By the time we found where he was, the ship he stole was already leaving. He threatened to kill who were now his hostages if anyone tried to stop him.”

“And he got away?” Nate said incredulously.

Garrus nodded. “I ordered Citadel defenses to intercept and fire on him, but C-Sec HQ countermanded my order. They were worried about the hostages. Worried about civilian casualties for how close he still was to the city arms. I told them the hostages were already the next best thing to dead, that this was just the cold, hard calculus of stopping a criminal like this now and for good. But they wouldn’t listen.”

Nate sighed. “Sounds like a recipe for hating where you work.”

“To put it mildly.” Garrus chuckled darkly. “I went to Executor Pallin, the man in charge of C-Sec, and told him what I thought about the situation and the policies that made it happen. He told me if I didn’t like it, then I could quit. To be honest, I almost did, just to spite them.”

“As tough a choice as it is, the lives of the hostages were as important as catching Doctor Saleon,” Nate said pointedly. “If we didn’t care about the lives of those threatened by the people we want to bring to justice, how different are we from them?”

It was silent between them for a moment before Garrus sighed quietly. “You know, I can see where you’re coming from. I just wish we could have stopped Saleon as well.”

Again it was silent. “So,” Garrus said after a moment, “what was your question?”

“You’ve got a personal stake in this,” Nate began. “I won’t begrudge that, and I won’t discount that we might need to kill Saren to stop him. But if we do manage to capture him… can I count on you to let justice play out?”

Garrus was silent for long, contemplative moments. “As much as it might grate at me…” he finally said. “I’ll trust your judgment. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Shepard. However the stellar wind blows, I’ll follow your lead.”

Nate nodded. “I’m glad you have my back, Garrus.”

“I mean hey,” Garrus said, his mandibles implying a slight grin, “I get to learn what a Spectre looks like from you. Thus far, I’d say I’ve got a pretty good mentor.”

[cloudedhues]

22 had shakarian all over it ❤️

22. two miserable people meeting at a wedding au (prompt me here!)

word count: 5802

+

Shepard wasn’t the type to exaggerate but would it be such a stretch for her to say that she would rather be facing another thresher maw again than endure this reception?

It wasn’t even the reception itself or the concept of socializing. But she had been running on fumes, having traveled from Alliance Headquarters via a scrambled last minute hitchhike on an industry ship to even arrive on the Citadel on time. And the ceremony, while meaningful, and its celebrants, while beloved, weren’t enough to sustain what Anderson called her “military poster face”. She could face a horde of enemies with no sleep but maintaining her public-facing charisma required a different strength. Not like she had any excuse. It wasn’t as if she was on active duty or had anything to justify why she missed her initial shuttle and had to wait at the intermediary depot for the next one.

Somehow, getting waylaid by batarians seeking to swindle her out of her credits in a round of poker, engaging in a friendly shootout when she out-hustled them despite their tricks, and buying out a bar in celebration afterward didn’t seem like a good enough excuse.

Hence, the hangover. Hence, the missed flight. Hence, the lack of sleep.

And hence, why she was tucked at the corner where the bar was situated with only a silently brooding turian guest with blue face markings at the other end and Vilk, an even quieter elcor bartender, behind the bartop for company. She had broken her self-imposed no-drinking rule and opted to nurse a healthy glass of red as she kept her distance and tried not to look too much like she spent the previous cycle shit-faced.

But perhaps she had not fully succeeded.

Several guests had lingered nearby to catch a glimpse of the infamous Shepard, whose face and exploits had been plastered on screens and datapads for the past month. They all looked curious, but none seemed inclined to approach. Maybe the huge, still-healing scar on her face was a deterrent. Which didn’t quite make sense considering that half of the guests were turians.

So she people-watched, distantly amused that the bride’s mainly turian entourage was forced to intermingle with the eclectic mix of species on the groom’s side. Like with so many of her contacts, she had met and befriended Atvius amid battle, the latter unwittingly captured during a literal milk run. His two-man ship containing food stocks from Thessia had been commandeered by a ragtag group of scavengers and Anderson had sent Shepard and a small retinue to answer the distress call. Atvius who had the mandatory training of turians his age almost held his own but had been quickly overtaken when he was caught by a particularly grabby krogan. Shepard had arrived just in time with her Claymore and as such, earned an odd friendship and a lifetime’s worth of free levo meals at his bistro in exchange.

Atvius was what his fellows and foes called an aberrant. And that was the friendliest translated term for it. He was disowned by family in all but name, an easy-going bastard who detested fighting. Barefaced in spirit, they called him, he had found his discipline instead in cooking and had chosen to dedicate his life to serving food for all species. Shepard liked him immensely.

It was a real surprise when she had been sent a wedding invitation informing her that he would be marrying another turian. The surprise specifically not that he would be marrying within his species but that another turian would be so accepting. And from what she had gathered about the bride, Livia seemed to have a heritage and reputation of respectability that the groom lacked. What compelled her family to tolerate the union, Shepard couldn’t guess. But she was unsure whether the initial strain of the reception was a genuine product of this sentiment from the bride’s side or just a “turians having a stick up their ass” thing. The fact that Atvius didn’t seem inclined to stick to formalities perhaps didn’t help in any case.

Shepard did not know how turian weddings worked but she was almost certain that the vows and a Top 40 rendition he had whipped out in the middle were certainly not part of the tradition but a product apparently improvised from his absorption of human TV pop culture. Livia seemed charmed though. Atvius was subversive but he was one she seemed deep in love with. Perhaps, that was the trick of it—why none had been able to disrupt such an oddball match.

The answer as simple as that.

Shepard downed her drink. She would have marveled at the romance of it had her head not been throbbing and her throat cottoned with a heaviness that had not just been born from last night.

“You’re Commander Shepard, right?”

Seemed she spoke too soon and someone had gathered enough nerve. She even pulled a not-pissed-off expression when she turned and faced the inebriated man who had swaggered to the bar seat next to hers with a cocky grin.

“That’s right. And you are?”

“People have been staring at you since you arrived,” he said, not answering her question.

Shepard raised an unamused eyebrow. The guy’s tone implied that he seemed more excited that people were watching him talk to Shepard than being interested in actually talking to her.

“Have they now.”

“Well, can’t blame them, right? You and Akuze have been top news for a while now.”

“Hm.”

“So… is it all true then?”

“What?”

“What people have been saying.”

“Oh? What have they been saying?” Shepard leaned closer and something to the effect of having her scar up close seemed to make the man falter for a moment.

“Uh, all sorts of things. Like that you’ve been discharged because you pushed the other soldiers in the way of the attack so you wouldn’t get targeted,” he trailed off, sounding less sure.

Shepard weighed her potential responses carefully. Nearly all of them didn’t seem conducive to maintaining the down-low presence she had wanted for the couple’s sake. She didn’t think that either of them would appreciate her inciting a brawl on their special day.

“You really want to know the truth?”

Some spark ignited behind the fogginess of alcohol, and he nodded without trying to look too eager.

“It’s true, you know. Everything that people have been saying,” she continued, dropping her voice for effect. “But that wasn’t the worst of it. We fought for days but it only took me an hour to realize that I wouldn’t be getting out of it if I played fair.”

“Fair?”

“I used them as bait. My lieutenant was the first to be grievously injured. I mean, they were going to die anyway, right? The ones that were eviscerated to pieces were the most useful because I could throw their extremities in multiple directions as a distraction and attack the sons of bitches from the other side. Of course, the maws quickly caught on to my grift. I was already running out of corpses to use, and it’s a real pain sawing for more limbs. I know the others all like to call us humans soft flesh bags, but meat and bone are a real mess to detach even with a good omni-blade. I could only hide under the remaining bodies and bide my time until they retreated for the night. At that point, it was just a waiting game. Rinse and repeat for several days afterward. My only real regret was that I didn’t get to burn down that entire nest. What I would give to go back and make sure they felt a sliver of the torture we all went through. I’d tear them to pieces the same way with my bare hands and teeth if I could.”

She punctuated this with a matter-of-fact finish of her drink before turning back to the now silent man with a smile that was all teeth and politeness.

“Anything else you want to know?”

“N-No. Uh, that was very…informative.”

“I’d be happy to provide more details.”

“No, that’s all right.” He quickly stood, seemingly soberer now. “I actually have to meet up with some people…over there. But, um, it was very nice talking to you.”

Shepard watched the quickly departing figure with a smothered laugh and flagged down Vilk for another glass as a little reward. She knew that it wasn’t wise to exacerbate the rumors that had been spreading since the Alliance had kept tight-lipped over the details in their public copy. But if anyone was going to exploit her ordeals, it might as well be her.

“Nicely played.”

She turned to her left and found the quiet turian had broken from his stupor and was now tipping his glass to her in a toast.

“Who says it was a play?”

“Just a guess. But I’ve learned that Atvius only makes friends with shit stirrers.”

“I could have been invited by the bride.”

“Nah. I know Liv and everyone she invited. Anyone with your name would have stood out in the guest list.”

“Oh, a close friend of hers then?”

“A friend of both.” He leaned forward to stretch out a hand and Shepard was so surprised he was making such a human gesture that she didn’t immediately take it. “Garrus Vakarian.”

His hand was uncovered due to his formal clothing, and it felt just as warm and leathery as she would have imagined. She’d never touched another turian’s skin before in a non-combat setting.

“Shepard.”

“That was the right procedure, yeah?” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve seen enough humans do it in my line of work but I never actually got the chance to do it myself until now.”

“Hmm…I’ll give you a 7 out of 10.”

“Damn. Tough crowd. Was it my form? It was my form, wasn’t it?”

Shepard bit back a smile. “You gripped hard enough to bruise my hand. Which isn’t a bad show of intimidation but not appropriate for a casual, friendly greeting.”

“I’ll take note.” He made a show of typing on his omni-tool. “Don’t…break…human’s…hand.”

She did laugh this time. His lighthearted demeanor seemed so in contrast to his previous brooding mood when she had first taken her spot two seats away from him. It was curious.

“Unless you’d been planning to intimidate me all along, it’s a good tip to keep handy,” she drawled.

“Ha. Don’t know how much intimidation I could do after hearing that story you gave out.”

“I stretched the truth a little,” she offered lightly. Because the truth was, in actuality, much, much worse. But no one else needed to know that but her.

Shepard had never made a point to study turians’ eyes before but even two seats away, his stood out in the low lights with a brilliant shade of blue that seemed to sidestep her lies. Like he knew exactly what she was not saying and he seemed to have enough daring to face the truth of it.

If she was anyone else but herself, she would have fidgeted under such casual and piercing scrutiny. Instead, she kept her stare direct and waited.

But instead of averting his gaze or prodding her for more intrigue, he exchanged his seat for the one directly next to hers and said out of nowhere, “Much as I respect the guy’s skills, Atvius still doesn’t know how to source his alcohol correctly. His horosk is diluted as all hell. No offense, Vilk.”

“Good-natured teasing. No offense taken, Officer Vakarian. I just pour what I’m given,” the bartender uttered.

Shepard stopped drinking. “Officer? Good thing I didn’t start that brawl then.”

“I probably would have joined you if I’m being honest,” he said and his tone seemed to regress to the lower mood he was engaged in before.

“This scene not your thing?”

A loud whoop resounded from the dance floor. They both looked at the party, now considerably livelier and less awkward than it had been from the start. For all the impure alcohol Atvius had foisted upon the festivities, it worked well enough to smooth out the tensions into an actual air of celebration. The groom and the bride were in the middle of the crowd, wildly flailing their limbs into something even an inept dancer like Shepard didn’t think construed as proper dancing, while guests of all species cheered them on. It was enough to make her smile, and she wondered why Garrus remained stiff-shouldered at such a cheery sight.

“So you said you were friends with both of them?” she ventured when he didn’t answer her previous question.

“Yeah. I met Atvius after my coworker forced me to go with him to the bistro after a shift. He’d just opened and word-of-mouth was already spreading about how good he was. But I wasn’t buying the hype. He showed me in the end though. That grunnien kebab of his is a killer. I became a regular quickly enough.”

“Scary how his meat can pull you in so quickly, huh?” Shepard couldn’t help but joke and she was rewarded with Garrus’s hoarse bark of a laugh.

“You said it. And what about you? How’d you meet the two lovebirds?”

“Atvius I saved from a group of pirates who thought he was shipping some lucrative mining resources rather than a bunch of asari spices. And Livia, I only met briefly through Atvius. They’d only been dating for a short time and I was away from the Citadel so often I didn’t have more chances to get to know her. The next thing I know, I’m getting an e-vite to their wedding. Which was a surprise, considering.”

She trailed off but Garrus was quick on the uptake.

“Liv’s already stubborn but she can become even more hard-headed with the things she wants. And she’s already established enough of a name for herself in her career not to take any repercussions from her family seriously.”

“Hm. My type of woman then.”

“That’s Liv for you.” Something about the flick of his mandibles told her that he was smiling.

“Seems like you know her best,” Shepard ventured again; she didn’t miss that he omitted her the first time. “How’d you two meet?”

“Liv… Well, Liv, I’ve known since we were kids but we didn’t get close until military school. She was my sister, Solana’s friend first and Sol always complains about how quickly I replaced her spot,” he said warmly.

Something in the softness of his voice made Shepard pause. She didn’t think she was well-versed with turian body language and tonal inflection to be certain of what that was about, but she could guess enough.

“Pity for your sister. It’s hard being replaced,” she said lightly.

Garrus was quiet for a moment before saying, “Yeah. Pity for her.”

He took another swig of his drink and Shepard felt bad at what she’d uncovered. She quickly changed the subject. “So… wait, wouldn’t that make you a shit stirrer yourself?”

“What?”

“You said Atvius only befriends shit stirrers. Which would naturally mean that you are one yourself.”

His mood seemed to lift at that. “You could say that. I’ve been known to be a bit of a bad boy to some.”

Shepard nearly sputtered out her drink as she cackled.

“What?” Garrus sounded slightly offended.

“I don’t know. Just your phrasing. You seemed so earnest when you said it. Bad boy. Like a proverbial Boy Scout puffing out his chest.”

“What’s a Boy Scout?”

“Someone who’s definitely not a bad boy,” she teased before descending into cackles again. God, she needed sleep.

Her humor seemed contagious though because Garrus joined her even if it was at his expense. “I don’t know why you’re laughing. But if you ever meet a Pallin at C-Sec, ask him about me. He can tell you all about how much of a bad boy I am.”

“I’d rather not get crossed with your coworkers. So I’ll take your word for it.”

Their conversation became more spirited as they exchanged stories about their colleagues. They shared minimal information about each other to keep it light and smooth. But from what she had gathered, Garrus was the youngest of two children. His father had been an officer as well and Shepard deduced due to her increasing observation of his tones that he had followed out of a sense of duty rather than personal preference. He made mention of his mother but his cheer had dampened a little at the topic so Shepard quickly diverted it to a story of when she had pranked one of the recruits to use Anderson’s personal bathroom to shower in. Garrus quickly followed that up with a tale of accidentally letting a detainee’s hamster loose in the office, much to Pallin’s chagrin.

He didn’t ask anything about her background, for which Shepard was grateful. After Akuze, her name and what minimal information there was to glean from her origins and her military career were broadcasted on news sites and programs. What’s more, he didn’t ask why she was staying in the Citadel long-term when she’d mentioned that she was planning on leasing an apartment in the area.

But she was grateful for once to engage in conversation that held no weight, that had no bearing on heavy matters it seemed that suns would rise and fall for. It had been a long time since Shepard had engaged in a kind of fun that wasn’t born from a sick urge to escape her head.

They were in the middle of debating the merits of sniper rifles versus shotguns when someone cut the music and called the guests’ attention to the middle of the room. Livia stood in the middle; her new husband tucked to her side as she raised a glass.

“Everyone, I want to take this moment to thank you all for coming. I know how long many of you had to travel to get here and I couldn’t be more grateful that you’ve attended despite your busy schedules and lives. Especially knowing that some of you were definitely thinking of ditching last minute. Don’t think I don’t know you all.”

Raucous, good-natured cheers mixed with muted clapping from the more sober party-goers.

“First, I want to thank my parents for coming.” Livia nodded soberly towards the general direction of two turians before she launched into a speech about family, the future, and true love that would have made the least sentimental melt.

Just as Shepard thought she was done, Livia punctuated it with a last point.

“Before I let you all go to get even more wasted, I also want to take this time to make a toast to Garrus Vakarian,” she continued. Beside her, Garrus stiffened. “Now, where is that big lug?”

Livia’s eyes traveled around the room before landing directly on him. Her mandibles widened and then narrowed in an approximation of a smile. “Garrus! There you are! Everyone, raise a glass for our good friend here for introducing us. Without him, Atvius and I would have never met and none of you would have been taking a day off to party and share this happiness with us today. To Garrus.”

“To Garrus!” everyone crowed. Shepard took one look at his thunderstruck expression and winced in commiseration. Either Livia was more cutthroat than she thought, or she was completely oblivious to his feelings.

Atvius announced that more food was coming and once everyone’s attention had tapered off and returned to the festivities, the spirit of their earlier conversation was well and truly gone. Garrus stood without hesitation and muttered, “Going outside to get some air.”

Shepard watched him leave, pushing away how sorry she felt for him. Somehow, she thought it’d be more insulting to him if she felt a modicum of pity over his situation.

“Vilk, you know any relaxing places to go in this area that don’t involve alcohol?”

The elcor took a beat to answer. “Thoughtful consideration. I think your idea of relaxation is much more different than mine.”

“Fair enough. Let’s go with mine.”

“Genuine suggestion. The Armax Arsenal Arena offers combat simulations that soldiers such as yourself would find a good release of tension. It’s located at the end of the Strip.”

Shepard transferred him an overly generous tip. “Have a good night, Vilk.”

“Fond farewell. Go easy on Officer Vakarian, Commander Shepard.”

Shepard followed Garrus’s trail outside the doors leading to a balcony overlooking the neon lights of the commercial district. Garrus’s lone figure had his back to the door as he leaned his arms on the railing and watched the busy crowds of the Strip.

“Jeez, aren’t you freezing out here? I thought your kind hated the cold.” An icy draft blew through just in time to prove Shepard’s point, whipping her short hair into a frenzied mop on her head. She was wearing a layered, floral embroidered suit but even the blazer couldn’t fully dispel its chill.

“We do. But I’m a bit of a masochist if you already couldn’t tell.” His tone was joking but she guessed there was more truth to that statement than his humor could hide.

Shepard was never great at being a source of comfort. Her usual M.O. was to find the problem and beat it into submission. But something about his lonely silhouette amidst the festive lights compelled her to try anyway. “You know, if I was you, I would have said to hell with the wedding and gone barhopping instead.”

Ok, maybe not the best choice of words.

He turned to her and something about his expression suggested that he was a little affronted. “They’re my friends.”

“I know. I’m saying that you’re a much better person than me to be handling this the way you have.”

“A better person? Or just a better coward?” He laughed dryly.

“Maybe both. Maybe neither. Some would say it’s honorable—keeping your emotions to yourself to keep the peace.”

He was silent for a moment. “I've had the opportunity to tell her my feelings all these years. But I didn’t. When I introduced them, I knew from the first moment they talked that I’d lost that opportunity for good.”

She considered fairly. “Yeah, maybe you were a coward for that. But that was then. Do you wish you could go back and tell her now?”

He paused. “No. Knowing how everything eventually pans out, I don’t think I could take what they found with each other away from them. Even on the slight chance that she happened to return my feelings.”

“So maybe you should take some closure now for protecting what they’ve found because of your silence. That, or spiral in selfish regret.”

“Speaking from personal experience?”

“I don’t spiral.” She huffed. “I fall gracefully.”

Garrus’s laughter was a soft thing. “You know, you are definitely not what I expected.”

“What were you expecting?”

Perhaps, it was something to the atmosphere of the balcony, a contained bubble of the bare cold and the quiet surrounded by frenetic activity that made being genuine with each other so easy. Or perhaps it was just them. Already too honest and blunt for their own good, kindred spirits such as theirs understood that they could never pretend to be anyone else but themselves.

“I thought you’d be a terror. The rumors weren’t very kind to you,” Garrus admitted.

“I don’t mind. It helps my work maintaining that kind of reputation.”

“Hm. I get it. But that can’t be all of it, can it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe it’s good for Commander Shepard to be seen like that. But what about you? How do you feel about it?”

Shepard never thought a turian’s eyes could be so bright. It was a little unnerving to be seen beyond a title like he was addressing the “you” to some stranger that lived under her skin. She hadn’t been that stranger for a long time.

When did she get here? Two cycles ago, she was hounding the poor office admins in the Alliance Headquarters about reconsidering her forced health leave for the second time and now she was on the balcony of a dance hall in the Citadel, having a heart-to-heart with a lovesick turian of all people.

She scrounged for words, finding them uncharacteristically and worryingly out of reach. “It’s not my favorite thing. But I’ve handled worse.”

“I don’t doubt you.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Thanks, by the way. You didn’t have to follow me out to comfort me.”

“Who said I followed you out here for that?” she scoffed, regaining their earlier rapport. “I felt it was only polite to say my goodbyes before I left.”

“Oh. You’re leaving already?” Was it her wishful thinking or did he sound almost disappointed?

“Yeah. I figure I’d extricate myself from here for Atvius and Livia’s sakes before I’m inevitably tempted into making a bigger scene.”

She took a beat and maybe because she couldn’t stand to see him looking at her like that that she found her offer had already left her mouth before she could stop it, “Speaking of which, I was planning on stopping by the Arena to blow off some steam before I call it a night. It helps me sleep when I get some exercise beforehand. I’m open to bringing a partner if you’re interested.”

His eyes widened and her face remained casual and open as she waited for his response. “Uh. Yeah. I mean, are you sure? I don’t want to get in your way.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure. Plus, it seems more fun having someone to fight with.” He still looked uncertain so Shepard added, “That is, unless, you can’t keep up. In which case, I understand why you’d be scared to take your chances with me.”

As expected, a competitive and rebellious light brightened his expression. “I know what you’re doing.”

She grinned. “Is it working?”

“Embarrassingly so.”

“All right, then let’s say our goodbyes to the happy couple and blow this popsicle stand.”

“I don’t know what blowing a popsicle stand means but that’s the best thing I’ve heard all night.”

He followed her back inside, faithful on her heels.

*

Garrus was good.

Actually, way better than she would have expected.

Perhaps, it was her upbringing with the Reds and dealing with incompetent and corrupt officers on Earth, but despite her limited dealings with C-Sec, she didn’t naturally have a positive opinion of the expertise of any police force, to begin with.

Oh, she was eating her words now.

He was still a little rough around the edges, and brash in some of his combat choices but he had the kind of raw talent and intelligence Shepard could see being honed into a deadly and finer weapon.

But more than that, it was just plain fun.

It wasn’t until after they had finished several matches and even garnered a small audience upon displacing some mainstay scorers in the charts that Shepard realized how their opposite styles not only complemented each other but made the other better. And some quieter part of herself admitted how much she enjoyed engaging in a battle to stretch her skills, to recognize that she was good at fighting for something more than just survival.

But that was a revelation that was reserved just for her.

“We kicked some major ass in there,” she announced with satisfaction as they stepped out of the arena.

“Yeah, you’re going to have a major fanbase if you keep this up.”

“Me? What about you?”

He waved her off. “I’m just window dressing.”

“I’ve just met you, Vakarian, but I never would have pegged you to be so modest. You held your own in there and saved me from a few scrapes to boot. Take the win.”

“You make it sound like such a command.” He chuckled.

She was in such a good mood she couldn’t help but be playful. “Oh, it absolutely is. Be proud of your win or I’ll, uh…well, I can’t think of anything at the moment but whatever it is, I’ll make sure you regret it if you disobey me.”

He leaned his head towards her, taking advantage of his height as his voice lowered and cast over her with concerning and immediate effect. “That a threat?”

“More like a promise.”

“Hard not to take that seriously when you put it like that.”

“I’m a woman of my word. Among other things.” She didn’t know who this stranger was that had suddenly applied this suggestive tone into her voice but it definitely wasn’t her.

Garrus gave her one of those inscrutable but piercing looks again and absurdly, she felt her face warm this time.

“I’ll go to bed with my lights on then,” he said finally and she wondered why she was holding her breath.

As soon as the moment arrived, it disappeared and they were back to the previous mood of their banter as they walked to the transfer shuttles.

What the fuck, Shepard.

“Well, this is going my way,” Garrus announced. “Where are you staying at? I can walk you if you’re nearby.”

He had tacked on the last part like he wasn’t fully thinking about it when he said it. But once it was out there, she saw the immediate cringing regret in his expression.

“Er, I mean. Not to imply anything about your ability to keep yourself safe. Just thought I’d be…you know, chivalrous. Actually, turian propriety’s a bit different from humans but a lot of C-Sec diversity workshops I’ve attended informed me that humans can get a bit twee and overly particular about gender customs so I thought I’d put it out there. Not to say that you yourself are overly particular about that kind of thing, just that—”

“Garrus, I’d love for you to walk me. My hotel is just a little outside of the Strip.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, cool.” He looked visibly relieved and Shepard suppressed a grin. She never thought someone’s awkward rambling could be so endearing. How he slipped so easily between nervous energy and smooth delivery was frankly impressive.

They walked, exchanging easy repartee about their respective training. Once they approached Shepard’s hotel, Garrus noted, “So how long are you staying here?”

“Just for a week. I’m hoping I can find a more long-term situation before I have to extend my stay. The Alliance is more than happy to pay for my room and board here but I’d prefer to bunk at my own place somewhere quieter.”

They never did delve deeply into Shepard’s situation and she hoped that they wouldn’t end such a good night with that can of worms. Thankfully, Garrus didn’t poke, and once again, she marveled at how his bluntness operated along such quiet understanding.

Instead, he cleared his throat and offered, “You know, I’m not much of a real estate guy but I can connect you with a couple of contacts who could help you find a place quickly.”

“That’d be helpful, Garrus. Thank you. I’ll take you up on that.”

“Yeah. I mean, if you, you know, also needed some help with moving or anything, I can do that, too. Or if you needed someone to show you around. I know these sectors like the back of my arm.”

“Hand.”

“What?”

“Like the back of my hand.”

“What about your hand?”

“Garrus.”

“I’m kidding.” He shifted his heels, a tell-tale sign Shepard was quickly learning was a nervous fidget of his. “So, what do you think?”

She didn’t know why she was suddenly remembering her last video call with Anderson days after a psychological diagnostician deemed her mentally unsound and the Alliance had promptly put her on forced leave. But the memory came back to her in a flash.

“This is ridiculous. Do they really think pulling me out of duty is what’s good for my ‘mental stability’? What’re our chances of getting a second opinion on this thing?”

“Our hands are tied, Shepard. It might be a choice neither of us would have made but it’s the choice that we’ve been given.”

“Are you serious? Do you believe what they're saying about me, Captain?”

“I believe you will do what’s necessary to get back on the job. Even if that means not doing the job.”

Shepard was silent, feeling resentful and hopeless that her last ally had conceded to the higher-up’s whims. “Well, what the hell am I supposed to do here then? Frolic in the park and people watch? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

For the first time, Anderson’s formalities had fallen away as a slight smile upturned his lips. “Shepard, if you have to ask me how to have fun, I don’t think there’s any hope for you. Find some friends. Go out. Get some sleep and attend your wellness check-ups so they can finally clear you. Then, get back to me.”

She looked up at Garrus’s waiting face, realizing that she had been leaving him to stew in silence for longer than what was appropriate.

“Garrus,” she said slowly, gravely, deliberately. “Are you propositioning me?”

She wished she had her camera out to capture the pure universal expression of shock that overtook his entire body. He made a sound that was more of a squawk than anything else.

“What? No! I don’t think of you that way! No offense, but you’re not my type. Plus, you know my situation. Er, emotionally-speaking. I was just asking if you wanted to hang out as friends because we had such a good run tonight and oh—wait, you’re kidding. That’s your kidding face.”

She burst into laughter. “You are so earnest. How do you get anything done as an officer? Also what was with that chicken sound?”

“Ha, ha, laugh it up. I’m retracting my offer.” He made to walk away but she stopped him in between fits of her amusement.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry. I would love to hang out as friends. I had a lot of fun tonight, too.”

Garrus eyed her, presumably to see if she was up to any more tomfoolery before he matched her mood and took out his omni-tool interface. She didn’t think turians eye rolled but he definitely did. “Contact me at this number. We can start the search tomorrow after my shift if you’re free then.”

“Sounds good, friend.”

“Nah, you’re on probation now,” he said haughtily. “Give me a week and we’ll see about being friends.”

“All right, that’s fair. I’ll see you on our date tomorrow.”

“Shepard.”

“Kidding.”

He rolled his eyes again before he left but she could see that he was pleased.

He really did have the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

[sol-consort]

Shepard baby shower for baby ryder omg! (Honestly I fucking wish Ryder was Shepards kid. That anon who gave u that ask should've cooked for bioware....that would be awesome and add more to the "be the legend my n7 parent was" when we played as said legend! Also shepard deserves to be happy)

Miranda is that cool big income childless aunt with the best most expensive gifts (cant have kids but she really wants em. Poor miri) probably likes to check up on shepard and ryder a lot. Best aunt ever. (Miranda would be a bit awkward at first, holding a child but I think she'd warm up to it quickly. Maybe even tear up a bit if you didn't look.)

Tali is SO worried. Quarians have it bad as babies they cant leave the bubble. Gifts mutiple baby monitor too for all the vitals. Its very important in this stage to check on them! Quarians find the baby stage to be so stressful! She's ready to check baby monitors for you like a fnaf security guard. You sure you don't want her to hook you up with someone from the fleet who can install a bubble in your home?

Kaidan gifts something sweet and thoughtful. Cute n7 onesie for baby ryder, some diapers too. Diapers are expensive. Gotta make sure you have them ready, babies poop a lot. Maybe brings some of his cooking too. Probably researched too to make sure Garrus and Tali can eat some of his dishes, the sweetheart.

Ashley hauls in an entire crib by herself she and her sister used as kids, and now its passed down to you. Feel honoured, skipper. It's practically a Williams heirloom.

Wrex surprisingly has a soft gift. A cute blanket he and Eve/Bakara worked on. Or maybe all by himself. Nights in tuchanka can be tough, so he figured you would appreciate it even if your choice of planet to live on is much easier (and for weaklings, plssss move to tuchanka instead) Its useful and from the heart. He tries to hint you should name the kid Ryder Shepard Urdnot, since shepard is a honorary krogan anyways.

Liara has cute yellow flower baby pj's too with matching little socks and those little hats. She seems a bit melancholy but her smile is very geniune when she gives them.

Garrus gets one of those big baby bags. Or those baby carrier things for your back/front to carry the baby. Knowing him, probably both. Tactical and hey look, it's got pockets/belt ulities for your guns and thermal clips in case you need to shoot whilst carrying baby or the supplies, theres even room for scopes and attachments in here!... why are you raising your eyebrow like that?... did he get too carried away? (Garrus and Kaidan would be the type of dads to carry their kid anywhere in those things) with how the dlc went in quiet party version, Garrus would probably want to install a insane amount of security, making Tali's paranoid monitoring look normal in comparison. You thought Tali was paranoid? He'll show you. Both him and Shepards got a lot of enemies, and Garrus has lost a lot of good people. This baby gonna stay safe. Probably chills down after some reassuring tough. Maybe he'll tone it down a bit more... just a bit. After all, shepard keeps surviving the craziest things, so little Ryder probably will inherit that.

Grunt gets you a krogan shotgun he modified with ryders name engraved. His battlemaster's child will surely be a force to be reckoned with. Baby ryder will be a strong warrior one day, what do you mean babies cant fight right after they learn to walk? Huh!? How long will it be till he can fight ryder? Well...no matter...he got baby picture books too. Grunt himself is quite fond of reading after all. Maybe till Ryder is strong enough, they can have that in common.

Edi brings the most useful gifts she researched, it's all very sweet as she lists all her sources on child rearing and how to prepare for a child. Joker tries to pretend he didn't play a part in it, but he actually insisted on helping Edi research to get Shepard the best gifts and paid for it. Edi defiantly practiced beforehand how to properly hold a baby for days on end with a doll or a pillow.

Javik seems annoyed how lacking everyone's gifts are. In his cycle, babyshowers were much grander. More honorable, as the empire demanded it. He expected better from all the primitives, especially the asari. He muses how even with his expectations so low, this new cycle keeps dissapointing him. If he holds baby Ryder, he reconsiders finding an airlock the moment the moment the baby uses any bodily functions. So ugly. In his cycle...Well... he'd never actually held a baby before, he was a soldier. Not some caretaker or doctor. When he holds ryder he looks displeased. Its chubby and pink like a unboiled hanar, pathetic and ... yet he can't really stop looking. Ugly little primitive that keeps trying to put its sticky little fingers against his face and laughing... Well, OK... maybe it's best he does the holding, and not one of the other primitives. Not because he wants to, that's defiantly not it. Expect him to scowl harshly the moment anyone else of the crew wants a go at holding baby Ryder.

I love everything about this

Miranda constantly calls her sister to check if she's performing the cool aunt duities correctly since her sister actually had a family. Asking if giving out ten thousand credits as a baby shower gift is too little and if she needs to triple the amount.

Oh my god, Tali playing fnaf with the baby security cameras I can't. Shepard gets a call at 3am. because Tali hacked the baby monitors again to check on your child, and she saw that the blanket is almost falling off and you can't have that!! Go and gover your baby right now Shepard it is an emergency or they might get cold!

Kaidan who remembers how hard food came by in jump zero and makes sure to constantly drop by and help you with the baby food. Be it a fruit mush mix or a formula, he is ready to learn everything there is to make sure the little one is eating well. Saves you a lot of headaches too because you can drop your kid off at Kaidan and know they'll be fed and cared for.

Oh also he'll definitely use his biotics to play with the child and lift them up. He's very gentle and careful, it's endearing how much they giggle. They love the way his hair fizzles up because of his biotics, like touching the static screen of an older tv. He is the best when it comes to babysitting duty, the kid almost sees him as another parent even.

The image of Shepard going to open the door after inviting Ashley to their baby shower and Williams here comes hauling a huge ass crib with her bare hands and tells Shepard to step aside and direct here to where the baby room is.

Ashley builds the entire crib while the party is going on. Just rolling up here sleeves and telling you to send Garrus and Zaeed in here to help hold the flashlight for her while she works. Telling you all these stories about each scratch and mark on the crib and how it was used for all of her sisters. Garrus and Zaeed attempt to boobytrap the crib against intruders while she's not looking but she catches them.

Wrex talking about how Shepard should consider bringing baby Ryder for their rite ceremony on Tuchanka. How the thresher maws are waiting. Grunt volunteers so be their kresh and help baby Ryder like Shepard helped him before. Wrex bringing baby krogan Mordin with him to see Ryder and hinting at how they should be friends.

Liara is one of those people who immediately freeze when they're handed the baby to hold. Baby Ryder is giggling and running their fists over her hair and face while Liara is just staring at them, worried she might accidentally drop them and them remembering oh fuck babies response to facial features she needs to smile remember to smile.

It's the most forced nervous smile of her life. She is so out of her element. The Shadowbroker being reduced to a nervous wreck as she tries her best to act natural around Ryder and praying to the goddess inside thay they don't cry.

Then she finds out Kaidan likes to float them around with his biotics and she hands the baby back to you and goes to scold him about how it's not safe and he shouldn't risk it. How humans aren't like asari and we don't know the effects of biotics on them at this early age.

Garrus brings a toy gun that is actually a functional sniper rifle. He tries to convince you it is a good idea to have this on standby in case anyone tries to come at you while you're playing with your baby. He brings those baby books that teach you colours except it's one about sniper rifles that he handmade himself.

Lowkey suggests signing up Ryder for a turian bootcamp as early as they learn to walk. You know, just to teach them the basic self-defense techniques that any normal toddler needs, like how to check for someone's pulse point to know where to stab an air filled needle and fake a heart attack. Eventually, he gets called to build the crib with Ashley and gets busy hiding knives and emergency X Widow 6500 scopes for sniper rifles in between the wood pieces.

Just in case you misplaced your X Widow 6500 sniper rifle ultimate scope. You the one everyone has? And can't do without? Now you have a backup one! Or twelve.

Anderson being the only normal person and taking Ryrder to normal kids attraction in London. Showing them the big ben and taking them to a kid's playground as he sits with the moms and gushes about Ryder and Shepard and how proud he is of them.

One time Hackett becomes the emergency babysitter because Shepard is called in on a mission and everyone else is too far away. So he wears those baby chest straps and carries Ryder with him everywhere. The high admiral of the navy with a giggling friendly baby strapped to his chest.

Joker would be like "watch me be the kid's favourite" then completely gets ignored by baby Ryder when he comes at them all "hey little buddy"

Baby Ryder instead crawling on the ground and going to EDI. Finding the orange visor on her eyes fun to play with. EDI is definitely smug about it until Legion finally arrives and Ryder can't resist wrestling their way to freedom and crawling to Legion instead because kids love nothing more than unprotected shiny wires they could pop their head against.

Of course, Legion is very careful and never lets them, but it is amusing how hard tiny humans try to get themselves killed. Everyone quietly agrees that Ryder is definitely Shepard's kid at that moment.

Thane would run background checks on Ryder's kindergarten teachers and everyone in the area. He is able to snuff any attempt of a crazy Shepard fan to get in contact with Ryder before Shepard or alliance intel is even aware of it. He quietly guards your kid from the shadows and makes sure no harms befalls them.

During the baby shower, he can't help but get flashbacks to the birth of his Koylat. How adorable his own child was when learning to walk and grab stuff. How he missed most of those moments, how Shepard should treasure this time with Ryder.

[lilmissnatcat24]

Turn Left Ch 31- So Two Turians, A Human, A Krogan, and an Asari Walk Into Some Vents...

Shepard, Garrus & Co. investigate the mysterious vents, where they come across something that shouldn't exist. (CW: violence, gore, minor character death

Relationship: Femshep/Garrus Vakarian

Archive Warnings in author's note

Additional tags: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, slow build, alternate universe- canon divergence, detective noir, sex club, anonymous sex, canon temporary character death, murder mystery, drug use, dom garrus vakarian, whump, smut, heavy angst, alien sex, dual pov, an overly sexual elcor named candy, earthborn, ruthless, fake/pretend relationship, dead dove: do not eat, identity porn, minor character death

Detective AU mixed with identity porn mixed with so much whump my fingers are bleeding

(or, start from the beginning here)

lil text blurb:

“Quiet,” Nihlus barked, one fist held up. Garrus, with the rest of them, stopped mid step, afraid that even his breathing would be too loud. The clatter of tiny feet were making their way towards them. Garrus took the safety off his rifle. It would be tight if they had to fight. He could barely peer around Liara, let alone Nihlus. And what about Shepard and Wrex? Why were two of the three biotics at the very back of the line? He couldn’t breathe-- not because he was holding his breath, but because there was no air anywhere in these fucking vents and he was suffocating-- 

From the path in front of them, Garrus saw the spindely appendages of three Keepers scuttling across the metal vents. He never really knew what they were. Their eyes were devoid of any sentience, if he looked too long at their fingers he would get creeped out. They didn’t communicate… At least, he didn’t think they did. But they did disturb him profoundly.

“Have you ever seen them in a group like that before?” Shepard whispered. 

“We follow them,” Nihlus whispered back, lowering his fist from the air, and letting Garrus finally take a breath. It did nothing to help that clawing feeling of suffocation. “They’ll lead us to wherever Saren’s hiding something.” 

“And if they attack?” Liara asked, her voice soft and high like a little mouse. 

“With that? Their little stick fingers? We can take them,” Wrex barked back. “Now walk, or I risk getting stuck.” 

[reallyprofoundkryptonite]

Night Fury!Krogan redesign

Hi welcome to the post!! Anyways. I decided to redesign him. More of a story now too.

Hiccup only discovers Krogan after Krogan has been separated from the flock for a few monrhs, getting himself taken into the custody of dragon hunters after suspicions of Krogan’s disappearance and a subsequent appearance of a night fury that has scars that match up nearly identical ally with the man. (And the inquiry to Drago about him having a night fury branded with his mark, which was a resounding “no… why?” Essentially therefore confirming the potential status of the dragon as being Krogan. That… and the dragon replies to the name in question when one tried it out (*coughs at Viggo who’s literally the only person who can get close to the Fury without being bitten.)

During the first encounter, it is in the skies, with Viggo having taken an (entirely and completely uncertain) perch upon Krogan’s back. Turns out Krogan has just a bit of malice towards Toothless for whatever reason because it was litterally an on sight attack that Krogan yoinked toothless with. Viggo took Krogan’s place since. They’re still down a leader for the dragon flyers considering Krogan. Does not speak human no matter how hard he tries (it is amusing itself to hear him muttering what is in essentiacality gibberish as he tries to speak to Viggo… but his vocal chords REALLY are not made to speak.

He can commune with other dragons… fine enough. When Hiccup and Toothless are captured in the episode that would be triple cross, Krogan nearly rips Toothless’s wing off when capturing the other dragon. (Viggo really wishes he could understand what it is with Krogan and other Night Furies, because Toothless is TERRIFIED of Krogan’s simple presence. Though Krogan has seemed to back off with his aggression towards Toothless, Viggo is unsure of the stem of the aggression, besides the new scars, bite marks and wounds they had found Krogan with. Maybe there was a flock that took Krogan in and since he was in the lowest pecking order he was ruthlessly picked on and tormented?)

Viggo just understands that it might be a trauma response. They manage to make it through Triple Cross, Krogan earning a place among the dragon riders with Viggo at his side. Krogan is entirely uninterested in everyone and everything except for Viggo, though he starts warming up a bit to Snotlout, surprisingly enough. Viggo doesn’t understand why, but maybe it’s because Snotlout likes sharing chunks of the mangoes he occasionally buys with Krogan. (Krogan likes mangoes.)

For further reference… here is Krogan next to toothless. Toothless is just under half Krogan’s size and weight, which is why Krogan can throw him around so easily.

[omniblades-and-stars]

Under the Rays of an Autumn Sun

It pulses, bass beats thrumming so loud they become the shared heartbeat of the dancers under strobing azure lights. The lifeblood of Purgatory's night scene. Sweating bodies press and writhe together in sensual, decadent harmony. An asari undulates and her jewelry glitters like starlight with every pass of the light. There are many beautiful women here tonight, but none are the one I am looking for.

"Amonkira. Lord of Hunters. Grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift," I whisper from my seat at the bar. No one hears my prayers over the driving music that courses through our veins. "And should the worst come to pass, grant me -"

"Whiskey, straight please," she says with a voice that has the strength of a rushing river. My prayers are answered before I am finished saying them. She smells of jasmine, a fragile and small, white blossom from Earth. I look up and I am greeted by eyes that look like the desert sands glimmering under the rays of an autumn sun, and she is looking at me.

I have always had a weakness for beautiful eyes. Humans have a saying, "The eyes are the windows into the soul." It's a sentiment I wholeheartedly share. Hers are a light brown that I am unused to seeing in humans, but they are heavy. I can see the weight she carries within them, evident in the red lines lightly spidering over the white space around her iris.

Blue tinged glass presses to soft, bare lips, and she coughs as the liquid burns down her throat. A warm chuckle bubbles up after it, and she sits next to me. "I don't know if I'll ever learn," she shakes her head, chestnut waves brush against the sun-kissed and freckled skin exposed on her back. "Eden Shepard," she says and offers me her hand to shake. She is named after the holy garden of one of Earth's many creation myths. It suits her, I think, but the thought passes before I can fully understand why I feel that way.

A warm, calloused hand wraps around mine, rougher than most human women, evidence of a life spent in service to her military. I can imagine how she holds her standard issue assault rifle based on the strength of her hands alone. "Niké Taon," I lie very kindly. The fine hairs on her muscular arms rise above goosebumps in response to my voice. I'm pleased by this.

"What are you drinking, Niké? I'm already regretting my choice. I barely like Earth's whiskey." She swirls the glass around, minute amber waves rise up around the edges, threatening to spill over onto her fingers. The liquor in the glass is pungent, sharp, I would not want to drink it either.

"Serrice Ice Brandy, it is far gentler on the tongue," I say as I raise my own glass to my lips. She watches me as I drink, I can see her eyes move as she considers my actions, my words are a subtle suggestion.

The music changes, it is very different from the usual synthetically generated house music that is always playing here. The beat is slower, and the drums roll out in a cascading pattern over what I believe humans call "funk guitar" that is the accent to the music not the driving force, the movement is all in the drums. Shepard moves quickly, her hand wraps around my wrist, and I fight the instinct to break hers to free myself from her grasp. She smiles at me, she looks like the sun. One of her front teeth is chipped. "I love this song! Dance with me, Niké!" She is pulling me after her, and I oblige.

I watch Eden Shepard every time she comes to the Citadel. In everything, she is meticulous, careful, and guarded. She travels with well-armed companions most of the time, usually a turian with a sniper rifle and the apparent skill required to use it, and a quarian woman armed with a high end omni-tool and a shotgun. Occasionally, she brings a krogan battlemaster with deep scars cut into his crimson head plates. I am skilled, but I am not foolish.

The only time she is not meticulous, careful, and guarded is when she goes to Purgatory. Here, she is not a commander or a marine. Of the three times I have seen her dancing in the club, she has gone to a hotel with a stranger twice.

I will be the third. It is the only way to avoid unnecessary violence.

Her cerulean dress clings to her skin as if it is a part of her, hard planes of muscle, broad shoulders all on display. Long legs disappear into the fabric stretched across muscular thighs. Now that she is standing, I can see her pistol strapped to her leg, below the short hem of her dress. It is a HMWP, the kind of handgun only a Spectre can get. Her status as the Council’s agent may be the reason why she is allowed to wear it so brazenly here. She does not wear synthetic leather or latex like most of the other dancers. I can feel the breathable, light, organic weave of her dress, soft under my fingers as she guides my hand to her waist.

The music moves through her with a shiver and she is overtaken by a spell. Eden presses her back against me, her eyes are closed and she is adrift in an ocean of harmonic waves. Then, almost as soon as she started, she stumbles, loses the rhythm and she can’t quite seem to get it back. I'm surprised by this, I have seen how she moves during a fight, the rhythm of gunfire guides her and she sows violence with the grace of a ballet dancer. It is why I have chosen to isolate her, she has the skills necessary to be a challenge.

This is clumsy. I know she is not inebriated, her glass is still sitting on the bartop, the honey colored liquid vibrates with the pulsating beat.

She throws her head back against my shoulder, and she laughs. The sound is jubilant, it rolls out of her with reckless abandon, and I am infected. I have not felt unadulterated joy in so long, it awakens a fire within me. The curve of her neck, a fragile thing, easily broken with the right twist of my hands, is exposed to me, and my mind is filled instead with thoughts of suckling on the tender skin there. I want to hear what other sounds I can draw from soft, rose-colored lips.

“I’ve never been good at dancing,” she shouts over the oscillations filling the air around us, she is still laughing, still moving off beat. I find myself enraptured, she throws herself so fully into an endeavor that she is mediocre at without embarrassment.

I have forgotten why I am here. No, I remember, I cannot forget. My goal has changed very suddenly, to end a life such as this would be as snuffing out a sun. The galaxy would grow unbearably bleak without the light of her gold-flecked eyes and the pure, sonorous mirth of her laughter.

I pull her flush against me, I feel the way her abdomen tightens under my palms, and a pleased sigh escapes from her, barely audible over the noise. But I am listening for every melodious note that she will bless me with. I lean down, my lips play across the ridge of her ear, “I will lead you, Eden. We will move as one tonight.”

A shiver rolls down her spine, and her cheeks blossom with color. “Yes,” her response flows out on a gentle breath. She wraps her hands over mine, and we are moving in tandem. Her eyes close again and she gives in, she surrenders control. The way she moves against me is full of power and promise, but she wants to be led. I feel a cord being pulled taut within me, I am full of wanting, and I need to feel her writhe like this beneath me.

As we dance, sweat gathers in beads like crystals along the swell of her breasts, and they roll suggestively into the valley between, disappearing where I cannot see them any longer. She guides one of my hands up her body, it ghosts teasingly over her chest, before she brings our hands to a rest against the side of her neck. I apply the faintest hint of pressure, I can feel the strain of tendons and ridges of her throat.

She moans, a sound of pure desire, and her fingers tighten over mine. “I have a room nearby, stay with me tonight?” A panting and plaintive request, it sounds almost like a prayer. It is I who should be praying to her.

I do not want to deny her, I do not believe that I could. “I said we would move as one tonight. Have you slept with a drell before?”

“I’ve never even seen anyone who looks like you before,” she pauses for a moment before continuing, “You’re beautiful.” She does not seem embarrassed by the admission, and I feel my heart swell with pride.

“I have venom, on my skin, on my tongue. You will be exposed to it.”

She is silent for precious heartbeats, I can feel her pulse quicken with my hand still pressed against her neck. “Will it kill me? Make me sick?”

I am at her ear again, and I can feel her squirm to try to move closer. “No. Eden, it will rob you of your senses until all that you know is the pleasure that I will give you. You will soar to the cosmos with my tongue in between your legs.” Her body shudders and I can feel how she is squeezing her thighs together. Her heart is racing, excitement thrums through her veins, just as it is through mine.

“Fuck,” she groans, and I can feel the warmth rising from her cheeks down to her breasts. She has already come undone for me.

Her grip around my hand increases, and suddenly she is pulling me away from the dance floor and quickly out of the club. The sudden silence is shocking, and I have to shake my head to clear the momentary confusion.

“I know a shortcut, I hope you’re not afraid of back alley thugs?”

It is my turn to laugh, it’s a sound I have not heard in too long. “Not at all.”

Eden’s head tilts a little, and she grins. Something cocksure and self-satisfied falls over her features. She enjoys the risk, and invites the danger to meet her. I have now seen the two faces of the same goddess. “Good. I would much rather see a gun in my face than another reporter’s camera.” I understand now why she comes all the way here to escape her duties and the pressure of being the first human Spectre.

I allow her to lead me through the alleys, though I already know where we're going. The last two were not brave enough to go this way, but I remember the twists and turns of this maze. I have been here before. I know it so well, I can easily spend the walk watching the subtle swing of her hips, the robust curve of her ass, and the sinewy muscles working in her legs as she walks ahead of me. She never looks behind at me, she is alert, her right hand lingers next to her hip, ready to draw her gun in a moment.

It is unnecessary. We arrive at the small hotel, well known for hosting Alliance marines on shore leave, without seeing a soul. She unlocks the door and she surprises me by turning to face me and pulling me into the room after her. The omni-tool on her wrist glows amber, and the door locks behind us. She has me by the collar of my synthetic weave armor, and her lips press into mine and they are even softer than they look. She giggles as I pull her flush against me.

“Do you always wear armor to go clubbing?” She asks her question to my mouth, she sounds deeply amused, not suspicious.

“Do you always wear a gun to go dancing?” I respond with a question that does not answer her query. I am so hot and it is taking all of my willpower not to rush. It is taking all of my willpower not to reveal my true name.

I can feel her smile, but I cannot see it, so close she is to me. “Fair enough … You’re going to have to give me some guidance, I don’t know where I should touch you,” she admits, her breath still warm against my lips.

I am an assassin, not a professor, but I will teach her tonight. I take her hand in mine and bring it to the frills at my neck, "Here, gently." I feel as she runs her thumb slowly across the folds there, she is watching her hand move as though she is trying to memorize the experience. Her touch sends electrical pulses through me, and warmth follows her fingers in a trail. Eden does not notice that I have unzipped her dress until the small straps holding it up fall loose on her arms.

She is not shy, however. Her answer is to step back and pull the garment up and over her head, and simultaneously kick off her shoes. She is suddenly a few inches shorter, but I barely notice. Eden Shepard stands before me wearing only underwear and a gun holster, and she is resplendent. The cheap lights illuminate freckled skin and soft breasts, the rise and fall of her chest is hypnotic. The small cloth barely covering the rest of her is soaked with her arousal, and I am overcome by this burning lust that has been building inside of me.

I want to taste her, all of her, starting with her mouth. I take her, my hand finds its way into the soft hair at the back of her head, and her heat is pulled against me, I can feel it even through my armor. Before I can take her mouth for mine, her hand gently falls to my lips. "Wait," she says. Her lids are heavy and she has not moved away, but still I worry that I've offended her. "I want to see all of you first. I want to be able to remember what you look like, clearly."

"Of course," I answer, and soon she is helping me remove the pieces of my armor. I am now as vulnerable as she is, more, in fact. She is still wearing her gun, and I know she's a powerful biotic in her own right. If her plan all along was to put me under a spell and bring me here so that she could end me, it would have worked.

But that is not what she does. Hazel eyes sweep over my form, and she is unabashed in her hunger. "Beautiful," she whispers, and this time she does not stop me from breathing in her praise as I claim her lips. She tastes faintly of the whiskey, but underneath it, something like citrus, she must have eaten before going to Purgatory. I brush my thumb over the roundness of her cheek, it is rougher than I imagined. Chapped by the winds of some barely hospitable planet, I think. As I am contemplating where she must have been last, I reach and undo the buckles holding her gun to her leg. It falls to the floor, and she doesn't care.

Her hands are all over me, her earlier hesitation forgotten as they roam every surface she can touch. She uses feathering touches along my waist and I cannot stop the rumbling chuckle that moves out of me in response, I am ticklish there. Eden hums in delight, and I catalog it as another of her sounds that I will cherish forever after this night. I know I will never see her again after this.

I memorize her on this night. Every sigh, every groan, every pleasured shout. The way she smells, jasmine mixed with the salt of her sweat and the musk of her desire. I know her taste and every place that makes her quiver and shake. The strength of her grasp as she pulls me against her and shouts a name she believes is mine. I will remember her eyes. First, as they were in Purgatory, bright and earthy. Then, as they were as we found release together, pupils so wide, only a thin halo of hazel around depths so dark, I am forever drowning in them.

I am saddened that she cannot remember as I can, but I hope she will think of me fondly. I will always remember how she sleeps on her stomach, an arm and a leg flung over the edge of the bed. I will remember the faintest sound of laughter at something only she can see, her dream bringing her some joke or oddity.

I must leave before she wakes. I am thrice damned and banished from the Garden of Eden of my own accord. I do not deserve to bask in her holy light.

I think I will go to Illium next.

I am crawling through an air ventilation shaft. It is a trite, stereotypical way to conduct an assassination, but effective nonetheless. I am not above convention if it leads me directly to my target. There is a group of soldiers fighting their way up the tower. They are the perfect distraction, this will be far simpler with their unknowing aid.

When I arrive at her office, my target is talking to someone, offering credits in exchange for the opportunity to keep her life. I can't hear the voice of the one she speaks to clearly. Nassana Dantius does not hear me drop from the ceiling.

I land behind a guard. Human male, rear approach, check shoulder to prevent turning, hands to chin and base of skull, neck-snap. Heavy pistol fire to dispatch the remaining guard. Nassana turns, I hold her in my arms as one might while comforting a lover and I shepherd her to the waters so lovingly tended by Kalahira.

There are three soldiers staring at me, but prayers for the wicked must not be forsaken. To my surprise, they wait for me to finish. As I turn to face them, their leader, a woman, puts her hands on her verdant helmet. She is a freelancer, perhaps.

"Well, I'll be damned, what a small galaxy," she says after a surprised chuckle. Even through the gentle warp of her breather helmet, it is a laugh that I treasure in my memories. A gentle hiss as the seal around her bright green helmet is released and chestnut hair falls in a wave, framing a smile like the sun, but her tooth is no longer chipped. Eyes the color of desert sands glimmering under the rays of an autumn sun look back at me. Her cheeks are covered in spidering, but healing scars. There can be no denying it, Eden Shepard stands before me. "It's safe to assume that your name never was Niké, was it?"

She is amused, I can hear her pure, sonorous, mirthful laughter hiding there, just beneath the surface of her question. "I apologize for the deception, Eden. It seemed necessary, at the time." She raises an eyebrow at me, I think perhaps she understands the context, but she is not upset. "I thought you were dead," I remark, everyone knows that she was killed two years ago. And not by me. It seems that fortune favors the bold, and there is no one bolder than her.

"I was dead - spaced with a suit rupture. But apparently it takes more than that to stop me!" She raises her armored fist in the air, a victorious gesture. She is laughing again, soulful eyes twinkle, and I feel the fire awaken in me once more. She is merry in spite of her own mortality. "I'm taking on the Collectors. I need someone with your skills on my team, Thane." I am blessed by my true name on her soft, rose-colored lips.

It is only now that I fully comprehend her two compatriots, a turian with a sniper rifle and the apparent skill required to use it, and a quarian woman armed with a high end omni-tool and a shotgun.

It is a small galaxy, indeed.

[dovahbee]

SHADOW BROKER: INTERCEPTED pt2

Subject(s): Tali’Zorah vas Normandy, Garrus Vakarian, Jane Shepard, Jeff Moreau

Location(s): Normandy SR2, Omega Nebula

Mode(s): text, group communication, screen captures

-

20:15- [Tali has added Jane Shepard, Garrus Vakarian and Jeff Moreau to a chat]

20:15- [Tali named the chat Saren Hate Club]

20:16- [Jeff Moreau changed their name to Joker]

20:16- [Jane Shepard changed their name to Shepard]

20:17- [Garrus Vakarian changed Shepard’s name to Jane]

20:18- JANE: fuck off

20:18- GARRUS VAKARIAN: are we not on a first name basis, Jane?

20:18- [Jane changed Garrus Vakarian’s name to Assangel]

20:18- TALI: why do we put up with him

20:18- JOKER: he’s a diversity hire

20:18- JANE: his Cerberus dossier called him a ‘tactical genius’. shoulda guessed he was a smartass

20:18- ASSANGEL: words hurt

20:19- TALI: Gabby and Ken are driving me crazy they need to just KISS ALREADY

20:19- ASSANGEL: do quarians kiss the same as humans and asari?

20:19- JANE: yup

20:19- ASSANGEL: personal experience, Jane?

20:19- JANE: i use this crazy thing called the extranet, you should try it some time

20:19- JOKER: are you two gonna kiss?

20:19- JANE: in his dreams

20:20- ASSANGEL: you know… the other day Shepard told me about this extremely enlightening human game

20:20- JANE: no garrus

20:20- ASSANGEL: they call it ‘fuck, marry, kill’

20:20- TALI: humans are quite simple creatures aren’t they?

20:20- ASSANGEL: indeed

20:21- JANE: alright, i see how things are

20:21- JOKER: Aria, Sparatus and Udina

20:21- JANE: nope

20:21- ASSANGEL: fuck Aria, marry Sparatus and kill Udina

20:21- TALI: switch Aria and Sparatus

20:22- JANE: Sparatus is such an uptight asshole (like most turians). could never marry that guy

20:22- ASSANGEL: well… i hope so. if you know what i mean

20:22- JOKER: nice

20:22- JANE: hah ur gay

20:22- ASSANGEL: is anyone on this ship straight?

20:22- TALI: Zaeed maybe

20:23- JOKER: you really think that guy remembers all his sexual encounters?

20:23- TALI: maybe Grunt?

20:23- ASSANGEL: ive never heard of a gay krogan

20:23- JANE: you ever asked one?

20:23- ASSANGEL: Shepard, i didn’t even know krogan were capable of higher thought processes until I met Wrex

20:23- JANE: god you’re the worst

20:23- TALI: xenophobe

20:23- JOKER: i would actually argue that he’s a xenophile

20:23- JANE: why’s that?

20:23- ASSANGEL: please don’t

20:23- JOKER: big guy asked me for human/turian porn recs

20:23- TALI: HE WHAT

20:23- JANE: BUSTED

20:25- [Assangel changed their name to Garrus]

20:25- GARRUS: you’re terribly mistaken

20:25- JANE: joker, thank you. i owe you one. think t’soni would want this info?

20:25- TALI: already sent it

20:25- JANE: i think this is the best day of my life

[sparatus]

BATHHOUSE BULLSHIT

wip game

TEEHEE so bathhouse bullshit is an exchange fill, not secret because we crave validation, but it's desabrudas early years back when they still only sometimes got along

basic premise is the shitbird squad (des, valis, heavy, mal, and lup) are on gothis, already a garbage miserable planet, and the weather has been god fucking awful, nonstop rain for like a month, it's terrible, nobody's in a good mood and even best friends are at each other's throats, so the brass springs for a morale booster day including some time at a local spa. both des and val are looking for time away from other people, but end up in the same private room, and are both too proud and stubborn to just bow out and find a different one. arguing and one-upmanship and "i hate that you're attractive, fuck you" ogling ensues.

and here, a snip feat. baby saren, for comedy reasons:

--

Saren looked up reviews online for him. Didn't even say a word, just pulled it up on the cheap little terminal he used for school, slid it down the coffee table to Des, and went back to the historically-accurate Thiayan sentry tower he was building in CuBuild. It wasn't even a shitty spa like he’d been expecting, and that might have pissed him off even more if the mere concept of an actual soak in a hot tub instead of a shitty, low-pressure shower wasn't getting him vibrating out of his plates already. Friendly staff, massages, glowing reviews, plate care... private rooms. A private soak sounded good.

“You should go," Saren told him, pulling his terminal back over so he could consult his references again. “You've been in a bad mood, it would help you."

Desolas twitched. "I have not been in a bad mood,” he grumbled, more automatic than real.

"You were taunting Valis the other day. You only taunt her when you want her to beat you up, and you only want her to beat you up when you're in a sucky mood, ’cause it gives you an excuse to get in a fight.” Saren's eyes hadn't left the vidscreen, now zooming out to check his work. "And you calm down when she throttles you, for some reason. You know therapy’s free, right? We're communists.”

Desolas froze, his neck slowly warming. Oh, he was not having that conversation. Saren was old enough to know about sex, he was eleven, imperial public education covered sex ed starting at nine, but there was no age old enough to know why his big brother got woozy and in a better mood after a giant Edessi held him down and crushed him against the earth. And what business did he have calling him out like that, anyway? Fucking kid.

He watched the screen for a minute, then leaned over. “You forgot the quad."

Saren's mandibles fluttered. “The quad?"

“Yeah, the quad. Y'know. To complete the big, throbbing krogan dick you're building.”

Now it was Saren's turn to freeze, staring at the screen like a baby varren had just gotten its head lopped off in front of him. Desolas raised his hand to point. "See, there's the head, and that's the ridging, and–”

He was interrupted by a strangled shriek and a puny preteen scrabbling at his arm and cowl, and then wrestling his brother on the floor restored his mood enough to text Malcolus to put his name on the list for him. After he’d let Saren win and assured him his tower looked great and definitely not like a krogan penis, of course.