@tarysande / tarysande.tumblr.com
This is by no means going to be exhaustive, but I want to take a moment to explain why the notion of Garrus as jealous, possessive, or sometimes violently jealously possessive (especially where Shepard and other potential Shepard love interests are concerned) doesn't hold a lot of water for me, canonically-speaking.
made a new header gif for my blog~ i’ll just leave this here <3
Note: The good news is you get a long chapter. The bad news is, the chapter's too long to throw on tumblr (why oh why won't they fix the mobile read mores?), so you'll have to read at AO3 or FF.net this time around. Links above, or below the teaser.
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Forty-Seven: A Welcome of Indifference
Time was a funny thing, Shepard mused as she let herself into the darkened prefab. Sometimes time moved exceptionally slowly. The last moments she’d spent with Anderson up on the Citadel had seemed an eternity marked by heartbeats and the certainty of endings. Instead of returning to the natural order of sand running through an hourglass, everything since had felt much more like that timepiece was broken and she left scrabbling desperately to save some handful of it for herself.
On Earth, time raced. The days disappeared, caught up in conversations and meetings, interviews and introductions. Formalities on the surface, but every one weightier than the last. Each night she fell into bed and slept the dreamless sleep of the exhausted, comforted by the solid warmth of Garrus beside her. Each morning she woke imagining rain, only to find the Vancouver sun still improbably shining.
And then it was three days later, and the party loomed, and Shepard, having spent all her time distracted by problems and solutions and smiling for cameras that needed her to smile and saying, “We’re going to get through this,” because hers was a voice that could say such things and maybe be believed, felt woefully unprepared.
MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!! And even if you don't celebrate this date in particular, I wish you a very wonderful day, and every good thing in the year to come. This fandom has always made me feel so tremendously welcome, and I can't thank you enough for your kindness and friendship and support.
So, uh, have a little Christmassy Shakarian fluff? <3
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Garrus didn’t immediately let himself into the cabin, even though Shepard had told him he was welcome to come and go as he pleased. It still felt… presumptuous, somehow. When she didn’t answer the chime, though, and EDI informed him she was definitely inside and not sleeping, he tapped the opening mechanism. She sat at her desk, stacks of datapads to one side, her console lit up, and a long-cold cup of coffee at her elbow. If she hadn’t drunk her coffee, he knew damned well she hadn’t paused to eat.
He leaned against the wall behind her for a few moments, watching her work. Even here, in the privacy of her cabin, she was precise, methodical, no movement wasted, her focus absolute. She hummed under her breath, a little snatch of song he doubted she was aware of singing, and he smiled.
“Garrus,” she said, without turning around. Her fingers flew over the haptic interface, and her humming was replaced by a muttered curse. “Does the primarch need me for something? Running interference between him and Wrex again?”
“They’re abiding by their truce today.”
“Mmm. Good.” She lifted one of the datapads, sighed, and shifted it to a second pile. He couldn’t see it from his vantage, but the sigh wasn’t a good one.
“Joker’s wearing a hat.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“A red one. With white… fur. He keeps repeating the word ho and insisting he’s, uh, jolly.”
“Mmm.” She didn’t even glance at him, merely shifting her head from one hand to the other, her shoulders obviously stiff from being bent over the console too long.
“A fat man in a red suit, Shepard? Really?”
PLEASE NOTE: THE CHAPTER NUMBERING IS MESSED UP ON THE ARCHIVE SITES BECAUSE I POSTED NOTES ABOUT YE OLDE STOLEN COMPUTER. I'll try and sort that out later. I just wanted to be sure that anyone waiting for notifications actually received them on this chapter.
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Forty-Five: Mixing Memory and Desire
When they reached the prefab unit she'd been assigned, Shepard shot Garrus a look that said, clear as words, give me a minute. He nodded, a little reluctantly. He wasn't entirely sure what Shepard and Jack conferred about so often these days, but he wasn't blind and he wasn't stupid, and he was pretty sure she'd set the biotic as a kind of watchdog. Even at rest, even when smiling or mouthing off, Jack's posture remained wary, heightened. Vigilant. Garrus knew vigilance intimately; it was as familiar to him as the kick of a Mantis or the endlessly scrolling information of his visor.
Pairing: Shepard/Garrus
Summary: Ten billion people over here die, so twenty billion over there can live. After the war, there are pieces to pick up, and lives to rebuild. And even with the Reapers gone, nothing is easy.
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Forty-Four: Falling Towers
An inked and colored version of my Shakarian cuddles sketch for N7 day!
Pairing: Shepard/Garrus
Summary: Ten billion people over here die, so twenty billion over there can live. After the war, there are pieces to pick up, and lives to rebuild. And even with the Reapers gone, nothing is easy.
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Forty-Three: An Age of Prudence
As the skycar pulled to a silent stop outside a building remarkable only because, in spite of its damaged facade it was still mostly intact in an area surrounded by crumbled walls, twisted metal, and shattered glass, Shepard tilted her head and scowled out the window. “Months,” she muttered. “Months I was in this city and could count on both hands the days the sun shone, with the toes of one foot thrown in for generosity’s sake. Now, when I’m counting on it? Spite, I tell you. Pure meteorological spite.”
Even as she said it, though, she recalled the last day she’d spent in Vancouver. Hard not to. Here, away from the lights and questions, away from the role of Commander and the reporters waiting to record her performance, she could hardly escape the harshness of the changed reality. Gone were the crowds of citizens; gone the streams of skycars; gone the noble skyline. Not, of course, that she’d had much opportunity to explore when last she’d been here. If Alliance HQ were still standing, she doubted she’d recognize the view from her old window. Even with the sun shining, the sky could hardly be called blue, and the clouds, certainly, were no longer white. Too much ash, now. Too much smoke.
This is Garrus' reaction shot after the clone reveal. (I know his hands are up because he dropped his weapon, but I can't help laughing at the WHOA, WTF-ness of his whole demeanor.)
Hey, so it's Garrus Appreciation Week. And... uh, turns out I really appreciate Garrus. Basically this is the breakdown of how my Grace Shepard/Garrus Vakarian fics work, continuity-wise. (These are all AO3 links.)
Gargalesthesia (Garrus POV)
(ETA: Somewhere in there, Shepard survives the Skyllian Blitz. Cold Skies, Keen Perils tells that story.)
A Good Day (Garrus POV. Spans time mentioned in JLOT letters H-L, between ME1-ME2)
Apodyopsis (Shepard, Garrus POVs, pre-romance initiation ME2)
Talking Too Much (Shepard POV. Spans romance plot of ME2, including time mentioned in JLOT letters R-S)
Both a Little Broken (Shepard POV after the Suicide Mission.)
Ayurnamat (Solana Vakarian POV)
Something Like Home (Garrus POV. Time between Arrival-ME3, including JLOT letter T)
Brontide (Kaius Vakarian POV, during SLH Chapter 2)
A Good Plan (Solana Vakarian POV, during SLH Chapter 3)
Gargalesthesia (Garrus POV, early ME3)
Grapholagnia (Shepard POV, early ME3)
One Step at a Time (Shepard POV. During geth dreadnought mission)
Lalochezia (Garrus POV, after geth dreadnought mission, before Priority: Rannoch)
Duende (Garrus POV)
Make It An Hour (Garrus POV)
A Number of Quiet Attentions (Shepard POV)
Gynmophoria (Tali POV)
Winner Takes All (Garrus POV)
Malapert (Garrus POV)
Life Signs (Shepard and Garrus POVs. Mission goes terribly wrong. Set late in ME3)
Ordering In (Shepard POV)
Body Language (Garrus POV)
Capernoited (Garrus POV, set after Citadel party)
Agelast (Joker POV, just before AHOD)
A Handful of Dust (In-progress endgame fic. Garrus and Shepard POVs.)
Nothing Looks the Way it Should (Kaidan POV, roughly concurrent with AHOD Chapter 2)
Anagapesis (AHOD outtake, Shepard POV at some point before AHOD Chapter 13)
Pairing: Shepard/Garrus
Summary: Ten billion people over here die, so twenty billion over there can live. After the war, there are pieces to pick up, and lives to rebuild. And even with the Reapers gone, nothing is easy.
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Forty-Two: Hushing the Room Enclosed
The silence in the cab was absolute for a full ten seconds. Shepard counted. Beside her, Hackett stared down at his empty palms as if trying to read his future there, and was, perhaps, finding it uncertain; she knew exactly how he felt. Garrus glanced at her over the admiral’s head, his mandibles flicking in a silent question. She shook her head. His father’s face did not betray even that much emotion; Vakarian watched Hackett with an utterly inscrutable expression, even by turian standards. Kaidan jammed his hat back over his hair, pulling the brim low, settling his hands on the car’s controls but keeping the vehicle stationary for the moment.
Finally, Hackett raised his eyes to meet hers and said, “My absence will be noted.”
“Not for some time, I believe, sir. Lieutenant Cortez will take the other skycar on a bit of a jaunt, and while I was talking to the press, Garrus was rigging the car with a program to convince anyone listening in that you’re showing me the sights after my long absence. None of us are in a mood for talking, but there’s enough of Garrus and I chattering to keep your listeners tuned in.”
“Interspersed with a few of the more abominable dance hits of the last several years,” Garrus added. “As punishment for their espionage.”
“And let me tell you,” Shepard added mildly, “if anyone knows abominable dance music…”
Garrus shot her an unimpressed look. “Funny, Shepard.”
Title: The Last Case of Garrus Vakarian
Author: anonymous moose
Universe: Mass Effect
Rating: T
Disclaimer: implications of violence, language
Summary: That last night on the Citadel wasn’t one he’d ever forget. It was the night he crossed a line.
Author’s Note: It’s technically still her birthday, so this one’s for you, tarysande.
Oh, Moose, thank you <3
I don't want to give too much away in talking about it here, but this is great. The structure really worked. Knowing what comes next made it all the more phenomenal; I really like your take, here, on the whys and hows of leaving.
And what a nice treat to see Sorono again! <3
"It’s so easy to see the galaxy in black and white. Grey? I don’t know what to do with grey."
Cop, vigilante, Expert Advisor on the Reaper Threat to the Turian Hierarchy. He’s Garrus Vakarian. Codename: Archangel. All-around turian bad boy and dispenser of justice in an unjust galaxy. Also, he kills Reapers on the side. On Tuesday, it’s time to show some love for everyone’s favorite wise-cracking calibrations expert.
I’ll be watching #garrus, #garrus vakarian, #garrus appreciation week, and #masseffectlove. If you have original-post links you want to send my way, you can always submit them for me to reblog or send an ask pointing me in the right direction.
The commission and gratis commission I did for undeadpotatoes! So much lovely Shakarian feelings!
Too lazy to clean it more >^< but I’ll draw them more and more anyway .
Looks like we have a stowaway on the S.S. Shakarian. Space hamster Boo really loves how warm it is inside Garrus’ cowl.
(This is what happens when I get bored on Shakarian Sunday…)
