Short answer: I pulled an ME2 Commander Shepard and went MIA.
Long answer: Disclaimer. I did not die. But I did all but drop off the face of the earth. Iâve been absent on this platform for a number of reasons.
1. I was accepted back into my grad program after an academic probation, but I was on thin. friggin. ice. Like, the conditions for my readmission were that I had to get all Aâs for the rest of my degree and submit special reports to track my progress. One slip up and I was out for good. After acceptance I had to use my first semester back to determine where I was spending most of my free time, and those places were my art and Tumblr. I had to give them the axe so that I could focus on school. On the plus side, Iâm almost done, and will have my Masterâs at the end of August! And post-grad means more art time again.
2. December was a majorly shitty month for me personally. Â In a lot of ways, even after six months Iâm still trying to recover from it. I have a lot of paranoia and distrust still with interacting online, but Iâm getting there. Bear with me on that.
3. The tumblr no-nudies censorship deal was a hot mess and I just needed to sit that one out for a bit.
Major thanks to everyone that has given me a follow in the past six months or left a kind comment on my posts. Even bigger thanks to all the stellar folks who reached out to me and had the patience to wait this out while I got my shit together. I only started reading the comments and reblogs on my art and writing this week. It means more to me than I can ever say.Â
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ON THAT NOTE IâM STILL SCREAMING ABOUT THIS OMG. Woke up to TWO emails this morning containing art and I am very very emotional about this right now okay because LOOKIT THE DORKS.
Commissioned the lovely @bethadastra / @bethadastra-art for a reference shot of my newest OCâs, Rainer Vakarian and Rose Evans from my Andromeda fic Rose and Rainer and holy shit they look amazing ;____; . They look like they stepped out of my brain and onto the page like holy crap Beth they look so gooood ⼠LOOK AT RAINER. LOOK AT ROSE. IâM FLABBERGASTED AHHHHHHHH ⼠⼠THANK YOUUUUU âĽ
If you get the chance to commission Beth DO IT OMG âĽ
Darlingest @bethadastra, I was your holiday husk for this yearâs @masseffectholidaycheer gift exchange. I hope this gift finds you in good health and brings you a little January joy.
A physical gift should appear in your mailbox any day now, too. Hereâs some Shepard/Garrus to tide you over until it arrives!
Pairing: Garrus Vakarian/Female Shepard (Bethâs Liz, if you squint).
Rating: A very soft M.
When
#Â
Normandy SR-1
Garrus was familiar with humans, of course. During his time at C-Sec, heâd had enough colleagues on one side of the table and perps on the other to learn quite a lot about the intricacies of the expressions their malleable faces wore. Heâd had time to grow accustomed to the multi-colored hair on their heads and faces. Heâd seen their small, five-fingered hands form fists and clutch firearms and fill out countless after-action reports.
The hands, he decided, were the strangest.
And the most captivating.
Shepardâs especially.
Heâd done time in the turian military; he was well-versed in turian hand signals. Hell, C-Sec was a turian brainchild; it was the humans whoâd had to adapt their five-fingered hands to signals designed for three digits.
Joining Shepardâs squad was different. His were the hands that needed to adapt. Because Shepardâs Alliance-trained gestures were so different, he found himself watching her hands carefully all the time, both on and off the field.
Heâd never noticed how often humans punctuated their words with their hands. Heâd never noticed the way human hands sometimes told different stories than the human faces above them. Even when Shepardâs expression gave him little to go on, it was surprising how often her hands gave him the clues he needed to figure out if she was pissed or frustrated or even, on an occasion or two, sad.
If he were still filling out forms and running into red tape at C-Sec, heâd probably have sent out a memo. Note to non-human C-Sec personnel: Watch their hands; surprisingly effective gauge of mood/thoughts/imminent violence.
Then again, maybe someoneâPallin, Chellick, his dadâhad already sent that memo, and heâd ignored it.
He knew better now.
But it wasnât just battlefield hand signals and punctuation, not with Shepard. When she settled her small hand on Wrexâs huge shoulder and gave it a pat, Garrus hadnât been able to contain his flinch. But Wrex only smiled and grumbled something about humans being soft. Didnât move his shoulder out from under the touch, though.
Shepardâs fingers seemed impossibly nimbleânot awkward or extraneous at allâwhen he watched her break down her weapons and clean them so impeccably even Garrusâ father wouldnât have been able to find fault with her work. He certainly couldnât. Hell, it was a show heâd watch all day if he hadnât worried about having to explain himself if he got caught staring.
Omega
Squinting through his scope, so tired and strung out on stims he thought he was hallucinating, he noticed the N7âwhite and red and impossibleâfirst. From his sniperâs perch, he couldnât see the details of the face behind the helmet. He blinked twice, though it cost him a second he could have spent blowing another head off another set of shoulders.
Idiot mercs and their idiot cannon fodder. Pointless. So damned pointless.
Idiot Archangel and the idiot trust heâd given to Lantar Sidonis.
Pointless.
The N7 didnât disappear when he blinked, though. A moment later, a human hand lifted, gestured, and a pair of other soldiersâin Cerberus colors, of all things; that last batch of stims had been a mistakeâswept out to either side, removing heads from shoulders for him.
His eyes didnât leave the N7-armor-clad hand. Not even when that hand dropped to cradle a gun. Not even when the finger squeezed the trigger, sending a spray of bullets into the backs of the same idiot mercs that were trying to kill him.
Two years.
It was a long time.
Not long enough for him to forget Shepardâs hands, Shepardâs gestures.
When those hands spread wide and a dead woman said, âGarrus!â not fifteen minutes later, he let himself hope.
When those hands took the rifle he offered, and the rifle did not clatter to the ground the way it would have done if they were a ghostâs hands, he let himself believe.
And when, through the thunder of agony, he recognized Shepardâs hands, blue-stained and tentatively, gently touching his broken face, he let himself believe he had something to live for after all, no matter what the damned gunship had intended.
Normandy SR-2
Before they went through the Omega-4 relay, Garrus learned new things about human hands that put his imagination to shame and would never have made it into a C-Sec memo.
Human hands were warm, and soft, and strangely smooth, but they could clutch the curve of waist or jut of hip as firmly as any turian hand. Shepardâs hands were pale; her nails kept short and blunt. The scrape of those nails down his hide made him shiver.
The gentle pressure of her fingertips against his aching slit made him shake.
And when she curled her fingers around the base of his cock and began to strokeâsoft, warm, firm, Spiritsâhe saw stars, stars and the smug smirk just beginning to tilt the corners of Shepardâs mouth.
So, he stole the advantageâreach, flexibilityâand twisted her onto her back, capturing her nimble hands, her devious hands, her perfect hands in his and pinning them above her head.
âYou know what they say about turnabout,â he murmured against the side of her neck, where he could feel her pulse racing against his mandible.
Human handsâShepardâs handsâclutched and clenched and scrabbled in the sheets, and when she cameâsoftwarmfirmâwith his name on her tongue, her fingers dug into his shoulders hard enough to bring her name to his tongue, too.
Afterward, as her fingers drew lazy circles against the hide at his waist, he watched them through half-lidded eyes and wondered why heâd ever thought five-fingered hands anything less than miraculous.
Menae
When the galaxy went to hell set to the inexorable soundtrack of Reaper klaxons screaming, Garrusâ world shrank to the size of his war map. Systems flashed red and dark; worlds glowed until they didnât; ships vanished faster than he could keep track of.
He got a message that Earth had fallen.
His hands closed into fists, then. He did not smash his war map; he did not throw the offending datapad to the ground. He just nodded. Nodded, grabbed a rifle, and went to the edge of the encampment to shoot at Reaper forces until he was out of heat sinks and he could pretend he was all right.
He wasnât, of course. But hell. Who was?
The Reapers wailed and wailed.
And then, not unlike that N7 heâd spotted through his scope when heâd thought his life was already over, a name came over the comms. A name. A request.
Hope.
Back at base, Shepardâs hand was there, reaching out. Corinthus watched him, missing nothing. Garrus paid him to miss nothing; he sure as shit wasnât going to miss this, even if the gesture was a human one.
With Palaven burning behind him and the shriek of husks still ringing in his ears, Garrus didnât give a single damn. He took Shepardâs hand, shook it. Held it like it was the most precious thing in a galaxy in its death throes that had already lost far, far too much.
Maybe it was. Heâd seen these hands do the impossible on more than one occasion, after all.
He didnât think he imagined the hint of a smile as his other hand closed over their joined grip.
One brief instant stolen for themâShepard and Vakarianâsince he knew theyâd be back to their impossibly heavy roles in the space of a heartbeat or two or three. Commander Shepard, resident savior of the galaxy. Garrus Vakarian, the turian Hierarchyâs Expert Advisor on the Reaper Threat.
âIâm hard to kill,â he said, with the first hint of a smile since heâd received news from Taetrus. âYou should know that.â
Shepard smiled back, broader, and he definitely didnât imagine the genuine relief in her voice when she said, âGood to see you again.â
And when, a few minutes later, she asked if he was coming, he didnât hesitate. Her hand gestured, though he already knew where she was sending him.
Into hell. At her back. Just like old times.
When his hands, ever so faintly trembling, reached for his rifle, he knew that until the end of the galaxy, heâd never let himself be directed anywhere else, by any hands other than hers.
Joining the HC party: Eli has a cute nose wrinkle/wiggle when sheâs irritated, esp upon hearing bad puns. Ales knows this and takes full advantage of it. Also, even as an adult, Marcus is a sweet cinnamon roll, and is so bad with slang that Juna has to explain different âbad wordsâ that he learns from his subordinates because he doesnât know any better đ
1 - Her nose doesnât wiggle when she is irritated! It does wrinkle and flares. And yes, Ales finds the worst puns just for that!
2 - Marcus is indeed a sweet cinnamon roll, but also by choice and personality. He learned all the repertoire from dad, the colony and his time in the armiger. His drill instructor persona is the very opposite of wholesome when it comes to language. Heâs a armiger. But at home? No curse words. Never. His desk jockey of a sister has nothing on her wholesome brother when it comes to bad words. Â :p
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I saw the tags you left for my Turian art history shenanigans, and I pretty much died and came back to life. I would also like to submit for your consideration: Turian Bauhaus and artists that criticize imperialism by using non-Turian media and subject matter (because I'm a major art history geek) đđť
Oh my goodness, Bauhaus is sooooo turian! I LOVE IT.
And thereâs gotta be political dissidents, right? The War onTaetrus is evidence enough of that. I like to think that in Andromeda, whenKandros talks about his sister becoming a sculptor (which could easily fallinto the category of art thatâs deliberately useless), thatâs code for her moreor less becoming politically vocal and critical of the Turian Hierarchy. Andfor a âbig military nameâ like theirs, thatâs a significant career choice thatcould easily be embarrassing for the whole family. Like, maybe she does aseries of sculptures criticizing the Hierarchyâs treatment of volus as a âclientraceâ but still wonât advocate for them to have a seat on the Council?
I also like to think about how the various art histories ofdifferent races influence each other when they come into contact. Like, I feellike turians would find the revenge tragedies of the Renaissance especially entertaining.Not only do they involve a revenger rooting out the corrupt and immoral lord(whoâs definitely not a cipher forthe king irl, we swear), but the revenger himself is then also destroyed, which returnssociety to balance and unity and allows a good and righteous ruler to ascend.
And because I agree that practicality is what makes a thing beautiful to turians, I also think they would hold crafts in great esteem. Iremember a class I took in college that tried to explain that craftwork isnât âreallyâart because itâs meant to be used every day (I find this argument to be both racistâitwas a class on the art history of Japanâand sexist, not to mention elitist wank), but I think thatâs exactly what would make crafts valuable to turians.
And the cross-racial collaborations! The artists in residence! Is there aturian Andy Warhol (I feel like the asari especially would have more AndyWarhols than is strictly necessaryâthen again, so does humanity)? Does theHierarchy commission artists they know hate them like the Church did withMichelangelo? Goodness, Iâm going to be thinking about his all day now :D
Whatâs the best way to come back to Tumblr after a long hiatus?
Youâre @mebigbang going live!!!!!!!!!!!
I didnât thought this possible... but I did write a 12,000k words story during summer. Thanks to @threewhiskeylunch, @nightmarestudio606 and other members of the Mass Effect fandom who got me into this.
Itâs a story I *actually* really like and which I want to continue in the near future. Letâs cheer for Out of Darkness and the magnificent art by @bethadastra-art (who Iâll never thank enough for choosing my story)!
Beta(s):Â @ex-commander and @nightmarestudio606 (thank you! xoxo)
Pairing:Â Female Shepard/Tiran Kandros
Characters: Female Shepard, Tiran Kandros, Original characters based on the APEX multiplayer in ME:Andromeda
Warnings:Â Coarse language, violence, sexual content
Rating:Â E
Summary:Â Leaving the Milky Way to make a name for herself in the Andromeda galaxy, Shepard, after a 600-year nap, joins a Nexus militia APEX team, Outburst; a band of elite soldiers giving everything they got for the Initiative. Blowing things up seem enough to be happy. But what if this new adventure brings her more; what Shepard always desired: a family, love and a cause to fight for...
For the full story, itâs here!
For the art masterpost, itâs here!
I hope you enjoy your read! Donât hesitate to reblog, leave comments or kudos on AO3. And to like and reblog the artist who participated too!
