Yep. Getting a flame on a fic still makes me sad. Even if said fic was written ten years ago.
It dawned on me that today is the first day of August. I am ridiculously excited about the upcoming month. For good reason, I think.
And then when August is done, there’s only six weeks until my roadtip to spend a few days with theherocomplex, not to mention getting to hopefully see a whole bunch of other people. (details will be closer to the trip!)
This month is going to fly by and I am so excited!
Thank you to the lovely anons who sent this! You guys are the best.
In an attempt to get caught up on fandom stuff, I am now going to read fanfiction for the next three hours. I know, I know. I live such a hard life.
HAPPY (very early) BIRTHDAY thievinghippo!!! I present to you suave!Garrus in military dress uniform. Thank you for giving me the idea so many months ago, and for being born so I have the perfect excuse to work on this!
So my birthday is coming up (gonna be 35 - eeks!) and the lovely mynameiscloud drew this fantastic picture of Garrus for me! Thank you so much!
One time when Cloud asked for idea of things to draw, I suggested Garrus in a military dress uniform. Then we had the fun of figuring out what a turian dress uniform would look like.
I thought perhaps something like Victus’ outfit (cause that’s my favorite turian civilian outfit.) using the colors of the turian armor, red and black. Then Cloud did the rest!
Thank you again! <3
Summary: The evolution of a Shepard, one letter at a time. A Sonya Shepard Alphabet Story.
Notes: For the wonderful theherocomplex.
September 2165 - Pasadena, California, The United North American States
“What do you think, Shepard? The blue or the grey?”
Shepard stood up and fingered the silky material carefully. Nadia, her ‘foster sister,’ stood at the vanity and puckered her mouth and deliberately painted her lips. The color seemed so close to Nadia’s natural lip color that Shepard didn’t much see the point.
Considering the question, Shepard looked Nadia over. The sixteen year old wore a long black skirt and a white long sleeve blouse. “You need some color,” Shepard said after a moment’s deliberation.
“Good point,” Nadia said, picking up the blue hijab and arranged it over her head, using practiced moves. “There.”
Shepard watched as Nadia twirled in front of her, showing off before she left on her date. Nadia was gorgeous, with dark skin and olive colored eyes. But her most beautiful feature, her hair, black, thick and shiny, only a few people ever got to see.
“I believe in modesty,” Nadia had told her when Shepard had asked why she wore the hijab. “No one makes me wear it. Mom doesn’t wear one, but she supports my decision.”
“You look beautiful,” Shepard said honestly as she sat on the bed in the room they shared. It was a teenager’s room, with a vid screen on the wall next to posters of Nadia’s favorite bands. Clothes never seemed to find their way into the closet, instead finding new homes on the floor or draped over chairs. Music with a strong techno beat blared from the audio player. Shepard felt safe in this room, a feeling she hadn’t had in a long time.
“Of course I do,” Nadia said with a wink. “Now, you’ll be okay with just Aunt Yasmin?”
“I met her once,” she said, remembering the small party her foster parents threw in Shepard’s honor for her birthday. Shepard hadn’t expected them to make a fuss. They were letting her stay in their home, instead of the foster care facility. That was enough. For them to go out of their way to make her feel welcome…
I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want. If you’re looking for fluff, I can tell you I don’t have that. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my feels go now, that’ll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don’t, I will look for you, I will find you and I will make you feel ALL the Shakarian feels.
YOU ASK QUESTIONS LIKE THIS AND I RESPOND WITH FIC, ANON!
I had this mostly written in response to a kiss meme prompt, ‘eyelid kiss’ that servantofclio requested. Only 8 months late… Now seems like a perfect time to post it. *glares at anon*
Only a week ago they tangoed in the backyard.
Each movement slow and precise, designed to be easy on his hundred and forty-seven year old body. Afterward, they went to the bedroom, ready to continue the dance, but when his plates wouldn’t spread, they simply held each other and whispered sweet nothings instead. Even after a hundred and fifteen years, his voice still soothed her soul.
And the last thing she heard him say before falling asleep were the words, “I love you, Shepard.”
He didn’t wake the next morning.
A stroke, they told her. Massive. He’ll never wake, the doctors said. If he does, he won’t ever be the same.
The doctors wanted to take him to the hospital, but Shepard refused. They offered life-support machines that could be brought into their bedroom. She put her foot down. Garrus hated fighting in hospitals. She wouldn’t let him die in one.
The last week had been a flurry of vid calls to their children, grandchildren and even a few great grandchildren spread all over the galaxy. Every child they had raised made the journey and brought their families if they could. Friends flocked to the house she and Garrus called home for the last fifty years. One by one they came into the small bedroom and said their goodbyes.
And now it was time for Shepard to say goodbye. There wasn’t much time left, the doctors said. Family and friends all understood that his last moments belonged to her alone.
Shepard took Garrus’ hand - his talons dull, the knuckles swollen with age and arthritis - in hers. She could think of no words to say; she had already thanked him for every moment of their lives together with every look and every touch.
She didn’t like to think how long he’d be waiting in that bar without her. Those Cerberus mods were even better than advertised and Shepard barely looked one hundred. Doctors said she would easily reach two hundred and twenty-five, maybe even two hundred and fifty. But she wouldn’t think about the years stretching in front of her without Garrus by her side. Not now. He deserved better than that.
He’d find friends waiting for him at the bar at least: Victus, Tali and Vega. He’d have his squad back - Erash, Monteague, Mierin, Grundan Krul, Melanis, Ripper, Sensat, Vortash, Butler, Weaver - and she wouldn’t allow them to be forgotten.
His breathing slowed and Shepard held his hand and waited. She tried to remember the happy times, their date on the Presidium, the day they wed, the day they met each of their children for the first time.
Then he breathed in one last time and this time didn’t breath out. Once sure, Shepard stood up and placed her hand under his mandible. “I’ll always love you,” she whispered before leaning over, kissing his right eyelid, then his left, followed by his nose and his mouth plates.
Tears slid down her cheeks but she did not cry aloud. There would be plenty of time for that later. Now was the time for their family and friends. She straightened and thought of their legacy in the next room, of their children, now capable adults with families of their own. Shepard adored them all and felt her heart clench with love for Garrus and for their family. She might live the next one hundred years without Garrus, but their family would always be there.
And, she thought, as she squeezed his hand one last time before heading out to tell everyone the news, she would never be alone.