#jen shepard

[drumsandwaves]

Some post Omega-4 relay Shakarian content, just because

[...]

“Garrus is requesting entry to your cabin, Commander.”

Her hands stopped moving on the cover, and she folded both in her lap.

“Thanks, EDI. Let him in.”

She wasn’t sure why she had expected him to show up in his armor, caked with Collectors blood as it was, but somehow she was surprised to see him in his informal civvies. He walked over to the bed in silence and sat beside her. He looked about as tired as she felt.

“Uh.” He was staring at the floor. “I really thought this time was gonna be the one.”

“Yeah. You and me both.”

Stillness settled into the cabin, both of them breathing in silence. Further up, Shepard’s fish swam placidly in the tank, and she started following the ever-soothing path of her Prejek Paddle.

Honestly, what a great way to spend both her borrowed time and the Illusive Man’s money. When he had ordered scientists to bully life back into Commander Shepard of the Alliance Navy, the first human Spectre, he probably hadn’t expected she would use that life to gleefully spend his credits on exotic fish and space hamsters. To be fair, he probably also hadn’t expected she’d go rogue, or that she’d turn the Normandy’s entire crew against him, his own loyal employees included.

Actually, thinking about it, Shepard wasn’t sure what he had expected. Maybe that she’d die in a blaze of glory, defeating the Collectors and helpfully removing herself from the equation before she could create any problems.

Too bad, she thought as her fish did a flip in the middle of the tank. Dying for the cause is so 2183.

“Hey, maybe you’re my lucky charm.”

Garrus turned to look at her, puzzled.

“I mean, think about it—I’ve never died when you were around. Which is more than I can say for… uh. Well, a number of people.”

She usually prided herself on having become quite good at reading turian expressions, but she wasn’t sure what Garrus was doing with his face right then. He seemed stuck somewhere between a grimace and reluctant amusement, somehow.

“Shepard,” he drawled in the end, shaking his head. “We just did something verifiably insane and lived to tell the tale. Could we leave the trip down memory lane for another time?” His tone turned as dry as his stare. “Not that I don’t love reminiscing about the good old days of your demise.”

[smolbiotic]

That feel when you decide to write a series of 3.5 shorts about your Colonist Shepard and the first takes place in Mindoir. When she’s sixteen.

[poeticsandaliens]

lmao okay first off I am absolutely delighted to see someone else loving jenny as much as I do, and second off all my absolute favorite character to ship her with is kate and. dont ask me why I know it's completely ridiculous given that they never met but I need these badasses together 😂 (I still love jenny and ziva together too of course but I loved kate so much ahh) okay this is so incoherent but I just wanted to tell you that and I also absolutely love your writing ❣💌🥰

Thank you so much! I have something in the works, and I’m excited to write Kate for the first time!

It’s been too long since I’ve written, and Jenny seems to be my pair of literary wings at the moment. Its fine. Im fine. I’m not in love with her. I totally didn’t steal her for my fantasy epic and ship her with a fire breathing bronze-handed warrior chief who looks too much like Cate Blanchett. I’m sane I promise.

[drumsandwaves]

Wip Wednesday: Garrus and banshees

The Ardat-Yakshi monastery is quite possibly one of the worst things Garrus has ever witnessed, and that’s coming from an ex-vigilante on Omega who saw the almost entirety of his squad get decimated. The nagging feeling of impending doom starts pretty strong with the corpses lying all around, but as soon as they make their way further into the empty halls they find banshees, and if that still isn’t the most horrifying Reaper creation they are ever going to find on the field, then he’s ready to quit. At this point he’s scared of precious few things, but a corrupted Ardat-Yakshi closing in with biotic teleportation while he tries to snipe at it ranks pretty damn high on his scale of nightmares. They are not ready for it when they encounter the first one—and really, can anyone ever be ready for something like that—so it takes them by surprise, and there’s a moment when he swears the banshee is a second, a moment away from grabbing Shepard and impaling her with her claws, and there’s a scream rising in his chest to rival that damn banshee’s wails— —until Shepard herself becomes a blur and goes nova right in front of it, staggering it and rolling away after firing a shotgun blast at point-blank range. Spirits, but he loves that woman.

Thank you @malewifezevran for tagging me once again, I love this Wednesday creative exchange <3 I'm working on a rather angsty Shakarian thing right now, so I thought I'd try to pick a moment with at least some warm feelings! I typed this whole section just this evening, so this is definitely very much a work in progress 😅 I think I remember @tnuthan saying something last week about having some stuff but not being sure when to publish? because 👀👀 if you've published it already and i've missed it please redirect me to it! i'm also sending a quick tag to @a-cosmic-elf, in case you're working on anything? :)

[drumsandwaves]

Wip Wednesday (on Thursday, because Garrus the Turian rebel is in the house)

She does it after Tuchanka for the first time. They are standing in the war room, finalizing details about the deployment of krogan troops to Palaven, discussing plans for the Crucible—cementing a triple alliance that would have seemed impossible only months before. Shepard is all duty, armor quickly traded for the dress blues of the Alliance she rarely wears, a steady grip around the Primarch’s hand when they shake on their promise of collaboration. Her face is neutral, if cordial, her voice steady. But her neck is stained with dried blood just above the collar, and there’s still white dust in her hair from the debris falling around her. When Primarch Victus leaves, she leans over the terminal, and there’s a twitch in her right arm she can’t quite hide. She keeps fiddling with the commands, reading reports and updates on their assets, but she is visibly exhausted, the shadow under her eyes darker than the day before. When he brings it up, she doesn’t even look at him. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead”.

thank you @malewifezevran for the lovely tag! i can't draw to save my life lately, but having just finished ME3 i have an inordinate amount of feelings about Shepard and Garrus, most of them soaked in angst, so i thought some Turian rebel introspection might work for a late wip wednesday!

i have no idea if she's working on anything right now, but just in case i'm dropping a little late tag in the direction of @tnuthan... no pressure but hey you never know 👀

[poeticsandaliens]

woke up this morning to discover that someone had found everything I wrote about NCIS during the two months I was living on a tiny island working in marine science and being chased by territorial owls.

welcome. I used to think one day I would shut up but I haven’t yet.

[poeticsandaliens]

The best and worst thing about your favorite character being dead after three years of canon is the really limited amount of writing you have of them.

On one hand, There’s not a lot of material to watch. On the other hand, you get a hell of a lot more leeway for making shit up, because canon didn’t cover any of its bases.

[cyberii]

...Shepard can’t dance. But she can drink.