Since Tumblr begun hating linked posts, I decided to make a repost of this thing for the navigation post I'm planning to do.
CHAINED
Fandom: Mass Effect
Relationships: Garrus Vakarian/Female Shepard
Genre: Romance
Timeline: Mid-ME3
Author's notes: Part of upcoming "Larien Shepard" series
Sometimes it startles him how fast alien aesthetics has settled in his life with one very special woman. It is truly incredible - to have a close glimpse at Shepard anytime, to enjoy her soft features, staring at her shamelessly long and earning a small smile from her because she lifted her head from her datapad and noticed his gaze. Garrus didn't even realize how much he missed her smile until it was her greeting to him on Menae: a smile full of heart, with tension and worry previously engraved in Shepard's features but now melting into relief. And damn if it wasn't the most beautiful thing to see on that Spirits-forgotten moon. Since the beginning of the war Garrus was one of the few people in the Universe burdened with knowledge of their true chances against the Reapers, but he held his humble, almost atheistic prayers and there had always been a place for Shepard... And then somehow she was there beside him, alive, composed, determined, to help to protect a part of his own world.
The living, distinctive and warning red of her hair was the weirdest thing to see on Palaven's satellite - a shade out of place, but so very needed. The unbroken passion in her actions was more encouraging than any news; Garrus hoped his comrades listened to him when he was speaking of her once as both hope and a cleansing flame. And then she had proven his words in front of them, storming through Reaper forces and finding a new Primarch for a deal no one had made before. Always incredible, she came back into Garrus's life, and the weight of the war eased for a bit from his shoulders. Not only because it was the world's Commander Shepard, but also because it was his Shepard, his Larien, once a hole in his heart, now healed.
Like three years ago, like now Garrus wonders about those fiery strands that frame Shepard's face - very gentle and supple, if you take one and try to bend it in your fingers, but also stubborn enough to stick to the sides if Shepard hasn't had the time to brush them properly after washing. Not that Garrus doesn't like her hair in its ordinary neat shape, but when it is sticking to the sides, it gives him sweet flashbacks of their first night together when Shepard's hair was wet from the shower she took - it gave her the most heartmeltingly frail look Garrus could ever imagine. Her hair also gets adorably messy after every shore mission because of the static electricity from biotics, having given Shepard a habit of unconsciously running through it with her fingers every now and then. Front strands curl on the ends just below her jawbone because Shepard tucks them sometimes behind her ears: when Garrus saw her at his base, her hair was longer than he remembered, and she kept it that way even though now it tends to get before her eyes even more often, needing to be put out of the way. Garrus thinks it'd be a shame for it to be cut off to it's old shortness - he has grown to love it: the texture to touch, the way it flows through his fingers when he can't help but to gently rub it while Shepard is sleeping in his embrace, the copper hues his eyes feast upon, shining red or brown depending on lighting, and even the sharp, salty scent of ozone, lingering on her hair after her biotic attacks.
His affection for Shepard's appearance is so non-Turian that some would call him a pervert. Garrus doesn't care: he becomes drunk on the dark green of her eyes, on the tiny lines appearing between her eyebrows when Shepard's frowning, on the scent of her skin - sweet warmth and flowery soap - and on those weird human kisses that in Shepard's adaptation have become a thing for him to enjoy too. His timid happiness in all this war-brought mess lives in a proper, shamelessly posessive touch to her firm and strong waist with tight muscles tangible under her smooth skin. In that hold of him it seems that Shepard is safe, protected from the crap she deals with every day, and that she'll never vanish from him ever again, even with all the odds of this devastating war. He wants to hope she won't and his heart painfully twitches at a mere thought of that possibility when she gets hurt on the field.
Shepard had once seemed incredibly soft and fragile to him, especially after he had lost her once and never could even hope to see again; fragile even with all the knowledge of this woman's strength Garrus had had earlier. Not only Shepard went through death and revival - the events of that cursed year of 2185 seemed to kill and revive him too, leaving them both devastated and clinging onto each other. Before he dared to come to her cabin, Garrus was both longing and worried about how "them" is really going to work - from all the laws of nature, he seemed to be far from a perfect choice for her. It was Shepard who got to decide, to end their awkward dancing around and get his infatuation with her to a logical and very desirable conclusion. Because, as it turned out, Shepard's yearning for him had a physical side too. That didn't help to feel less awkward at starting a cross-species liaison, but at least he was not alone there, hesitating and still willing to cross the line.
Then Garrus had learnt she wasn't that soft - when she held his hips between her taut thighs and kissed him hungrily with her pliant human lips like the sharpness of his mouth plates meant nothing to her, and when she was panting for breath and pressing herself into him much more than it seemed safe considering all his body plating, when her every move with him was a sign of pleasure and gratitude, and a plea for more. Garrus was taking what Shepard was giving, and enjoyed, and figured that their recently obtained fondness of each other was a perfectly organic match.
And to hell with biology differences, when she stretches in the bed beside him, a small but strong woman in the best of her grace, with her eyes gleaming of delight and looking at Garrus with affection that makes his heart clench. To hell with everything, when he grabs her at her round hip and she responds with a pleasured exhale and a smile if Garrus makes her feel his claws, when Shepard caresses his neck with her kisses the way it drives him mad, when her hand nudges his cheek and he feels the tenderness of this touch not with his face plates, but with his heart. Everything about Shepard is a turn-on, and by the way her gaze fills with longing when their talks turn to a naughty route, Garrus suspects he is that for her too.
He's positively sure that the nature has made them both for each other.
And he's grateful to his life for having led him Shepard's way.
Sometimes it startles him how fast alien aesthetics has settled in his life with one very special woman. It is truly incredible - to have a close glimpse at Shepard anytime, to enjoy her soft features, staring at her shamelessly long and earning a small smile from her because she lifted her head from her datapad and noticed his gaze. Garrus didn't even realize how much he missed her smile until it was her greeting to him on Menae: a smile full of heart, with tension and worry previously engraved in Shepard's features but now melting into relief. And damn if it wasn't the most beautiful thing to see on that Spirits-forgotten moon. Since the beginning of the war Garrus was one of the few people in the Universe burdened with knowledge of their true chances against the Reapers, but he held his humble, almost atheistic prayers and there had always been a place for Shepard... And then somehow she was there beside him, alive, composed, determined, to help to protect a part of his own world.
The living, distinctive and warning red of her hair was the weirdest thing to see on Palaven's satellite - a shade out of place, but so very needed. The unbroken passion in her actions was more encouraging than any news; Garrus hoped his comrades listened to him when he was speaking of her once as both hope and a cleansing flame. And then she had proven his words in front of them, storming through Reaper forces and finding a new Primarch for a deal no one had made before. Always incredible, she came back into Garrus's life, and the weight of the war eased for a bit from his shoulders. Not only because it was the world's Commander Shepard, but also because it was his Shepard, his Larien, once a hole in his heart, now healed.
Like three years ago, like now Garrus wonders about those fiery strands that frame Shepard's face - very gentle and supple, if you take one and try to bend it in your fingers, but also stubborn enough to stick to the sides if Shepard hasn't had the time to brush them properly after washing. Not that Garrus doesn't like her hair in its ordinary neat shape, but when it is sticking to the sides, it gives him sweet flashbacks of their first night together when Shepard's hair was wet from the shower she took - it gave her the most heartmeltingly frail look Garrus could ever imagine. Her hair also gets adorably messy after every shore mission because of the static electricity from biotics, having given Shepard a habit of unconsciously running through it with her fingers every now and then. Front strands curl on the ends just below her jawbone because Shepard tucks them sometimes behind her ears: when Garrus saw her at his base, her hair was longer than he remembered, and she kept it that way even though now it tends to get before her eyes even more often, needing to be put out of the way. Garrus thinks it'd be a shame for it to be cut off to it's old shortness - he has grown to love it: the texture to touch, the way it flows through his fingers when he can't help but to gently rub it while Shepard is sleeping in his embrace, the copper hues his eyes feast upon, shining red or brown depending on lighting, and even the sharp, salty scent of ozone, lingering on her hair after her biotic attacks.
His affection for Shepard's appearance is so non-Turian that some would call him a pervert. Garrus doesn't care: he becomes drunk on the dark green of her eyes, on the tiny lines appearing between her eyebrows when Shepard's frowning, on the scent of her skin - sweet warmth and flowery soap - and on those weird human kisses that in Shepard's adaptation have become a thing for him to enjoy too. His timid happiness in all this war-brought mess lives in a proper, shamelessly posessive touch to her firm and strong waist with tight muscles tangible under her smooth skin. In that hold of him it seems that Shepard is safe, protected from the crap she deals with every day, and that she'll never vanish from him ever again, even with all the odds of this devastating war. He wants to hope she won't and his heart painfully twitches at a mere thought of that possibility when she gets hurt on the field.
Shepard had once seemed incredibly soft and fragile to him, especially after he had lost her once and never could even hope to see again; fragile even with all the knowledge of this woman's strength Garrus had had earlier. Not only Shepard went through death and revival - the events of that cursed year of 2185 seemed to kill and revive him too, leaving them both devastated and clinging onto each other. Before he dared to come to her cabin, Garrus was both longing and worried about how "them" is really going to work - from all the laws of nature, he seemed to be far from a perfect choice for her. It was Shepard who got to decide, to end their awkward dancing around and get his infatuation with her to a logical and very desirable conclusion. Because, as it turned out, Shepard's yearning for him had a physical side too. That didn't help to feel less awkward at starting a cross-species liaison, but at least he was not alone there, hesitating and still willing to cross the line.
Then Garrus had learnt she wasn't that soft - when she held his hips between her taut thighs and kissed him hungrily with her pliant human lips like the sharpness of his mouth plates meant nothing to her, and when she was panting for breath and pressing herself into him much more than it seemed safe considering all his body plating, when her every move with him was a sign of pleasure and gratitude, and a plea for more. Garrus was taking what Shepard was giving, and enjoyed, and figured that their recently obtained fondness of each other was a perfectly organic match.
And to hell with biology differences, when she stretches in the bed beside him, a small but strong woman in the best of her grace, with her eyes gleaming of delight and looking at Garrus with affection that makes his heart clench. To hell with everything, when he grabs her at her round hip and she responds with a pleasured exhale and a smile if Garrus makes her feel his claws, when Shepard caresses his neck with her kisses the way it drives him mad, when her hand nudges his cheek and he feels the tenderness of this touch not with his face plates, but with his heart. Everything about Shepard is a turn-on, and by the way her gaze fills with longing when their talks turn to a naughty route, Garrus suspects he is that for her too.
He's positively sure that the nature has made them both for each other.
And he's grateful to his life for having led him Shepard's way.
She always excited him as a Commander, a leader, and as a person. But now, when he finally touches her hand without a glove, Garrus is amazed how soft her skin actually feels. With this touch her hands seem much more tender than he imagined, with her skin whitening on knuckles when it is being tensed there and almost transparent in some places so the blue threads of veins are showing. And the soft curves of muscles on Shepard's upper arms, half-hidden under her uniform, add to the overall impression. Garrus has seen how easily she can smash things on the battlefield either with her biotics or in hand-to-hand combat she sometimes hotheadedly dives in, he saw Shepard headbutting a Krogan and missed her fighting with a Yahg who was two times higher than she is and thrice heavier. How come her astonishing power is hidden in such a tender body?
She is a miracle - as a person, as a Commander, as a woman; Garrus feasts his eyes on her, not quite believing it's actually happening.
"If it's a dream, - he thinks, - may it never end", - and in a moment he feels other Shepard's hand touches the side of his neck in a gentle stroke - a very soft, comforting touch, not implying but suggesting. And then he misses the moment before Shepard is almost merged in the front side of his cowl, encircling his neck with his hands, and her lips are gently pressed to his mouth plates.
"The keeper". A WIP that was waiting for me get back to it for about a month. I had to redraw sketch to a new piece of paper, because unreferenced sketching process is always hard to me and I ruin paper with looots of erasing. Probably I'll spoil this drawing with coloring, but still - I want to give it final look and only a colouring practice will take me to my goal, at least partly. If I'm afraid to try new things, if fear of failure stops me - I won't be able to progress, so I have to boldly go forward)
@renegadeass has dared me to do a couples meme prompt (which I won’t be able to find in my Tumblr because of massive reposting, lol).
#4, Reunion kiss. ME3, referring to that first scene in Main Battery.
I wanted to do some background there, but I’m not in work-hard-mood in last 1.5 weeks due to some health issues, so… maybe I’ll make some fixes or redrawing later. It’s fine for now.
//Re-upload of previous post with better quality//
She always excited him as a Commander, a leader, and as a person. But now, when he finally touches her hand without a glove, Garrus is amazed how soft her skin actually feels. With this touch her hands seem much more tender than he imagined, with her skin whitening on knuckles when it is being tensed there and almost transparent in some places so the blue threads of veins are showing. And the soft curves of muscles on Shepard’s upper arms, half-hidden under her uniform, add to the overall impression. Garrus has seen how easily she can smash things on the battlefield either with her biotics or in hand-to-hand combat she sometimes hotheadedly dives in, he saw Shepard headbutting a Krogan and missed her fighting with a Yahg who was two times higher than she is and thrice heavier. How come her astonishing power is hidden in such a tender body?
She is a miracle - as a person, as a Commander, as a woman; Garrus feasts his eyes on her, not quite believing it’s actually happening.
“If it’s a dream, - he thinks, - may it never end”, - and in a moment he feels other Shepard’s hand touches the side of his neck in a gentle stroke - a very soft, comforting touch, not implying but suggesting. And then he misses the moment before Shepard is almost merged in the front side of his cowl, encircling his neck with his hands, and her lips are gently pressed to his mouth plates.
Gorgeous lady ♥♥♥ When I was looking for references of my Shep for @atarial's giveaway, I opened my screenshot folder... and got out of it only three hours later, full of love to my dear girl Larien ♥♥♥
When she's frowning like on screenshots 2, 4 and 5, she reminds me an angry owl XD
