“EDI, take us up to the Commander’s Quarters, please.” Garrus all but whispered into the terminal, his mandibles flaring as EDI whispered back an affirmative, and the elevator started, intentionally going slow enough that the usually thumps and squeaks of the ship didn’t sound as loud as usual. The turian looked down, and pressed his mouth against the forehead of the redhead in his arms. She let out a cute little sigh at the contact, and nuzzled against his chest even deeper.
 
Spirits, she was so light, now. Months in and out of hospitals had taken away most of her muscle mass, the strength of his commander ceasing to be a duality of body and mind. Both of her legs and one arm were now missing, replaced by light prosthetics that weren’t what she would have gotten before the Reaper War. Instead, what she had seemed amateurish in their lack of complexity. It would be months before any prosthetics could bring her back to normalcy.
 
That itself was a great dampener of the morale that winning the war should have brought; he should have expected it, as he felt it too, but everything was now so boring. Gone were the days of constant fights and combat, survival by the skin of their teeth. Shepard was already this exhausted from just the task of walking down to Miranda’s old office for a video call with Liara.
 
Had it not been for him, he knew that she likely would have just wasted away, her tasks finally over, as she let herself fade back away as she should have nearly four years ago. The thought made his heart ache. She had always said there was no Shepard without Vakarian, but the inverse was just as (if not more) true. Hell, those years as Archangel he hadn’t been himself. Shepard was the person who truly brought him back from the edge.
 
As his mind trailed off with each and every thought, the elevator doors slowly opened, stopping just in time to avoid a tiny piece where the door would screech as it opened. Garrus sidled through and slowly curled up into her bed, the lightly snoring human nuzzling against his cowl as he himself relaxed.
 
He breathed in her scent, which still carried the undercurrent of ash and fire alongside her chestnut-sweetness, and let out a longing sigh, his heart assuaged from the fear the nights after the activation of the Crucible. It was only then that Shepard roused with a start, nearly yanking herself out of his arms in a panic, until she heard his subharmonics around her like radio static, and she let out a sigh of relief, nonetheless choked up.
 
“Bad dream?” He asked her, wincing as Shepard clung to him tighter.
 
“Just visions. Haven’t dreamed in years.” She admitted to him, and Garrus’ claws instinctively went up to run through her hair. “That fucking Marauder in front of the beam… He was one shot away from killing me right then and there.”
 
“You got him.” Garrus comforted.
 
“I miss the adrenaline. It feels so awful to say. I haven’t felt that alive in months.”
“I felt that until I remembered that I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” Garrus trilled, and that earned him a little noise from the human. “That made it all worth it. Every last sacrifice.” His claws traced the scars that covered her face in a direct mirror of his own, and he slowly leaned forward to kiss the still-sleepy human.
 
When he pulled away, there was still doubt on the commander’s face. “Are you sure you want to tie yourself down to me? I’m probably not going to get back to the way I was before, and-”
 
“Yes.” Garrus interrupted, reasserting that fact before Shepard could try to talk him out of it. “I would follow you anywhere, Jane.”
 
There was a moment of silence, and Garrus took it as a sign that he had truly moved her. That was, until a tiny whimper escaped her lips, and he caught the miniscule scent of her hot tears. Instantly he was upon her, letting out a calming subharmonic in her direction as he swaddled her in his arms like a living suit of armor. It may have been her Cerberus tech, scrounged from different species for the most palatable paragon possible, or perhaps just their years of time together, but she managed to match his subharmonics with a tone of her own. Again, she managed to catch the turian off guard with her understanding of his species.
 
“Garrus, I never want to leave you again.”
 
“You won’t have to.”
 
“But I don’t want to keep on like this.” She tried to move her prosthetic limbs, but the creations of steel and plastic were thick and clumsy. The redhead was mostly reliant on him to get her from place to place, phantom limbs and lingering nerve damage making it difficult to walk longer paths than to the bathroom and back. “I’m not made to be useless.”
 
“You’re not useless.” Garrus again insisted to her, his voice rising with passionate anger. “Fuck, Jane, you’ve done more for this goddamn galaxy than anyone!”
 
“And isn’t that enough?” She argued back, her voice suddenly sounding frail and tired. “I’ve been running on empty since Thessia.”
 
Garrus stared for a moment as he tried to puzzle out a response that wouldn’t come across as belittling. Finally, he settled on a stupid joke. “Fine. I haven’t been able to treat myself since shore leave on Omega before the Collector Base. I usually go for asari sluts, but I wouldn’t mind filling my gut up with a delicious, lovely, powerful human.” He gripped her hard, and decided to further the joke by extending his long, blue tongue and dragging it over her face, tracing over one of the deeper scars across her cheeks.
 
Despite that, Shepard didn’t bat him away as she usually did when he did that joke. Upon the start of their relationship, he had let her in on that turian secret, and true to her word she had kept it to herself, but her boyfriend’s teasing hunger had always only been an activity to enhance their raw, brutal fucks. Shepard was still too tender to indulge anything but loving, gentle lust now. Not that Garrus minded. Being able to cum inside of her still was more than enough for him.
 
Instead, she leaned into his tongue, a coy little smile on her face as she rubbed against it, the scent of his breath something she nearly huffed. Her remaining hand, soft and just as scarred as the rest of her, grabbed his and wrapped her fingers around his claws.
 
“And what if you did, big guy?” The exhaustion in her voice made her lustful tease sound more like a growl, a turian noise that instantly communicated intense things to his dick. HIs plates were already beginning to shift to expose it, and instantly Shepard knew it.
 
“Are you threatening me with a good time?” He snarled at her, slowly guiding her hand down to his lust-slicked cock.
 
“I’m not threatening you.” She pulled herself up, fighting through the exhaustion in order to match his passion. “I’m asking you a serious question. I’d be remiss if you didn’t answer it, Vakarian.”
 
Her lips crashed against his, and instantly he went back to holding her stable, guiding her body against his as she ground against him. He could smell her beginning to get wet, the scent awakening a predatory instinct that he immediately suppressed for her sake. Before, he would indulge it, and their sex would always be interspersed with a playful brawl, but he had gotten out of the war far luckier than she had, and for the first time he truly did have an advantage over her.
 
When she pulled away for a breath, his stomach rumbled loudly, and Shepard responded by moving her hand from his dick to his mouth. She crammed her fingers inside and rubbed them over his teeth, letting his tongue curl over her fingers and slurp her taste off of them.
 
In response to the sudden neglect of his throbbing length, he used a free hand to pull her shorts down around her knees, and instantly he was inside of her, drawing a moan as she stuffed her hand deeper down his gullet. She was so in love with him that she was wet on command, and thanks to Cerberus’ odd decision to reconstruct her with incredible sexual dexterity, she was more than capable of being stuffed with his fat shaft in a single thrust in spite of their differing biology.
 
“Oh, I’ve needed this.” Shepard panted out, her walls pulsing around his cock as she hugged it tight, her hips grinding against his to the best of her abilities. With a quick flex and a flare of her biotics, the leg prosthetics popped off to increase her flexibility. Not as though they were contributing anything to their session, anyways. Her thighs, which thankfully had been salvaged, did their best to wrap around him with their now-limited reach. She was thankfully flexible enough to make up for that, able to pull her arm free from his mouth and wrap it around his shoulder, clasping his cowl for added stability.
 
“Spirits, I can’t answer your question if you’re that eager to shove yourself down my throat commander.” His tone was knowing, dominating, and very nearly mocking.
 
“Then answer it now before I do it again, Vakarian.” She growled at him. She needed his help to ride his cock, his hands seizing her thighs and moving her up and down, slower and gentler than either of them would have liked, but nonetheless delightful.
 
“We’ll, in your current state I doubt you’d even get a hit in if I decided to claim you.” Out of sheer spite, she released her grip on his cowl and sucker punched him against the mandible, the loss of stability sending her leaning backwards until Garrus deftfully caught her.
 
“Wrong.” She laughed, and Garrus’ heart soared. It wasn’t a hard hit, more of a light tap flared with a very weak biotic charge, but it showed the playful spontaneity within her that had long been dormant within her.
 
“Alright, fine. I’m smart enough not to correct myself by saying that you couldn’t get two hits in.”
 
“Wanna bet?”
 
Garrus leaned forth, and pressed his mouth against her neck, his mouth opening as he just barely ghosted her skin with his teeth, the slightly curved incisors taking her breath away. “I could bite down and you wouldn’t be able to do anything.”
 
Shepard moaned, and her lack of a coherent quip told him everything he needed to know; she knew he was right, and it had her unravelling. He pulled them away, lapping at the tiny red marks he left there to soothe them, and instead moved to her shoulder. He laid a shallow claiming bite on her shoulder, which was already deeply pockmarked with similar proofs of ownership haphazardly cleaned with medi-gel and left to scar.
 
“But don’t try to distract me any further.” He whispered against her, subharmonics dripping with authority. “All it would take is five little swallows. Four if you really struggled, and you’d get to see a whole different part of me. Then, you could take an early retirement,”
 
“Early? Sounds way too fucking late for me, Archangel.”
 
“You know why I still let you call me that?” He snarled in her ear, matching the sultry tease with a careful clawed finger against her clit, tracing gentle circles around the nub. He had her too overloaded to respond, her teeth gritted as she tried to keep from screaming and proving his deftness at getting her off.
 
“I did some research into human customs and religions, and well, let me draw from a little quote that I thought was neat.” He loomed in even closer, his teeth grazing her earlobe as he let his voice melt into a dark snarl.
“I can be the beginning of who you really are, and I can end you just like that.” He clicked his tongue for emphasis.
 
Against all expectations, Shepard came with a shriek, her body spasming against him as her cunt clamped down even tighter against him, squirting past his cock and soaking part of the bed in her delight. She let out a strained groan as she leaned against him, relying on him entirely to support her. Despite the visible energy that the orgasm sapped from her, she was proving that her endurance wasn’t all gone, and she strained to keep going with him. She still hugged his cock tight, letting out desperate little noises as she silently pleaded with him to keep going.
 
Garrus had barely kept himself from cumming then and there, but he held out due to a sudden impulse. Shepard was surprisingly compliant and turned on by what were usually annoying teases. For as much as he loved her, that love was tainted by a very turian instinct to show dominance over her, however possible. The more permanent, the better.
 
“Well, I haven’t ever seen you get so worked up at becoming turian shit before, Jane. Is there something that you want to tell me? Maybe something you’d like to beg me for?”
 
“Fuck… you…” Shepard panted out, a little smirk escaping her as she again pushed her own limits. It was clear that they were in a different type of fighting than the usual ones that interspersed their intercourse. This was one more fitting to Shepard’s usual style, conversational and seeking to best him with logic. She was making a mistake, he thought, sparring with his strategic mind. After all, he had been the one to hold the line for her time and time again while she took on the big guys, but without his leadership she’d have been flanked every time.
 
“Well, we’re currently doing that.” He quipped back at her, playfully punctuating his tone by grabbing her and suddenly thrusting ruthlessly, the momentary increase in stimulation slamming against her special spot and pushing her right back to the edge. “But there is a price, you know. Turians do get awful peckish after sex. And I don’t think you’re at the level to run down and grab me a dextro supplement. With all of your modifications you might as well be one.”
 
When Shepard didn’t argue against his examination, he knew that it was another point in his favor. He leaned forward to plant a loving kiss against her lips, though it rapidly became something more depraved. His tongue extended outwards and shoved itself down her throat, forcing her to worship it in earnest.
 
Spirits, the taste of her was all-encompassing and perfect for him.
 
It was only once he felt her breathing speed up with panic that he withdrew.
 
“It sounds to me, Jane, like I’m your commander now. After all, aren’t you going to retire? I’m your second-in-command. You know it would do wonders for my military career.” There it was. Beyond her latent preyish desires, Garrus had hit her right where it would hurt. Her all-loving nature was going to push her over the edge and right down his throat.
“You’re right about that.” She replied, voice quiet and accepting. Then, the fight reawoke within her. “What’s your first order to me, then, Commander Vakarian?”
 
“Cum one last time, and then crawl down my throat.” He sped up his thrusts again, and as Jane’s mind melted away in favor of the fucking he reached up, and unclasped her prosthetic arm, rendering her body only flesh. He grabbed her remaining hand and pressed it against his gut, leaving her to continue screaming as he rode her brutally, his cock slamming hard against her spot as his nuts fell free just to slap against her lower lips.
 
“You still exist because I allow it.” He purred at her, voice sweet but dripping with renegade persuasion. “And you will give yourself up because I demand it, Jane.”
 
The addition of her name was just what she needed, and she came again, kicking off a domino effect that pushed him past his own edge. He roared as he fired off thick spurts of baby batter into the human, the spunk filling her up and drooling out past his cock. With that, Shepard reached up and willingly pressed her hand against his tongue, massaging it with her palm and letting his taste buds slurp over her skin. He was already intensely salivating at that slight taste of her.
 
However, despite her obvious prodding, Garrus refused to swallow. Instead, he rode out every last bit of the orgasm, and waited for both of them to recover. He could see the exhaustion returning to his lover’s eyes, the redhead’s state catching up with her at last. It was only when she finally stared up at him with pleading eyes that he finally gave in, trying to hide the surge of excitement that was undoubtedly present in his flaring mandibles.
 
“You want me to do this.” He said, voice still unable to shake the disbelief. “There’s no going back. I need you to understand that.”
 
Shepard grinned. “You’re such a dork, Vakarian. You’ve got me right where you want me, and you’re still asking for consent. You’re a model to your species.” There it was, that last little teasing edge.
 
“I’m going to send you into my stomach, and shit you out in the Normandy toilets.” He said, trying to keep his voice matter-of-fact. Regardless, the growl was still in his voice, subharmonics conveying intense excitement. “Might as well drop you off into the women’s bathroom just in case someone gets nosy.”
 
“Lieutenant Commander Vakarian, the men’s restroom is on the port side of the ship.” There was a processing pause. “Excuse me, Commanding Officer Vakarian.”
 
There was an uncomfortable pause as Shepard let out a laugh via a low snort, her face ruby-red from the intrusion. EDI cleared her throat and pierced the silence. “I did not mean to intrude. Please do not worry. I am heavily encrypted the data of this event, and I have blacklisted Mr. Moreau from even seeing the file in the database. I will attempt to tune myself out of this room with white noise.”
 
The speaker suddenly radiated a thick, sludgy static, and Garrus steeled himself.
 
“I think she was messing with us.” Shepard whispered conspiratorially, and the deep commitment underlying their exchange melted away into something far lighter. The two shared a laugh at the event, the break in the seriousness of their affair much-needed. However, the conversation again melted into silence, and it was then up to Garrus to push them back into the deeper subject matter.
 
“Back to it.” He crooned at her, his tongue still rolling over her hand like a lollipop. “Let me hear you ask for it, and we’ll do this.”
 
“Part of being a Commanding Officer is ordering your subordinates to do what you want. Start that now.” She rebutted, a little smile on her face. That was difficult for the turian, who was far too used to taking orders from the redhead rather than giving them, and his bravado faded slightly as he tried to work up the courage to do it.
 
“Jane… You’re going to take a trip down into my stomach and stand-by for processing.” He finally got out, his voice dripping with uncertainty. He was tempted to add a tiny awareness that it was only if she wanted to, but he wisely stopped himself. As she pressed her hand deeper into his maw, Garrus let his predatory instinct reemerge.
 
“Soldier, it is my order that you take your retirement early.”
 
“Yes, commander.” Shepard said, leaning forward to plant a sleepy kiss on his mandible; but the turian was finally of the mindset to take what he wanted. Instead, the moment that her lips made contact with the appendage, it flared outward, and what soon craned to be in its original place was Garrus’ dripping maw, his tongue wrapped around her arm like a piece of haphazard equipment, and tugged her forward. His greedy hands groped over her breasts, and his claws tore through her oversized N7 sweatshirt without issue, returning her to a state of bareness. He ran his fingers over the scars that marked her chest, both battle scars and the scars of recovery, and instantly he knew that he had done something right.
 
The taste of his lover made his heart sing, and instantly Garrus knew that he had made a mistake in indulging his pre-war habits solely with asari. She was spicy, and sweet, and savory like a fine turian brandy, in all the ways that set him aflame. He was hesitant to swallow just from the fact that it meant one step closer to only tasting her via belches. Despite that, he let his mouth close around her head, his teeth pressing against her just enough to show his alien authority, before he released her arm and swallowed, trapping it in an even tight chamber. The sapphire-blues of his insides were replaced with muted navy as her head was pulled down further towards the back of his throat, slowly angled downwards to make her final descent.
 
With her one remaining limb already claimed, the hero of the Reaper War simply didn’t have any fight to put up. Garrus was able to take down more than half of her in a single swallow, the pressure compacting her body into his tight throat. The soft flesh that surrounded her rolled over her, a soothing massage in spite of its implications, and finally the battle-scarred soldier took her much-deserved sleep. He could feel her breath evening out inside of his gullet, and he took extra precautions to devour her in a way that didn’t rouse her again.
 
His hands cupped her fat ass cheeks, and he groped them firmly, careful to avoid scuffing her with his claws. He copped a few final feels as her breasts laid upon his tongue, the soft flesh quivering with every lick, before taking in a deep breath and pressing her in, a second swallow burying her up to her ass. Her pussy drooled out the products of their love onto his tongue, the taste of Shepard greatly enhanced by his own special sauce; Garrus usually wasn’t the type to indulge something like that, but in this case he lovingly made an exception, finding his own additions to her flavor just as important to the total experience as she was.
 
He was so tempted to get her off against his mouth one last time, but the turian decided that it was better to let her rest. Closing his eyes, and committing every last bit of her to memory- the sight of her (before the Crucible had taken its pound of flesh from her), her smell, her flavor, her voice... everything- he swallowed, and sent the rest of her down. His throat, perhaps reflecting his desire to ease her descent, hugged her tight enough that she didn’t immediately tumble down into his stomach. Instead, his warm insides slowly relaxed to send her down inch by inch, until at last she was lightly set inside of his gastric sack, her sleep unperturbed.
 
Garrus himself felt the instant weight of the woman inside of him, dragging her down into a food coma as well; one last time, he would follow her lead before taking full control. He placed a hand on his gut, and gave it a few massages as he reclined backwards in the bed, and closed his eyes, subharmonics simply unable to quiet their purring.
 
His cock retreated back into place beneath his plates as he dozed off, hand brushing over the imprint of the human in his gut even as he slept.
 
Garrus had intended to be merciful with her, gentle even, but his body had no such reservations. Already, it was getting to work proving turian supremacy, marinating the redhead’s skin and softening her up, grinding against her and working to reduce her to slop.
 
Had she been at full strength, it would have taken nearly a week to break her down, her muscles and fighting spirit putting up a perfect fight against his body. In her current state, as weak as she still was and as little of her as there was, she would be lucky to last a full day.
 
Over the course of their sleep, Shepard’s remaining arm melted away, leaving her little more than a glorified fuckdoll inside of his gut. How Garrus would have loved to keep her that way, but it wasn’t befitting the honor that her career deserved. As she was eaten away, her remaining cybernetics fused to Garrus’ gut, their prerogatives reprogrammed by the powerful stomach acid. Instead, they reinforced his gut and sought to strengthen it, turning tables that were already turned. Her bones weren’t even able to withstand the onslaught, breaking away into splinters and softened into jelly.
 
When Garrus awoke, the hand on his gut was pressed inward, and he initially thought that his lover had already succumbed. He pressed against her, letting out a sigh of relief when he could still feel her breathing inside of him. It wasn’t enough to change his mind, of course. But he wanted to talk to her one more time.
 
“Jane? Wake up for a second, darling.” He purred, his voice rumbling down into his gastric sack from above. She roused with a little noise, her body laid against his stomach wall. Each rolling motion threatened to knock her into the boiling soup and claim her entirely, and there was nothing that the commander could have done to stop it. When that happened, she was done, and the thought was strangely relieving. It was empowering to have her fate so callously placed in the hands of her lover despite the lingering brutality of such a fate.
 
“G-Garrus?” She whined out, her voice hoarse from the aerated stomach acids. She nearly sounded turian, voice echoing through his gut and giving him a moment of pause. “I’m ready for this.” She said, voice confident. “Are you willing to hear one last request from me?”
 
“Of course.”
 
“Don’t shit me out… in the ship toilets… I want you to dump me on Palaven.”
 
Garrus blinked, and the tongue-in-cheek response in his mouth evaporated. He stared down at his gut. Jane didn’t have to say anything more. He understood perfectly why she wanted it. It was one final submission to him, a final remark of her fate succumbing to a turian. High-ranking officers were always laid to rest on the turian homeworld. It was an acknowledgement that once she passed through him, she would be turian by her very nature, even if her fate were dirty and unsuited for a woman of her stature.
 
Against all odds, his cock stirred from the thought.
 
“Of course, Jane. I love you so much.” He purred, hand on his stomach. But there was no response. In the interim of her request and his processing, she had tumbled forth, splashing into his stomach acids and setting them aflame with intense consumption. She simply tumbled back into sleep as the exhaustion took over, the cybernetics made to convey pain long-since burned away. There was nothing but peace for the commander as she settled into her retirement, her soft body proving no match for turian digestion. A thick belch rose up, and Garrus was granted one final taste of the redhead. Instantly, he knew, and accepted it with an odd mix of emotions, a keening whine that slowly developed into an avowed smugness.
 
Spirits, he could still feel her, hear her within him. But it was the real her, not the husk that had been pulled from the wreckage of London. His gut had cleansed her, freed her from her mortal shell and taken up residence with him. Her legacy lay with him, and there was no way that he could go a day without thinking of her again. There was no Vakarian without Shepard, and she had made that even more clear in her final act of sacrifice on his behalf.
 
“EDI. Plot a course for Palaven.”
 
“Plotting a course, Commander Vakarian.” She quipped, before leaving the turian to marinate in his new quarters. He closed his eyes, and drifted off again, leaving his body to do the heavy lifting.
 
As he slept, she drained down into his intestines, slowly contributing the rest of herself to him in a singular act of synthesis. Slowly, she ensured that Garrus would not be able to forget her. Turians were often very limber, but she contributed to him in a way that would impact his reach; she added deposits of fat on his stomach and pecs, giving the turian a pot-belly rare for his species. His bony ass filled out with padding, developing in a way that actually made it soft and pliable, as did his thighs, to the point that there were clear gaps between his armor plating. The commander was entirely slushed, and siphoned dry by Garrus’ colon, until at last she solidified back into fibrous logs.
 
“Good morning, Commander.” EDI chimed, an old earth song playing to rouse him. “ETA for our arrival to Palaven is six hours.”
 
Garrus pulled himself up, and instantly noticed the pockets of weight that the redhead had added to him. Rising to his feet, he hefted up his gut and gave it a few shakes, head tilting curiously at the softness of his stomach. It seemed that Jane had made him a little less turian, which he had thought impossible. He allowed himself a good chuckle as he patted his gut.
 
“Damnit, Shepard, had to get one last laugh.” He grumbled in mock-indignation. He found with delight that he was able to sit in her chair without discomfort, his human-padded ass proving a great asset to his day-to-day life. He leaned forward and logged into her laptop, spending the first couple of hours of his new day rewriting all of her data so that it was his, another form of absorbing every part of her into himself. He sent out a few informative emails to those within the loop, letting them know what the commander had insisted upon.
 
To make things more interesting, he noticed that she had a saved document addressed to him, as well as a mass-email to crewmates informing them of her fate. The turian allowed himself a wry smile; it seemed that Shepard had been ruminating on this turn of events since before the Omega Relay, if not actively working to engineer it. He clicked the send button on him, but refused to open her letter for him. Correctly assuming that it was intended to be read after her digestion, he forwarded it to himself, and archived it. It was to be read once he was done with her entirely.
 
He spent the rest of that time lounging in her chair, watching her fish float about, ignorant to the fate of their original owner. He could feel her demanding to be released out of his backside already, but Garrus wasn’t going to deny her last request even if the commander was hard-headed enough to try and recall her own demand. She had insisted that he take charge, and this was the first instance he was really going to do that over her. He patted his gut gently, promising that she would get her way once he allowed it, but not before.
 
As he played with her additions, and massaged his cock once the thought of her brought him back to mast, EDI suddenly interrupted him.
 
“Now beginning the landing process on Palaven.”
 
That was all that Garrus needed to cum on his stomach, staining Shepard’s best parts with another load of spunk. As he softened, the turian couldn’t keep the warm grin off of his face. This was everything he had been dreaming about, and more.
 
The walk off of the ship was not one of sorrow, nor longing, but pride and undying love.