v. conceal or disguise one’s thoughts, feelings, or character
It’s fascinating how many things a person can feel at once.
Irrational anger. Where have you been? You could have been hurt. I know you’re hard to kill, but this is a galactic apocalypse, a little more dangerous than the regular bullets.
Empathy. You look like hell. Understandable, considering where we are and what’s going on. When was the last time you slept? Or ate?
Joy. You’re alive. You’re here. You’re real. I missed you.
So many feelings to compress and hide behind a soldier’s mask. A combat zone filled with strangers is not the place for a romantic reunion. Only glimpses of emotion slip through the facade. A tight grip of the hand, low and soft rumble, the briefest smile. Promises of later.
Later we will set aside our masks and talk.
breathing you in when I want you out
finding our truth in a hope of doubt
lying inside our quiet drama [x]
Can you imagine Garrus doing all that research before his first night with Shepard?
He finds somewhere more private than the main battery and scours the Extranet, first looking for “human courtship rituals” and finding a bunch of incomprehensible scientific journals by Salarians, then giving up on pretense and searching for “turian” plus “human” plus “intercourse.”
Minus “arguments against.”
Minus “gross,” “disgusting,” and “immoral.”
Three viruses later, he goes to EDI for help, who finds him six thousand, four hundred and twenty nine vids, narrowing it down to two thousand and three after specifying “male turian” and “female human.”
Joker chimes in, says he might have a few, but it will take some time to look.
Garrus politely declines, and spends the next three hours staring at a screen, head cocked to the side, taking notes, occasionally grimacing.
And when it’s time he’s still not ready, he’s a mountain of jelly nerves and insecurity, and he’s never felt less sure of himself than he does now. Then she says it will be okay, and he believes her. And she elbows him in the keel and he pokes her in the cheek with a mandible and they laugh and laugh and he finally figures out what he did wrong by searching for “sex” instead of “love.”
Wishing and pretending are one and the same anymore.
i mean, personally even aside from the extremely unhealthy and potentially (re:probably) abusive overtones of these sorts of prompts, what bugs me about the “Garrus is a savage beast!” fanon is that it’s never that Garrus is a weird overprotective dick because that’s just how Garrus is - it’s always portrayed as being a distinctly turian thing. Oh Garrus growls because he’s turian. Garrus bites and scratches with a total lack of control or care for his partner because he’s turian. Garrus goes into bizarre “primal” rutting heats because he’s turian. And there’s something really…uncomfortable in making an entire sapient people your monstrous sex fantasy, for me.
IDK, there’s a lot of fucked up layers to Garrus’ fanon portrayal, I’m not really sure I can really articulate all my issues with it (she says as she’s typing out a long ass post.) I will say that I have no issue with people that like rough!Garrus in the bedroom - if you wanna headcanon that Garrus is like, super dominant and rough and tumble during sex, have at it - bedroom behavior often doesn’t match one’s public persona, after all. It’s when it extends outside the bedroom that I start getting weirded out.
Don’t get too close, it’s dark inside. It’s where my demons hide.