#ofbulletinnuendos

[bioticiisms]

@ofbulletinnuendos

            “Y’know, I don’t think I’ll ever get over just how big this Normandy is compared to the last one.”

[iinfiltrator-blog]

“ be nice ”

two words

“This platform was under the impression we were being ‘nice’. Please clarify, Vakarian Garrus.”

[kissmyhelmet-blog]

@ofbulletinnuendos

         continued from ✗

She waited. When all of their shipmates arrived, when her friends greeted her with tired smiles and sad eyes and filtered past her to the waiting Asari Dreadnought to take them on a tour to listen to people who barely knew Shepard talk about their heroism as if they were there. And talk about Anderson, without knowing what became of either of them.

                            She waited.

And now some one else missing is added to the list.

It starts as an off mumble, a few worried glances sent her way, and then a murmur.

                               ‘ Where’s Garrus? ‘

                               “ He is supposed to be here. ”

        Of course he is, he was Shepard’s best friend, he wouldn’t dare miss it.

                  But he does.

It’s like she’s back in the hallway outside of her ambassadorial suite, watching him walk away. She should have known he wouldn’t keep his promise, she should have made him stay.

She boards the ship with the final boarding call still echoing in the deserted terminal. He’s not coming, she knew he wouldn’t. She shouldn’t have expected him to, she shouldn’t have waited, she should have brought a date. She’d had plenty of offers, but turned them all down, another regret to pile onto the long pile forming in the back of her mind.  With one final look back she slips into the lights of the grand party inside, full of sorrow and speeches and plaques, in her fancy new wrap that apparently made some of her oldest friends ‘barely recognize her’.

           She takes it as a compliment,            after all she barely recognizes herself.

What she doesn’t expect is a reply to her omnitool message. Her eyes looking at it for a long moment in disbelief, but that quickly fades to anger.

That bosh’tet. Gloved fingers curl into a tiny fist above delicate wrist, tempted to not say anything at all and give him back the silence he’s given her.

It’s when the first keynote speaker stands to speak that she finally opens it up. Thankful for the helmet that makes sure no one can see how hard she’s biting her cheek, or how much her shoulders hunching have nothing to do with the subject at hand, but the little pinging sound of a new message in her headset.

                       To: G. Vakarian                        Subject: N/A

                              . . . Of course you can’t.

She hovers over the keys, staring at the flashing line of her message - before forcing herself to hit send. There are a million other things she wants to say to him - a million hurts and threats. But they don’t matter. He promised, and he didn’t make it.

                                            It’s that simple. It has to be.

[cxdebreaker-blog]

X ofbulletinnuendos “Spirits, Garrus! What did you do to your face!?”

[indomitvble-blog]

ofbulletinnuendos ; 

     “Oh, because I totally would know,” she rolled her eyes at him,       feigning being not amused, but leaned into the pecks he planted       on her head. Only with you, she thought to herself. 

          “If I did it more often, what are the chances that I’d be            blowing up your already large ego?” tone definitely            teasing, she leaned up to give him a soft kiss.

[indomitvble-blog]

'Don't go where I can't follow' *laughs w/ salad*

In the safety and comfort of her cabin, the sheets intertwined between their legs, their breathing and the low, almost distant hum of the engine the only audible things in the room. After hours of tumbling around in bed, breathy laughs being exchanged, the touches shared ranging from varying levels of need – softly, sweetly; then becoming needier, stronger; only to come down to a blissful, loving trace of a finger or a claw. 

It was easy to forget that there was a war raging. And even easier to forget that the final push, the day they storm London to put an end to the Reapers once and for all, was mere hours away.

And as they lay there in silence, foreheads bumped together in what seemed to be their signature position, both of their eyes closed – the same thing ran through their minds. After having lost the other more times than imaginable, after spending years of being unfailingly loyal, always having each other’s backs… Another desperation seemed unthinkable. 

But they knew – God, Spirits; oh, they knew. Years and years of military servitude, and, the example of all the troops that they’ve lost thus far served as a grim reminder that they both knew so well. Casualties were inevitable, and death didn’t care for rank, importance, or what you leave behind. If you so happened to be flanked by the enemy, or be located in the wrong place at the wrong time; oh, fate was merciless sometimes. 

And they knew, even as two seasoned soldiers with training and prowess that only further proved that they were more than capable of handling themselves in the field; after all, Garrus’ veins pumped with military blood, born and bred for the line of duty, his people the picture of military strength; Olivia, who was nothing more than a colony girl that rose to become the commander Shepard, the survivor of Akuze, the N7 graduate, the woman who everyone knew fought like fire and steel comprised her. They knew that they weren’t going to be exceptions and that anything could happen -- after having her own run-ins with death, Shepard knew better than to think she was invincible. 

He seemed to press his forehead plate further into hers, of course not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to catch her attention and jog her out of her thoughts. She opened her eyes when he spoke, vocalizing the words they both thought --

         “DON’T GO WHERE I CAN’T FOLLOW.”

She knew that he would follow her to the edge of every damn system and relay and galaxy there ever was and would be. Wherever, whenever -- it didn’t matter, as long as he had the means to, he would tear across the universe for her and with her. And she would do the same for him.

But she knew better than to give him an empty promise, and even though her tongue wanted her to tell him yes, never, i promise; her heart and mind knew better.

So she took his face in her hands, cupping both sides, feeling the plates under her fingers and tracing soft circles on the scars she could feel, and pressed a kiss to his mouth, keeping it there for a few beats before pulling away to sigh, not pulling away fully but instead, still close enough that her lips brushed against his mandibles, breathing three soft words meant only for him --

                                      “I LOVE YOU.”

[indomitvble-blog]

ofbulletinnuendos

The final report had been filed, and, stifling a yawn, the commander pushed back from her chair at the sound of a knock at the other end of her quarter’s doors. She opened the door of her cabin with a stretch of her arms, closing her eyes before straightening out again as the doors hissed open. The birthday celebration she had taken a rain check on was to be carried out now -- he’d made a point to see it through. And having never been one to celebrate her birthday, always going under the excuse that there wasn’t any time or there was no big deal, or taking the liberty of getting blackout drunk  -- it felt nice to have something different. The commander mustered up a smile at the sight of him, stepping aside to let him enter.

    “You know, I expected you to know the passcode to get in by now,”              She chuckled, making her way to her bed.