#damocles vakarian

[squigglysquidd]

Why did I have a weird dream of (normal) teenage Damocles selling pizza by standing outside the shop and playing guitar?

[wafflesrock16]

My OC Tassius with @squigglysquidd’s OC Damocles! They eventually became friends😜

Fabulous sketch courtesy of @ponara-arts

[pixelsandpins]

One of the Best Romances Ever Written is From an Action RPG

Because of my job(s) and the genre of game I write in, I consume an absolute unnecessary amount of romance. Sometimes willingly, sometimes as an adjunct to a larger story. And I often find that the placement of the romance in the latter condition creates a genuinely more effective emotional investment than one in which the romance is the central theme. Oh, Ashe, so you’ve got something poignant and insightful to say about the human condition and how the footprint of an inter-social narrative conveys the ways in which we, as people, desire to connect and experience the world?

No, I simply finished Mass Effect: Legendary Edition (the first time playing the trilogy stem to stern since Mass Effect 3 came out), and it left me with too many emotions to process on my own. So YOU get to do it with me.

I’m not sorry.

…

Okay a little sorry.

Because this is about Garrus Vakarian and Commander Shepard.

A Strong Core of Platonic Affection

The key to the ShepKarian romance is a deep and unwavering friendship built on mutual respect. Shepard doesn’t even move with romantic intention until halfway through the second game. At this point, as a pair, they’ve survived waves upon waves of AI soldiers, a galaxy altering event, a particle beam right through their ship, Shepard’s literal death and resurrection, a reunification in a mercenary combat hot zone, and about a hundred existential quandaries. Just prior to flirting with him properly the first time, Shepard prevents him from killing a man in revenge by refusing to leave the scope of his sniper rifle. These two are equals. She’s technically his commanding officer, but they are on the same footing in every way that matters. More importantly, they’re friends. They’re comrades. And those are the building blocks of a good romantic relationship.

And when it is time to start moving into romance? There’s no frustrating will-they-won’t-they (that we all know becomes a “they will” at the press of a button). No tiptoeing around with awkwardly built up sexual tension.

“Hey, Garrus, we should bang.”

“Okay. Sounds good, Shep. Let me go Google how we do that.”

“That’s not romantic!” you scream.

I don’t know? Maybe it’s not? But you know what it is? Perfectly sensible for these absolute idiots. They live bullet to bullet, catastrophe to catastrophe. There’s no time for “tee hee I like you, let’s smooch, maybe.”

No.

These are adults who have had adult relationships in the past and are facing down the possibility of their own death at every corner. They’re literally preparing for a suicide mission where one of them could actually die, in-game, if you don’t set things up the right way. They know what the hell is up, and they act on it without reservation or hesitation. They know what they want, and they’re going for it. Done. Deal.

Ludonarrative Harmony

You also can’t ignore the integral part the interactivity of video games play in the narrative development of their relationship. Shepard and Garrus don’t exist as passive characters that interact with each other in a set way. You, as the player, are Shepard, and from a meta-game perspective, you have to build a balanced team. Garrus, it so happens, is a mechanically well-rounded character, so there’s a high likelihood you’ll be bringing him on to your team for a large number of missions. He also appears early in the story in all three games (a slight advantage over Tali’Zorah, who despite appearing in all three games, as well, tends to be recruitable later). These things combined mean there’s a lot of time available for you, as a player and, therefore, Shepard as a character, to spend with the turian C-Sec agent/mercenary/military adviser.

Garrus becomes an active participant in the ever forward development of Shepard’s own personal arc. It’s not just scene to scene, passive elements in a romance on rails. They’re dodging gunfire together. Riding elevators together. Providing pithy, sarcastic commentary together. Their romance isn’t just about being together. It’s about saving the galaxy together.

The Pallor of Doom

And, okay, yeah, if you know what happens at the end, it’s like…okay then if it’s doomed from the start, what’s the point? And even if you don’t know what happens at the end, all three games go out of their way to make sure you’re aware how fragile the bonds holding up that sword of Damocles are at all times. But that looming specter of death is diegetic. It’s not just the audience lamenting with pre-broken heart that this romance has a dramatic expiry date. Garrus and Shepard know. They can wish for it. Hope for a future that expands out into the unknown infinity. But they know the odds, the real chances, that one of them won’t be coming out the other side. From the first proper I love you at the top of the Citadel to the last one at the base of the Reaper teleport beam, they always knew that they were living, and loving, on borrowed time.

But it didn’t matter.

Because a finite number of days being in that love was worth it when the alternative was never having it at all.

I think I need to go lie down, again.

[dearophelia]

gonna set your flag on fire - chapter 07

Thirty years after the war, things are as close to normal as they’ll get. Garrus is the turian councilor and Olivia runs Galactic Affairs, helping the galaxy rebuild. They’ve happily settled into the life they’ve built. Their kids are grown, and out living their own lives.

But something goes wrong on Nora’s latest mission. Very wrong.

chapter 07: what you call home is a box of memories

In which shit very much hits the fan. [read on AO3]

(thank you, as always, to @tarysande and @nightingaleseeking for endless cheerleading and support)

Charlotte Turner - Scientific Log - 3 March 2190.

Subject Rho remains stable. Aptitude tests (see attached results) show considerable promise, and subject seems likely to continue on the same trajectory. Subject is vulnerable to suggestion and wants to please her testers. Once her brain has developed enough to activate Damocles permanently, Subject Rho should be a perfect candidate for long-term programming. Estimations put the earliest Control trigger point at age 21.

While the team and I are hesitant to label this variant of Damocles an unparalleled success, it is most certainly a more viable prototype than all previous models. Experiment repetition determines true success. Subject Sigma is being prepared for pre-op beginning 0800 tomorrow.

Recommendation: provided she passes the next battery of physical tests, Subject Rho is ready for return to her parents on Rayngiri Station to begin integration and programming. For ease of assimilation, Subject Rho should be referred to in all reports from this point forward as Nora.

End log.  

***

Nora wakes up as two guards drag her down the hallway. It’s loud inside her head. Crowded. Chaotic. Like there’s another voice trying to be heard, but it hasn’t figured out how to speak yet, only scream.

Her body feels too heavy and her head feels too light as she tries to get her feet steady underneath her. A dull pain thuds behind her eyes, and the hallway doubles and slants sideways.

She stumbles over her feet as they turn into the cell block and falls when the guards push her back into the cell with Rachel. Pain blooms behind her knees as she slams into the freezing concrete. Shivers start deep in her chest and she crawls away from the force field into a corner.

“Nora?” Rachel asks quietly once the guards are gone.  

Nora thrusts out one shaking hand, keeping Rachel at an arm’s length away. She could certainly use a medic, but the second voice scratches at the inside of her head, trying to find its way out. Focusing only on her breathing, and not the way her head spins or how every muscle throbs or the darkness pushing at the edges of her vision, she slowly turns and sits. She presses herself up against the corner, as far away from her teammates as she can get. A few minutes pass before she trusts that it will be her own voice when she speaks.

“The chip’s active,” Nora whispers hoarsely, staring at the concrete floor. Her vision swims again. She leans her head back against the wall and takes three deep, controlled breaths. She desperately wants to take a moment and let those three words sink in, but the other voice scrabbles at the walls of her skull.

“It showed up on the scan, and they brought someone else in, and,” the dull, wordless voice expands inside her head, beginning to push her own voice aside. She bites down hard, grinding her teeth together, and pushes back. “I don’t know, she had an assistant and he did something, and it was like someone stabbed me in the head. And now there’s this other…voice.” She gestures at the air beside her head, as if they could see the noise as clearly as she can hear it.

“Why’d they send you back?” Carlos asks.

Nora abruptly opens her eyes and looks up at him. Spots dance across her vision in the bright light. She very carefully avoids looking at anyone else. “I don’t know,” she says. It’s a very good question, and if roles were reversed, they certainly wouldn’t send her back unless…a thought crosses her mind. Nora thinks – hopes – that it’s her own. “Knock me out. Now.”

“Nora…” Alle says gently from her cell across the hall.

She forces herself to look at Alle, her best friend since they were fifteen. Alle bites her lip and looks like she’s about to cry. I’m sorry, Nora wants to say. You’re the reason I made it through high school and now I’m the reason you’re probably going to die here. I’m sorry.

“She’s right,” Jonah says. “If the chip’s active, they would’ve kept her away from us unless there’s something they wanted.”

Nora finally sits up straight and looks at all of them. She had no business going on this mission and they all knew it, but they all followed her here anyway.

“Montgomery,” Micah says,” right here,” he points to a pulse point under his jaw. “Just a little pressure. It won’t hurt and she’ll go right out.”

Nora manages to smile at him. Always calm, always centered, always her steady rock, even in the middle of this mission that’s gone as completely sideways as it could.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel says to her. She gestures to Nora’s jaw and looks to Micah for confirmation. He nods.

“It’s okay,” Nora says. None of this is okay, and maybe it never will be again, but she’s a liability they need to take out of the equation. “Just do it. Please.” Her breath stutters when she inhales, and she doesn’t look at Alle.

I’m so sorry.

***

Alle watches, helpless, as Rachel hits the spot Micah pointed to and Nora crumples to the ground. Rachel waves her hand over Nora’s face, snaps her fingers, even claps her hands loudly right next to Nora’s ear, all to no response. Out like a light, just like Micah promised. At least it was quick and easy.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Nora’s her best friend, but right now she’s a liability. They’re soldiers, they’ve trained for this.

Well. Not this. No one could ever train for this. But they’ve trained for compartmentalizing, for dissociating from their emotions until there’s time for it, for focusing on the mission and the mission only. Three deep breaths – good air in, bad air out – and Alle opens her eyes.

Jonah’s popping the latches on his boot.

“Seriously?”

He stretches his neck to one side and then the other, cracking his neck, but Alle well knows that trick. She’s used it herself countless times as a discrete way of checking security cameras. “Move,” he whispers, not moving his mouth.

Alle blinks at him. They’re locked in a 9x9 cell. There’s nowhere to move. She’s on the verge of saying so when he gives her a slight shake of his head.

“Between me and the cameras,” he says. It’s eerie hearing him speak without his lips moving. “Look natural.”

“No one in the history of that phrase has ever looked natural,” she mutters, but gets to her feet. She dusts off her palms on her pants and walks to the front of the cell, just beside the force field. She cracks her neck, pulling the same maneuver as Jonah, and then stretches out her arms as she looks across the hall. Nora’s cell is diagonally across and at a bad angle, but she can make out her friend lying on the floor. Rachel’s put her folded-up sweatshirt underneath Nora’s head and is kneeling beside her. She holds two fingers to Nora’s wrist and looks at her watch.

“How is she?” Alle asks softly, once Rachel sets Nora’s arm across her stomach.

“Her vitals are okay, but I can’t tell what the chip’s doing without a scanner,” she whispers without moving her lips, just like Jonah.

Alle wonders whether Jonah had his entire team take ventriloquism lessons. And whether that might not be a bad idea for Chimera once they get out of this mess.

“What’s the number on those cameras?” Jonah asks, still a whisper.

Alle tries to surreptitiously squint at the camera, but it’s Micah who answers.

“ERC 5B,” he says.

“Good,” Jonah says, in a normal voice this time. “The Elanus B models don’t have audio.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Carlos asks.

Jonah stares at the solid wall separating their two cells, as if he could stare straight through the concrete at Carlos. “Asks the man who gave us a lecture on bears on the way here.”

There’s a brief pause. “Carry on.”

“Anyway,” Jonah says, “we should avoid talking directly into the camera in case someone on staff can lip read, but we should be okay to talk.”

Alle tears her focus away from her unconscious friend to look over her shoulder at him. She raises her eyebrow: he has his boot off now and frowns as he tries to pry something off the side of the sole. A compartment pops open. “Okay, what are you doing?”

He turns his boot so the open compartment faces down, gives the boot a solid tap, and a small omnitool falls into his lap. He holds it up, careful to keep it in her shadow.

Alle blinks. “You keep a spare omnitool in your boot?”

“You don’t?”

“Well, now I will.” Under the guise of stretching, mindful of Jonah’s warning, she turns back to the others. “Wu has an omnitool,” she tells the others as she bends over, palming the floor. Better Cerberus get a nice view of her ass than see the word omnitool on her lips.

“I can piggyback onto their outgoing signal, but it’ll probably only work once,” he says. “Votes on what to say?”

“Mission FUBARed,” Carlos suggests. “Short and sweet.”

Jonah sighs, and Alle bites back a grin at the flash of irritation that crosses his face. She shifts position, careful to keep the bulk of her body in front of the camera.

“While accurate,” Jonah says, “I think any potential help would appreciate a little more intel than ‘FUBAR.’”

“Mission FUBAR,” Micah repeats the headline. “Team captured, AA guns online, Vakarian compromised.” He pauses. “Vega will know what that means, but Cerberus won’t know that we know about the chip.”

Rachel looks down at Nora. “I think that ship has sailed.”

“We have to take the risk,” Jonah says. “Any rescue team needs to know what they’re walking into.” He starts to type the message.

“Uhm,” Alle says, stretching her legs back behind her into a downward-facing dog. “Just a thought, and I don’t know what kind of rock these guys might be living under, but maybe we don’t risk letting Cerberus know they have the turian councilor’s daughter? Call her Nora.” She sighs as her calves start to release their tension; she sat on the concrete floor too long.

“Good call,” the other three say in unison as Jonah changes the message.

A few minutes of silence pass while Jonah encrypts the message. “Okay,” he says. “Sent.” He slips the omnitool back into his boot and puts it on again. Alle stands back up straight and blinks away a light wave of vertigo.

“And now we wait,” Carlos says.

“And now we wait,” Rachel echoes.

Alle sits down at the front of the cell and sighs. Nora doesn’t move.

***

“I’ll be fine, Mom,” Nora says, as much for her own sake as her mother’s. “I have meds, and Quentus is on call if I need a lunch buddy.”

Mom nods. “If you need anything…”

“I will call you,” she promises. Her heart starts to pound, but she has to go in. She can’t stand here in the school office forever. Good air in, bad air out.

Mom pulls her into a close hug. “I love you,” she whispers, and kisses her cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Nora hugs her tightly. “Love you too.” Before she loses her nerve entirely and begs for her mom to just let her take classes online for the rest of high school, she lets go and steps into the small inner room.

Five other transfer students sit at various desks around the room: three humans she doesn’t recognize, the son of the turian ambassador (she gives him a little wave, and he nods in return), and a drell she’s seen around at various parties. She takes a seat near the back; not too far to be in the back, but far enough away from the front and behind everyone, so she can see them all. No chance of them whispering behind her back. With a sharp breath, she settles into the hard chair and pulls her tablet from her backpack.

As the bell rings, another student runs in through the door, frozen coffee in hand, sneaking in right in front of the assistant dean. She sits down two seats away from Nor and affects a posture that looks like she was sitting there the whole time.

The assistant dean clears his throat in clear disapproval, the girl bites back a smile, and he begins introductions and orientation.

As soon as the bell rings, announcing lunch, Nora slips out and starts to text Quentus to see if he can meet her at the smoothie place down the street. Hearing her name, Nora turns around and sees Alle dropping her empty cup into a matter recycler and then rushing catching up with her.

“Want to grab lunch?” Alle asks, squinting in the fake Citadel sun as they walk outside.

Nora smiles. “Yeah, sure.” She quickly changes her text.

NV: I’ve got lunch covered QV: did you make a friend? NV: okay I know that’s supposed be genuine but you just sound like a dick QV: noted NV: and maybe QV: still want me to meet you after school? NV: yes please QV: i’ll have coffee. enjoy lunch with your maybe-friend!

She closes her messaging app and follows Alle down the street and around the corner, into an unassuming alley that smells delicious. Food stalls of all cuisines from all species line the walls, leaving only a small, crowded space to navigate down the street.

“Wow,” she says. The Presidium is huge, she could never hope to see all of it, but she thought she’d found all the cool lunch spots.

“Yeah. My roommate at Gagarin Prep went to CLA for a bit, told me about this place. Meet you on the other side in ten minutes?”

Nora nods and goes off in search of lunch. As tempting as that oorlak smells, she doubts they can make it levo for her like Dad can at home, so she passes the stall and keeps walking. She wanders the aisle and eventually settles on an asari fruit salad with grilled tofu.

On her way to the other end, she spies a familiar logo and makes a quick, unintended stop. “Hi, Lily,” she says to the woman behind the bakery stall.

“Hey, Nora!” Lily grins. “Your grandmother told me you were starting at CLA today.” She slides a sprinkled sugar cookie into a bag and hands it over to Nora.

Nora reaches for it, then hesitates. “Can I have two? I’m meeting someone.”

“Sure.” Lily puts another cookie in the bag. “Hannah’s here on Tuesdays, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Nora says, smiling widely. She puts the cookie bag into her backpack. She sees her grandmother regularly but knowing she could find her here during the week if she needed is nice. “I’ll see you later,” she says, waving as she heads off to the end to meet Alle.

She checks her watch as she exits the chaos - eleven minutes. Alle isn’t there. And for thirty horrifying seconds, Nora stands there alone.

Adrenaline rushes in, bitter on her tongue, and her breathing grows shallow. She wipes sweaty palms on her pants and tries to bring her rate back to normal through sheer force of will - she can’t possibly be having a panic attack on the very first day of a new school, she can’t, and if she starts on any of the coping methods her therapist gave her, it means she’s definitely having a panic attack.

And she is not having a panic attack.

And then Alle pushes her way out of the crowd. “Sorry! The gyro line was nuts –” she stops suddenly. “Are you okay?”

Nora lets out a slow, controlled breath. “Yeah,” she smiles. “Let’s go find somewhere to sit.”

***

Nora awakens back in the lab, restrained to the chair. It isn’t the slow wakefulness of rising naturally, but the sudden jolt of chemically-induced consciousness. She immediately closes her eyes, feigning continued sleep. Maybe she’ll hear something useful. Whether she has the chance to inform her teammates about any intel is another story, and a problem for later.

“Are you sure about this?” Adam’s voice.

“Of course,” Charlotte says, a little annoyed.

“This wasn’t our intended target.”

“That doesn’t matter,” she says, with a clipped tone that clearly silences any continued argument. “This is better than we could’ve hoped for.”

“How so?” Adam again.

By the small sounds they make as they move around the lab, Nora gathers that they’re the only two in here.

Charlotte scoffs. “Do you really think Shepard and Vakarian aren’t going to turn the galaxy upside down to find their daughter? Our sources think there’s a better than even chance one or both of them will even come in person. It’s why we let her team’s little SOS through.”

Involuntarily, Nora stiffens at the mention of her parents and the trap they’re walking into. She doesn’t know how her team got a message out, but if she’s sent back to the cells, maybe �� maybe – they can get a second one out with a warning.

A shadow crosses her face. Nora tries for another few seconds but gives up the act and opens her eyes.

“Of course we know who you are,” Charlotte smiles. It’s meant to be friendly, and Nora sees the ice beneath it. “I do apologize,” she says.

This woman has a lot to apologize for, but Nora suspects the apology isn’t for what she’s hoping. “For what?”

Charlotte draws a stool closer to the bed and sits down. She crosses her legs, primly tugging down the demure skirt. It’s a different outfit than before; Nora wonders how many days have passed. She picks up a tablet from the side table and begins tapping at it.

Nora raises her eyebrows expectantly.

“There’s a scientific explanation,” Charlotte says, turning her attention to a console above Nora’s head, “but it’s a little dull.”

Nora strains her neck backward, trying to catch a glimpse of the console. She’s strapped tight to the table and can’t do anything about the console, not even if there’s a big red control switch, but it feels better than just lying here. The angle’s strange, and the most she’s able to see before Charlotte pushes it over to Adam is an image of a brain with a glowing dot pulsing near the middle. Safe to assume it’s hers. Nora settles against the bed again and tests the restraints one more time, with just as little luck as before.

A slight buzz starts inside her skull, and the dull, incoherent voice from earlier begins to scream again. Both the buzz and the voice are so faint that she probably wouldn’t notice either if she weren’t lying strapped to a table in a quiet lab.

“I’m afraid reprogramming you is going to hurt,” Charlotte says. She looks down at Nora. “This would have been easier for both of us if you’d been with us from the beginning.”

“Somehow, I’m not too upset about that.”

Charlotte gives her a tight smile. “We’ll talk about that in the morning.” She looks over at Adam. “It’s ready. Begin, please.”

The buzzing slams into an earthquake inside her head, and the screams tear through her skull like they’re going to burst her eardrums from the inside out. Nora tries to hang on, tries to fight it and stay awake, but blinding-hot pain consumes her. She struggles against the restraints, trying to curl up in a ball, trying to cover her head, as if that will help at all. The bite of the restraints against her skin hardly registers through the stabbing, splitting, breaking feeling inside her head. Hot tears fall down her cheeks and a voice starts to plead – “Stop, please, stop, please please please, stop,” the voice sobs.

Nora hardly recognizes the hoarse, desperate voice as her own.

“Higher,” Control’s voice cuts through.

And then something snaps, ripping the last please from her throat, and Nora just screams.

***

Nora stares at her hands. The question has been burning at her for days, and now with Quentus out for the night with some friends and Dad stuck at work, she’s alone with Mom. It isn’t that she doesn’t trust her brother or father, but something about her mother has always just been…calm. Comforting.

True.

“Mom?” she calls quietly toward the kitchen. She waits for her to look over. “How do I know this is real?”

Her mother raises an eyebrow, and Nora taps at her head.

“Is that what this is about?” Mom asks gently. She drops a handful of mini marshmallows into both mugs and brings them over to the couch.

Nora takes one mug and waits until Mom’s settled beside her. “No,” she says. “Not really.” And it’s not – it’s about school and friends who suddenly turned their backs. But the chip isn’t helping. It never has. Part of her wishes they’d never told her about it. She knows why they did, and the rest of her does appreciate knowing, but she’s been thinking a lot recently about how everything would be a little bit easier if she didn’t know.

“Talk to me,” Mom says, reaching out to gently tuck Nora’s hair behind her ear, like she used to do when Nora was small and had a head full of curls.

She sips at her hot chocolate. “I used to be able to ignore it,” she says. “But then all that…crap,” she waves her hand with the generalization, wrapping all of her panic and anxiety and stress into one word, “happened, and I couldn’t anymore.” She shrugs. “Like my brain figured it was already freaking out so went ‘why not’ and added the chip onto the pile of bullshit.”

Mom nods and takes a drink of her own hot chocolate. “I’m real,” she says. “You’re real. And this is real.”

“If you were a Cerberus hallucination, you’d say that.”

She smiles a quiet little sad smile. “It’s something your dad said to me,” she says. “And I told him pretty much the same thing.”

Nora laughs softly and takes a sip that’s mostly melted marshmallow.

“But,” she waits until Nora looks back at her. “At some point, you’ve gotta trust something. Otherwise that pit’s pretty deep.”

She thinks about making a joke, about already being way over her head in that particular deep end, but there’s a strange look on Mom’s face. Sad, worried, concerned, and something Nora’s never seen on her mother before – fear. She swallows back the joke.

“Something made you trust me thirteen years ago,” Mom says softly. “Hold onto that. This is real. I promise.”

[ao3feed-shakarian]

Osteogenesis

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2pU6btY

by squiggly_squid

Parable one-shots of the time during Cassia and Damocles' childhood along with their the work their parents put into keeping their family apart from the hellish galaxy.

Words: 3057, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 9 of Parable

Fandoms: Mass Effect Trilogy

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, Gen

Characters: Female Shepard (Mass Effect), Garrus Vakarian, Original Turian Character(s), Original Male Turian Character(s), Original Female Turian Character(s)

Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian

Additional Tags: Childhood, Growing Up

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2pU6btY

[squigglysquidd]

Commissions from DestinySquared

I recently commissioned the amazing artist, DestinySquared on Twitter for a trio of pieces, each with a couple from Parable (one borrowed from my great friend @wafflesrock16​ and done as a gift).

You can find DestinySquared here: https://twitter.com/Squared2theRoot

[squigglysquidd]

Fic Black Monday

Fic Back Friday Monday

Take an older fic (or art for our artist friends) from about a year ago or older even and talk about it, show it off and hype it up.

So I'm going to go with an artwork I did back in 2018 just because it has a lot of effort I put into it. Probably the most I have before and since.

It took inspiration from Baroness's cover art for their album Purple. I was listening to it on a car ride and it just inspired me to make something for Parable's Vakarians. Meaning, their whole family.

But I couldn't just make it ref into a pic because it has four naked women with animals and flowers, so I went with making the characters into seasons. I also kinda tried to do an art nouveau style too. Don't know how successful I was, but I like its final look.

I really should redo it one day.

[squigglysquidd]

Big, stupid, happy flailing today upon getting the awesomest gift from the ever so sweet @wafflesrock16

Oh my gosh, guys .... @wafflesrock16​ got a commission of Damocles from THE @heterochromiaturian​ . I am stupid happy to have art of my bad boi grouchy pants from Bee. He’s so perfect 😭

Thank you two both so much!!!

And a pic specifically of his Death Moth neck tattoo:

SO IN LOVE!!

[squigglysquidd]

I wonder if anyone's curious about just how many damn tattoos he has and what they are 🤔

Thanks to recovering from my food poisoning, I finally finished coloring Damocles’ tats :D

[squigglysquidd]

Resentment - A Day to Remember (Damocles Inspiration)

No, I can’t stop feeling like every day’s exactly the same With a one track mind, I don’t think I can change Trapped in memories stuck on replay, replay, replay!

Starts with a spark, then it’s a wildfire Burning me up, Burning me up I dance with demons on a high wire Lift me up, Lifting me up

Resentment!

[squigglysquidd]

Cassia loves jewelry and all species' fashion

Damcoles wears a hooded, leather biker jacket that says 'The Reaper' on it because he's edgy

Saren wears a mix of business casual and formal clothing

Aeson loves neon and won't anything monochrome

[squigglysquidd]

I'm a bit late, but may I have 🏡 🍬 and 😡 for Aeson please?

Aeson Sidonis

🏡 : For a home headcanon

Aeson lived with his parents on Virmire as a child of the Wraiths. He’s proud of his home even if so many will consider the Wraiths nothing but glorified mercs (though they’re actually closer to paid vigilantes) and he even takes the Wraith markings as his own colony paints. He stays home with his parents as an adult because he’s so close to them, but eventually moves out with his best friend and lover, Damocles to a small beach home on the Vakarian property as they follow in Garrus’ footsteps and make their own small home. Aeson is honestly very simple in his home requirements. So long as he’s with loved ones and not alone, he’s happy. The added bonus of being able to live on the beach and so close to the water is an added bonus.

🍬 : For a family headcanon

I’m sure everyone knows Aeson’s dad is Lantar Sidonis, yes, that Lantar Sidonis. His mother is Primarch Adrien Victus’ cousin, Aelia Victus. Aelia and Lantar both joined the Normandy after the war, Aelia as a co-pilot of the Normandy while EDI was nonfunctional and Lantar because, well, if Garrus didn’t step forward and take him in, Aria would have killed him just for the hell of it in front of him and Jane. Aelia doesn’t have any bad blood with the Vakarians and Garrus may still hate Lantar for what he did, but in his mind, Lantar was given his proper punishment when Garrus cut the ends of his mandibles off and left him with a permanent scar every turian would know the meaning of (I HC that turians have certain ways of leaving marks on others to show things like they lack of loyalty, betrayal in battle, etc). Over time, Garrus accepts and even forgives Lantar some, but a lot of that is thanks to his life as a father and seeing how Lantar takes the brunt of anything given so that he can give his own son, Aeson, a chance at a good life.

Because of that, Aeson is definitely a spoiled only child, but he doesn’t take it to heart. He’s spoiled by his parents, but he knows that the world is a harsh place and any sense of being so well taken care of hasn’t gone to his head. He suffers some prejudice from turian kids thanks to their parents telling them his father isn’t to be trusted and is a visible traitor, but he doesn’t hold any ill will towards his dad. The way Aeson sees it is his dad has suffered enough for his mistakes, but Lantar never lets it flow into the home life. Aeson knows his dad isn’t that man on Omega anymore and loves his father no matter his past because he sees that change and growth. His dad fights to make Aeson’s life better despite his own past and Aeson loves his father for it.

In fact, Aelia still flies so most times, it’s just Aeson and his dad. I’m not saying she’s an absent mother, but it’s pretty easy to form a close bond when you’re dad works on Virmire and comes home every night. When she is home, however, Aelia douts on Aeson, her perfect little chick (she embarrasses him so much with that he wishes he could melt into the floor most times).

😡 : For an anger headcanon

Aeson is pretty good about not getting too angry at things. He may get irritated at times, but he usually is very passive and avoids conflict. Most times, the things that make him angry also upset him overall (it tends to be things like prejudices against his family name or other fishermen trying to sabotage his equipment so they can get their hands on the better catches while he is busy repairing his things). When he gets upset, though, Damocles is usually always there to cheer him up, whether it be by playing games together on their omni-tools, binge-watching vids, or reading comics, new and old.

Thanks for the asks! Sorry they were a bit long-winded 

[squigglysquidd]

🌟💕🍬 for anyone (other than female-human/male-turian couples)

Not sure why it messed up here, but luckily my phone can see the emojis you sent.

Sex + Romance Headcanons

I’m going to go ahead and do the twins because they’re relationships with turians.

⭐ What is my muse’s sexual/romantic orientation?

Cassia is a demi-sexual. She’s really only ever wanted Saren, but it grew from a little teenager crush into friendship first. She was attracted to him, but it didn’t grow sexual until she was older. It didn’t take too much longer after that before she had her first time with him. Otherwise, she doesn’t need sex like most turians and instead finds stress relief in her many friendships and hobbies.

Damocles is bisexual, but I guess if you want to be specific, pansexual as asari are monogendered and not classified as either male or female. He has no qualms about who he sleeps with, but in the end, his ultimate partner is male.

💕 Would my muse ever be in a polyamorous relationship?

Cassia is kinda vanilla and really only wants to be monogamous. Saren is fine with that because, frankly, stress relief with others before they were in a relationship was just like a bodily function to maintain a good sense of mind. He didn’t really have anyone he was attracted to beyond the nice looks and an agreeable personality enough for a one night stand, but he never got close to people like he’s close to Cassia. In a way, if Cassia admits it, she was actually a little jealous when he was having stress relief before her, but knew it wasn’t his fault, just that she hadn’t gained the courage to say anything.

Damocles is in an open relationship with Aeson. They’ve come to an agreement that they may not be on the same planet or the same ship as each other and life can get stressful, especially for Damo. However, when they’re able to get to each other, they stay together. They may have threesomes occasionally, but Damocles likes knowing he has someone whose heart is all his and Aeson is much the same.

🍬 Is my muse a sub, dom, or switch?

Cassia isn’t really into it that much, but I guess if you consider it, she can be both with a heavy leaning towards being submissive. There are those times where she’ll take over and Saren better hold on, but it doesn’t get into the real heavy sub/dom stuff.

Damocles is majorly a dom, but for Aeson, he’s happily switched. Aeson feels a bit awkward doing it, but sometimes he knows Damocles wants to let go and be guided. They don’t get too much into roleplaying or the like, but Aeson has learned that Damocles likes to wear a collar just a little bit snug when he’s playing bottom. 

Thanks for the asks!

[squigglysquidd]

Sunlight for the asks?

Gold is a rather rare color for a turian’s plates, right up there with deep reds or bleached bone white. Sure, there are plenty of sandstone turians, but they never quite get the luster to their plates that comes with the rare genetic - well, mutation. Without that luster of true gold, they don’t really stand out with in a crowd.

Not like the way Aeson does ....

Rumbling at the thought, Damocles watches his friend pull up the nets he’d set earlier before dawn had even brightened up the sky. He had nothing to do today, so he tagged along while Aeson tended to his fishing, the two simply shooting the shit and sharing in some alcohol.

He doesn’t notice Aeson’s proud thrum when he glances over and shows him a particularly large fish that’s sure to make a large sum of credits in the market. He’s too preoccupied with the way the sunlight dances across his friend’s plates, of how it makes them glisten.

Damocles knows telling Aeson he’s gorgeous will only embarrass his friend, having seen it plenty of times when strangers have complimented him. Aeson is modest, only proud in the small things that - usually - end up benefiting someone else. Tending to his friends, that’s what Aeson enjoys, not being told stupid things like how he looks when the sun hits his bare back as he turns from Damocles to pull up and check another net.

So Damocles stays silent, only grinning when Aeson brings up another successful catch and wrangles it into the small tank that holds his catches. Even if Aeson doubts his own visual appeal, Damocles knows he’ll be right there to give his friend a boost of self-confidence whenever it comes a time that his younger friend needs to preen himself in order to impress a date. It won’t take much because he knows, even now in a fisherman’s coveralls with some oil from the engine on his hands and arms, Aeson is a sight to see.

Damocles sits and considers that he really does like the color gold.

[squigglysquidd]

MerMay Damo!

I'd have to go through the sketch and add his details, but damn right Damo's a shark :)

[squigglysquidd]

With the Tool album coming out this month (finally) I’ve been thinking. Man, Tool (and by extension A Perfect Circle and Puscifer) is really Damocles’ vibes. And not just because it’s my favorite band.

“Stinkfist” by Tool

Just not enough I need more Nothing seems to satisfy I said I don't want it I just need it To breathe, to feel, to know I'm alive 

“Ænema” by Tool

Some say a comet will fall from the sky Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves Followed by fault lines that cannot sit still Followed by millions of dumbfounded dipshits And some say the end is near Some say we'll see Armageddon soon I certainly hope we will I sure could use a vacation from this Stupid shit, silly shit, stupid shit One great big festering neon distraction I've a suggestion to keep you all occupied Learn to swim, learn to swim, learn to swim

“Passive” by A Perfect Circle

Wake up and face me (Why can't you?) (Come on now) Don't play dead cause maybe (Don't play dead) (Cause maybe) Someday I'll walk away and say (Someday I'll) You fuckin' disappoint me Maybe you're better off this way

“The Remedy” by Puscifer

You speak like someone who has never been Smacked in the fucking mouth That’s OK, we have the remedy You speak like someone who has never been Knocked the fuck on out But we have your remedy