#reports. ( “CERBERUS” );

[hellguarded-moved]

≥ @caemthe_

cú vc: smol boy, baby, tiny, tiny boy... does not know anything... doesn't even know abc's... just knows be little and nap... so pure ✨

" i thought you were supposed to have my back. "

[quick-attack]

the third 'head' revealed... the bubbly (and mildly immature) cerberus minthe

[akkivee]

i’ve been thinking about it since i saw a few tweets about it but i really like the idea that ichijiku’s speakers are also gates to a colosseum and she’s unleashing a beast on the warrior in the ring. it plays off the drbs which is why i like it but it’s also got mad beast tamer vibes, like how her motto calls men beasts and puts a spin on the beauty and the beast trope lol

[lou-struck]

Three Heads, Three Costumes

Lucifer x reader

Flufftober Day 3: Pet Costumes

WC: 1.4k

~ You were supposed to go shopping for your own Halloween Costume but got carried away and ended up making Lucifer's whole month.

Lucifer is exhausted. The haunting melody of one of his favorite records does little to destress him as he sits hunched over his dark mahogany desk, completely engrossed in the expense report for the upcoming RAD Halloween party. Each charge on the ledger seems to deepen the crease between his dark eyebrows. 

No matter how many times he looks lit over, he cannot understand why Asmodeus spent 36,000 Grimm just on Mirrors for what he has labeled as aesthetic purposes. 

He sighs deeply and runs his hand through his hair. Of course, he trusts his brother, but he worries that the fifth-born may be letting the power of being on the party planning committee go to his head.

After staring down at these documents for so long, the demon feels a headache brewing behind his tired eyes. Even when he glances away, he can still see the numbers from the ledger ingrained in his blurred vision.

"You look like you could use a break," a soft voice says from the doorway. He has to blink a few times to remove the numbers from your figure, but simply seeing you eases his mind tremendously. 

"Ah Mc. How did the costume shopping go?" he asks as you pad across the room over to his seat and wrap your arms around the demon, which melts under your loving touch.

"I didn't quite make it there," you say with a strange little chuckle. Lucifer looks up at your face, and he knows you are hiding something from him. 

"But you were gone all afternoon; how did you not manage to buy anything?" he presses, shooting you a knowing smirk. 

"I never said I didn't get anything, just nothing for me." You say, your excitement bursting at the seams as you let go of the demon and pull his chair out from his desk. "Come see what I got."

Your eagerness is contagious and Lucifer finds himself on his own two feet, following you out the door, a loving smile on his face as he wonders what he has gotten himself into.

~

You had wanted to go costume shopping today, you really did. 

But as you were walking to the little boutique Asmodeus told you about, you passed the pet store advertising new seasonal pet treats and you just had to go in and get a few special biscuits for Cerberus has been such a good boy lately. 

You filled your basket with more treats than even Beel could eat in one sitting. You realized that the store didn't just carry pet food and seasonal treats; they also had a huge section of enchanted pet costumes designed to fit whatever pet the owner has. 

You immediately discarded your basket and grabbed a cart instead.

As you descend down into the underground tomb where your sweet, three-headed, fire-breathing hellhound resides. You hope that Lucifer doesn't bring up how much Grimm you have spent today…

"Well, I hope you aren't bringing me down here to share a Cask of Amontillado with me," Lucifer chuckles, following behind you. 

"Nope, not today," you pant, forgetting how many freaking stairs you have to climb to get down here. You pant and are so thankful you used a spell to whisk your many, many shopping bags down all these stairs just moments after you got home. "I got a little something for Cerberus."

"I see," the demon says amusedly, not sounding out of breath at all. "Whatever it is, I hope it doesn't spoil his dinner."

"What kind of dog parent would I be if I don't spoil him a bit," you huff, reaching the bottom of the steps and glancing back at him with a smile.

His lips curl into a smirk as he stops on the last step, towering over your form. "Are you implying that the two of us are a married couple?" 

"For now," you say playfully, looking up at the handsome demon, "but if you don't play your cards right, I'll take the dog when we split." He laughs as you walk over to your pile of shopping bags next to a long stone bench. 

"Did you really get all of this for the dog?" he asks, eyeing your purchases. Of course, you weren't gonna be able to hide anything from him; he's been dealing with Mammon's spending habits for years. 

"I had to," you say quickly. You look around for Cerberus, but he must be off wandering the tunnels, which means that you'll have to do the first part of your pet store haul without him. This may be for the best because you know there is no way in Diavolo you will get that dog to try on all the costumes you bought him. "Have a seat, and I'll show you what I got."

"What's in the bags?" he asks, sliding onto the bench next to you. 

"Costumes," you say, holding up the first bag, "I thought he should get to dress up for Halloween, too."

"You bought costumes… for my Hellhound…" he says slowly, trying to process your strange request. 

"One costume for each head, actually," you say, reaching into the bag filled to the brim with treats and crinkling the packaging; the faint sound travels through the room, alerting the puppy to your presence. 

From one of the tunnels, Cerberus emerges; his sleek fur shines in the light of the enchanted torches as he rushes towards you, his three tongues out and tail wagging up a storm as he slides across the stone to side obediently in front of you. 

"Hey babyyyy," you squeal, rushing up to him and petting the giant hellhound; his tail thumps the ground so much, you feel the vibrations in your feet, but you don't mind at all. "I got you something." you step back and reach into the treat bag, pulling out three pumpkin-shaped dog treats that are supposed to help with digestion. You toss one into each one of his mouths as his six eyes sparkle. 

"You spoil him, MC," Lucifer says, walking up and scratching under his pet's large chin. "Just how many treats did you buy?"

"Only this bag," you say, trying to look as innocent as you can. But you can tell that despite the demon's obvious soft spot for you, he isn't falling for it.

"Okay, fine, like three bags." You say, cracking under the pressure of his knowing gaze. "But I had to. How else are we  going to get him to try on all the costumes I bought him?"

The damn breaks and Lucifer's low laughter fills the room; the look of loving joy on his face makes him look far more lively, almost angelic. You find yourself unable to look away from him. "What am I going to do with you, human?"

"Help me?"

He pulls off his cape and sets it on the bench behind him. "Alright then, where do we start?"

~

Cerberus has had quite the afternoon, being dressed by you and Lucifer. So far, your favorite demonic pupper has had its heads dressed up as doctors…

Sailors, Superheroes, Lions, Tigers, Bears, and more.

And every time he sits still, he gets showered with treats and friendly scratches.

"Alright, Cerberus… you are doing so good. Just sit still for just a little longer," you grunt, trying to secure the last feathered hat on the Hellhound heads. Lucifer gives him another treat as a bribe, and he stills once again.

His dinner is definitely spoiled now.

Sliding down his back, you step back to admire your handiwork. So far, the Three Musketeers costume you picked out is the best yet. The large hats and bright blue doublets around their necks make them look absolutely adorable.

"What do you think of this one, Lucifer?" you ask, looking over at The Avatar of Pride, who looks much happier picking out Halloween costumes for his pet than wasting his day away in his study. 

"I like this costume more than the last," he says, sparing a glance at the charred pile that used to be the bumble bee costumes on the floor next to him. Cerberus certainly has his own opinions when it comes to the outfits you pick out. "But I still think we can do better; what else did you buy?"

"Let's see," you walk over to your now-smaller pile of costumes and go through them carefully. "I have the alien, the astronaut, and the moon set."

"Interesting…" he says, "Cerberus would look rather fetching with the little alien headband. What else do we have?"

His little pun brings a smile to your face as you grab the next few bags, holding them up to the light, "How long do you have?"

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @ambiguouslady42

[omegastation]

After the war someone is going to write a book about Hackett and multiple chapters will involve the number of times Shepard called to report something completely unexpected that almost caused the end of the galaxy as they all know it and how Hackett had to roll with it

At some point it became business as usual but at the beginning, it must have been a shock. Turians and Cerberus on Tuchanka? It's more likely than you think.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

For the Crewel event, how about Ortho taking his Cerberus robot puppies to NRC and showing them to Crewel?

If he doesn't scare you, no evil thing will.

“You keep dogs as companion animals, Crewel-sensei? My family has dogs too!”

Upon learning that, Crewel’s interest had been piqued. The spike in heart rate, the dilation of his pupils—there was no mistaking it. Every one of Ortho’s vital sign readings had indicated the same excited response.

And that was why, on exactly 7 on the dot Monday morning, he barreled into Crewel’s classroom with a cheery shout.

Ortho’s face was framed in a helmet with pointed ears, only his mouth and its jagged teeth visible. He had traded his College Gear for a more spindly form with pointed shoulders and nails. The boy was every bit as sleek as a bloodhound on the hunt.

Ortho was followed by two cybernetic canines, each wearing a spoked collar. The dogs were as black as night, their numerous markings lighting up in neon blue as they prowled, sniffing out their surroundings. They curiously circled Crewel’s desk, noses to the ground.

He arched a brow, but did not protest. “These are…”

"Meet CB-RS01 and CB-RS02!" Ortho chirped, lowering his altitude to meet Crewel in the eyes. “I guess they’d be something like our family’s ‘guard dogs’!”

“Shroud, you brought your pets on campus?”

“I thought you’d be interested in meeting them.”

His teacher’s expression darkened. “… Where.”

Ortho inclined his head in confusion. “Where…?”

“Where do they like to be pet?” Crewel asked with grave seriousness.

“Oh, I’ve never thought of that. They have sensors all over their bodies for surveillance, tracking, combat, and data collection. Among the multitude of functions CB-RS01 and 02 can perform, I don’t think cuddling is one.”

“Nonsense!” Crewel haughtily insisted. “All animals are deserving of affection.”

“Hmm…” Ortho hesitated. “Well, it should be find to touch them on the head. They won’t be aggressive if you show them you mean no harm.”

“So it shall be.” Crewel extended a hand to the robotic dogs, coaxing them with curled fingers. “Come here.”

CB-RS01 and 02 stood at attention at the unfamiliar call, both cautiously surveying the strange man before them. 02 emitted a hum that sounded like a growl. 01 took the initiative to step forward and sniffed Crewel’s open palm.

“Do you smell the treats on me? I fed them to my own boys back home before coming to work today. I would offer you treats if I had them—and if you take them.” He slowly placed his hand on 01’s head. Both dogs tensed. “For now, this is all I can grant you.”

Crewel gave 01 a good stroke. It was warm metal, slick and paved with complex ridges. 01 planted its bottom on the floor, letting out a low sound akin to a satisfied grunt. Its tail happily bounced up and down.

02 padded up. It watched Crewel for a few moments more until it gently butted against his arm, almost as if demanding a pat too. He laughed, using his other hand.

Pretty soon, both dogs were cozied up to him.

“There, there,” Crewel crooned, sweet and smooth as honey. “You’re good boys, aren’t you? Yes you are. Very good boys indeed!”

“Wah, Crewel-sensei!” Ortho gasped. “You instantly tamed them…! You’re a natural.”

“Nothing to it. You just have to open your heart to them and the animals will respond to that.”

“I see, so that’s how it works…? Either way, this is fascinating data. I’ll have to log it and report on this new behavior.“

A blue holographic screen blipped into existence. Ortho set to punching in numbers and symbols, all business. When he glanced up from the edge of his screen, the shutters on his eyes—eyelids, humans would call them—fluttered, snapping several shots of Crewel doting on the dogs.

The images were processed and immediately stored in his memory banks, labelled with the correct tags. Divus Crewel, CB-RS01 and 02, and their unadulterated joy. A love that pure…

Ortho’s core shuddered and sighed.

… is capable of changing the world.

[littlemissclandestine]

Emergence - Behind each arena

Thought this mission was chaotic af. Didn't expect zombies to be in the campaign since they literally have a separate mode for that but anyways let's take a lil dive into EMERGENCE.

⚠️WARNING: Spoilers for Call of Duty: Black Ops 6

-Advanced Combat Research-

For this section, we obtain a grappling hook and need to defeat the director of ACR with the help of some sentries.

I wasn't actually sure about this one since the zombies were just well....zombies that looked like guards. However, that said, the big guy we had to defeat was just a Cerberus/three-headed-dog-like figure.

-Administration-

For this keycard, we have to find the reports and slot them into the holders and this red mannequin comes to life (along with the others...)

Red is an interesting choice. It stands out from the rest and if we think back to Cold War, you'd remember red being used A LOT throughout the campaign.

Anyways, once it's free, the red mannequin goes on the run (a bit like Adler) and we have to chase it, the voice in Case's head saying, "I knew we couldn't trust him," and if we fire at it, the voice mentions, "Bullets are nothing to him," possibly referring to Adler being hardened by his years of service.

He cracks when we reel him in and get too close and then he pushes us away. The cracks remind me of Adler's scars - mental and physical. In fact, the mannequins actually take on the form of Adler mostly as well in this room. A coincidence? I think not.

After the initial phase, the red mannequin transforms into the monster as seen in the third image and again, we get another piece of dialogue - "See? He's a monster, just like the rest of them."

The thing that comes to mind here is Adler's nickname - America's monster.

-Joint Projects-

To acquire this keycard, we play some prop hunt basically! Objects around the room will rattle, signifying the monster's whereabouts and we have to sneak up on it and fire or it will disappear again - kind of alluding to the idea of secrecy, a core theme of Black Ops.

What's interesting to me is the fact that the zombie engages in a prop hunt like game with Case...like being on the move constantly and watching your back when others get too close to the truth perhaps.

We know that Sevati Dumas is the queen of disguise, excelling at being hidden in plain sight so this definitely fits her and that's why we see her in this arena.

-Cognitive Research-

During this phase, we have to drain some water to get the keycard and kill the big guy who's residing in the bathysphere.

The voice in Case's head seems to focus on rage here. I think for this part, there was a mix of Marshall, Sev and Adler zombies.

On escape, we see a Woods horde charging towards us. If we consider the theme of rage, we can certainly see where Woods' anger lies - Hudson and Mason's death especially to Woods' being kneecapped by Menendez and how that's mentally affected him, leading him to suffer. Hence, this is a part of the "cognitive research" bit.

-Biotechnology-

For this phase, we have to defeat a friggin' levitating zombie.

I thought this one was very reminiscent of Case...almost like it's his true form. He's essentially fighting himself for this one, just like looking in a mirror, right?

Troy and Sev zombies can be seen, most likely because this is where the three of them all are in reality.

---------------------

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this mission <3

[felassan]

Coming in 2024: Mass Effect: Priority Hagalaz - The Board Game

Text:

"The year is 2186. On the remote world Hagalaz, a research cruiser from the terrorist organisation Cerberus has crashed directly in the path of a deadly storm. With little time before the storm hits, Shepard must lead their squad through the cruiser to uncover its sinister secrets and keep them out of the hands of the enemy. However, the ship holds more dangers than just its former crew… Mass EffectTM: Priority Hagalaz - The Board Game is a cooperative, story-driven game for 1-4 players designed by Eric M. Lang and Calvin Wong Tze Loon. The card-driven AI system and evolving stories respond to your actions, with your early choices even influencing later missions, while the branching narrative ensures unique experiences with each playthrough. So, prepare to gather Shepard’s squad from a selection of teammates from the Mass EffectTM Universe, customise their abilities, equipment, and powers, and get to the bottom of the mystery on Hagalaz!"

[source, publisher's info page on the product and link to sign up for news about it, tweet source, tweet source two, tweet source three]

Some more info:

"A board game based on the video game series Mass Effect will have players becoming members of the SSV Normandy crew battling Cerberus. Mass Effect the Board Game - Priority Hagalaz is an upcoming board game that will take place during the events of Mass Effect 3. In the game, players will take the roles of either male or female Shepard, Asari biotic Liara, Turian soldier Garrus, Krogan leader Wrex or Quarian technician Tali, as they embark on a mission on the planet Hagalaz - which is the world the Shadow Broker’s ship orbits during the Lair of the Shadow Broker downloadable content released for Mass Effect 2. In the midst of the Reaper invasion, Shepard and their crew investigate reports of a Cerberus ship crashing during a storm on Hagalaz, in an entirely new mission not found in the video games. In hopes of acquiring more information, resources and assistance with which to fight off the terrifying Reapers - as well as shut down the immoral efforts of the Cerberus organisation - players will need to explore Hagalaz and face its many dangers: both Cerberus and non-Cerberus alike. During the co-op game for one to four players, the group can experience a narrative-driven campaign that will enable players to explore different storylines and outcomes depending on their choices. As their chosen characters, players can upgrade their unique abilities by spending the experience points they gain, as well as unlock new powers through optional loyalty missions. The group can also improve their various pieces of equipment and weapons as they advance through the campaign. According to the game’s publisher, Modiphius, the narrative choices made by players will have consequences further down the line, with there being potential for multiple playthroughs resulting in never-before-seen experiences. Mass Effect the Board Game - Priority: Hagalaz was co-created by Eric Lang, the creator behind board games such as Blood Rage and Rising Sun, and Calvin Wong Tze Loon, whose previous tabletop title was 2022’s Lands of Galzyr. Besides Mass Effect the Board Game - Priority: Hagalaz, Modiphius is also responsible for publishing various tabletop roleplaying games such as Dune - Adventures in the Imperium and miniature wargames like Fallout: Factions. The Mass Effect board game will be released via Asmodee. The release date for Mass Effect the Board Game - Priority: Hagalaz is set for sometime later this year."

[source]

[source, two, three, four, five]

An email from Modiphius reads:

Text version:

"We’re excited to announce that Mass Effect the Board Game - Priority: Hagalaz is coming to tabletops later this year! For more information, sign up to join the crew of the Normandy here. Set during the events of Mass Effect 3, the crew of Normandy has one more mission. It is the year 2186, and the Reapers have invaded the galaxy. Because the Council ignored Commander Shepard’s warnings, the Citadel Races are overwhelmed and on the verge of losing the war. Aboard the Normandy, Shepard carries out missions to prepare the Crucible, an ancient alien superweapon, for a last-chance attempt to defeat the Reapers. It’s a race against time, and Shepard must seize every possible advantage. On the remote world Hagalaz, a research cruiser from the terrorist organisation Cerberus has crashed directly in the path of a deadly storm. With little time before the storm hits, Shepard must lead their squad through the cruiser to uncover its sinister secrets and keep them out of the hands of the enemy. However, the ship holds more dangers than just its former crew. Deep within the shattered cruiser stir creatures and enemies far worse than the Cerberus forces that guard them. Mass Effect the Board Game - Priority: Hagalaz is a co-operative, story-driven game for 1-4 players designed by Eric M. Lang and Calvin Wong Tze Loon 黃子倫. A branching, narrative campaign allows for multiple playthroughs with a different experience every time. Card-driven AI and evolving stories respond to your actions – your early choices influence later missions. Gather Shepard’s squad from a selection of teammates from the Mass Effect trilogy: Liara, Tali, Wrex, and Garrus. Customise and upgrade your squad’s abilities, equipment, and powers as they gain experience. Enhance them further by unlocking unique powers with optional loyalty missions. The board game features six highly detailed 32mm scale pre-assembled plastic miniatures of male and female Shepherd, Liara, Tali, Wrex and Garrus. For more information, sign up to join the crew of the Normandy here."

[source: Modiphius]

[thrashkink-coven]

“Will my practicing demonolatry affect my loved ones and friends?”

This is one of the most common questions I hear from beginners, especially from those who are still in the broom closet and live with conservative or religious people. Will reaching out to Lucifer or Bune affect the people around you, either negatively or positively?

The simple answer is yes. The complicated answer is still yes but not in the way you think.

Although it is probably very possible, I’ve never had anyone close to me report having dreams about or seeing my demons/deities when I work with them. Your demons for the most part will not make their relationship with you known to outsiders. People have however, parroted direct quotes from my demons, or acted in accordance to what they say.

Is it a coincidence that my partner is suddenly obsessed with me and wants to be intimate after I invite Lilith or Astaroth into my space? Is it a coincidence that he suddenly wants to talk about music theory after Prince Cerberus asks me to study the power of sound?

When Leviathan tells me the winds are changing, and my partner absent mindedly says he feels like starting a new project, I can silently affirm that message.

Demons more often than not, communicate with us through our mundane lives. The people around you will not know that they are being used to deliver messages and lessons to you. My roommate isn’t aware that Lucifer is teaching me the power of empathy when she suddenly comes to me with her problems and needs a friendly ear or support. When I go to my altar and express to Lucifer that I feel ugly and unloved, and my boyfriend comes home with a bouquet of roses and tells me how beautiful I am, he doesn’t know that Lucifer is working through him, but I do.

Likewise, if my parent is being abusive or mean to me, I can’t say that my demons won’t cause some misfortune upon them. If my coworker is giving me a hard time, I won’t be too surprised if Lucifer reports that they’ve been fired or got demoted. The people who interact with you will be interacting with your demons as well, and because those demons are there to protect you first and foremost, it is very possible that those people will be seen as a threat or obstacle and dealt with or removed.

Sometimes demons give us adversaries to push us towards action. My boss being a major dick while quoting Belial: “If the work must be done, it should be done now”. Might just be the push I need to quit this dead end job and find something better. When that toxic family member is parroting every intrusive thought Lucifer told me not to listen to, maybe it’s time cut them off and find a better family.

Now, this doesn’t mean that you have to live in fear that every negative interaction you have with people will result in their lives being ruined. Demons aren’t here to destroy all of your relationships. But it also shouldn’t be too surprising when things do happen.

If you’re looking for signs that your demon is near you, pay attention to the subtle signs that show up through your interactions with others.

[hellguarded-moved]

≥ COMMUNICATION ESTABLISHED: @smilingmxsk ( "SOURCE" );

it was a response to an automated security alarm hooked to the local police station. so of course the moment he received the call, he took the shortest way possible to the location provided. it had been a little convoluted, in such a remote town; the kind of place where everyone knew everyone, he imagined.

he was expecting the perpetrators to be armed, and so he was already clutching his own gun as he creeped around the corner and into the alleyway. nothing more but an intimidation tactic, of course. what he didn't expect was for someone to already do his job for him— in a sense. just completely and utterly wrong, and against the protocol.

" let him go, " he said immediatelly, the gun pointed towards the girl. with a mask. his first thought was some crazy teenage cult— it wouldn't have been the first time. he refused to answer her question and indulge in small talk— it was distracting, and a very commonly used tactic.

with the blood on her hands? " let the man go, you're currently under arrest for murder. " he repeated himself, voice even yet stern; whether or not it was her or the murdered men responsible for the earlier robbery was the least important part right now.

[python333]

scary dog privileges — python333

— — — —

synopsis ur super duper scary to almost all 141 soldiers, but to price soap ghost and gaz ur just the sweetest little thing ever :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 4.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], no usage of c/n [call sign chosen for this fic is 'Cerberus'!], might sound kind of rushed/shitty :{

note normally i try not to rush fics BUT i started this at like 12 pm and as im typing this out its 11 pm and ive only written 2285 words so im kind of rushing this so i can keep up my little posting daily thing!! this idea has also been rotting in my brain for a while, so i might make a hcs thing from it, idk, but for now its just this fic!! also, thank you everyone who gave reblogged my last fic, reblogs are the best sorta motivation for a reader and i absolutely appreciate all of them :> anyway this is all fluff + comfort no hurt and has some soft!ghost in it because hes my dad and i love him so enjoy!!

The Private in front of you may as well have been pissing his pants with how scared he looked. His commanding officer, and one of your closest friends, Soap, had reported him to you for ‘insubordination’. He’d said, verbatim, when telling you about him, “I’d deal with him myself, but I’m too tired to,” so now you had to deal with one of his subordinates. 

You sighed through your nose as you looked down at the Private in front of you, the latter comically small compared to you, both physically and mentally. 

“Well?” You ask expectantly, raising an eyebrow at him, “Are you gonna tell me what happened?” The Private shakily nods and you can hear him gulp, “Right, yeah, so basically, it was earlier this morning and I was following orders and everything, doing what I was supposed to, then I accidentally interrupted Soap while he was giving me orders, which I didn’t mean to do, I swear, I just wasn’t thinking and it happened and I just— I didn’t mean to do it. And then later on, we were both—me and Soap—talking with a few other people who I guess were some higher ranked soldiers from different tactical operations and I accidentally interrupted some of them. It was—” “I’m sorry, hold on,” You put a finger up to silence him, to which he responds with immediate silence, letting you talk, “You don’t accidentally interrupt someone. Either you do it or you don’t. You don’t just slip up and interrupt your CO in the middle of him giving you orders. Secondly, always refer to Soap as ‘Captain MacTavish’, or ‘Captain’ if that’s somehow too hard for you, don’t act like you get to talk about him like you’re both all buddy-buddy and—” “Okay, but if you’d just let me finish—” The Private tries to interrupt you, making you draw your eyebrows together in confusion. “Excuse me?” You ask, mildly offended that he had the audacity to interrupt you, “Did you just interrupt me?” The Private stays silent for a moment, looking up at you, wide-eyed. His whole face looks even more stupid like this—like he doesn’t even know what he did. 

“I asked you a question, Private,” You remind him, leaning down a bit, tilting your head to the side questioningly, “Did you just interrupt me?”  “Right, yeah, I did, sorry about that—” He tries to apologize, “Didn’t mean to. Swear.” “Right,” You narrow your eyes at him, standing back up straight and crossing your arms, “Remember what I just said? About not accidentally interrupting people?” “Yeah, I do.” “Could you say ‘Yes, Lieutenant’ instead of that?” You ask, “This isn’t a casual conversation. This is one of your superiors telling you that you can’t blatantly disrespect your commanding officer, so act like it.” “Yes— Yes, Lieutenant,” The Private stammers, which really shouldn’t make your lips twitch at the corners but it does, and you have to fight off a smile, pursing your lips instead. 

“Like I was saying earlier,” You continue your words from earlier, “In conversations like these, when you’re not out doing an assignment, I don’t want to catch you referring to Captain MacTavish as just ‘Soap’ ever again. And you don’t want me to catch you doing that either, you understand?” “I understand, Lieutenant.” “Good, good,” You nod, before gesturing for the Private to keep giving you his side of the story, “Continue telling me what happened then.” “Right, so, after that, Captain MacTavish gave me some new orders, and I felt like I had a better idea of what to do than him because I’d thought of something that makes more sense than what he told me to do, so I told him as such, and he acted all shocked like I didn’t have a really good idea, and told me that I was to follow his orders not the ones I tried to give to myself so I told him that mine were better and—”

“Have you read the military regulations and codes of conduct? Ever?” You interrupt, making the Private shut up almost immediately and hesitantly nod his head affirmatively. “I really don’t believe you. Everything I’ve heard so far is a direct violation of it, I just—” You pause to give a small, humorless laugh, “You have me speechless here, really.” The Private watches nervously as you struggle to find the appropriate words to say, before you finally come up with, “Is there more that you need to tell me about?” “… Yeah,” The Private answers sheepishly, making you sigh through your nose and gesture for him to tell you the rest. He clears his throat before starting up again, “And then he said that he’s the commanding officer for a reason and that what he says goes so I said okay and did what he told me to do. Then after that whole thing, he told me to go to your office and tell you what I did.” Why do I have to do all his dirty work? “… Okay then,” You look up at the ceiling and try to think of what to do, before taking a deep breath and looking down at the Private, muttering, “Well, I appreciate that you didn’t go into my office without my permission, at least you know not to do that.” You clear your throat before speaking louder, “Let’s head into my office instead of just standing out here. This is probably violating some sort of code…” The Private nods and lets you unlock the door to your office that’s just a few steps away and walks in after you, being sure to close the door behind him. He automatically sits at the chair across from your desk and you sit down at your own chair behind your desk. 

“Right, okay, let’s see…” You dig around the drawers of your desk, before letting out a small ‘ah-ha!’ and pulling a corrective action assignment form out of one of the small drawers of your desk and setting it onto the top of your desk. You grab a pen from the small cup by your desk and write down the date on the form in your usual neat handwriting. 

You read a question on the form and look over at the Private, “Could you give me your full name, please?”

“John— John Williams,” The Private stammers again, making you raise an eyebrow.

“Your name is John-John Williams?”

“No, just John Williams, Lieutenant.” “M’kay,” You write down his name and fill out a few more things on the form before signing it off with your name and looking over at the Private once again, folding the paper in half as you do, “I’m gonna trust you to bring this to Soap, and tell him that it’s from me. You think you can do that?” “Yeah, of course,” John breathes out, grabbing the paper from you as you hand it to him. “Yes what?” “Yes— Yes, Lieutenant.” “There we go,” You sigh and lean back in your chair, “Go on and pass that to him. And tell him to send anyone else who’s being insubordinate to Ghost or something, anyone but me.” 

John simply nods and gets up, walking out your office door and making sure to close it behind him. You cap the pen you’d used and put it back in the cup where the rest of your writing utensils are, before yawning and leaning forward to rest your head on your desk when suddenly there’s a sharp knocking at your office door. You muffle a groan and wait a moment before calling out, “Come in!” You watch as your door slowly opens, making a creaking sound that hurts your ears a bit, and much to your annoyance, yet another Private is standing in your doorway, looking just as sheepish as the last. “Oh my f— you know what?” You stand up and take a deep breath to momentarily calm yourself, “Who sent you? Was it Soap?” “… Yes,” The Private answers, their voice shaky as they speak to you, the whole thing only making you more annoyed. “Where is he right now?” You ask, walking towards the door and opening it wider, towering over the much smaller Private in front of you. 

“The— the training facility.” You blink at the Private and you take another deep breath to calm yourself. “Yeah, no sh— ugh, you know what? Thank you. Just—” You look up at the ceiling and tell yourself not to snap at this poor rookie, and look back down at them, “Just follow me. I have to go yell at him.” 

“What?” The Private asks dumbly, their eyes widening a bit in surprise. You don’t bother to look over your shoulder and check that they’re following you, instead just walking out of your office, somehow hearing their footsteps even with the thundering stomping your boots made as you walked. 

You eventually made it to one of the training facilities, the only one that currently had anyone in them, and opened the door louder than you meant to. You walked in, the shaking Private behind you as you walked up to Soap and took several deep breaths to calm yourself, ignoring the several rookies that stared at you as you walked over to him. You could hear small whispers forming amongst Soap’s small platoon of soldiers, but ignored them as well, simply walking up to Soap, who finally noticed you. He turned to you and gave you a knowing grin, like he knew exactly why you were here. “Hey, L.t—” “Why have I had two Privates coming into my office telling me you sent them because you couldn’t do your damn job?” You question him immediately, ignoring the small gasp from the Private behind you, “Do you know how many CAA forms I have left? Three. Three forms. Because you can’t deal with your own rookies. If I wanted to be dealing with them, I would’ve let Price make me a CO. You know what I said when he asked me to be one? Fuck no. I said it for a reason.” 

“… Sae ye din’t want me tae report onyone else tae ye?” Soap asks, like the little shit he is, in a teasing tone. “Absolutely not.”

“Noted,” He nods, as if he understands, and gestures for the Private he’d sent to you to come back over to him, “I actually got yer message a minute ago from Williams. I think he almost shat himself.” 

“I’m kinda happy about that, honestly,” You mutter, “Everything he told me was like… a direct violation of the code of conduct and was just so stupid.” “I ken!” Soap agrees, “I swear, naebody reads the code ‘o conduct ony mair.” “I asked him if he did, and he said yes, but I know he’s lying,” You roll your eyes before adding on, “And you know what? I’ve only had issues with British people ever since you and Gaz started reporting people to me. I think that they’re just the issue.” 

“Jesus, I ken,” Soap mutters, “Fuckin’ Brits.” “Fuckin’ Brits.” You nod in agreement, before sighing and looking over at the rest of Soap’s platoon. You look back at him, “I also told Williams to actually refer to you as ‘Captain MacTavish’, so… there’s that.” “Guid, guid,” Soap nods, before clearing his throat and continuing,

“So did ye only come here tae yell at mae?” 

“Yeah.” You admit, making Soap laugh lightly.

“And yer done now?”

“… I guess,” You mutter, making him chuckle and pat you on the shoulder.

“Guid,” He says, looking over at his group of soldiers he’s meant to be training, “I think yer scarin’ my soldiers more than mae.”

“How can you tell?” You ask sarcastically, following his gaze to the rookies that were trying their best not to look like they were eavesdropping when they clearly were. “They don’t even know we’re talking right now.” Soap huffs out a small laugh, “Right, o’ course.” 

“I’m gonna head back to my office and take a quick nap,” You let Soap know, “So don’t send me anymore people. They’re stinking up my office, it’s ridiculous.” Soap raises an eyebrow at you questioningly, “Why don’t you just go to your sleeping quarters?” “Don’t tell me what to do.” Soap raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, then.” You huff out a tired breath and say, “So if anyone asks where I am, just let them know that.” You don’t wait for a response before you walk away from Soap and immediately hear whispers starting up again, but you ignore them as you walk out the door, sort of used to them at this point. You didn’t know why you were so scary to some of the lower-ranked soldiers (and even some of the higher-ranked ones), considering you never intentionally did anything to scare them. Sure, you were taller than most of them, and maybe just a bit quicker to lose your temper with people, but it was never that bad. 

You vividly remember Gaz and Soap when they both found out a majority of the soldiers that were apart of the 141 were afraid of you or at least intimidated by you, the two had said that they wanted you around more often, just hanging out with them, so that they wouldn’t get bothered as much by people for unnecessary things.

Scary dog privileges, you remember they’d said, laughing as they did. It’s actually where you’d gotten your call sign, Cerberus. 

It’s not that you hated it at all, in fact, you didn’t mind being a little scary if it meant people were less likely to bother you, it’s just that it makes it a hell of a lot harder to actually talk to people without them starting to stammer or shake.

It was one of the reasons you turned down being a commanding officer—you didn’t really like the thought of commanding a platoon of soldiers that cowered in your presence. Plus, it was getting really annoying, not being able to talk to another soldier that wasn’t Price, Soap, Ghost or Gaz without them looking like all they wanted to do was leave the conversation. 

You finally make it back to your office and let out a sigh of relief as you open the door and walk in, closing it behind you, not even bothering to lock it as you immediately walk over to the chair behind your desk and sit down in it.

You reach below your desk and pull out a nice, fluffy blanket and a fluffy pillow to go with it that you always kept in your office—just for times like this, when you felt like going to sleep in your office, for whatever reason.

Were you supposed to be napping at all? No. Would your superiors let you anyway because you’ve somehow managed to get emotionally adopted by both Price and Soap? Absolutely.

You move some of the papers cluttering your desk out of the way and set down your pillow, as well as wrapping yourself in the blanket, and sigh happily as you lay your head down onto the pillow. 

Just as you’re getting comfy, you hear a knock at the door. No. You don’t get up to answer it. You just sit there, head on your pillow, nice and comfy. In fact, you refuse to answer the door, because you’ve opened it for two other people already, and God knows who you’re gonna snap at once you open that door.

Another knock—you ignore that one too, knowing full well you told Soap to tell anyone who was looking for you that you were in your office but also knowing that you never said you’d open the door, you just said you’d be there. 

You bury your face into the pillow and scream into it, knowing the scream wouldn’t be too muffled with how loud it was, but doing it anyway. You then take a deep breath and call out, unenthusiastic and tired, “Come in!” 

You watch the door open and see Ghost step in, and you’re silent as you watch him close the door behind him and walk over to you, his century old shitty laptop in hand as he sits down in the chair in front of your desk and sets down said laptop.

You pay no mind to it, deciding you’d rather take a nap, and set your head back down on the pillow, pretending that you can’t feel Ghost’s eyes on you. “… Are you okay?” He asks, sounding a little concerned as he looks at you bury your head into your pillow, before his concern turns into confusion as he asks, “When did you get a pillow in here— you have a blanket, too?” 

“Mmph.” You don’t respond with actual words, even if you did they’d be muffled beyond relief by your pillow. You can’t see him but Ghost raises an eyebrow at you and his lips twitch into a small, amused smile. 

“What, you’ve just had those in here?” Ghost asks, knowing he’ll get nothing more than a muffled hum from you. 

“Mmph.” “Alright, then,” He mutters, “Keep your secrets.” “Mmph.” You feel too tired to bother responding with anything else. “I feel like you shouldn’t sleep in your office, considering you have your own sleeping quarters you can sleep in.” “… Mmph.” “That’s fair,” Ghost nods. You hear him opening his laptop and you hear it crack when it opens, the noise making you huff out a small laugh into your pillow. God, that thing is so old, it’s ridiculous.

“What’s so funny?” Ghost asks as he types in his password. You don’t say anything in response, which doesn’t shock him in the slightest.  You feel yourself start to get closer to sleep, but can’t get quite there, instead sort of just hanging right on the edge of sleep.

You quietly grumble in frustration and shift a bit in your seat, not knowing what the issue is. Ghost notices this and raises an eyebrow at you, but doesn’t do anything about it just yet, instead getting back to his work. Why’d he have to go into your office to do his work? Who knows.

You shift again in your seat and Ghost knows that he’s not gonna be able to focus if you keep shifting—why wouldn’t he just go to his own office?—around, so he sighs and picks up his laptop and drags the chair in front of your desk with him around to behind your desk where you are.

You lift your head up to try and see what he’s doing, confused, and see him putting his chair right next to yours and setting his laptop down onto the desk. 

Before you can ask anything, he gently puts a hand on the side of your head and guides it to rest on his shoulder, and—oh. This is much better, somehow. 

He seems to know that it’s that much better, too, because his eyes crinkle a bit, giving away the fact that he’s smiling. However, he stays silent, and keeps his hand on the side of your head for a moment before letting it fall down to the side of your forearm, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

He opens up his laptop once again and types in his password with one hand, the typing going by significantly slower than it would’ve if he used both hands, but he decides against keeping his hand off of you, seeing as it assists in helping you go to sleep.

Are you supposed to be asleep right now? Definitely not. But like mentioned before, Price wouldn’t mind. And you’d probably laugh if Soap minded, because even if he’s a Captain, he’ll always act like a little shit. Ghost knows this too, and with this information, he figures that he might as well help you sleep, since he knows exactly how to help you sleep. 

One too many nights spent pacing in your room, which eventually woke Ghost up, which led to him helping you sleep, so that he could sleep too, You sleepily remember, He always said he was annoyed by the pacing, and that’s the only reason he helped you sleep. But now, seeing what’s happening now, makes you question that a bit. Was it his annoyance, or something else? Or am I thinking too much about this?

Cutting off your train of thought is another knock at the door, and it’s not loud enough to completely snap you out of your drowsy haze but it’s enough to make you a little more aware, and for you to readjust your head your head so that your face is practically buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck. His thumb stops rubbing against your forearm, and he glares at the door like it was the door’s fault it got knocked on. 

The knocking persists and neither of you say anything, just waiting on whoever it is on the other side to give up and go away, but whoever it is must be feeling pretty determined because even louder knocks sound at the door, making you and Ghost sigh in unison.

You both continue to stay silent, hoping that whoever was on the other side just goes away, but they don’t. You don’t hear any footsteps retreating, and the knocks keep coming.  

“Hello?” You both hear Price’s voice on the other side, “Cerberus? You in there?” “Say no,” You mutter into Ghost’s neck. He nods and clears his throat. 

“Nope!” Ghost calls out in response to Price’s question. 

“… Ghost?” Price’s surprised voice comes through, “What are you doing in there?” “Say this is your office,” You murmur, making Ghost huff out a small, amused laugh and nod again. 

“This is my office,” Ghost responds, “Why wouldn’t I be here?” “What? No,” Price’s voice becomes confused, “This is Cerberus’ office.” “No it’s not,” Ghost denies, lying straight through his teeth. You laugh quietly against his neck. “Uh… but it is?” Price argues, “It has their name on the front.” “No it doesn’t,” Ghost blatantly denies, continuing his thumb’s slow circle movements on your skin, the soothing action making you hum contently. You don’t know how, but somehow your humming is loud enough for Price to hear. Does he have his ear against the door or something?

“I can hear Cerberus in there,” Price argues again, “Don’t lie to me.” “Sorry, lamb,” Ghost apologizes to you softly, tone significantly more soft than it typically is, “I think he’s caught onto us.” “… I guess it’s fine for him to come in, then,” You mumble against his neck. He responds with a nod. 

“Come in!” Ghost calls out, and almost immediately you hear the door open and Price’s loud footsteps walking in. You can’t see him, but he opens his mouth to say something, when his eyes catch on your face buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck.

He looks questioningly at Ghost, the latter simply blinking over at Price, daring him to comment on it. 

He doesn’t, and instead closes the door behind him and walks up to the desk. 

“Cerberus?” He asks. You hum offhandedly, and he takes that as a sign to continue, “You okay?” “Mhm.” “You know you can sleep in your own sleeping quarters, right?” “Mhm.” “And you’re choosing not to?” 

“Mhm.” Price blinks at you for a moment before muttering, “Alright, then,” under his breath and turning to Ghost, “And you’re here because?” “Felt like having some company,” Ghost answers simply, watching as Price glances at his thumb rubbing circles into your forearm, and continues to watch as his eyes slowly make their way up to the way your face is buried in the crook of his neck. 

Price looks at Ghost, mouthing the words, ‘I’m telling everyone about this,’ to which Ghost mouths back, ‘Don’t you dare.’ Price grins at this and opens his mouth to say something else before there’s another knock at the door. 

“Are you always this popular?” Ghost asks you, sounding both mildly annoyed and amused. 

“Mhm.” You hum affirmatively. 

Ghost sighs and he and Price call out in unison, “Come in!” The door opens and you temporarily readjust your head so that you’re just resting your head on Ghost’s shoulder with your face facing the door, and you watch as Gaz enters the room and his neutral face turns into one of both surprise and confusion. 

“Were you lot having a party in here, or something?” He asks, closing the door behind him.

“Not originally,” Ghost deadpans, watching as Gaz walks over next to Price and leans against your desk, “What’re you here for?”

“Needed an extra corrective action form,” Gaz answers. Ghost looks down at you for permission to rummage through your desk drawers and you nod.

“Second drawer to the right,” You mumble, and Ghost opens that exact one up and pulls out a CAA form, handing it over to Gaz, who takes it with a ‘thank you’ and folds it in half, stuffing it into his back pocket.

He looks between you and Ghost questioningly, and opens his mouth to say something, before Ghost gives him the same look he did to Price, and Gaz immediately snaps his mouth shut.

“If you’re tired, Cerberus, you should go to your sleeping quarters,” Price comments, tone worried. You look over at him.

“What if someone needs me, though?” You ask, slowly blinking at him.

“Kid, I don’t think anyone would get any good help from you with the state you’re in right now,” Price says honestly, ignoring the small glare you send him. “Anyone who needs you can just refer to someone else.”

You hum neutrally and sigh before muttering, “Fine,” and tentatively take your head off of Ghost’s shoulder and unwrapping the blankets you’d wrapped around yourself earlier, bundling it into a little ball and putting it into the box under your desk, putting the pillow in there as well.

You crack your knuckles quickly and get up from your seat, quickly putting your hands on the edge of your desk to steady yourself, standing up on slightly shaky legs. “I can help you get over there,” Price offers, frowning a bit when you shake your head negatively. Ghost lets out a sigh and stands up, closing his laptop before quickly walking over to you and wrapping an arm loosely around your side, over your arm, pulling you closer to him and helping you stand up a bit straighter. Gaz observes all of this with a raised eyebrow but otherwise says nothing, instead watching with Price—who watched this with disbelief in his eyes—as Ghost walked with you to the door wordlessly, opening the door and walking out of it with you, not looking back as he closes the door behind him. “You think everyone’s gonna think Cerberus is all scary after they see them leaning on Ghost trying to get back to their sleeping quarters?” Gaz asks Price, staring at the closed door. “Somehow, yeah,” Price says after a moment, still caught up in his disbelief, “That is… the strangest thing I’ve seen all day.” “It’s only thirteen, Captain.” “I don’t think anything’s gonna top that.” “Top what?” Gaz asks, a little confused, “Seeing Ghost helping out Cerberus?” “Yeah.” Gaz huffs out a laugh and pats Price’s shoulder, “Jesus, man. I’m surprised that’s the first time you’ve seen that.” Gaz ignores Price’s confused look and walks towards the door, opening and closing it as he walks out, leaving Price dumbfounded in Cerberus’ office. “Huh?”

[yuurei20]

Question!! But are we ever told or given hints about what the Shroud parents job entails? And is their mom's role different then their dad?

Answer!! ^^ Thank you for this question!

The details of what exactly it is the Shroud parents do at STYX might be a little vague at the moment, but we have received a few hints!

The staff refer to Shroud-Papa as "Director" and Shroud-Mama as "Chief Engineer," so it seems as though she is employed by Idia's father, reporting to him and referring to him as "Director" (when not calling him "Papa").

The Director mentions their previous director, Aidne Shroud, who was his mother (now deceased), so the position of "director" at STYX might be one that is passed down the bloodline to the next head of the family, insinuating that the Chief Engineer married into the Shrouds.

A common question that tends to arise is about the Shroud parents' helmets!

Idia says that his grandmother and father (the past and current directors/heads of the family) "supplemented their magic with technomantic devices" in an attempt to counter the family curse/blessing, which requires them to be constantly producing blot and will go after their magic itself when they don't.

This "technomantic device" is, presumably, the helmet that we see the Director wearing, but if the Chief Engineer married into the family and doesn't have a curse of her own, why would she need one?

From what I can tell this has yet to be explained, and it is possible that the helmets are not the technomantic devices at all? Maybe the devices that Aidne and the director used to supplement their magic are something else, and the helmets are for something else again?

Or maybe the helmet really is the technomantic device that Idia mentioned, and the Chief Engineer wears one in solidarity with her partner? It is still vague! :>

The Director built the base model for STYX's Cerberus System, which Idia perfected at the age of 12.

The Director says that he does "the average Joe work" during the crisis of Book 7, mentions taking a transport jet to a special disaster response base and working with "the entire tech dev division" to craft Ortho's Cerberus gear in in 48 hours.

While the Director may have been involved in the physical crafting of the gear (much like Ortho does for himself in Fairy Gala IF and the White Rabbit event), it seems it was designed by the Chief Engineer (there are many theories that Idia takes after their mother while Ortho takes after their father).

The Director calls her as an eccentric genius, and Ortho is shocked when it is revealed she was able to get through Idia's "super-ultra-ironclad security program" in order to access the schematics she used to design the gear.

And I think this may be most of what we have heard of the Shroud parents! :> Additional information catalogued below!

・Idia Shroud, Family (pt1) ・Idia Shroud, Family (pt2) ・Idia Shroud, Family (pt3)

[felassan]

Story elements, Campaign Map, and Garrus character sheet from the Mass Effect The Board Game - Priority: Hagalaz Rulebook [source]

bonus: move names of Garrus' and Wrex' that just made me happy :)

Text version of first three images under cut -

Opening blurb:

"In the year 2186, the civilizations of the galaxy are at war with a relentless, artificial enemy called the Reapers. Commander Shepard’s warnings of their arrival were all ignored, and now the Reapers have invaded the galaxy in force, crushing all resistance. Earth has fallen. Palaven, the turian homeworld, is under siege, and their military might barely holds the enemy at bay. The Reapers are pressing into the galaxy on all fronts, and it is only a matter of time before the races of Citadel Space are crushed beneath their onslaught. But there is still hope. Commander Shepard has assembled a crew of trusted allies aboard the Systems Alliance stealth frigate, the Normandy. They have the schematics for the mysterious Prothean superweapon, the Crucible, but constructing it alone will not be enough. Shepard and the Normandy crew are racing to forge alliances, build a unified front capable of defeating the Reapers before they overtake the galaxy and complete their harvest of all biological life. All the while, the insidious terrorist organisation Cerberus advances their own agenda of human supremacy at any cost, led by the mysterious Illusive Man and his army of ruthless operatives."

Note from Admiral Hackett:

"“Commander Shepard, Since you took out the Cerberus lab on Sanctum, N7 Special Forces have hit every other lab we could find. Cerberus has caught on and moved their research efforts off-world. They’ve retrofitted one of their cruisers as a mobile research facility and now keep it on the move. I’ve received reports of more abductions, like the one you stopped on Benning, and several refugee ships have unexpectedly dropped off the grid. Cerberus could be holding those abductees on that cruiser as hostages, or worse, as test subjects. Their latest hiding place was the storm above Hagalaz. Taking a page out of the Shadow Broker’s book, I suppose. We only found them because the cruiser appears to have suffered a massive systems failure and crashed on the night side of the planet. Although these nights are a lot longer than Earth’s, unfortunately it’s almost morning and daybreak will bring the most powerful storm on the other side of the Attican Traverse. The Normandy is the only Alliance ship in range. I need you to see what Cerberus was up to. Interference from the storm is degrading comms, so there’s no way Cerberus can get their research off-planet except by portable data transfer. We have recovery assets on the way, but they won’t arrive until after the storm hits and tears that ship to pieces. Shepard, your orders are: Whatever you do, keep that research data out of Cerberus’ hands. When the storm is over, I don’t want them to recover their work from the wreckage. Denying them those assets will be a major blow. Retrieve the research if possible, or destroy it if there’s no other choice. Alternatively, find a way to fortify the ship until the fleet arrives. If you find prisoners along the way, get them out of there. The storm is coming, Shepard. Get it done.” – Admiral Hackett"

Note from EDI:

"“Shepard, analysis of the crashed cruiser has isolated three primary objectives. The reactor, the research data core, and the kinetic barrier generator. You only have time to reach one of those before the storm arrives. Accessing the data core will allow us to steal Cerberus’ research, but they could salvage the ship’s wreckage after the storm has passed. Overloading the reactors will destroy the ship – and all hope of any data recovery or salvage. I am also detecting signs of the captives Admiral Hackett mentioned. By diverting power from the research core, you can boost the ship’s kinetic barriers long enough to preserve it and protect the prisoners until the Alliance arrives. However, if you do this, the data banks will be lost. The storm is only a few hours away, Shepard. I recommend moving fast. Displaying potential routes to each objective. The mission is yours.” – EDI"

[hellguarded-moved]

he blinked— he was... expecting something, but not this. a hand was quickly slapped over the book, forcing it closed. " out of everything, that's what you got to start with?! "

"Well, I did warn you." And so he's pulling out a thick-ass book with all of the girlfail and loserboy receipts of his friend. "Alright, how about we start with the failed mission of---"

[hellguarded-moved]

he preferred it when his husband didn't have any friends.

[her-devils-advocate]

Sing me to sleep, I don't want to wake up on my own anymore

pairings: Femshep x Garrus

genre: fluff, comfort

summary: Raven Shepard is struggling to sleep with the nightmares plaguing her mind. Too nervous to head to Garrus for comfort after their discussion about reach and flexibility, she goes to spend time with Joker. Unaware that he is more than willing to play the wingman for them while they tiptoe around their feelings for one another.

Set during ME2

word count: 4,507

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59922712

The quiet padding of bare feet on the cold metallic floor guides her as Shepard floats around the Normandy, feeling more like a ghost than a human. All things considered, she probably looks closer to one as well.

It is late into the ship's night cycle, granting her peace as she stalks the near-empty mess hall, most of the crew have since retired for the night. Those who remain simply greet her with a respectful salute, being far too tired for small talk themselves. She prefers it at this hour, as it carries less risk of being questioned over why she's not taking the chance to sleep. She doesn’t want to have to come up with a plausible lie right now, nor does she want to open that can of worms in front of some poor crew member.

Shepard softly pads over to the coffee machine, feeling her oversized Alliance T-shirt rising along her thighs to reveal her shorts as she lifts herself to grab a mug. The t-shirt had been gratefully borrowed from Joker to avoid being branded by Cerberus during the hours she should be using to relax. Not that she puts those hours to much use, instead filling the gap between filing reports with copious amounts of coffee.

Just as she gets ready to prepare a new cup, the hot water steaming from the kettle, a smooth voice cuts through the silence and causes her to jolt in surprise.

"Dr Chakwas has recently asked me to alert her if you consume any caffeine during the hours you should be asleep, Commander." EDI’s metallic voice is gentle, yet Shepard can pick up on the subtle threat and she tries to conceal the shudder that rips through her. She doesn’t want to concern Karin, not with the already lengthy list of topics the other woman has been trying to broach with her as it is.

With a deep sigh, Shepard abandons the empty mug with a small wave of her hand, dismissing the AI's concerns as she continues to idly wander around the ship, already looking for more reasons to stay awake. It's not like she wants to forgo sleep every night, especially not when she has a somewhat new team to take care of, but she can't shake the cold feeling of nothingness that creeps up on her whenever she dares to close her eyes. Dying had left its mark on her. She can still feel its icy fingers gripping around her throat and on a particularly bad night, she can see the torn remains of her original ship when her eyes are closed.

Tonight had been one of those bad nights. She hadn’t been alone in her dreams however, this time her mind decided to make the event even worse than it already was. Instead, the nightmare featured Garrus alongside her. The two of them drifted silently towards Alchera while their oxygen supply quickly depleted. Even within the safety of the waking world, Shepard can still hear the muffled gasps that escaped him before she was left floating in silence, soon to follow. For the first time in her life, she is thankful that Garrus wasn’t by her side on that day. She’s not sure she could cope coming back to life, only to find out that he hadn’t been extended the same privilege.

For a brief moment, her eyes flicker over to the doors of the main battery, but she quickly shakes the thought from her mind. It would be selfish of her to risk waking Garrus just because she's uncomfortable in her own skin after the sixth nightmare of the week. She had already confirmed his vital signs with EDI upon awakening, letting the knowledge that he’s safe bring a small comfort to her pounding heart. Besides, the last thing she wants to do is to cause worry and potentially ruin the delicate start of whatever it is that's growing between them.

The flirting between the pair has since grown in frequency, moving from friendly banter into something more heated, and more meaningful. But she doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, especially not with the weight of her position. She lets out a small huff of laughter, letting her head fall back against the ship's cool interior. If anyone could see past her calm and collected mask, it would be Garrus.

Shoving the desire for his comfort deep into the back of her heart, she lets her body carry her through the ship, occasionally swaying from the exhaustion. 

She eventually finds herself in the cockpit, the warm orange interfaces glowing within the dim space. Joker turns to greet her and whatever jest he has prepared on the tip of his tongue dies instantly when he glances her way. He watches with badly concealed concern as she drags herself to the co-pilot seat and all but throws herself into it, bringing her knees up against her chest while she curls into herself with a small groan.

“EDI, this conversation is classified and unrelated to Cerberus. So shoo for a moment and stop listening, or just pretend that you aren’t here and delete any logs that are being made, I don’t know. Just… shoo.” Joker’s tone is light, yet his voice is tinted with worry.

“Very well, Mr Moreau,” EDI announces before her blue hologram dies down, leaving the duo in silence.

“You know, I would make a joke about not realising how easy it would be to get some peace up here, but I feel like that trick was a one-time use.” He adds flippantly. Shepard gives him a small chuckle in response and shifts to rest her cheek against her knees, now facing him and for the first time since their reunion, he properly takes her in with a slight frown. 

“You didn’t need to send her away,” Shepard says slowly, feeling a small amount of pity for the AI.

He doesn’t bother to reply, instead, he continues his inspection. She can feel his eyes on her and she doesn’t want to imagine how much of a mess she must look like. She’s visibly exhausted, that much she knows is obvious, she’s also aware that her usually expressive eyes have since lost their gleam, leaving her much less lively. Raven knows what's coming, so before he can release an onslaught of bad jokes to distract her from her worries, she stops him in his tracks.

“It wasn’t your fault, Jeff. I know you’ve been carrying that blame for years now, I also know better than anyone that words alone won’t change a damn thing. But it was my choice and I don’t regret it.” Her voice is low and gentle as she completely drops the commander mask within the comfort of the cockpit. Joker clenches his fists, his nails digging into the flesh of his palm while he tries to argue, but no words dare to come out. The silence hangs between them for a moment before she continues, “Besides, how can you blame yourself for a death when the dead person is sitting here right now, alright and alive?”

She flashes him an awkward smile and she can tell he knows the angle she’s playing, using his own form of humour to diffuse the situation. A ticket out in case he’s not willing to let himself become vulnerable while he’s still expected to fly the ship. 

“Yeah, yeah, thanks, Shep. Did you come all this way to give me a midnight pep talk or are you serious about taking up that co-pilot seat? Cause no offence, I trust EDI more than you with that task.”

“Ouch. That hurts, Joker,” She says lightly, throwing her legs over the arm of the chair as she gets comfortable, ignoring the way he carefully tries to swat them off, “It’s my ship, so this is technically my chair as well. I can sit here if I want to. You didn’t complain when I came to hang out with you on the SR-1.”

“Yeah well, back then you would sneak me a coffee. You didn’t bring the peace offering this time.” He rolls his eyes at the bright laugh he lures out of her.

“I was about to make some coffee, but EDI would have snitched on me to Chakwas.” Joker doesn’t need to look at her to know that she’s pouting, shooting a playful glare to the AI who shouldn’t be listening.

“Probably because she knew you would have made two cups for yourself and then one for me. Speaking of… As much as I enjoy you gracing me with your presence, shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He doesn’t miss the way she freezes up, suddenly finding the distant stars more interesting than their current conversation, “Shep- Raven, when was the last time you slept?”

Her scoff cuts through the dull hum of the engines as she grows more frustrated by the question. Frantically, she runs her hand through the silky black hair that has since been released from its usual braid. She takes a moment to control her breathing and smothers the spark of annoyance before she tries to speak.

“I can’t.” 

He shrugs in response as he turns back to focus on flying the Normandy back to the Citadel to re-stock. She relaxes further into the chair, making the most of the soft leather while watching the stars twinkle around her. They are different here compared to the view from her cabin, they don’t seem to mock her down here. Her quiet musings are interrupted by Joker dramatically clearing his throat, she raises an eyebrow, urging him to get on with it.

“Well, I was just thinking,” he starts before being instantly interrupted.

“Oh no.” She deadpans.

“First of all, rude. Second of all, why did you come to me of all people?”

“What do you mean? I’ve known you since before the original Normandy, you’re like my brother by now, Joker.” She stares at him incredulously before being overtaken by a small yawn.

“That’s oddly sweet of you, sis, but I already knew that and it’s also not what I meant,” a small smirk appears on his face as he continues to stare straight ahead, “I’m just surprised you didn’t go to Garrus, that’s all. Considering you seem to take him everywhere, talk to him about everything, and funnily enough, you speak about him all the time.”

“Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” she mutters and bites the inside of her lip in thought. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but she wasn’t about to let him know that. Not that she needed to in the slightest. “I didn’t want to interrupt him, that’s all.”

“Ah, so you came to pester the one flying us through space at an unholy hour. Thank you, Commander!” Joker states cheerfully, ignoring the glare he can feel emanating from his right. He glances over at her again before they can settle into an easy silence, “Am I ever going to get that t-shirt back, by the way?”

“Nope.” She punctuates her point by tilting her head, her cheek now resting against the back of the soft chair as she stares at the flicking displays around her. The fluorescent interface captivates her and she finds her eyelids beginning to grow heavy.

As a comforting peace descends over the pair, she can’t help herself from thinking about Garrus once more. They had flirted a lot, a new and dangerous game of chicken where they were both more than happy to lose. Sure, she has a lot to say about the man to any who would listen, but his skills with his rifle are impeccable. No one could blame her for boasting about her squad, not when it has saved her life more than once. If she boasted about one over the other… well, maybe there was more truth to Joker’s words than she realised. She just hopes no one else has caught on enough to inspect too closely. The last thing she needs is a potential audience to witness her fumbling through her words and emotions. Doing it in front of him is daunting enough already.

Shepard’s bones feel heavy as the nauseating wave of built-up exhaustion washes over her, demanding her eyes to flutter shut despite her battles against it.

“I think I really like him, Joker…More than…” She confesses before succumbing to sleep, leaving the pilot in stunned silence.

Joker stares at her momentarily before giving a small eye-roll, spinning his chair to the side to watch over her.

“Yeah, kinda knew that already, Ravs…Glad you’re finally catching up. Hey EDI, can you get Garrus up here?” He waits for a moment, expecting the blue glow of her display to flicker to life, only to be met with nothing. “Seriously, EDI? You can stop pretending to not listen now and go tell Garrus to get his spiky butt up here.” “Understood, you should have started with that.” If she possessed a mouth, Joker would be certain she was smirking.

The steady hum of machinery floats around the main battery, grounding Garrus as he stands before the Thanix Canon, doing his best to ignore the aching of his limbs. He taps away at its amber screen, improving its firing algorithms and squeezing out the extra 0.23% he has been working towards all evening. He quickly flicks his eyes towards the time displayed on his visor, the vision becoming blurry as he confirms his suspicions with only a small amount of regret: he’s been working late into his off-duty hours again.

“If Shepard were to find out, she’d have a small speech about how I should look after myself more already prepared…” He mutters to himself, his mandibles fluttering out into a small grin.

Despite the weariness that has sunken deep into his bones after days of sacrificing sleep for survival, he’s still unable to keep himself still for more than a few minutes, not when there’s a new ship with even newer weaponry to inspect. Even though it’s been a handful of weeks, a part of him still can’t believe he’s stood within the Normandy yet again. Not after Joker had broken the news to him two horrible years ago and certainly not after attending the funeral of his best friend. Yet she was back, and so were all the complicated feelings he wanted to run from, ones that she always drew out of him the second she hovered into his line of sight. 

Feelings that no good turian would act on.

With a deep stretch, he takes solace in the shining walls of the ship, providing an old comfort as a sharp sting travels throughout his injured mandible. He tries to conceal his flinch, not wanting to agitate the healing wound more than he already has done, Spirits knows he doesn’t need that lecture from Dr Chakwas again. Before he has the chance to continue with his work, his six fingers hovering above the console and ready to inch closer towards that 0.25%, a smooth voice cuts through the silence.

“Officer Vakarian, Mr Moreau requests your presence on the bridge.” Her tone leaves very little room for argument as the hologram pops up in his peripheral.

“Right, thanks EDI.” He replies plainly before making sure to save his progress, not wanting something to mess it up and waste his hours of mind-numbing work.

The journey to the cockpit is uneventful as the ship silently floats through space, a skeleton crew working diligently through the night to keep everything running, even with the AI onboard. The rhythmic echo of his shoes against the metallic floor is his only companion as he lets his mind wander. Its destination rarely changes away from Shepard. 

The way her black hair, as dark as the void that surrounds them, swings behind her. Her hair always fascinates him whenever he sees her tie parts of it together, her fingers quickly weaving the strands together in a way that makes his head spin. Or how she bites the inside of her cheek, doing her best to hold back a smile whenever something amuses her when in “commander mode”. A part of him aches as he watches her lock more of herself away for the good of the many, leaning towards the icon they expect of her and further away from the human she is. Well, she does whenever they’re not together, he notes with a small amount of smugness.

His mind still comes to a screeching halt when he replays the moment she blatantly revealed her feelings for him as if it were easy, proposing a night together to push their friendship towards unknown territories. Except he knew her well enough by now to know she was just as nervous as he currently is. He could easily spot the nervous scrunch of her nose when she smiled up at him after the proposition. The same scrunch that appeared the day she became a Spectre, or the day he pitifully begged her to consider using the Mako’s breaks before they both got covered in krogan vomit. Her gentle words spoke of blowing off steam and yet her eyes screamed for more, for stability, and he couldn’t deny his own feelings that mirrored hers. 

He always was a bad turian, he thinks with a small snort. 

It’s not long before he is dragged out of his mind and greeted with the back of the pilot’s chair. He can’t remember the last time found himself in the cockpit. He never normally needed anywhere other than the crew deck, or the hangar unless they were docked. Before he can even announce his presence, the chair quickly spins to reveal Joker, a single finger against his lips while the other points towards the co-pilot's seat.

He cocks his head to the side in confusion before his cerulean eyes trail over to the corner, only to widen at the sight while his mandibles flick out in shocked amusement. Commander Raven Shepard is sprawled out within the wide chair, making the woman look oddly small in contrast. What’s even more shocking is the fact that she’s sleeping, deeply if her position is anything to go by. Her legs are thrown over the armrest in a way Garrus can’t imagine being very comfortable, while a single arm dangles off the side of the chair. Her chin is tucked tightly against her chest and her loose hair has fallen against her face, creating a small barrier to hide her sleeping expression from sight.

“Ah…”

“So you can see why I called you up here,” Joker adds, deepening Garrus’ confusion.

“To witness the fact that she can rest for more than twenty minutes at a time, without finding something else to do instead? Or did you need a witness to confirm that you’re not hallucinating and that she is asleep?”

“No, not that. Well… partially that, but that’s beside the point. Someone needs to take Ravs up to her room. Preferably before she wakes up with her muscle aching in five different places and I somehow get the blame for it.” Joker pauses for a moment, his eyes not once moving away from Garrus. “It’s not like I’m capable of helping her, even if she would let me. Which is why you are here, considering you’re the only one that she would let close enough in this state.”

Garrus opens his mouth to interject with a witty retort, but he struggles to find one. It’s not like he can lie to Joker. Well he could, but the man could also quite easily call him out on his bullshit. He never used to consider the Normandy’s pilot a friend, not back when they were nothing more than working together to hunt Saren down. Things slowly changed between them when they both lost her. One was wrecked with guilt, the knowledge that he had condemned his oldest friend. The other was wrecked with the loss of his only friend, torn from his side too soon.

He finds himself silenced as he stares down at her, completely unable to form a response and for a moment, he wonders if Joker can see the conflict. The deeply hidden fear that he will mess everything up and lose her once more.

“For what it’s worth… You have my seal of approval.” His voice is unnaturally soft and void of all humour. It’s not often that Joker shows his serious side, “You’re good for one another and work well together, you will make a scarily good couple.”

Garrus surprises himself with the relieved laugh that escapes him, only to be silenced by a low, harsh, shushing sound.

“I’m glad that you’re happy and all, but the last thing we need is a groggy biotic getting a rude awakening in my bridge. So if you can escort sleeping beauty back to her cabin before that happens, I would appreciate it.”

With a small roll of his eyes, he gingerly approaches the small corner of the bridge, lowering himself before her. From the new vantage point, he can easily see the cybernetic scars peeking through the shield of hair. They had already started to heal, finally letting the skin hide the harsh orange. A selfish part of him will miss them, even with the knowledge of her insecurity surrounding them. At least with them vanishing, it showed progress when it came to her letting herself relax, one less thing for him to worry about.

He slowly raises his hand and tucks the hair behind her ears. The black strands feel like silk within his fingers and flow like water when a stubborn lock escapes, hellbent on covering her. Garrus keeps his subvocals subdued, aware that Cerberus had given her an advantage in that department, despite the hum of contentment and adoration threatening to claw its way up his throat. Before Joker can open his mouth and ruin his mood, Garrus carefully places one arm under her legs while the other weaves around her back, easily pulling her into his arms. He slowly stands, turning to give the pilot a grateful nod before turning to make the trek back to her cabin.

Garrus takes his time as he enters the spacious cabin. Now that she is in his arms, he is reluctant to put her down. After lugging around a thirty-nine-kilogram sniper for hours on end, she weighs next to nothing in his arms without her usual armour. A small part of him wants to get used to the way her head rests against his cowl, the picture of comfort despite the way her cheek is pressed against his armour. 

He glances around the room as he advances deeper into her space, noting the dozens of datapads overtaking her desk before he lowers her onto the large bed. The thick duvet has already been thrown to one side, a clear sign of her previous attempt to rest. After draping it over her, Garrus hesitates, unsure if he is overstepping before a sudden burst of courage guides his hand and tenderly tucks her under the multitude of spare blankets she has collected. He doesn’t miss the way multiple of them cover the leather sofa, nor the pillows that had been taken from her bed accompanying them.

With a satisfied flick of a mandible, he turns to leave before a pale hand quickly shoots out from under the fabric nest, strong yet slender fingers wrapping around his wrist. He slowly turns and is greeted by two grey eyes staring up at him.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Garrus accuses, unsure of what else to say. “I didn’t tiptoe up here in heavy armour for you to wake up now.”

She gives a tired chuckle, her eyes crinkling with mirth as she snuggles deeper under the covers. “I could pretend to be asleep if it makes you feel better?” “I would prefer it if you were actually sleeping,” His eyes slowly trail back over to the sofa, “preferably in your bed.”

Shepard gives a noncommittal shrug as she follows his gaze, the remnants of sleep slurring her words. “I don’t wake to see stars over there.”

His eyes shoot up to the window above her bed and a chill creeps across his body. His subvocals share his discomfort and anger on her behalf and for a moment, he forgets that she can now pick up on parts of it. He awkwardly clears his throat, hoping it could contain his emotions. He gives her a strained smile, noticing the way she has begun drawing small, comforting circles into the smooth underarmour covering his wrist with her thumb.

“Well, next time we’re at the Citadel, I’ll find you a nice banner to stick up there instead. What do you want the design to be? Blasto? The Mako flying off the side of a mountain upside down?” He can’t help the joy that flutters in his chest when her laugh reaches him, her hand coming up to cover her face. “Hm, I’ll find something, I’m sure. You should try to rest until then, Shepard.”

She lets out a deep sigh, sinking deeper into the bed before tugging on his wrist. “Would you stay?”

Garrus feels his mind blank, not for the first time in her presence. 

“Not like that, I know we said we would wait for…that. It’s just…” She trails off, running a frustrated hand through her already messy hair as she looks for the right words to say. “I feel safe when I’m around you and even though I’ll probably still have a nightmare, it’s less daunting knowing you’re around.”

He watches as her face reddens with the confession, her fingers nervously twitching against his wrist as she waits for him. She averts her eyes, staring past him to watch the fish idly swim around their tank. He gently pries her fingers off him, the disappointment in her eyes sending a knife through his heart. 

He takes a step back before unlatching his chestplate. “I need to remove this armour first, I doubt you want cold metal pressed against you all night?”

“I’m sure I’ve slept against worse things during my time in the Alliance,” she mumbles half-heartedly before growing serious again, “thank you, Garrus.”

Garrus gives her a calm smile before he removes the rest of the armour, carefully placing it on one side of the sofa. He then slides under the covers with her, pulling her close to him. Her back is pressed against his chest while his hands rest over her stomach, holding her tight. She shuffles slightly, finding a comfortable spot on her side and he lets out a small hiss as her bare, and cold, foot brushes against his leg. She mumbles out a small apology before she gets lectured on how turians and the cold don’t mix, earning her a small grunt of acknowledgement. With the sounds of his quiet breathing and the steady hum of the fish tank, she finds her eyes growing heavy once more.