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manicpixiefelix · 7 months ago

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 23.

Summary: A conversation between you and Oliver as you both try to distract yourselves from thinking about the day behind, and the night ahead.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

A/N: 2957 words. i split the henrys dinner into two parts because the dinner itself was very different tonally to the conversation with oliver that needed to be had i think. this part is sfw but the next part Will Definitely Not Be :) also im putting more gratuitous shakespeare mentions because i love characters pointing out their own narrative parallels. i feed off of the lovely comments y'all leave, so if you have any thoughts you'd like to share, i always love to hear them!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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No matter what you wore, these formal events made you feel like you were choking.

Oliver finds you in the shared bathroom a few hours before dinner began, already dressed and agitatedly fussing with your collar in the mirror. Spotting him in the reflection, your scowl doesn't clear, but you do start vocalising the thoughts that had been running through your head.

"Lady Daphne has three children, all under fifteen."

"What?" Oliver, still looking entirely casual in sharp contrast to you, leans against the sink, watching you with interest.

"Tonight; the woman next to you who isn't Ven, she has three children under fifteen, their names are -" squeezing your eyes closed tightly, willing yourself to remember, you swear with frustration as the children's names elude you. You'd managed to find and memorise Henry of Suffolk's children's names - Henry Jr and Charlotte - but you're again feeling like it's not enough. Your collar feels too tight.

Unbuttoning your top button for what must be the fifth time in the past half hour of your indecision, you groan with frustration.

"Are you okay?" Oliver asks carefully, to which you try and waive off his concern. Clearly, it doesn't work, considering he's making his way over to you to rest a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"I'm fine, it's fine," you tried again, though it still comes out with clear irritation. Closing your eyes again you try and calm yourself enough to focus, "I saw their names the other night in my notes, I know this," you hissed under your breath, "Lady Daphne and Lord Henry; he's Sir James' godson and his own sons are named..." you wrinkled your nose, braced against the counter, "they're fucking French names, I know this!"

"Are Lady Daphne and Lord Henry French?" Oliver asks.

"No, they're just pretentious," you bit out, though suddenly it came to you, "Regis, Gabriel, and Louis." A grin lights up your face at that; the tension leaves you for the moment in the wake of your small victory. You feel like you can breathe again. Oliver gives you a hesitant smile, at least glad to see you're feeling better for having finally remembered. Breathing a relief sigh, you turn to him properly, "how are you, Ollie?"

"Should I remember Regis, Gabriel, and Louis at dinner?" He asks with faint hesitancy. You shrugged.

"I'm sure it couldn't hurt," logically you knew your own anxious preparations were often too detailed for what the night would actually require, but if you had information that could help ease Oliver into this world to which he was unaccustomed, you'd offer whatever you could to make him feel prepared.

But when he asks if you want to stay with him while he gets himself ready for the evening, you still find yourself hesitating.

Farleigh had found you that afternoon as you'd been coming back in from your gardening; he looked more than a little irritated, but refused to explain his mood. There was something unusually guarded about him at the time, something almost bordering on reproachful in the way he looked at you.

As your heart sank with realisation, you tried to find a way to explain to him everything that had happened between you, Felix, and Oliver. The tricky part of it all would most certainly be reassuring him that you believed him entirely, while also figuring out a way to explain why you'd given Oliver another chance despite knowing he was lying to you and Felix. There was no way you'd be able to explain yourself in this moment, and Farleigh seemed to realise this too.

"If you have something to say to me," Farleigh told you tersely, glancing over his shoulder where you could both hear Felix chattering loudly to Oliver down another corridor, "if you can bare to tear yourself away from your darling, little Iago," he spits, and you sighed deeply, expression clearly showing your disappointment, which Farleigh paid no mind to, standing to his full height and fixing his cool gaze upon you, "you know where I'll be."

So now, here you were, after almost an hour trying and failing to distract yourself by skimming through Shakespeare's Othello since Farleigh's latest cruel nickname for Oliver had reminded you of it, you'd decided to bite the bullet and get yourself ready. Really you should head over to Farleigh's room and sort things out with him, talk everything through and smooth it all over, but Oliver looks so helpless at the mere thought of what tonight would require. You tell yourself you can always talk to Farleigh later.

The afternoon eases itself into early evening with far less tension than the middle of the day had brought with it. Simply being in Oliver's company does wonders for your nerves. Even if talk between you is limited, the silence is not uncomfortable; Oliver gets himself ready, and you continue to skim the play while splayed out on Oliver's bed, and the duvet that used to be yours, easing each other's anxieties in quiet parallel.

You're looking for a quote you half remember from when you'd studied the play back in high school, a line that would be all too fitting of an offer to Farleigh when you saw him next, picking up on his allusion while trying to assure him you weren't just blindly believing Oliver over him - there.

I am not merry; but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.

You keep the text open on the bedspread before you as Oliver asks you questions about the unspoken scripts that you all must follow throughout the night. There's something like vindication that wells up within you when you realise how easy you find it to talk him through them.

"Do you always wear suits to these things?" Oliver asks carefully in the intimate moment in which you stand before him, doing up the cuffs of his dress shirt.

"The Henrys dinners? Yes," you nod, nimble fingers dancing against the fabric by his wrist. An amused smile makes it's way across your lips as you explain without even really thinking, "the first and last time I wore a cocktail dress to a Henrys dinner I made one of them, Henry Rochester I think, very uncomfortable," you smirked at the memory, and though Oliver's glad to see you're more smug rather than uncomfortable about the memory, he still doesn't quite seem to understand why.

"Because you're...?"

"Technically yes," you huffed a laugh, letting go of the first cuff to do the second, "because he now gets hard thinking about me in a dress and he doesn't know how to feel about it, and I don't want to deal with that." For a moment, the words simmer in the air between you both, and you finish up with the second cuff, stepping back with a pleased little smile. Oliver, however, still seems to be confused, and finally you acquiesce, giving him the final piece of the story;

"It was a very nice dress, Henry was just so bloody wasted he forgot I was the one wearing it when he couldn't see my face when he walked in on Fi and I in the wine cellar decided to stick around and watch with his dick in his hand," you shook your head dismissively at the memory, rolling your eyes but still grinning, "which isn't our fault, it's our wine cellar, he's the one getting drunk and going for a roam on someone else's estate."

It startles a laugh out of Oliver, the sound bright and sharp as his hand comes up reflexively to cover his mouth. Your expression scrunches up, pleased at the sound. In the few moments that follow, you straighten out Oliver's collar as he's giggling to himself, watching you from behind his hand with warmth and something almost adoring.

"I should show you some time," you wet your lips, crossing your arms as you gave him a leering look over, your intentions obvious. Oliver flushes a little, smiling under your gaze.

"The dress?"

"The wine cellar," you corrected, making Oliver laugh once more.

"You sure you're not going to get me drunk and brick me in down there?" He asked, and your eyebrows rose at the unexpected reference to Poe's Cask of Amontillado. At your obvious surprise, Oliver gives a half smile, reminding you that you'd left a book of Poe's work in the drawer by his bed. He'd read it? You're not sure why you're so touched by that, but you are.

"If we end up drunk in the wine cellar, I promise I won't be leaving you alone down there," there's a surprising amount of affection in your voice for what is ultimately some pretty on the nose flirting, but Oliver seems to appreciate it nonetheless.

When you return from your own room with a pair of cufflinks for him, however, his expression is pensive as he's sitting on the edge of the bed, flicking through the copy of Othello you'd left there.

"Thought my party had something to do with the Midsummer Night's Dream one," he says with faint confusion. You've already got the line you'd found earlier memorised, so you're not concerned that he's flicking through, losing your page in the process.

"No, it is, it's just Farleigh -" except you really don't want to tell Oliver exactly what Farleigh had called him, had implied about him with a single, derisive nickname alone. Iago. You shrugged, "he just said something earlier that reminded me of it is all." Then, sitting down beside him, you shoot for a smile, "what are you up to now; tie?"

For a long few moments, Oliver gives you this utterly unreadable expression. You wonder if he knows the play; if he did, he could almost definitely make an educated guess about what Farleigh's comment may have been, especially given the very recent circumstances. Even if you don't know exactly how Oliver would react to something like that, you're not exactly eager to find out.

The moment thankfully does pass without further comment on the play, with Oliver instead standing and heading to the full length mirror by the wardrobe.

"Is your family helping Felix's with paying for Farleigh's uni and stuff?" Oliver asks with genuine curiosity in his voice as he glances at you in the mirror's reflection.

"What?" The question seems to come out of nowhere, and your reaction is entirely genuine.

"I just wondered if that was, you know, part of the reason he was so loyal to you," Oliver shrugged, though there's something almost apologetic in his eyes, "and, I guess, why you knew you could trust him to be so loyal?"

How did he even know the Cattons were helping with Farleigh's education? Your suspicions were with Elspeth, whom you loved despite how much of a gossip she always was, but Oliver admits that Felix had told him about how he and Farleigh were cousins, and Sir James' guilt over his semi-estranged sister, all the way back at Oxford. Ah, makes sense. Part of it was probably to explain why Farleigh was always hanging around them despite his obvious distaste for Oliver. It takes you a beat to compose your thoughts; knowing both Oliver, and Farleigh, you had to be deliberately sure of whatever information you shared in this moment.

"I'd give Farleigh anything if he asked," you admitted, wearing a faint, sad little smile as you recall how coldly he'd looked at you earlier that day, "but he never has," you shook your head, "not about something like that at least. Why?"

Looking over at the mirror, you see Oliver with his tie done up, looking at you in the reflection as though you're a puzzle he's desperately attempting to solve. But, when you smile, he returns the look in kind.

"I think this might just be one of those times where I have to remember you telling me there's more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in my philosophy," Oliver says with a wry smile, and you can't help but laugh at the memory of your first proper conversation with him about your friendship with Farleigh on one of Oxford's many rooves.

"Farleigh is simply one of my best friends; I don't begrudge him his pride, it's part of who he is, and I love who he is," with your warm laughter, the mood in the room has lightened considerably, and you finally stand. Wrapping your arms around Oliver from behind, perching your chin on his shoulder, you take in the sight of you both in the mirror.

"You know, I think you'd look so beautiful in a dress if you ever wanted to wear one," you tell Oliver idly, handing over the box with the little, golden cufflinks that you'd been fidgeting with on the bed.

"Beautiful enough to give an old man a sexuality crisis?" He asked with a blithe grin, pulling out of your grip if only to make his way to the cupboard where his jacket had been hung.

"Oh, undoubtably," you don't even hesitate, sitting yourself in the arm chair by the window, watching him once more.

"Don't know if I could start with a cocktail dress," he says, gazing at himself in the mirror with a pleasantly thoughtful look in his eyes as he genuinely considers the idea. Then, "I think I trust you with this more than I trust me," he gives a suddenly self conscious chuckle, ducking his gaze, fidgeting with the collar of the jacket he was still holding.

"You don't have to start anywhere if you don't want," you assured him faintly, but Oliver's smile is so damn affectionate.

"It's fuckin' impossible to describe the kind of effect you have," he tells you, shaking his head, "if you say I'd look beautiful, all I know is that I think I want to look beautiful, just so long as it's you who's looking at me."

"I feel very lucky sometimes," you give an endeared hum at his words, grinning to yourself, "my beautiful boys." Oliver, jacket now on, freezes. He's turning a delightful shade of red at that, looking like he was trying and failing to fight off a pleased grin. Finally, he meets your gaze in the mirror, "would you let me put together a costume for you, for your birthday?"

"What?"

"It's a costume party after all, could I put together a costume for you? Not a cocktail dress, I promise," you teased, and Oliver finally turned back to you, regarding you with nothing but love and affection.

"You know, sometimes I still can't believe you give me the time of day," the words almost seem to surprise him as they leave his lips. Something in your chest tightens, and you pause, once again caught off guard by Oliver Quick. There's a sweetness to the way he speaks that has butterflies fluttering so strangely in your stomach, "you're so..." he turns the words over in his mind, looking for the correct one, before he finally settles, "you're a dream," he says simply, "I don't think you don't get enough credit."

His words fill the sudden silence of the early evening as he steps towards you, cufflinks in hand, offering them as a silent request for assistance. You agree without even thinking.

In the back of your mind, you hear Farleigh calling Oliver Iago, but you can't bring yourself to care. Yes, Oliver spent enough time around you, observing you, talking to you, being in your space, that he knows exactly what to say and how to say it to endear himself to you. Clearly he's genuinely fond of you, but it's not often he gives you a compliment like this. Everything always so deliberate.

But it feels so fucking good to have someone put in the effort for you, someone other than Felix. Felix had always known how you worked, what songs to sing to make you dance if the whim ever struck him. It almost overwhelms you to realise that Oliver had learned how to hum along to the quiet song your heart sings too.

You wonder if you should tell Oliver that he doesn't need to try and manipulate his way into your life, that you'd already made a place for him here, all he had to do was ask to stay.

"I keep giving you the time of day because I'm very, very vain," you can't bring yourself to face his sincerity with any of your own, or you think you may either start crying, or possibly jump his bones, and it's too close to dinner for either. Instead, you grin from ear to ear, teasing tone letting him know how clearly you were joking, as you fixed the first cufflink to his jacket's sleeve, "and you keep saying lovely things about me."

"Lucky for me then that I don't think I'll ever run out of lovely things to say about you," you'd forgotten just how well Oliver could flirt when he really wanted to. Eyes bright and smile brighter, you can see mischief sparkling in his eyes when you look up, meeting his gaze. You love this boy so much it feels like it hurts at times like this.

"Think that means I should keep you very close by, at all times."

"Very few places I'd rather be, sweetheart."

That beautiful bastard knew exactly what he was doing to you.

Later, out of this space, out of this moment, out of Oliver's arms, you could go back to worrying about the night, about all the lies oscillating around your whole situation, about Felix and Farleigh and Venetia. Later, you'll find yourself thinking that Farleigh may have had far more of a point with Othello than you'd first realised when you read 'one that loved not too wisely, but too well' before you put the text back on the shelf.

Later.

Right now, you let Oliver pull you in for a kiss.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick x you #venetia catton imagine #venetia catton x you #venetia catton x reader #venetia catton x reader x felix catton #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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fancyfeathers · 6 months ago

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William’s and Sherlock’s darlings

The Games We Play of Dust and Ash (Yandere Moriarty the Patriot Masterlist)

(A/N- this one was painful to write, I cried while writing this)

Spoilers for the Moriarty the Patriot timeskip

When Sherlock and William disappear, their darlings are left alone, because Mycroft’s darling is married off to him and she was the reporter’s best friend, and Albert is arrested and his darling has left to go see the world with her dead parent’s fortune, meanwhile Louis’ darling is still stuck with him as his life changes, which leaves William’s darling alone again…

William told her that he would never abandon her…

And now he was gone…

He kidnapped her, manipulated her, gaslit her, but he cared for her, she thinks.

Honestly she doesn’t know what to think as she now stands in an empty house, all alone, abandoned like she had been all her life. But then there is a knock at the front door and her steps echo through the empty halls as she goes to get it, and all she feels is emptiness from this empty nest. She opens the door to see an all too familiar face and a welcome one at that, the reporter, Sherlock’s darling. Both of them look at the other and they just look like they have seen hell. William’s darling has always seen this woman as a strong and independent woman but…

“…Miss Hudson said that Sherlock left me some stuff in case he… I…I can’t do this alone.”

“…Neither can I.”

Now it feels like William’s darling is looking at a mirror when looking at her friend. The two go to Baker Street together to pick of the box of the things Sherlock left his darling, it’s mostly letters he wrote to her but never sent, all the things he couldn’t make himself say, a few of her newspapers articles, some money, and a ring. The two go back to the old Moriarty estate together and just sit down together in silence which is broken by Sherlock’s darling…

“I don’t have a job anymore since I worked for Milverton’s paper and I doubt any news companies here would want to hire me since my main source is dead, I have some family in the states I was going to stay with until I am ready to start writing again-“

“Can I please come with you?”

A smile comes across the reporter’s face at her question.

“I was hoping you would.”

The two say goodbyes to whoever they can and have left and a week later they are on a boat across the ocean. It is on the voyage over when Sherlock’s darling is walking through the halls of the ship when she hears music, she follows it to one of the ship’s lounges to see William’s darling playing and singing. Her friend sits down on the bench next to her and listens…

“Where did you learn?”

“Albert’s wife taught me how to play and then at the opera house I used to listen in on the singers’ vocal lessons.”

“Well you certainly have a gift, good enough to play at the St. Regis in New York.”

“Thank you… I read some of your articles as well, you also have quite the hand.”

“Thank you.”

Starting a new life can be scary but at least they have each other.

Life in New York is not so bad, the two women stay with the grandparents of Sherlock’s darling in their home in upper Manhattan, a kind retired couple who takes care of the two women after such a terrifying and life changing incident. Her grandfather clears out his old and unused study for his grandchild to use so she can begin writing her new column. And then her grandmother begins to teach William’s darling about the types of music here in New York that is far different than the music she heard be played at the opera house, the two play piano that can be heard from where her grandfather works in his garden and down the hall where the reporter clicks away at her typewriter.

Soon two years had passed, the two managed to get their own apartment in lower manhattan, Sherlock’s darling had been taking small writing jobs here and there but had recently secured a job as a journalist for the New York Times, a crime journalist like she was before. Meanwhile William’s darling after years of hiding herself away and now works as a singer at a high end hotel like the reporter told her to do. The two had found themselves grow into a routine, make and have breakfast together, William’s darling will clean up the apartment and work and write some of her music while Sherlock’s darling heads out to work, then the reporter will come back in the afternoon for a late lunch, then William’s darling will leave to the hotel while the reporter finishes her work at home for the day, and then she will join her friend at the hotel after her performance and the two will have dinner there due to her friend’s role as staff at the hotel. Life was peaceful and now neither of them were alone, they had each other.

Some days were harder than others, one of them knowing they left people behind in London, the darlings of Louis and Mycroft, not telling Albert’s darling where they were so she would not feel the need to find them ever since they would take care of themselves. Sometimes the two would sit on top of the roof of their apartment building after hanging up the laundry and just wonder if they made the right choice and if they miss the mastermind and detective, William’s darling is far more prone to this and will just take her notebook up and write, doesn’t matter what, music, poetry, letters to him for her to keep, just something to get it all off her chest.

Meanwhile working for the Pinkerton agency in Brooklyn, Sherlock gets a job, there is going to be a large transaction with one of the heads of the biggest crime family in New York at a high end hotel in Manhattan, so he brings along William since has more insight how unground organizations function. They deal with the threat at the hotel silently as the owner requested as to not scare the guests and staff…

Meanwhile William’s darling and Sherlock’s darling are having a glass of wine in one of the empty event rooms at the hotel after her shift, sitting on the piano bench of the grand piano in the mostly empty room. Sherlock’s darling mentions that she left her journal open on the couch at home and told her she read one of the songs and asks her.

“Do you miss William?”

“…sometimes… I-I know he was a devil on earth… but I can’t help but think that even devils were once angels- sorry I probably sound crazy-“

“I would never tell you that you are crazy… would you mind playing one of your songs for me?”

“Sure but only if you sing with me, and don’t say you don’t know the lyrics when you snooped.”

Sherlock and William are walking down a hall in the hotel, about to leave when they both hear a piano playing from one of the rooms ahead. They shrug it off as some staff or a guest playing for fun, then William hears a voice, her voice…

“Balancing the scales

All my job entails

Making sure that they're prepared to see the world.”

He thinks he is just hearing something for a second and tries to tell himself it is nothing, but her voice… it has to be…

Sherlock definitely picks up on this and silently nods and William approaches the closed door where he hears the music and the voice…

“And all I feel is emptiness

From this emptying nest

William are you there

I was unaware

How difficult it'd be without you there

I was unprepared”

It is her, it has to be.

Then there is another voice joining in…

“Balancing the scales, balancing the scales

I did the best I could but still I have failed

Still I have failed

Balancing the scales

Want them to see the world but I'll always care”

Now William looks at the detective so see the same expression William wore on his own face.

As the piano fades away the door handle turns and the ladies turn their heads expecting it to be another of the hotel staff but instead…

William expected something when his darling saw him after years of thinking he was dead, but not the look of fear in her eyes after saying his name so sweetly in a song. She looks terrified, like she just saw a ghost and in some ways she did.

Sherlock on the other hand expected his darling’s reaction, like the look of pure rage in her eyes when she saw him alive. Their last few meeting before he disappeared were not on the greatest term as their friendship had a falling out due to Sherlock’s feels towards her and his overprotectiveness. Then not to mention by killing Milverton, she lost her job in London

In a blink of an eye and without a second thought, Sherlock’s darling grabbed her friend’s wrist and walked right out of the other doors to the room into another hallway.

It takes a second for William to process that he is crying. He abandoned her when he told her that he would never do such a thing. God what had he done?

The next day, neither woman goes to work, not even bothering to notify anyone that they would not be showing up today, they would find an excuse later. William’s darling sits on the rooftop, looking over the city as Sherlock’s darling hangs their laundry up on the line…

“Do you think you’ll go back to him now that you have the option?”

The question from her friend catches William’s darling off guard…

“I… I don’t know…”

“You do not have to, dear.”

That voice catches both women off guard, and they both look behind them at the rooftop entrance to see William standing there with his darling’s journal in hand, she must have left it at the piano.

“I only came to return this… and tell you I am sorry for abandoning you, I hurt you and I can never repair your trust in me, but I will… I will always be here if you need me.”

He sets the journal down on the bench she is sitting down and before William can turn to leave, she grabs his sleeve and he looks down at her with confusion but before he can say anything else she leaps up and wraps her arms around him, tucking her chin over his shoulder as she always had done…

“I forgive you.”

Meanwhile Sherlock’s darling is overcome with emotions that she cannot place as she looks at the two. She squeezes her eyes shut and a hand comes to rest on her shoulder. She does not have to look up to know who it was.

“I do not forgive you.”

“I wasn’t asking you to and I wasn’t apologizing, love.”

#sherlock holmes x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yandere sherlock holmes x reader #yandere sherlock holmes #yandere moriarty the patriot #yandere yuukoku no moriarty #william moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x reader #yandere william james moriarty

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vampyrs-and-witchers · 28 days ago

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EMIEL REGIS - NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

A sweetheart who'll make sure you're okay and talk to you if you've the energy for conversation. If not, he'll gladly hold you and stroke your hair, press kisses against your skin and forehead.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Their favorite body part is their hands and legs. The favorite body part of their partner is their chest, legs and face.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He's a polite man and won't cum on you unless you expressly state you want him to. In that case, he'll gladly cum on your face.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Definitely wants to try some light bdsm but is too shy to admit it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Fairly experienced, he's had sex with a few human women and a few bruxas. Hell, he's even had sex with Dettlaff!

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary always, wants to see your beautiful face. But if he's feeling particularly frustrated, Doggy style.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely a healthy balance between the two, he'll try and make you laugh while also making you moan. He knows how scary and serious sex can be, he just wants you to enjoy it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very well groomed! He's more salt than pepper down below compared to above.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very romantic, likes to take things slow and ease you into it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Hardly jacks off, but when he does just know he's very frustrated at the moment.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

DD/LB (prefers younger (20-30s) men)

BDSM (mild to light)

Pet play

Master/Pet or Master/Slave

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

At home or in the garden.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You!

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Won't bite you no matter how badly you ask him, he doesn't want to accidentally risk drinking blood and becoming re-addicted.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Both, but definitely prefers giving more.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not the biggest fan of them but will do it if you want one or two.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's open to spicing up the bedroom!

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Two perhaps three if he's really frustrated.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Vibrators!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A huge tease but he definitely knows when to stop if he's made you uncomfortable or upset.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Fairly loud, but he'll try and be quiet if the circumstances call for it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He watches porn on occasion if he wants to masturbate.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Average length, girthier. Grower! Head is a pale baby pink.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Average if not slightly lower.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He'll try to stay awake and make sure that you're okay, but if he's especially spent - expect him to pass out.

#the witcher #emiel regis rohellec terzieff godefroy #emiel regis

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clericofshadows · 3 months ago

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zorya

Description: Regis and Zaeed go to Zorya to fulfill his last active contract.

Paring: Regis Shepard/Zaeed Massani/Kaidan Alenko

Rating: T

Word Count: ~14K

AO3 LINK

In hindsight, Regis should’ve known from the beginning that this mission would not have gone well.

Zaeed took contracts for a reason, and he knew that sometimes, he could have a bit of a heart of gold alongside his desire for a heavy payout. Sure, Regis will gladly ensure that Eldfell-Ashland stays rich by clearing out the Blue Suns from one of their refineries. Why not? No harm in making sure Zaeed had all his debts and outstanding missions claimed.

The Blue Suns should’ve been enough of a warning in itself. Regis knew the story. Zaeed was the founder working with Vido. A good partnership, until it wasn’t. Shot in the face after refusing to entertain Batarian help and slave trading–working with goddamn terrorists, to quote the man–and here he is, still vying his time to get his due.

And now the Blue Suns are known as a Batarian merc company, the exact thing Zaeed wanted to avoid. The true history was long forgotten in the eyes of the galaxy.

He heard the story early on when he and Kaidan were still just two Alliance idiots taking a shore leave on Omega, getting themselves involved in the vorcha mafia all over 5000 credits and a bottle of fucking whiskey of all things. Regis will never let Kaidan play poker anywhere ever again, but it did bring them to Zaeed.

So, when the shuttle dropped them off on the pleasant surface of Zorya alongside Kasumi, Zaeed immediately tapped into their communications and started down the path.

Another warning. But then again, this was against the Blue Suns. Not the first time they had faced their gang. Not the first time Zaeed used his own tech knowledge and in-depth understanding of how the Suns operated, despite twenty years ous.

It sure as hell won’t be the last time either.

The next came in the form of a group of dead workers. “Vido’s style,” he had growled out, cursing the man’s name and shaking his head at the brutality.

No, this wasn’t just any contract.

That should’ve been his first sign. An immediate call to action to figure out what the hell was really going on. But he didn’t. He trusted Zaeed to tell him.

Vido’s voice on the comm was another warning. Of course, he didn’t recognize it. But Zee sure as shit did.

Regis should’ve stopped him then. Should’ve told Kasumi to scout ahead while he dragged him aside and asked about Vido, and asked about the true purpose beyond his little contract.

Another song and dance of trusting Zaeed to tell him. To give him all the facts. To let him in on something that was clearly so damn important to him.

He also held back when they entered the refinery and saw Vido and his little Blue Suns foot soldiers flanking him.

"Zaeed Massani. You finally tracked me down." Vido’s voice was easy, barely full of anything other than annoyance.

“Vido.” Zaeed growled out, full of chewed up gravel. Reaching for his Mattock immediately, Regis did the same with his Valkyrie, keeping a loose grip on it.

If Regis interfered, this could all go tits up. Zaeed had all the cards and refused to show his hand, and he was ready to talk to him about it later. So fucking ready to tear into him and ask him what the hell he was thinking not coming clean about this? Now Regis can’t do a damn thing and undermine Zaeed.

Not in front of Vido.

If it was anyone else, Regis would have already interfered. Did whatever the hell he thought was right in the moment. Sometimes that worked well.

But this was Zaeed. Not just anyone.

"Don't be stupid, Zaeed. I have a whole company of bloodthirsty bastards behind me, ready to kill or be killed on my command."

And that was the issue, wasn’t it? How Vido warped the Blue Suns into something nasty, into everything Zaeed wasn’t and hated. Blind soldiers ready to die. That's exactly what mercs aren’t.

A story Regis remembered amongst the haze of Astra smoke shared amongst Zaeed and Kaidan, lounging in bed after both of them had taken turns fucking Regis, telling them stories of past missions gone wrong.

“But the two of you are different. Actually give a shit as opposed to everyone else. You ain’t in it for the fucking money. You crazy bastards do it because it's the right goddamn thing to do.”

Regis kept an eye on both Zaeed and Vido, Kasumi hanging back behind them. Smart. Easy escape. The tension in the air was thick, like a steady, foggy haze.

Zaeed’s eyes and head flicked towards some piping system. What does Zaeed see that he doesn’t…

"Actually, take your shot. Give my men a reason to put you down like the mad dog you are. Again." Vido was full of taunting words, and the fucking dog comment almost had Regis opening his mouth and biting back. He's no fucking dog. But he kept his mouth shut, glancing back towards Zaeed with a hard look.

“Shepard…” Kasumi’s voice came up over the comm link, quiet and hushed. Private towards him, by the way Zaeed showed no sign of reacting. “What are we going to do?”

Behind him, he made a signal to hold position. As much as he hated it, this was no longer his mission. No longer his call to make.

A series of gunshots from Zaeed’s Mattock broke through the air as he rushed forward, seemingly firing blindly.

Regis reached for his gun then and there, rushing to cover, and was about to blast the mercs with a singularity…

"What was that? Gone nearsighted, old friend?" Another taunt, another snide remark from Vido.

Zaeed missed for a reason. He held his dark energy in his hand, watching, waiting–seeing gas escape from one of the pipes near Vido. And that was what he was aiming at. Take out as many as can… but why take that kind of reckless shot? Why not just nail Vido? Zaeed’s a better shot than him, and he’ll even admit it to the bastard’s face if he’s nice enough about it.

But revenge was just as much about sending a message as it was about doing the action.

"Burn, you son of a bitch." True hatred, true anger laced Zaeed's final remark to Vido as he shot at the weak spot on the pipe–again, not at fucking Vido–and an exposion wracked the entrance of the refinery, taking down some of the Suns. He couldn’t tell if Vido was one of them. Regis met Zaeed’s gaze, and the bastard gave him a fucking smirk. What the fucking hell?

"You just signed your death warrant, Massani!" Vido raised up with a little bit of a struggle. Hit, but not fully taken down.

It’s never that goddamn easy.

This time, Regis fired off a singularity towards the balcony as the remaining Suns started shooting at them, letting out a curse when Vido seemed to not get caught in the field.

He’s about to throw a Warp to detonate his singularity when he hears banging, watching in a mix of horror and frustration as Zaeed began to hit a central valve with the butt of his Mattock.

“Zee–what the fucking hell are you doing?” He growled out, almost cursing at himself at letting his nickname slip. Already charged with emotions, compromising himself, and they haven’t even been on this planet for long. Kasumi shook her head next to him, letting out a curse under her breath in a language he didn’t have a translator for.

An explosion started to travel up the pipes, before causing a chain reaction at the balcony and beyond, taking out more lowly mercs along the ones in his singularity, the biotic energy becoming unstable and bursting.

Never the target, right?

Never the asshole that compromised the mission.

For a moment, Regis didn’t know if he was thinking about Zaeed or Vido. He pushed that thought aside.

And the refinery was now up in flames. Anything to kill his fucking target, right?

Zaeed holstered his gun with a shrug. "Opening the gate."

He got up from his position behind cover, nodding at Kasumi, who met his gaze with a hard look. She wasn’t happy about this either. Why would she? Figured it would be a quick and easy in and out rescue. Right up her alley sabotaging security to fuck with the Suns.

Instead, it was all up in flames.

He stopped in front of Zaeed and crossed his arms against his chest. “Could you remind me what the point of this mission was? Freeing the workers here from the Suns? So why the hell are you blowing up this fucking building?”

Zaeed narrowed his eyes. “You saw Vido right fucking there. You don’t know the security in this building. You may be good–both of you–” He looks at Kasumi. “But I wasn’t going to take that fucking risk for him to get away.”

Regis closed his eyes briefly. 3. 2. 1. Calm. A breath. “You want Vido dead? We’ll kill the bastard, but he’s not the only person in this fucking building.”

“As far as I’m concerned, he’s the only person in this fucking building that matters.” Zaeed started to walk past, but Regis grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Zee.” He used his nickname, but his voice was sharp. Hard. “The mission was to liberate this refinery. That’s the pretense you gave me.”

“Killing Vido will liberate the goddamn refinery. We are wasting precious fucking time. You said that we all had a last request to fill. This is my request, and my goddamn mission.” Zaeed’s face was stony, the mismatched eyes often softened just for him were sharp as steel, his voice just as low as the threats he sent over to Vido.

A distant explosion shook the refinery. Regis narrowed his eyes but followed him anyway through the door, not the time to argue as much as he wanted to strangle him. Blue Suns bodies littered around the entrance further into the facility. Zaeed did some real damage.

In more ways than one. “We are saving the workers, right?” Kasumi’s voice was back over the comms, hushed and insistent.

He didn’t answer at first, because there were two turian Suns waiting for them on the other side. Regis fired off an overload to take care of any shields, while Kasumi and Zaeed finished them off with a few well placed gunshots.

He was going to reply to her, but he caught her gaze and nodded just enough. She nodded back but her worried expression didn’t quite leave.

He didn’t blame her. This was such a fucking shit show already.

And she knew damn well along with everyone else how close he and Zaeed are. Who is in bed with who.

The walk across the catwalk was tense. The facility was up in flames, becoming more and more unstable by the minute. If there truly were workers inside…

Regis has blood on his hands. It’s a fact that doesn’t bother him most days, but when Torfan’s anniversary rolls around the feeling becomes more intense. Never regretting the action he made, never seeing it as the wrong thing, and yet–the skull tattoo on the back of his neck burns. His biotic squad that died, along with many other Alliance.

Hell of a victory. Hell of a loss.

He wears the Butcher title proudly all the same. He understands sacrifice to win a victory, but this? Nothing about what Zaeed had done was right. And Regis wasn’t a fucking idiot. He knew Zaeed had methods that he disagreed with. Heard many stories that often left Zaeed on top, anyone that had worked with him dead, betrayed, or betraying him. But he thought Zaeed respected his moral code, respected his desire to protect civilians and innocents who had no place in this war between them.

Zaeed was about to enter the door, barely looking behind him when they heard someone call out. Regis stopped him with a grip on his arm that was quickly shoved off, but Zaeed stopped all the same, stepping out of the doorway and letting it automatically close behind him.

Maybe seeing his consequences for real will trigger something in him. Vido is just one fucking man…

Kasumi almost looked relieved to see someone call out for help, a worker in a standard jumpsuit.

"We can't get to the gas valves to shut them off! The whole place is going to blow!" He was pleading for help, desperate. And why wouldn’t he be? He shielded his face from a relatively nearby blast, further proving his point.

Regis was about to open his mouth to ask what they needed to do, but Zaeed damn near turned his back, heading back towards the door. He grabbed his arm again, and those eyes were once more filled with something hard as steel. Sharp as a knife, his glare could cut. Regis didn’t let the wound bleed for one damn minute. “There’s no goddamn time, Regis. Vido’s probably near the fucking docks by now.”

Is he fucking serious?

“Trust me, I know and want Vido dead along with you.” He kept his tone carefully still, as if he was reading off a report to Hackett, hiding the war slowly going on in his heart and mind. “But I want you to tell me to my goddamn face if he is really worth watching these innocents burn to death.”

For a brief moment, Regis genuinely thought he got through to Zaeed, the way he paused and turned his head to look back at the worker, who was making his way to the other side of the balcony. A war inside him as well.

“Don’t think I’m going to stick around and watch, and if we stop and help, Vido will–”

Regis now knew there was only one decision he could make as Commander. Not as Regis, not as Shepard even, but as the fucking Commander in charge of this mission.

Vido was not the reason why they were here today.

The real mission was never the refinery, but Regis’s mission was now the refinery.

Regis felt his corona rage underneath his skin, letting some of it flare out by flashing his eyes, pointing at Zaeed and pushing his finger into the chest of his Ajax gear. "We're here to free these people. We're going in. And if you want to chase after Vido, fucking go for it. Good luck doing it alone. I’m saving these workers since that is what you told me this mission was all about." He didn’t wait for an answer and followed the worker’s instructions, jumping over the catwalk to a different, lower part of the refinery. Kasumi quickly followed. “You did the right thing, Shepard. He’ll get over it.”

He glanced over at her and saw her concerned look. “I hope so. Or else his bed won’t be very warm.” Or mine.

She snickered, and it made him feel marginally better.

There was a grumble and Zaeed joined them a moment later. “If Vido gets away, I’m blaming you.”

Regis kept his back to him and didn’t acknowledge his comment. So what? The bastard knows how he feels about these kinds of choices.

And what would Kaidan do? Obviously… he would go after the workers…

Right? Two against one. Would he still be reacting the same way if it was the both of them?

“Fine, you bastard.” The venom was evident in Zaeed’s voice. Regis tried to not let it poison him. “We’d better get fucking to it, then.”

At least he conceded.

Why did he even think for one fleeting second that Zaeed was going to let Vido go? After all he’s heard, after all he’s learned… even knowing that Regis’s uncle, Vikram, healed his face, a connection that kept Zaeed close to Regis’s family…

But that’s just the thing? If this was T’Soni, you’d be doing everything in your power to get your revenge. Why is this any different?

If only Zaeed was honest from the start.

Why wasn’t he?

– –

Any kind of mission that involved fire created an extra layer of tension. Fire is unpredictable. Fire is deadly. Fire sees no sides.

With the conflict he was having with Zaeed, it heightened every feeling he had. Every moment of stress, every split-second decision he had to make. Every time he stopped and listened and helped clear a path for as many of the workers as possible.

He knew there was no way in hell that they’ll be able to get them all out. Some were likely already dead. All because of–

Zaeed? Vido? Him?

Regis pressed onward all the same.

They didn’t face much opposition at first. Mostly helping trapped workers get through by activating fire suppression systems, breathing a little easier with each activation.

Hearing the pleas for help that quickly turned into thanks kept him going. Kasumi was guiding them through, having managed to grab a schematic of the building off of one of the workers.

As they were walking through what looked to be a small storage area, she ran up to him and pointed to a spot on the map, pulled up on her omnitool. “We might still be able to catch him…” She trailed off, seemingly scanning his face. Zaeed was far ahead, not paying attention to them. And he hated it.

“Might. Hopefully.” He’s sure his face was betraying too much of what he was feeling. Anger. Frustration. Worry. Fucking love.

“Which is why I’m only telling you,” she said, with a pointed look at Zaeed’s back. “I don’t like this at all, Shepard. And not just because of what he was spitting in your face. Like you would’ve ever agreed to abandon ship for Vido.”

“We’ll deal with it after the mission,” Regis said, instead of replying to her directly. She was right. Zaeed knew what his usual code was.

But love changes things, doesn’t it?

There was so much love in his heart for Zaeed, for Kaidan. But this wasn’t a line he was willing to cross.

She only hums in response. “I’m sure it will pass no matter what happens. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and has your back. You're special.”

Before this mission, he would've readily agreed. Special now didn't mean shit when it meant Zaeed didn't come clean to him about what this mission was really about. Who was amongst the Suns they were trying to liberate the facility from.

He’s about to reply when Zaeed shouts there’s Suns up ahead, and it's back on the job, throwing out biotic support in the form of a shockwave so Zaeed can take them down more effectively.

Two shots clean to the heads of the stumbled mercs. Methodical. Clinical.

No different from usual. But without the usual banter between them.

He tried to not let it affect him.

It did anyway.

The floodgates were now open as the small back area was connected to some open room full of cargo and various machinery and mechanisms that Regis would ordinarily be a little intrigued by. Instead, it was a well placed battlefield, plenty of cover for them to advance against a large retinue of Suns.

“According to the plans, we're close to one of the landing and launching areas,” Kasumi said as they dived for cover, planting themselves behind a piece of sturdy machinery. Good on her for keeping an eye on things. Placating Zaeed with a reminder that they haven't forgotten what he wanted to do here.

Zaeed grunted. “Lots of fucking firepower in here. Still trying to stop us… The bastard must still be here.”

And Vido’s voice appears over the intercom of the refinery, confirming his suspicion. Taunting Zaeed. Reducing himself to petty insults. In Zaeed’s favor, he never reacted verbally. A pinched brow on his face, an annoyed twitch, a more forceful swing of his gun to bash in the brains of some unlucky bastard that decided to don the mark of a gang Zaeed once loved.

Vido was likely waiting for him, only to get away just before Zaeed could put a bullet in the head of the man that tried to do the same to him–but this time, Zaeed wasn't going to let there be any goddamn surviving or scars for someone to trace in bed.

A new sense of urgency heightened their actions, now free from rescuing the workers and able to commit to Zaeed’s plan.

Too little, too late, Regis figured in the end. Not going to mean shit if he still got away.

Engineers and biotics and all sorts of heavy hitters were left for them to deal with, burning through overloads and sabotages and everything they had.

He felt his amp hot underneath his skin as he tossed what felt like the hundredth singularity of the mission. Normally, Zaeed would be checking in on him, brushing a gloved hand over the back of his neck, hissing out a “Goddamn idiot” when he felt an unnatural heat before telling him fondly to reduce the light show.

He rubbed his neck and watched as Zaeed shot down the floating mercs without a glance behind him to make sure his biotic wasn’t overloading himself

None of this was fucking normal. Why assume he would go back to how things were before Regis told EDI to plot a course to Zorya.

Still, the mission wasn't over yet. But does that mean their normal will return?

He gritted his teeth when he heard Zaeed call out that they had a heavy YMIR mech on deployment.

He rushed forward to meet him behind cover, sniping another two mercs, leaving the mech the only thing left to deal with. Kasumi fired off a nasty program of hers to stun the bastard, before Zaeed threw out the last of his custom made inferno grenades, taking the mech down in a mess of melted electronics and plating before its core overheated.

He figured he would've saved those for Vido.

Did he use them for us?

Regis surveyed the area with his visor. No more hits. “Way’s clear. Kasumi, were those doors the way out?” He pointed to a set of doors across a bridge.

She reappeared next to him, her cloak fizzling out. “Sure are.”

“Then what the fucking hell are we waiting for?” Zaeed walked up next to him, adjusting the grip on his Mattock before stomping towards the door.

Regis wasn’t sure if he wanted Vido to be on the other side or not.

But of course, as they walked out into the humid air of Zorya, marred with smoke, a gunship was partially in the air, hovering over the ground. A hatch was closing with a flash of blue armor. Could be any Suns. Yet he found himself sprinting towards it with Zaeed and Kasumi at his heels.

"Not this time, Zaeed, you son of a bitch! See you in another twenty years!" Vido’s voice appeared over the speakers of the ship as it began to fly off, the blast of the jets causing Regis to stumble slightly. Kasumi stopped to help him up, giving her a soft thanks in reply.

Zaeed didn’t seem affected at all, fueled by rage and years of revenge, sprinting forward and firing blind shots with his Mattock at the retreating ship, yelling in a guttural, broken cry of defeat.

The clicks of an empty, expelled heat sink were deafening.

Regis stepped forward and watched the retreating gunship, raising his hand to try and contact EDI, but Kasumi shook her head next to him. “It’s too late.”

She was right. But he wanted to try anyway.

For Zaeed’s sake, not his.

“Walk ahead and get the shuttle ready.” He ordered quietly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

She started to protest. “I'm not going to–”

He interrupted her sharply. “Go, Kasumi. That’s an order. I'll handle him.”

She nodded and started heading up towards a clearing beyond the landing area.

Distantly, he heard the sound of a heat sink ejecting and hitting the ground and the sound of another one being loaded.

Time seemed to slow a moment later as Zaeed whirled around, gun still in his hand, and pointed it at him. Instinctively, Regis grabbed his Eagle from his belt, pointing it at him just as fast, seeing the gun first and not the man he loved behind it.

"You just cost me twenty years of my life!" Zaeed spat at him, not cowing down one bit. No, he wasn’t Zaeed anymore. This was Massani, the veteran merc. Massani, the lone wolf who always survives when no one else doesn’t.

Massani, the bastard that tackled him and pinned him to a wall in a dingy Omega alleyway when he and Kaidan were trying to escape from the fucking vorcha mafia.

No, he's still Zaeed. Don't let the man here now take away the man you love.

Regis felt his biotics roar underneath his skin, desperate to be unleashed, spurred on by the sheer rage he was feeling. Never did he expect Zaeed to point a gun at him.

Never did Regis expect himself to do the same in turn. His voice was cold, cruel, barking back at him with the same lack of regard for who they are to each other. "You've never stepped out of your old fucking ways, huh? Keeping all the details of the mission close to your chest so you can come out on top? See me as just another fucking merc that you can throw away for the best price on the target? Yeah, I remember your stories. You've never changed! If those twenty years meant something, then maybe you should've let me in.”

He narrowed his eyes and frowned, daring him to say something. But then he sniffed the air… was that gasoline?

Zaeed opened his mouth to argue, his face curved into a snarl, when a bright light caught his eye behind Zaeed. Shit, a fire.

An explosion appeared behind Zaeed, a loud blast in the air that propelled debris up in the air, barreling straight towards them.

Regis flared out, reaching out with dark energy to the steel beam and barely managing to fling it out of their path, the blast of energy causing Zaeed to stumble to the ground in a mess of smoke and violet biotics.

He cried out in surprise, slowly rising up from the ground. Regis stalked towards him and holstered his gun. “No words for how I saved your fucking life?”

Zaeed stared up at him, eyes narrowing. Mismatched eyes he loves to get lost in now clouded with anger. Rage…

He ignored what else was lurking underneath.

Regis scoffed, stopping right in front of him. “Right. I took away twenty goddamn years of it.”

He turned his back to Zaeed. “If you still give a fuck about the only mission that matters, Kasumi is hailing the shuttle. But you can sit here and lie in your decision if you want. Your goddamn call. Your goddamn last request, right?”

Walking away was easier than it should've been.

He wanted every word to hurt.

– –

He knew Zaeed would eventually make his way back to the indicated landing area.

It was a long flight. Silence between the three of them. Even Samson, their shuttle pilot, didn't say anything.

The tension in the air was evident.

Please, just say something.

He wasn't sure if was wanting Zaeed to say something or for him to get the bastard to explain himself.

The moment Samson touched down in the bay and announced they were clear for departure, they poured out of the shuttle as fast as they could. Zaeed didn't even look at him as he headed for the elevator.

Regis let him go and hung back with Kasumi. “Are you…” she trailed off, not quite meeting his gaze.

“No, I'm not.” He answered honestly. “But he made his fucking bed and he has to lie in it.”

“I'm not disagreeing with you. Shepard, you did the right thing. Without a doubt.” They stop and watch as the elevator doors close behind them. “This is his mess.”

“But?” He crossed his arms and gave her an expectant look.

She took her hood off and pulled out her hair, letting it fall down on her shoulders. “But you two are a good thing on this ship. Even if you both bite back against the gossip… Is one mission really going to tear you both apart?”

Regis frowned and this time, he didn't meet her gaze. “That's his decision to make, not mine.”

She hummed. “I'm here if you need me. Guess you're going to call your other beau?”

“He wasn't here. I'm not getting him involved.”

“He will, though.”

Regis did think about calling Kaidan. He also thought about calling some mutual friends. Or rather, a mutual friend. He can imagine Dove and how she would be chewing Zaeed out right then and there if she had the chance. Small mercies for friends like Sophie. Even if Zaeed's nickname for her tends to stick in his head half the time. And he can hear her yelling at him for that too.

He let out a sigh and trawled over to a nearby workbench to start loosening his gear. This should be done with Zaeed. “I'll call him later. I need to cool down.”

She rejoined him and started helping with his outer armor plating. “Don't argue. You're exhausted, aren't you? Don't usually see you go that hard with biotics.”

Normally, he would protest. He didn't this time, which was telling in a way he didn't want it to be. “Thanks. And yes, I am. Going to head up to Chakwas to get a basic scan.”

“Good. This probably also isn't a mission that should be in our books…” she said quietly, working through his armor with a surprising ease. It must've shown on his face, because she laughed. “I've nabbed your schematics for your armor. And watched you and Zaeed take it down. Don't act so surprised. You know me by now, right?”

He couldn't exactly argue with that. “It won't be. I can assure you that.”

“Throwing around your power. I like it.”

He let out a chuckle in response.

With her help, it was easy enough to get his armor off and stored back its container to be carried back into his room for later, leaving him with his guns to also be put back in his personal armory. He gave her another nod of thanks, and he headed towards the elevator.

His first destination was the armory, and thankfully, once he entered, Taylor was the only one inside. To his credit, he didn't ask him how the mission went and helped him check over his guns with a trained eye. “Balance is off on your Black Widow,” he commented.

“It's always off. Don't have the magic touch to fix it,” Regis replied, keying in his code to his locker and storing his Eagle and Valkyrie.

“Want me to take a look?”

He shook his head. “Only person I trust with a Widow is pissed off at me.”

“He flew in here and dropped off his extra heat sinks before disappearing without a word…” Taylor leaned against his workbench, leaving an opportunity for discussion open if he wants to take it.

Regis sighed and pinched his temples. “Mission went well for the parameters I was given. It did not go well for what it was really about for him.”

Taylor nodded. “I see. At least there's some downtime for him to cool off.”

A muttered comment in response was on the tip of his tongue. But he holds it and only nods before heading out to his next destination.

The elevator was empty for this trip as well. But these typical motions were almost always done with Zaeed, either together or with him waiting for Regis to return. It felt wrong without him.

The medbay was never a welcoming place, even more so with the specter of Cerberus hanging over them. Chakwas made it better, standing up and motioning for him to sit down on one of the beds. “Shepard, let me get a good look at you. Tell me, what's going on?”

“Amp that's a little overheated. A few cuts and scrapes and bruises. The usual,” he said, closing his eyes as she started to scan him.

“Yes, yes, I can see all that.” She was expecting him to continue. Regis didn't fall for it.

“That's all you're getting.”

She pursed her lips. “Your amp is fine, but take it easy on the biotics for the next day or two. Medigel will seal those little cuts on your face, and I'll send you out with some salve for the bruising. Blood pressure is elevated but not worryingly so.” she said methodically, shutting off her omnitool and crossing her arms against her chest, giving him a concerned look. “Regis, I know you and Massani are close.”

He got up from the bed. “Yes, everyone does. I'm fine, thanks for checking in.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“Call me if you want to share a cup of warm tea or cocoa.” Her look was sharp, but her smile was soft. “Someone needs to take care of you.”

Was it his imagination or did he hear an unspoken “Because he's not” in her voice? Or perhaps another reminder that Kaidan isn't here either to keep both of them in check.

She winked at him and grabbed a tub of salve from a cabinet. “Get some rest. Doctor’s orders.”

Now that was easily something he wasn't going to argue against. “I will. And also, my ship, my rules.” He stretched a little and took the salve off her hands. “Thanks.”

“It is never any trouble. Take care.”

Leaving the medbay knowing his amp was fine was a bit of a relief, but that left his final destination.

The cabin.

The elevator ride to it felt like something final in his heart. He’s probably down there in his corner of the ship in starboard cargo… wallowing in the anger or frustration or whatever the fuck he was feeling that pushed him away.

While he is up here alone.

He peels himself out of his undersuit and leaves it in a heap to be dealt with later. The next steps he takes are methodical. Step in the shower. Alone. Turn up the heat close to scalding. Alone. Wash his hair and body meticulously. All fucking alone.

It stung more than it should’ve. Getting used to having a partner with him, both on here and the damn SR-1 with Kaidan, made things easier on ships and missions like these. A privilege few can even claim to have.

But he reached for Zaeed’s body wash anyway, a smoky, spicy scented kind of thing that had quite the price tag. Regis always joked with him that he only got it because it drained Cerberus’s funds. And he never denied it.

Routine was all that mattered. Drying off. Working through all his next steps. Hair, skin, beard, and wound care…

And he was still alone.

As he walked out of the bathroom, he tossed his towel in the hamper to be dealt with later and walked over to his drawers to pull out a tank top and a pair of cotton joggers. He had no plans to leave his cabin until the next morning.

And thankfully, he had some ready-made soup to heat up in his mini fridge from the day before so he didn’t have to go back down. Enough calories to help him replenish his stores along with some protein bars.

It was also cold in the room, and normally instead of asking EDI to adjust the temperature, he would snuggle up against Zaeed on the couch or in the bed, going over reports and dealing with the tasks that befitted the commander and his unofficial XO. But it wasn’t a normal evening after a mission and by now, it was obvious he was spending it alone for the first time in a long white.

“EDI, adjust the temperature in my cabin by a couple of degrees, it’s too damn cold in here,” he said, looking around for his N7 hoodie. Instead of his hoodie lying on the desk chair where it was before the mission–that damn mission–it was one of Zaeed’s, large, worn, and smelling of gun oil, smoke, and citrus.

Regis's preferred body wash. Sweet, sharp, citrus.

“Belay that request,” he said a moment later, and EDI affirmed it, leaving the temperature as is. He grabbed the hoodie from the chair and inhaled deeply, wishing that it was the man it belonged to instead of a cold piece of fabric.

The nightmares will most definitely return tonight. Another thing Zaeed chased away. No dreams about dying in space or Kaidan or Zaeed in his place. No distorted memories of Torfan.

He tossed the hoodie on the bed and let out a frustrated shout. Full of anger and all of his vulnerabilities. Cursing and screaming the names of Cerberus, of T’Soni, of Zaeed even.

None of this was fucking fair. He can’t do this alone. He can’t. Zaeed is his only–

The beep of the microwave pulled him out of his fit. He took a few heaving, deep breaths before walking over to grab his food and force himself to choke it down.

He ignored the wetness on his face. The pressure in his sinuses.

No, this will not break him. It’s one fucking disagreement. He’s had plenty.

Tossing the empty bowl in the trash didn’t feel like a victory, even if it did make him feel marginally better after eating something. Nor did washing his face and pretending he wasn’t upset about what happened. About how much this was impacting him in every way.

So, he sat down at his desk and called Kaidan.

The vid call connected only a few minutes later.

Kaidan’s face appeared on the small screen of his display, unshaved with a longer beard that wasn’t just stubble. His expression was pinched, and his arms were crossed against his chest, wrinkling his T-shirt that advertised Rio and the Villa.

Zaeed’s definitely talked to him.

“I’m not getting involved,” Kaidan said flatly. “I wouldn’t even hear Zee out. No matter what he tried to grumble at me. So I’m not listening to you either. Work it out on your own.”

Regis blinked, feeling a little blindsided.

Kaidan sighed and touched his hand to the screen. Regis put his hand over his, the mockery of closeness the only thing they had. “All I know is that a mission that was meant for him didn’t go the way he wanted. I wasn’t there. I’m not going to pass judgment. He’ll cool off.”

He couldn’t help but snort. “I was thinking that, but our third wheel on the mission made a point that he was going to call you no matter what.”

Kaidan looked a little surprised at that. He's let him know that some people on the ship knew about him--and anyone on Horizon definitely knew. “Oh really? Well, I love you both. And I told him basically the same thing. You can overcome whatever this is–and tell me all the details later.”

“Did he happen to tell you what his request was about?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Kaidan leaned back in his chair, removing his hand from the screen. “A hit on the Blue Suns from Eldfell. No more details than that. And was cursing about ‘Goddamn Vido and bastards like Regis’ so I put two and two together.” He made a very inaccurate impression of Zaeed that almost made him smile. Almost.

“He did, huh.”

“Close to home, then.”

“More than a little. But I made a choice that–”

Kaidan interrupted him with a sharp whistle. “No, I’m not going to hear anything else. You made a choice he didn’t like. Okay. He may not have been up front with all the details. Alright. Seems like you both have a good foundation to talk shit out on, right?”

“You make it sound so fucking easy,” Regis shot back, wincing at how sharp he sounded a moment later.

Kaidan waved him off. “I’ll ignore that. Do you need me to stay on the line for a while? Talk to you about everything and nothing?” A ritual Kaidan would offer when they were apart. When nights seemed to be sleepless for Regis from insomnia taking over. Either from his damn L2 implant or memories from Torfan leaking in. These days, he can add in trauma from remembering exactly how he died, how every last breath felt until there was no more.

“It wouldn’t be fair to him if he wanted the same out of you.” It took a lot out of him to say that, knowing what was waiting for him when he closed his eyes. It was the truth. Regis valued fairness. Even if Zaeed may not do the same–he would and you know it–it wouldn’t be right otherwise.

“I could mute you on the other line. Same for him. Neither one of you would ever know.”

Regis shook his head with a fond smile. “I love you. Talk to you later.”

“Sleep well, love. If he calls back I’ll let him know we talked, just as I told him I was going to spill the beans to you. I love you too.” Kaidan smiled softly.

He returned his smile knowing it wasn’t reaching his eyes. “Wouldn’t expect anything different. Be safe.”

“I should be saying that to you, love. Talk to you later.” Kaidan ended the call.

He should get some more work done.

– –

Regis did not get much work done, beyond a few basic reports, some cleaning up of data, and some new bundles of data to send over to the Alliance later. Hours did pass, however, and it was nearing his typical bedtime.

All in all, a wasted evening. Not like he would’ve got much done if that mission had gone well.

He got up from his desk and finished getting ready for bed. Brushing his teeth, dimming the lights, and letting EDI know to send anything directed to him to his inbox.

The hoodie he threw on the bed stared at him. A grey and yellow fleece thing with a snake on the front. A cozy hoodie.

He reached out for it and squeezed it tightly before curling up underneath the covers, cuddling the damn thing.

It was too damn quiet. Zaeed was restless, often taking a while to settle in the covers and getting Regis just right in his arms. And he snored.

It was too damn cold. Even if he did bump the temperature up, it wouldn’t match the feeling of Zaeed’s body next to him, warming him up.

He stared up at the ceiling, at the tarp they put up together to hide the skylight.

Cerberus didn’t even have the fucking decency to give him a proper way to close the skylight.

No, sleep would not come easy for him tonight.

Hours of tossing and turning led to a restless sleep, before being assaulted with the feeling of air leaving his chest, unable to gasp and take another breath, Kaidan and Zaeed in his comms–a sound of plastic crackling woke him up with a shout.

One of the corners of the tarp had fallen, revealing the dark expanse of space.

“I sensed increased distress from you, Shepard. Do you need me to contact Doctor Chakwas?” EDI’s voice broke through the silence of the cabin. He willed himself to calm down, feeling his heart racing, taking deep breaths.

“No.” He hated how rough and wrecked he sounded. “Just a nightmare.”

“Understood, Shepard.”

He wasn’t going to get any sleep as long as he could see outside. As long as he knew it was visible. And so, with a throw wrapped around him, he made his way over to the couch and started back on his work.

The hoodie stayed on the bed.

– –

When his alarm went off, he groggily let out a yawn and realized that yes, he did fall asleep on the couch, and yes, his neck and back were crying out in pain. Lovely. Another thing to add onto the pile of bullshit he was dealing with today.

He trudged over to the bathroom and winced at his reflection. His scars and cybernetics almost seemed to be harsher. Dark circles underneath his eyes made the glow appear brighter.

Washing his face didn’t make him look any better. Nor did brewing himself a quick cup of tea to try and make him feel more awake. Not even styling his hair and ensuring his piercings were perfect helped.

Only when he put on his N7 officer uniform–black high necked jacket with red detailing, sturdy black boots, straight pants, black and red gloves–did he at least start looking like Commander Shepard. Sure as shit didn’t feel like him.

Before leaving… he walked over to the side table next to the bed–currently covered with a deconstructed Talon project Zaeed was working on–and pulled out the bottom drawer he put a false bottom in. Underneath was a small package he had picked up at the Citadel a few trips ago. Inside was a grey and yellow striped scarf. Just like the red and black one he wears. Just like the blue and grey one he gave Kaidan years ago…

Never could decide when he wanted to give it to Zaeed. Nothing felt right…

He got up and set the package on his desk and closed his eyes. Would he even still want it now?

It was time to return to being the Commander.

He decided to do some rounds around the ship, and despite how disastrous the mission on Zorya went, he wanted to reaffirm to the remaining ground crew that they all had an opportunity to tie whatever they needed up.

He already helped Kasumi. Went on a heist, flirted with a rich criminal and felt skeevy about it, until after the mission when Zaeed laughed his ass off after hearing the story from Kasumi… and helped her move on by destroying that grey box.

Krios was reunited with his son at the very least, but Regis felt himself having to hold back a lot of judgment. At least Koylat has a father. Never had the privilege to know Atlas Shepard.

Vakarian… the less he thought about it the better. He wasn’t keen on supporting his plan to assassinate someone on the fucking Citadel, even if the turian did lead to Vakarian’s team’s death. Mostly, Regis had little sympathy for the situation. If he never ran off to Omega, none of that bullshit would’ve happened. He believed Omega was worse off after his stint as Archangel, as gang activity rose up as a result.

Ultimately, Vakarian didn’t listen to him and took the shot on Sidonis.

Regis couldn’t trust him out in the field anymore. Did he ever?

Zaeed listened to his decision to go after the workers, isn’t that something?

He grit his teeth and stopped inside the medbay. As usual, Chakwas had a few muffins ready for him. Today, they were chocolate chip. It wasn’t lost on him that she set out the usual portion for him and Zaeed. He scooped the paper bag up after looking inside.

“I presume you two haven’t talked yet?” She asked behind a cup of steaming hot tea.

“That obvious?”

“I know when you haven’t gotten a wink of sleep.”

He let out a sigh. “I’ve slept better.”

“I wouldn’t normally advise it, but let me know if you need a stim.” From anyone else, he would’ve fought back against that caring tone. From Chakwas? He almost appreciated it.

He shook his head. “Today isn’t meant to be a busy one. Using the downtime to check in on everyone and the ship. As usual.”

“Take it easy out there today. And Regis? This too will pass. I think he just needed time to cool off,” she offered.

“Kaidan more or less said the same thing,” he admitted with a wry grin. “But he has to come to me.”

“I wouldn’t have expected anything else from Alenko–or you, in fact,” she chuckled. “He’s been good for you.”

Despite everything, he couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks for the muffins.”

“It keeps you coming in here.” She winked, and he let out a laugh.

“You think I don’t know your tricks?”

Chakwas merely took a sip of her tea, and he took his leave. At the beginning, he was angry that she decided to join Cerberus for him. Now he sees it as the boon it was.

Doesn’t mean it won’t stop bothering him that he instills that kind of loyalty in others.

He didn’t have any real plans in mind today. Usual check-ins… before going back to his cabin and doing whatever paperwork or reports were necessary. Unlike the SR-1, he never found a good groove. Fucking terrorist organizations. No actual organization that makes any sort of sense, and he didn’t give a shit about most of the crew on board the ship to ever enjoy doing his rounds.

They chose Cerberus. They were dead to him before it began.

But isn't it different for some? Like Miranda… you are slowly considering her a close confidant ever since you learned who sold your body to Cerberus.

He frowned at himself and found himself in front of her office and quarters anyway. He often makes a point to gain her perspective on the ship and what’s going on. And as much as he hates to admit it, he does consider her a friend. Brilliant mind, good with biotics… hell, they were similar in a lot of ways. But unlike her, he had some choices to make in his life. She had a father who only gave a shit about a legacy.

Sometimes it felt like all Hannah cared about was a good legacy. At least, after Torfan.

He knocks on her door and watches as the yellow lock turns to green and the door auto opens for him.

She nods at him as he walks in and the door shuts behind him. Like him, she was wearing a black and yellow high necked jacket–a design stolen from the Alliance like most Cerberus bullshit–and her hair was pulled up into a bun. “Good morning, Shepard,” she greeted, turning off her screen. “Or is it a good morning?” There was something good natured in her tone.

He shrugged. “Time will tell.”

“For what it is worth, I do believe you did the right thing.”

“It’s up to him to decide if he sees it the same way, not me or anyone else.”

She hummed. “There isn’t much for me to report to you… I did notice an uptick in the outputs of the core, but I attributed that to Jack and Massani sparring in the cargo bay.”

He blinked. He hadn’t realized that was going on. Jack had become quite close to Zaeed, ever since he offered his spot on the ship as a space for her beyond her spot in the underbelly of engineering. Considering Zaeed mostly spends time in his cabin these days… Sparring between them wasn’t out of the ordinary, but he can’t help but wonder if there was something more to this one. Normally, he’d watch. Not today. “Nothing to worry about, then.”

“Catch you off guard, did I?”

“I haven’t bothered looking at the engineering logs this morning.” He crossed his arms against his chest. “I hope she kicks his ass.”

Miranda merely raised an eyebrow. “So you two really haven’t talked.”

“Thought you weren’t much of one for gossip.”

“I’m not, but I do like it when the ship runs smoothly. You and him not seeing eye to eye has already caused a disruption.” She mirrored his pose. “I care about the crew in my own way.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Speaking of, have you thought about my offer?”

She nodded. “I’m still waiting for a contact of mine to get back to me, but I’ll let you know the moment they do. It’s sensitive.” A slight pinch of her brow betrayed how she was really feeling. Worried, perhaps? Maybe the contact was later than they should be?

This wasn’t the time to pry. “Just let me know.” He remembers the bag and takes out an individually wrapped muffin and tosses it to her. “Have a muffin.”

She catches it with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m guessing I’m not the normal recipient of the treat?”

He merely smiled and winked. “It’s not proper to question a gift.”

“Especially not from you.” She opened the wrapper. “Thank you, but–”

“He’s a grown man. If he wants a muffin, he can go to Chakwas himself.”

“I remember being on your bad side not too long ago,” she mused. “Knowing how you are with people you like… I’d hate to go back to how things were.”

A smirk tugged on his lips. “You’re saying you would beg for forgiveness?”

She let out a chuckle, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. “Me? Begging? Never. I can see him doing it, though, to get back in that cabin of yours.”

Regis couldn’t help but be unable to share in her enthusiasm. It’s the exhaustion, the tiredness from not sleeping with Zaeed keeping the damn nightmares away. It’s knowing that the skylight is visible and he couldn’t bare to fix it on his own, despite how fucking unreasonable that was. It’s remembering what the cabin meant to him before he recruited any soul on board this ship that wasn’t pure Cerberus. A prison with a taunting photo of Kaidan. And a dumbass fishtank that, once more, was removed all because of fucking Zaeed Massani and his admittedly great ideas. “It’s just a place to sleep.”

She tilted her head to the side and stood up, leaning against the side of her desk. “You can’t fool me that easily, Shepard.”

Should he come clean?

“Perhaps it would be a better place to sleep and find peace if there wasn’t a goddamn skylight.” His tone was flat, bored, daring her to say something.

To her credit, she didn’t flinch back. Something softened, though, along with a widening of her eyes that went away as fast as it arrived. She didn’t know that he remembered, did she? She cleared her throat. “Shepard, I only theorized how much you would remember. Most of us assumed very little, and I, naively, hoped the same.”

He nodded sharply. “Nearly to the last breath.”

A sharp inhale. Her hands grip the edge of the desk tightly. “I had no say in the construction of the ship. I know they put in a lot of windows and viewports…” she trailed off. “I'm sorry.” She met his gaze.

He could tell it was sincere. “Thank you. You know, one of the first things we did was figure out a way to cover up that damn thing. Doesn’t have a shutter like some other parts of the ship… tarp works well enough.”

“Well enough isn’t perfect.” She almost sounded bitter at the end. “I know you barely even allowed engineering to strip out that fishtank, much less for how long it will take to deal with that skylight…”

“I appreciate the concern, but I can deal with it until the collectors are a pile of corpses behind me. He helps.”

Miranda moved to sit back at her desk, almost looking like she wanted to say something. She cleared her throat instead and changed the subject. “And I appreciate the trust you’ve given me. This will remain between us, but do let me know if you wish to change the status of the skylight.” Not what he was expecting her to say. There seemed to be another comment about Zaeed on the tip of her tongue.

She’s observant. She can tell how much this short fucking distance is effecting him.

He nodded. “You know what will happen if this information gets out.” The threat wasn’t as strong as it may have been when he first became a prisoner under the unflinching hexagons.

“I know you quite well, yes. Take care, Shepard. And thanks again for the muffin.” She held it up. “You and him do make a good team. I hope this isn’t more than a temporary issue.”

“You and me both,” he said quietly, but he knew she heard it as he walked away. He took a deep breath once back outside. What the hell should he do now?

Talking to Samara always helped ground him, somewhat. There was something to be said about finding comfort in another biotic. Ever since he had let slip that he knew the asari language thanks to his matriarch uncle, a connection beyond the line of duty and the oath she swore formed between them. She was a close confidant, and these days, ever since her recruitment, she was slowly teaching him how to Reave.

Especially when she heard that Kaidan, a human, was able to do it.

Regis was making progress, but it will still take some time to get to Kaidan’s level.

And how beautiful those Reaves were on Horizon…

The door to her observation deck was open, like usual during the day. Samara wasn’t about to shut out part of the ship just for her usage.

She wanted for little.

“Shepard,” she greeted, sitting cross-legged on a mat in front of the large windows. An omnitool popped up on her arm and she flicked her wrist.

The shutters began to close.

It should bother him that she already knows his fear.

“Samara,” he greeted in turn, walking over as she moved over on her mat, giving him room to sit next to her. He mirrored her pose.

“You seem troubled this morning. Care to meditate?” she asked, her tone betraying no judgment.

He stared at the closed shutters. “Don’t know if I can get into that mindset.”

“We don’t have to. Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” She turned to face him.

He met her gaze. “Surely you’ve heard–”

“Word travels fast on this ship. Does not mean it has the full truth attached to it.” Was that a smile tugging on her lips after she interrupted him?

Perhaps it wasn’t a matter of what she’s heard but from who.

Would he have talked to her knowing about her code? Probably not. But she and Zaeed have made quite the interesting duo on missions.

Quite the powerhouse, the three of them.

He pressed his lips together before letting out a snort. “That’s quite a way to define gossip.”

She tilted her head slightly. “Am I wrong, Shepard?”

Now he was smiling. “No.” He let out a sigh. “Not sure if I want to recount it, and that’s the thing. I’ve been through worse.” Torfan. Eden Prime. Battle of the Citadel. “Through hell and back.” In more definitions of the word than just one. “Why is this troubling me so goddamn much?”

Her gaze returned back towards the shuttered windows. “I could tell there was a bond between you two the moment we met on Illium. A bond not just forged from battle. A bond forged from survival. A bond forged from love. Yes, Lawson complimented you both quite well. But you both fight as if you were once one.”

He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him.

“And I understand that you are not just a duo.” Her biotics flashed around her. With her field, strong, sharp, yet feeling like a soft feather next to him, he activated his own biotics, a violet barrier against her light blue. “A triad. Something quite uncommon, from what I understand about your people. Forged in the heat of battle. Made stronger from a stress that no one should have to endure.”

He felt one of his hands clench into a fist, his nails digging into his skin.

“I don’t foresee your bond being snapped by one mission. I know this isn’t a choice you can make alone. And if I was with you instead of Miss Goto… I would have supported your choice.”

Something was lurking underneath her tone.

“And if this was your target?” He can’t help but ask, blurting the question out. Her code fascinated him… but also made him wonder.

“There were innocents, but–” Her gaze lands back on him. “I would not have been as reckless as he was. But that isn’t the issue here, is it? It began before the mission.”

Another sigh escaped him, and this time, he looked away from her gaze. “We–I thought we told each other everything. Naively.” He spat. “But he sure as shit isn’t Kaidan. A bond forged from mutual survival… that applies to us all. And I don’t want him to be Kaidan…” He shook his head. “But I heard his story about Vido. More than once. Traced that scar with my fingers and my lips–” He cleared his throat. She didn’t budge at his slipped comment. “He knows my own story. My fears. What I intend to do once the Collectors are no more. Who I’m also waiting to enact my revenge on.” Destroy Cerberus. Destroy T’Soni.

“If he had told you?” She asked softly. Quietly. Barely breaking the silence.

Would it have changed anything?

“It would have changed everything. I’ve been blindsided on missions before. Intel drops the ball. Something changes at the last minute. Nothing is ever perfect.”

“I understand that quite well.”

He acknowledged her with a nod. “It was one thing to hear Vido’s voice on the comms. Another to face him directly and not feel like I could destroy him and his mercs with a well placed singularity.”

And another to save his life from his own mistakes. Not the first time in his life he’s had to save a man he loves. Kaidan on Virmire. Zaeed on Zorya. Both his loves were so close to being lost by fire… and he was the catalyst.

He couldn’t say that aloud just yet. Maybe never.

“Undermining him would’ve made things worse.” An observation, a comment. One that wasn’t wrong.

“That’s the conclusion I drew.” He took a deep breath. In and out. His field fizzled slightly, heighted from emotions, from memory tinged with anger. “Sorry.”

She flicked her wrist, as if she was waving him off. “Your biotics are often like a cloudy, overcast day. Calm, quiet, yet a volatile system that could strike and turn into a storm at any moment. Do not apologize for power. I did not feel that storm directed towards me.”

An interesting description. Kaidan’s own description wasn’t far off. A sea calm after a storm, but waves are still waiting in the distance to strike hard at land. A velvet cocoon. Soft, safe.

Until it rips apart.

“All this makes it obvious how much this is unsettling me,” he muttered, loud enough for her to hear.

“I’m afraid that was clear the moment you stepped inside.” Another smile at her lips. “My apologies.”

Her comment startled a laugh out of him. “That’s the nicest way someone’s ever told me I look like shit.”

“It brought you a moment of peace, did it not?”

She definitely was one of the better parts of this goddamn mission. “It did. Thank you. Yeah, you got what was bothering me. Hell, I already knew that I was pissed that he didn’t just tell me what his request was really about. Just… I have my own regrets too.”

“Saying things in anger doesn’t mean you think and assign meaning to them when the moment is calm.”

A lightbulb went off in his head. He never said anything about the end. And maybe she could infer that all on her own. Knowing that he would be bothered by something more than just a mission gone wrong. She’s seen him. She knows the way he can lash out with words sharper than a knife. “So you have talked to him?”

“It was late. He was restless. I invited him in for tea and meditation.”

The image that conjured up made him snort. Sure, Zaeed drinks tea with him, but he’s also seen him pour out some cups in the bathroom when he thinks Regis isn’t looking. And meditation wasn’t exactly the type of quiet time he enjoyed with him.

“Did you now?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I did not allow him to say a word about his request until he finished a cup of tea and sat quietly for ten minutes. I happened to choose an asari blend you enjoy. Vi’la leaves?”

He nodded, recovering a little after blinking a few times at her statement. “My uncle introduced it to me. Similar to earth green tea, but sweeter. Didn’t realize you had any on hand. It’s a bitch to get outside of asari space.”

“You are welcome to partake in my stash. He did not realize I gave it to him unintentionally, but he’s more observant than most. In the end, he did confide in me.”

“He did, huh.” More bitterness leeched in.

“There is one thing I will leave with you. When you’ve been alone and on your own for so long, it’s difficult to accept the open arms of others. Consolidating past memories with current opportunities does not come easy. Falling back in old habits feels safe. Accepting a new reality is not.” Her biotics ceased and she stood up. “It is time for me to fix myself a meal.” She offered a hand to him.

He took it and let his own barrier dissipate. “You have given me a lot to think about.”

“I always enjoy our chats. And Shepard? I am nearing completion of the details of my own request. I appreciate what you are doing for the crew.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do. Thanks for everything.” He followed her out of her room and stopped at the elevator, watching as she headed towards the small kitchen.

He called for the elevator.

It’s not about you. It’s never been about you, has it? It’s always been about Vido, and what that incident did to him. Of course he’d still be feeling the sting of such a betrayal.

Survival comes first. Wasn’t that something you believed in after Torfan, trying to push Kaidan away, as if he was tainted by being with you?

Maybe he didn’t want Vido ruining something else for him. And that… failed quite spectacularly.

Maybe he felt safe in his old ways. A mission all to his own…

The elevator arrived and he entered his personal code for his cabin.

The doors opened quick enough. And he headed straight back towards his desk, pulling off his gloves and tossing them next to a quarian ship replica he was working on and a part of one of Zaeed’s trigger mods.

What now? Does he send him a message? Does he go down to his part of the ship?

A ping on his terminal cut through the silence of the cabin.

ZM: Are you in your cabin? I think we need to talk, baby.

His heart began pounding in his chest. We need to talk. Not a phrase anyone loves to hear.

But that endearment.

Baby. Not goddamn idiot or asshole or bastard or any combination of the words.

RS: I am. It’s always open for you, Zee.

In return, he’ll send him his nickname. A teasing little letter.

To show things haven’t changed.

Yet.

No, nothing will fucking change. What did Samara say? Bonds forged in stress and survival. This is just an extension of that.

Waiting for those doors to open felt like an eternity. Waiting for that lock to turn from yellow to green.

Waiting for Zaeed to step out and–

That sound.

He tilted his chin up, crossing his legs in his chair. Pure confidence. Nothing will shake him.

Not even–Zaeed, revealed by the doors. Wearing his work pants and a basic T-shirt and his goddamn N7 hoodie. He looked like shit otherwise. Dark circles. A furrowed brow.

No rage dancing behind those eyes right now.

He steps forward slowly. “There’s a lot more I owe you than just a goddamn talk.” His voice is a warm gravel, yet tinged with… regret. Sorrow. Pure unadulterated emotion.

“You do.” He replied back, curtly, and immediately winced. He meant to keep the bitterness away. Dull the knives still waiting to be unleashed. Hold back the acid meant to hurt and burn.

All Zaeed did was nod. Not even say another fucking word.

So Regis stands up and closes the distance, reaching out for a hand. A touch. Feeling that rough skin indicative of a life of action and fights and survival. “Let’s sit on the couch.”

“Lead the way.”

The grip they shared was tight. A lifeline. He guided him over and sat down next to him, their legs touching, at least. No cuddling. No cradling. Not yet.

Regis focused his gaze on him, searching for something that wasn’t so fucking out in the open. Zaeed met his gaze, flicked his eyes upward before back at him, and cleared his throat. “I need to start by saying that Vido getting away isn’t something I’m going to easily forget. Not for one goddamn minute. I’ll always be pissed that he was so fucking close to meeting whatever sorry bastard made him exist in this shithole of a universe. But–”

None of that was surprising. Still stung. His eyes narrowed.

He still let him say his piece. All he can do, right? Zaeed made the move to talk, and Regis wasn’t going to shut him out. Not when his heart ached and yearned and wished.

“Icing you out and acting like I could do this all alone is all my fucking fault. Vido getting away… is not just my fault. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking by not just spitting out what my bullshit was really about.” Zaeed’s hand moved to grip his thigh. Regis put his hand on top of his.

Softening his gaze, he took a deep breath. Focused back on the man he loved with all his heart. The man that helped complete him alongside Kaidan.

He’s always been Zaeed. You know what he’s like.

“That’s exactly it. You weren’t thinking… but maybe you were. Just because we’ve shared this bed and said the four letter magic word doesn’t mean that secrets need to always be shared.” He squeezed his hand. “But what you did made me wonder what the hell I may have done for you to not trust me when…”

He trailed off. When I told you all about T’Soni. About dying in space. About how much Cerberus struck fear in how they were able to bring me back...

He cleared his throat. “When I could’ve just flinged that bastard off the balcony with a beautiful fucking lightshow as you nailed him in the head with a damn headshot.”

He knows what you really wanted to say.

Zaeed raised up his other hand and touched it to the Blue Suns tattoo on his neck. A tattoo Regis worshiped just a few nights before. “I’m not good at this shit. I’m… no. I’m not mad at you. Far from it. I’m pissed at myself for turning into the bastard I thought I buried when I met you and Kaidan. When I realized that maybe being on my own was a sack of shit. Even when we all lied to ourselves and walked away.”

Regis found himself leaning into him at that statement. Zaeed wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into his side. He inhaled deeply. Smoke, gun oil, citrus, home and love and Zee.

“I thought going back into my old ways was the only fucking way to handle this. Despite having you and your skills by my side. This has been my goddamn plan, my goddamn revenge for years, and part of me couldn’t stand knowing that someone got the shot off of Vido before I could. I survived and made a name for myself for years under that mindset. What was one more fucking mission.” The venom directed at himself made Regis knit his eyebrows. The self-deprecation.

The words he remembered flinging back at him on that landing area.

But he still let him speak.

“Nothing you said was a goddamn lie. You know me too well. Maybe I haven’t really changed. Maybe I am still just a merc vying for survival and a big payout all to myself… never giving a shit about anyone else involved. Maybe that’s why I didn’t come back up to our bed. Let you sleep alone… because I treated you like every piece of shit I’ve worked with.”

Another wince. Remembering what he said to him, remembering how much he wanted him to hurt.

Regis studied his face. Open and full of regret. “When I said those things to you… all I wanted to do was make you hurt, Zee. You have changed. You're a better man than you were.” He shook his head at himself. “Even during our days when we first met on Omega, when we were two goddamn Alliance idiots fucking up your hit on a target, you never treated us like two bit mercs picked up off a street.” He gestured over to the bed, and Zaeed followed his gesture. His face softened when he saw the hoodie. “I slept with the damn thing and I wanted it to be you so fucking bad and–”

“Everything is my fuck up, Regis,” Zaeed said, interrupting his rambling, his hand moving to cup his face. Zaeed opened his mouth to continue, but Regis surged forward to claim his lips, pressing a soft kiss against them, swallowing anything he was going to say.

“We both made mistakes yesterday. Let me say my piece,” Regis murmured against his lips before pressing a kiss next to the scar by his white eye. Zaeed's eyes closed at the contact, letting out a sigh before nodding.

“If it absolves you, Zee, you're forgiven. We aren't perfect. Shit happens. We're owning it right fucking now. But–” His voice cracked. “I nearly saw you die. That fucking beam--if I wasn't there with my biotics, who knows what would've happened. And in the moment and after I was so fucking pissed you didn't acknowledge that.”

Zaeed's eyes were still closed, but his face was tightly knit together. Regis moved to cup his face instead, letting himself be vulnerable, admitting yet another fear in his heart. “There’s been two times in my life now where I nearly saw my lover die. And I was the catalyst that prevented it from happening. The catalyst that may have even caused the fucking situation to happen.” Sending Kaidan to the bomb site. Choosing the workers on Zorya instead of Vido. Even if he saved them all–Ash and Kaidan, Zaeed and the workers…

“And–” Regis’s voice cracked again, and he cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. “And I was so fucking angry that you didn’t acknowlege what it means when someone I love is in danger? Isn’t that fucked? We’re not even ready to face that damn Relay and I couldn’t handle seeing you–”

“Regis, baby,” Zaeed said, cupping his face and making him face him. Glowing red eyes to mismatch scarred and green. He met his gaze and blinked away the frustrated tears that were forming. How fucking pathetic. “I should’ve said something. Should’ve acknowledged what you did and continued to do. Shoud’ve been me in that fucking bed even if we couldn’t stand to look at each other… fixed that tarp for you.” He let out a rough sigh and snorted at himself, clearly unkindly. “Again, all this bullshit is because of me. What would putting a bullet in that fucking bastard’s head done for me? Couple of seconds of glee before his corpse cools? And realize… twenty fucking years led to that… That I wasted twenty fucking years, no one else…” His voice was a low growl before he closed the distance between them, their foreheads touching. Regis leaned into the touch, feeling something in him… soften and almost break down with how fucking raw Zaeed was being right now. Never quite expecting this from the man.

Jack must’ve really kicked his ass. Maybe he should get his head checked out.

“We will handle the Relay together as a goddamn team, always as a goddamn team. Just like we promised after you recruited me and I saw you again. Samara also kicked my ass.”

Regis snorted at that, interrupting him. “How we are as one. How we should always be.”

He barked out a laugh. “Thought it was a sack of stinking shit until I thought about it longer than a goddamn minute. Should’ve realized that far sooner. No more secrets. No more hiding shit. Just us.”

“I think you already knew all about it… considering you never bitch to me when I almost always drag you along,” Regis teased slightly.

Zaeed smiled back. “I bitch, just not to you about it.”

“Thought we just agreed to no more secrets.”

“Didn’t say it applied to past bullshit,” Zaeed chuckled, kissing his forehead.

“Fair enough, you bastard.” Regis shook his head, smiling. “I love you. Always. Our bullshit didn’t change that.” Never will. “We’re making it right and acknowledging our shit, and we both made mistakes.” He gave him a hard look. “I could’ve done more before entering that damn refinery. Or–” He cut himself off sharply. “Doesn’t matter. Things could’ve been different. It’s about what we do now. And how I’m going to use every resource I can to help you hunt that bastard down, just as you’re willing to do for me and my due with T’Soni…”

Zaeed pulled him in close, pulling him in against his chest. “We’re going to win. We’re going to get your revenge. And I’ll take that promise of yours when the time comes and get my due. But for now? I have you back in my goddamn arms and I should have never let you go. I love you too.” He moved to plant himself more comfortably on his lap, staring down at him. His boyfriend. His comrade. His everything. “As I said, you’re forgiven. I know you aren’t going to let me go tonight. Or tomorrow.” Or ever. A yawn escaped him and he cursed at himself. “Well, shit.”

Zaeed pressed a kiss against his lips, a soft and chaste one, all things considered. “I didn’t get a minute of good sleep either. Punished myself and you.”

“We’ll just have to make up for it.”

There was still plenty they needed to talk about. Lay more shit out. But this was enough for now.

And if he was honest with himself, it was all he needed. Acknowledgement of what went down. How they need to do better. Being back in his arms…

“Your goddamn ship. Your goddamn rules,” Zaeed chuckled. “Chakwas could write you a damn note.”

“I have on good authority that she will.”

“Abuse that power of yours.” A fond expression was on his face. “Couldn’t believe Kaidan iced me out at first.” He almost looked annoyed now if it weren’t for the smile tugging on his lips.

“I couldn’t believe you got to him first,” Regis laughed. “And zipped inside my cabin to nip my hoodie.” He pulled on the hoodie strings.

“Selfishly, I wanted a part of you, but didn’t want to face you or some shit… still working that out. Consolidating all the shit in my fucked head.” A wry smile formed on his face. “We should call him.”

It hasn’t been quite a day yet, but he so desperately wanted to hear his voice and see his face again.

“Let’s move to the bed first.” But Regis made no move to get up.

Zaeed rolled his eyes. “I’ll pick you up, princess.”

“Wasn’t that many evenings ago you were the one who was writhing against that pillow.”

“Takes one to know one, then,” he conceded with a smirk, picking him up as they stood up from the couch. He wrapped his arms around his neck and squeezed his legs around him, smiling as he sat him down next to his hoodie. Before Zaeed joined him, he unzipped his jacket and tossed it to the side and pulled on the hoodie. The one he wanted to wear but didn’t. Figured the smell would stay longer if he just cuddled the damn thing….

But the real damn thing was pulling him against his chest and none of that fucking mattered anymore.

It was easy to reach for his portable display on their nightstand and queue up Kaidan’s number. Didn’t take long before it connected and his face filled the screen, concerned only for a brief moment before a warm smile broke out on his face, lighting up the room despite being so far away. “Hey boys. You both look like shit.”

They both laughed. Zaeed snorted. “Great to see you too, baby.”

“Couldn’t resist. I love you both.” Kaidan adjusts his screen, and he notices the uniform he’s wearing. Blue high necked Alliance jacket much like the N7 one he was wearing before trading it for Zee’s hoodie. “Caught me on break, by the way. I’m on Arcturus with some of my new students…”

They launched into a conversation about everything and nothing. Learning about the work Kaidan was doing post Horizon. Biotic students and potential spec ops squads. Checking in on their on-goings on the Cerberus ship. New recruits. Possible future recruits. Opinions on current ones…

Acting like everything was normal.

But they only had so much time…

“It made my day seeing you both trading hoodies, especially after last night.”

“He stole mine,” Regis laughed. “Traded it for his.”

“You appreciated the goddamn gesture anyway.”

Kaidan just stared at them adoringly. “See, I knew you two would be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zaeed waved him off. “I love you, you bastard.”

“Oh, I’m a bastard now? Not Regis?” Kaidan teased.

“So what exactly did you call me when you talked to him last night?” Regis asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You're a smart little bastard. I’m sure you can figure that out.”

He rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing little about me and you know it.”

“Your tolerance for bullshit is quite short,” Kaidan purred with a wink.

He missed this so goddamn much. Missed having Kaidan by his side… by their side. “You should be thankful you are many systems away,” he purred back. Zaeed kissed him on the top of his head, ruffling his curls.

Kaidan opened his mouth to reply, but a quiet alarm sounded from his end of the call. He made a face, furrowing his eyebrows and losing that easy, open expression. “I wish I could stay on longer, but I need to get back. I love you both. Stay safe out there.”

Both him and Zaeed murmured a soft, quiet, “I love you, too.”

“Be safe out there, baby,” Zaeed affirmed. “We’ll be just fine. We have each other, yeah?”

“I long for the day the three of us are together. I might even make N7 soon…” He trailed off with a grin. “Kick the Collectors asses.”

“Hell yeah, love. Can’t wait to see you in the stripes. We’ll destroy them in your honor,” Regis said, his hand moving to lay on the screen. Zaeed’s hand joined his, and Kaidan pressed his against the screen before ending the call.

This was the time.

He raised up out of his arms, and Zaeed made an annoyed noise. "Why the hell are you getting up?"

"Got something I need to get," he replied, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose.

"And you can't get it with your damn biotics?"

"Chakwas told me to lay off them for a day or two." He bit back the comment about someone who didn't keep an eye on his usage. "I'll just be one second." He held up a finger and walked over to grab the scarf box from his desk and handed it to him once back on the bed. "Picked this up a while back from an order on the Citadel. Never could figure out a good time to pass it on... but there's never really a perfect time for anything," he rambled on as Zaeed took off the top.

Zaeed's face softened before taking out the scarf, holding it up. "And here I almost fucked--"

Regis closed the distance between them, cutting him off, swallowing whatever apologetic bullshit he wanted to spew. "Don't want to hear it." He whispered against his lips when they broke apart, when Regis kissed down the scar on his face. A mark of survival. A mark of revenge.

Zaeed put the scarf on. "Is this your way of giving me a fucking marriage proposal?"

He sounded so fucking happy and earnest that a snort escaped him. "You know, Kaidan and I always treated it like one too. Once we're together again, I'll put in something for some matching scarves for all of us, but this is yours. You're a Shepard. And from what I know about Atlas, I think he would be okay with you joining in on the tradition. Because I'm told he was a stubborn bastard, and who else but the asshole who warms my bed?" A smirk tugged on his lips.

One also tugged on Zaeed's, his eyes shining despite the low light.

Wearing a scarf on armor as a way to differentiate yourself. An act of individuality. Another way of identification that barely passed regs.

A sign that you are part of Regis Shepard's family. First Kaidan. Then Ashley.

Now Zaeed.

And this time, Zaeed closed the distance between them, pushing his tongue into his mouth and holding him tightly as they poured their love and passion for each other in every touch and taste.

When they broke apart and Zaeed’s arms wrapped around him tighter, he didn’t say a fucking word. He pressed up against him as close as he could, closing his eyes and inhaling his scent, feeling his warmth and love.

Nothing more than quiet touch and reassurance.

Later, Zaeed will fix the tarp, and maybe Regis will submit his request for some “medical leave” and spend the rest of the day catching up on sleep… and taking the time to make up on lost time with each other.

Now? Regis was content with being in his arms once more.

More talk, more comfort, more enjoyment in each other and their bodies can come much later.

And when he looked up at the corner of space revealed by the unstuck corner of the tarp, he didn’t feel like he was losing the ability to breathe as long as he was in Zaeed’s arms.

#mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #cleric's writing #masshenko #regis shepard #zaeed massani #kaidan alenko #fucking hell this is done #soooo self indulgent but I'm done!!!!

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ffocarchive · 6 months ago

Text

he's taller than me and I am a simple man. don't click to keep reading.

I MAINTAIN, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘶𝘱, THAT 𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐔𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐗 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐓 is the only character who both cared about Lunafreya and actively tRIED to PROTECT HER over the course of the game. Everyone else was asleep at the wheel. Including Shiva.

If Lunafreya has 1 fan, it's Ravus. If she has 10 fans,

⭒⋆｡˚ It's R a v u s ˚｡⁺⭒

and 9 empty slots.

As an older sibling myself, I feel a camaraderie with him.

AND I appreciate that he disliked Noctis for solid reasons. If my sister was bent on some dinky little emo kid who has the gall to respond to her notebook messages the way you're allowed to in-game, I would simply. kill him. I love Noctis. Genuinely. But from Ravus's vantage point, that dreary walking mop is a menace. ᴬᴺᴰ ʸᴱᵀ, TO HIS OWN DETRIMENT, Ravus tries to honor Lunafreya's feelings and the prophecy she believed in by acquiescing to Noctis in the end. It's so sweet. He is ALL in. And then he's dead. Caelums are not trustworthy. I extend that criticism to every last Caelum ever, not just Ardyn — can't trust ♚Noctis♚ because if you are in danger he will find a chocobo and ride it. not toward you, just, in a big circle, meandering.

Ravus had an admirable little arc that's undoubtedly 80% happenstance and 20% purposeful character building, given the unequal force with which plot rewrites smacked Ravus specifically off a cliff, so he gets extra points for being such an underdog in this story. And then there was this book Squinex let happen because their company exists in some bizarro pocket dimension where All the Bravest was a good idea that deserved to stay on the app store for t͟e͟n͟ ͟y͟e͟a͟r͟s͟, and in this book Ravus is mentioned 13 times. These mentions are, in order:

Recalling that Ravus slept soundly when he was a kid

Recalling that Ravus didn't much care for the gods

Musing that Ravus might still live with his family if not for Ardyn

Just his name followed by a full stop.

Noting that Noctis is between Ignis and Ravus on the ground

The line from Episode Ignis where Ravus asks Luna not to leave

Noting that the above line was spoken in anguish

Recalling something Ravus said to Noctis at Aracheole

Remarking that Ravus watched Luna waste her energy on Noct

Remarking for emphasis that Ravus did not like Noctis

A passing insinuation that Ravus is good at five finger fillet

Musing that there's more to Ravus than Noctis knows

Regis wants to ask Ravus the identity of another character, but doesn't, so Ravus doesn't move or talk and that's the end of the book

Which is to say, in the longest way possible, that the book further compounds his underdog status, as does that concept art where everyone is hanging out with Luna's kids, including the man who backhanded her and killed her for fun, BUT RAVUS IS MISSING??? THEIR UNCLE??? THE UNCLE WHO HASn'T HIT A WOMAN ON-SCREEN FOR ALL OF US TO SEE??????????? THE UNCLE WHO DIDN'T KILL THEIR MOM????????

Also he looks hella good standing next to Ignis... 👀👍 i like ravnis

and that is why jaksndsjknawjklnesdfzxcd send post

#mod: mae #thank you for asking #i am so sorry #ffxv spoilers

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hanzajesthanza · 1 year ago

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"vampire that has resolved to not drink blood" is a done trope already that makes a sympathetic character out of a well-known mythological creature, but regis' character actually transcends the trope even more by using some crucial changes to tell a compelling story about addiction.

because following the trope, the vampire has sworn off of blood out of a noble cause, most likely not wanting to harm humans. but, were they to drink blood, it would be only natural for them to "give in," as it were, and it would be an instinctual (and perhaps animalistic) act.

but vampires in the witcher don't need blood to survive, it's like alcohol for them. so for regis, blood is not a life-giving force. it's actually the opposite.

it's what tortured him for centuries, slowly and miserably, in happiness and swaggering boldness and heartbreak and tragedy, it became everything and he lost everything. the very reason of his death.

so when regis was recovering, trying to stay sober, and wanted a drink—it's not like in the trope, where, if he could just have a little blood, it would heal him or cure him or dispel his hunger and anxiety... no... it would do the opposite. it would send him back on a downward spiral, he would not consume the blood, it would consume him. it would turn his life back into a dreadful hell. and eventually, kill him. again.

there's no good reason that he wants it. it's not logical, it's not for survival... it's just there, gnawing at his psyche and agonizing him.

it's not a physical self-restraint and a battle with the physical body which in its very nature could only ever require such a thing to live, it's a psychological self-restraint and a battle with the mind, which aches for something that will ease suffering in times of pain, grant boldness in times of cowardice. it's not an animalistic struggle, it's an exceptionally human one... his tortured intellectual character is fully suited for this story.

for the trope vampire, the audience maybe... wants them to drink blood. maybe we're sympathetic to their "cravings," for all of us have probably also wanted something only natural to us, but denied ourselves it out of social constraints or loftier ideals. we see them as a being deprived of food, of love, of life... why not just a little, after all?

but for regis, i think the audience should see his relationship with blood for what it is—recovered alcoholism. it's not "oh, if he could just drink a little blood..." "surely, there could be a way he could do it just to satisfy a desire..." no! he finally escaped from it, he finally got away from it through very difficult introspective work.

he can finally live his life without it, he can be free from it. he no longer desires it, it's not anything to him any more. because he embarked not only on a journey of recovery and sobriety, but of self-love, inner peace, healing.

to drink again would kill him. "him" as we know him now... he would have to find himself in an utterly dark, entirely hopeless, complete place of despair to be forced into drinking again. ...

#the witcher books #c: regis #emiel regis #starts crying but i turn it into a breakdance #when dandelion is like: 'not at all? not at ALL? NEVER? BUT-' and geralt asks him to stfu... the fandom and i <3 #analysis #i guess

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ertrunkenerwassergeist · 1 year ago

Note

In 'welcome home please stay' - how do Regis et al react to the news that the Galahdians, for the most part, don't /want/ to come back to Insomnia?

"It was certainly unusual," Regis murmured into the quiet room.

All three occupants of his private office - including him - were staring at the stack of envelopes a... sentient breath of wind? had ploped down on his desk, all the while giggling about somthing in a language none could understand.

Cor let his sword vanish back into the armiger, while Clarus also slowly relaxed his stance. Regis gently poked one of the letters, his magic churning beneath his skin like a river of crystalline glass. Nothing happened.

"What was that?" Clarus demanded to know, even though he knew no one could answer.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Regis said. "However these appear to be quite ordinary letters."

"You sure?" Cor asked eyeing the stack like it might come alive and try to murder them.

They were quite eclictic, the envelopes. Some were large and thick - a normal brown - some were smaller and red or green or blue aor any other colour under the sun. Those looked like they were from store bought birthday cards. Some were ordinary envelopes and others looked like they had been folded by hand out of whatever had been available.

"They reek of chaos," Cor rumbled. "Be careful, Regis. Getting letters from fae is never a good thing."

"They are addressed to my official name, and all are written by a different hand, from what I can tell. If I had to venture a guess, whatever brought the letters here was simply delivering them," Regis said.

He picked one of them up. One of the larger ones. The paper of the envelope was thick and of high quality - a beautiful golden brown sealed with greyish black wax. A finely detailed flower was depicted in it.

Picking up a letter opener, Regis carefully upened the envelope and pulled out a thick stack of papers. After skimming over the first few lines, he felt the colour drain from his face.

"Regis?"

Clarus took a step closer in worry.

"This letter is from one Luche Lazarus. With this he is handing in his resignation from the Glaive and states his refusal to step back on Lucian soil unless he has to."

"... What?"

#ask #hamelin-born #ffxv #fae au #welcome home please stay #glaive mass resignation #that desk will soon be buried under letters #poor regis #geist writes #geist answers

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savage-rhi · 6 months ago

Note

“maybe, in another life” kisses: knowing that this is the last time you’re going to kiss them, and making it count. pulling them in and then away. parting, your lips lingering for more. Noctis and one of the chocobros? (Your choice🙂)

Coming up!

The night had been filled with all the elements of life: sharing memories that had come and gone, both good and bad. Moments of silence and reflection on past deeds and regrets. Laughter and tears shed between four men who loved each other beyond words, having one last camp night before fate and the gods would shatter the bonds of brotherhood.

As the final embers in the campfire disappeared, Noctis felt his own spirit leave his eyes. Like the dying flames, he knew the night would set upon his own light. The final battle with Ardyn--the last of the Lucian kings--was around the corner: eight hours and counting.

He wanted to sleep, but what was the point when he'd soon have all eternity to rest? After confirming Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto were sound asleep, he left his chair and wandered off.

Noctis didn't stray too far from camp due to the daemons running around, but he gave himself enough distance to where he couldn't sense the presence of his friends. Sitting down on the edge of the cliff, he looked out into the desert of the Leide region. A warm wind coursed through his hair like fine fingers cradling every strand. He hoped the end would bring a similar peace. He even prayed the outcome would be the same for Ardyn. The crystal had shown the man's suffering to where Noctis didn't have it in him to hate his great uncle for his transgressions. Although, the thought of Lunafreya and her last words came and went through his mind.

"Soon, Luna…" He frowned, closing his eyes.

"Couldn't sleep either?"

Noctis jumped, turning his head as he saw Prompto's dark silhouette approach. He let out a breath of relief and chuckled. "I could've killed you just now."

"And after that wholesome speech you gave? That would've sucked!" Prompto laughed. He plopped himself next to Noctis, patting him on the shoulder and sighed.

"Is your mind traveling a million miles too?" Noctis asked.

"Yup!" Prompto nodded. "I keep thinking about the what-ifs."

"Dad would've said something along the lines of 'worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, it only saps today of its joy.'"

"Did he get that out of a fortune cookie?" Prompto snickered. He let out a yelp as Noctis playfully slugged him.

"Y'know what?" Noctis scoffed, grinning as he turned his head to face him. "I wouldn't be surprised if he did!"

In between laughs, Prompto frowned. "I miss him a lot."

Noctis nodded. "Me too."

"Like…how I'm going to miss you." Prompto somberly replied.

A heavy air sat between the two friends as they both allowed one another to sit with their feelings. A tension had been growing ever since they had set up camp with Gladio and Ignis, and both knew it was coming to a head.

"Do you remember that time we stayed up talking on the motel roof?" Prompto whispered, breaking the quiet.

"Can't forget it," Noctis murmured with a smile. "This feels similar, huh?"

"Yeah," Prompto nodded. He bit the inside of his bottom lip, looking toward his feet dangling off the cliffside and continued. "I have something…just as big that I want to share with you."

Noctis frowned, turning his attention fully to Prompto. "I'm listening."

Prompto closed his eyes, gathering up his courage as he tensed his shoulders. He managed to force himself to look Noctis in the eye, vowing he wouldn't be a coward and swallow his feelings back anymore.

"When Regis told the gang you were getting hitched, I was happy for you. Hell, I was ecstatic when you asked me to come along with you, Iggy, and Gladio to the wedding. At the same time, I felt…jealous. Not only was my best friend taking a huge step, and I probably wouldn't see him for a long time, but also…"

"Prompt…"

"Look, when we lost Luna, I was devastated. I mean no disrespect to you or her. I just…gods be damned I wanted to tell you that I…ever since high school, I…" The words wanted to fall from Prompto's lips, but alas, his cowardice took hold and prevented him from trespassing any further. He sniffled, feeling tears brimming at the corner of his eyes.

"I can't do it…even knowing what's going to happen, I can't tell you how much I--"

That's when he felt it.

Noctis's lips pressed to his.

Eos, fate, and destiny, it all faded away as their mouths met each other's with tenderness. Soft and gentle, but as they both realized the depth of their mutual feelings, the kiss deepened. Emotions that had been bottled up at long last finally saw the light of day.

Prompto's heart pounded in his chest as Noctis pulled away. Breathless with their foreheads resting against one another, he started to cry as his smile grew.

As Noctis retreated a little more, he let out a breath through his nose and somberly smiled as he cupped the side of Prompto's right cheek.

"Maybe in another life," Noctis murmured. "This could've worked."

"Yeah," Prompto breathed, nuzzling his face into his palm. "Whatever happens, at least we had this moment."

"Let's make it longer."

They sat together--hand in hand--looking out at the desert landscape. The future was uncertain, but for now, they had found clarity and comfort in each other, and that was enough.

If you like my work and feel generous, feel free to donate to my ko-fi account or my cash app account!

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#drabbles #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #ffxv noctis #ffxv prompto #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv noctis #final fantasy xv prompto #promptis #ff15 #prompto x noctis #noctis x prompto #ff15 noctis #ff15 prompto #male pairing #male ship #final fantasy xv fandom

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zwy01 · 1 year ago

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Raegyn doodles!

Yaaaaaaa giving my snarky smartass boy some love.

This is my OC, Raegyn Kertia! He is Regis and Rael’s son, and the latter’s heir.

I haven’t gone in depth with his backstory yet, so I figured I could do that lol. He’s one of my 15 “main” characters of my Millennium AU and his full bio is up in my pinned post.

I’ll be mentioning some other names in here too so to quickly recap, Raegyn is the older one of the two Regis/Rael kids and his full-sibling and younger sister is Arya K. Landegre. (Raegyn has three half-siblings, with his elder half-brother Kaelestis Blerster on Rael’s side, and younger half-brother Garyth J. Loyard and younger half-sister Alethea J. Loyard on Regis’ side.) Raegyn has a pretty good relationship with his loving family, buuut it wasn’t always like that, which is the fun part I’m getting to later. Woo!

Raegyn is a really interesting one and I had so much fun making his design and I can’t wait to dive into his story in detail. Let’s get started yaaa! My beloved Ray’s (almost) full backstory.

So we already know that Raegyn is the smartest and most popular of his generation. The star of the show, the center of attention, Lukedonia’s local celebrity… the number one guy. Loved by all, respected by all. Everyone wants to be his friend, maybe even competing with each other for his attention. People constantly shower him with admiration. It’s like he’s walking on the red carpet wherever he goes. People just can’t get enough of him. It’s always “how is Raegyn?”, “what is Raegyn doing today?”, and “I need Raegyn’s advice, where can I find him?”… etc. People are always saying his name, and frankly, he enjoys the attention he receives. Sometimes he thinks it’s funny how he’s not the Lord yet he arguably gets more enthusiasm from the general population than she does. Hah. Hilarious.

Raegyn’s just so lucky, isn’t he? He’s got the brains, a radiating confidence, an irresistible charm, a loving family, and a literal empire of friends… if life is a giant lottery then he had already won it all. Life can’t possibly get better than what it is now, can it? Well, for Raegyn, life is good indeed. Very good.

Everything he has ever wanted gets handed to him easily. If not, he just needs a minute to work it out in his head and say a little something to make the other person give in, and it works every single time even when his requests are obviously beyond reasonable. Basically, Raegyn knows how to use his thinking skills and his natural charm to his complete advantage. Thus life is easy for him.

But because everything comes so easily, life… is also boring. There was nothing to surprise him, to make him go “well that was fresh”. Now what? Life is predictable and repetitive, at least from his experience, because he is so capable of fine tuning things and people to be the way he wants. And the thing is Raegyn does like to be in control of every precise detail in his life, so he would rather have life be a bit boring than to give up on steering everything in his direction. Sometime in his early childhood, he had a single taste of being in control, and he has been hooked ever since. To lose that control would be a big no-no for him. Frankly, without it, he probably has little idea of how to actually live life as it is, which is letting things naturally unfold without his intervention. Yeah. He’d actually physically cringe if he had to stay idle.

This leads to my next point, which is Raegyn’s childhood. Oh boy. How do I even begin. Raegyn is the first child between Regis and Rael, but he’s not Rael first child. Rael is the soul fragment donor of Karias’ heir Kaelestis, who is Raegyn’s elder half-brother. This means Kaelestis is technically Rael’s first child, though the latter is merely a donor in both title and practice. Despite that, Rael was very much involved in Kaelestis’ early childhood as an adult figure, a mentor etc. Kaelestis adored his donor “other parent”, and Rael loved his sweet Blerster boy very much. Donor and son were close and made wonderful memories together, which led to Rael becoming very excited to have his own heir. Maybe even the exact reason why Raegyn was born not very long after Rael and Karias had Kaelestis. (Raegyn was born when Kaelestis was the equivalent of a 6-8 year old human) Rael was more than ecstatic to bond with his second son, his beloved heir, the light of his life. He loved his little boy with all his heart and he couldn’t wait to experience the joy of parenting. He was certain that it was going to be great.

Eeeexcept it didn’t go quite as Rael had expected. Uh oh. The fact that Raegyn didn’t automatically love Rael wasn’t even the worst part about it. Raegyn seemed to despise him. This hurt Rael very much, as he didn’t understand why his heir didn’t want anything to do with him. Raegyn resisted being communicated with telepathically, ignored words spoken at him, never responded to questions, looked away when being looked at, and squirmed with all his strength when any adult tried to hold him. At one point Rael gave up on trying to read Raegyn’s mind because he would find some… not so nice things Raegyn had to say about him, and he didn’t need to break his own heart any further. Rael didn’t know what he had done wrong, if anything. He had already gained experience as a parent from his time with Kaelestis; he learned how to be around kids, what to do and what not to do, and in general just how to handle them. He just couldn’t get his second son to like him. Something is wrong here. Kaelestis was fine with him, then why doesn’t Raegyn like him? And it wasn’t just Rael. Regis was also very puzzled by their son’s behavior, as Raegyn seemed to actively resist him as well. Regis tried to comfort his husband by telling him to not take it personally, because Raegyn… well, he disliked everyone equally. Rael was not convinced at all. Rip. At least Regis tried.

And so this went on for a while, until by complete chance a very tired Regis chuckled something along the lines of “You know what, child? Your behavior isn’t helpful in the slightest, and your father and I are having a hard time. Here, why don’t we make a deal so all of us get the most out of it while we’re still living in the same house?” Boom. That was it. The correct answer. To both his parents’ surprise, Raegyn actually responded. He turned around, stared at his fathers in the eyes, and said “Only if you have something good enough to offer. Just so you know, I won’t settle for less. Very well, Rael Kertia and Regis K. Landegre. Convince me.” Regis swore he heard Rael’s jaw drop to the floor, and he himself was speechless. So their son was capable of communicating with them after all, it’s just that he never did simply because he didn’t want to. The two of them came to the conclusion that their son didn’t like being treated like a child, and they were using the wrong approach the entire time. Regis and Rael thought they were doing the right thing, but they were quite mistaken, as their son needed to be treated as an adult, basically as their equal. None of that kiddie talk, mushy coddling, nonstop love smothering… nope. Interact with him like they would with any other adult? Yep, that got Raegyn talking and assured that they would get milder and even positive responses from him.

That’s when Regis and Rael realized that Raegyn was different, even if they can’t put their finger on it. It was a mix of surprise and curiosity. As impressive as it was, they couldn’t help but feel uncanny. Maybe they were even a bit reluctant to admit that they were uneasy, but Raegyn was their son after all, and they didn’t want to overthink it. I mean, this kid’s first (spoken) words were him trying to bargain with his parents. Maybe their son was just being funny and pranking them all along. They laughed it off, no big deal, all while still keeping an eye out for their unusual kid. From then on they’d modify their approach with their son and things changed for the better and Rael was finally able to bond with Raegyn, though not quite in the way he had expected. Anything is better than nothing, so Rael has no complaints. He might as well beg his son for attention if he really is that desperate.

What about from Raegyn’s perspective? Well, unfortunately, Raegyn wasn’t being funny nor was he pulling pranks on his parents. He was dead serious. He was no ordinary child, and he hated being treated as one. To Raegyn, his parents and the other adults treating him like a baby was a direct insult because he thought the adults were messing with him. That’s correct. Raegyn believed that the adults somehow conspired together and formed a sort of mutual agreement between them where they all treat him like he doesn’t know any better because they think he’s too dumb or something. It wasn’t until later, when Raegyn eventually realized that he himself was the outlier, the odd one out, not them. The adults handled him like they would with any normal noble child. Still, Raegyn disliked it, and it felt disturbing to him. In his eyes, it was like some sort of shallow game of pretend, ill humor that he can never bring himself to appreciate.

That’s why Raegyn purposely ignored the adults even when they demanded his attention, because why on earth would he respond to their silly games? That would just be positive reinforcement and they’d force that shit on him even more. But being the extremely smart kid he is, he is aware of his own gains and losses. He knew he didn’t want to pretend to be a normal kid, he didn’t want to copy their mannerisms just so he could fit in, because that just isn’t him. Blegh. Gross. Reducing himself to their level…nuh uh. But he also figured out that pretending to be one gets him what he wants. To be precise, when Raegyn is his usual self, the adults feel uncanny and have mixed reactions. On the contrary… when he pretends to be normal, they react very positively. Isn’t that weird. Turns out adults like cute kids that act like kids instead of kids that make them uncomfortable by acting way beyond their age.

So Raegyn adapts. Inquire about their day, be enthusiastic and beg to be allowed to tag along, maybe even cry some fake tears when they say no until they say yes. Smile at them and watch them sign boring paperwork all day. Fake interest in their tedious gardening tasks, patrol duty, anything the adults were up to. And when that’s done, ask for new toys and clothes. That shiny ruby brooch? Pout and say you like it very much and want to have it, and Clan Leader is the best dad in the world because he gets what Rayray wants. And with that, maybe a matching bow tie. And a matching silk shirt. And a matching fur coat. You get it. It didn’t take long for Raegyn to master the art of acting and now he’s got everyone wrapped around his little finger. That’s where the fake smiling and enthusiasm began, and he never stopped ever since. Regis and Rael were happy for their little boy, because he finally acted more like a normal child. But deep down they knew he is an outlier, as they had been dealing with his true self until now. They didn’t understand why Raegyn seemingly became normal overnight, but to question that would be useless. Well… at least Raegyn looked like he’s finally enjoying himself now, and that’s a good thing, right? Deep down, they knew something was up. Obviously there was a reason for Raegyn’s sudden behavioral change, but to investigate it would break Raegyn’s trust so ultimately they did nothing and hoped for the best. For Raegyn’s future, and their future together as a family.

Raegyn’s always constantly evolving depending on who he’s dealing with. By the time he was around the equivalent of a 10 year old human, his false persona is such an integral part of his life, he never goes outside without this metaphorical mask. Despite Raegyn’s success at adapting himself into society in the present day, his childhood was a difficult one, at least in the very beginning. It did get better as he got older, but fundamentally, he is still the same on the inside. Raegyn hated how things were structured and the expectations he was obligated to fulfill. Raegyn didn’t understand why he was automatically expected to give his parents his unconditional love, respect, and attention just because they were the cause of his birth and entire existence. That’s the reason? Wow. He never asked to be born, not that he minds existing or anything, but more so it was just weird to him how now he’s permanently stuck with two adults who are way too obsessed with him for their own good, and he won’t be able to get away from them for centuries. His parents got sad when he didn’t respond to them, especially Rael. What did they expect anyway? To Raegyn, things like respect and love had to be earned, and no one automatically deserves it just because of “family” or whatever shallow term they use. And this applies to his own parents as well. If Regis and Rael wanted him to obey and love them, then they have to earn it, and prove themselves worthy. To Raegyn, even if they are his parents, they’re just like any other person out there. They were strangers he couldn’t separate himself from. The point is Raegyn isn’t purposely trying to distance himself from his parents specifically; that’s just how his brain works.

The good news is Raegyn eventually does develop genuine love for his family, which happens during his childhood. It’s true that Raegyn had his doubts about unconditional love and whether that even existed or not, but being the smart person he is, he did pick up on his parents’ love for him. They genuinely care about him, and he… appreciates that. So they were being serious this whole time. Raegyn, who is always right, was wrong, for the first time in his life. Raegyn was finally defeated, in a good sense. It feels good to be loved. But as much as Raegyn was impressed, he was also bothered by something. He was touched by Regis and Rael’s sincerity, and for that he is grateful, but something felt off. That’s when Raegyn realized he was feeling guilt for the very first time, for everything he had done to his parents. To this day, guilt remains the only emotion Raegyn can immediately and correctly identify, which is something I will bring up later. Every other emotion, even the positive ones, he has to think about it.

For the most part, Raegyn is neutral. Even when his little sister Arya was born, he didn’t feel anything. She was just another being he had to live with from now on, just because they share the same parents. Not only was he expected to tolerate her, he was supposed to take care of her. Ick. Luckily Raegyn does develop a genuine bond with Arya, even if it took a long time. They are close as siblings, and Regis and Rael? They were super relieved that Raegyn seemed to accept his little sister immediately, and even more relieved that Arya was a normal child with normal development. To be honest, Regis and Rael were nervous about having their second child aka Regis’ heir because they were afraid that Raegyn would react negatively. Surprise surprise, he didn’t. That is character development right there, from resisting his own parents to welcoming a new sibling with open arms. The truth is Raegyn simply made an effort to prevent his true apathetic self from seeping out because he didn’t want to ruin the moment for his parents. If he were to be honest, well… he couldn’t care less if Arya vanished into thin air on the spot. Raegyn only did it because he didn’t want that feeling called “guilt” to bother him for years to come, so he might as well be nice. Even if Raegyn’s goodwill didn’t stem from true consideration, it was still a massive improvement. He is still learning, but he is getting there… right? Only he knows.

To say that Raegyn doesn’t doubt his relationship with his family anymore, and that he trusts them unconditionally, would be a lie. His parents would die for him, and his sister adores him. He’s sure of that. But on second thought… do they really? This is how Raegyn falls into the perpetual cycle of questioning himself. That’s why he is so conflicted. He feels guilty because he is doubting those he should trust the most, and then he decides to give them his complete trust in order to get rid of that sense of guilt he got from doubting them in the first place, and finally ending it by rescinding that trust because he realizes he was foolish enough to trust anyone but himself. Rinse and repeat. Then again he overthinks it because he just can’t help it. This entire ordeal bothers him, and he would never admit it. In the long run, Raegyn overthinking things would go on to hurt his own ability to make meaningful relationships with people, and that is something I will bring up later.

Now onto the last bits of Raegyn’s childhood before I move to the time skip. I want to mention Raegyn’s relationship with his peers too. Ever since Raegyn’s birth, he has been silently watching and judging everything and everyone. He could be minding his own business, but his eyes were always looking at something. Even if he didn’t want to be a part of whatever the other kids were doing, he wanted to know what’s up, so he observes them from a distance. And he was always disappointed, of course. I mean, this is Raegyn, why wouldn’t he?

They weren’t bright enough to hold an interesting conversation with Raegyn. They got bored, whined, fidgeted, or fell asleep when he wanted to talk about a very long and obscure piece of ancient Lukedonian history that he recently taught himself. Or that time when all the kids just got up and left, when he promised them he was bringing “something super valuable” to their next “playdate”, and everyone expected a treasure map or something and instead Raegyn rolled out a five meter long checklist on how Lukedonian laws can be improved. Raegyn is, of course, very offended. This is his ideal vision of a playdate, after all, because playing means having fun. And this really is what Raegyn thinks is FUN. And his peers? Raegan’s giving up on them. They’re all under-qualified. Every single one of them. Too slow, too dim. Too hyper, too lazy. Too impulsive, too cowardly, etc. They weren’t worth his time, and to spend an extra minute with them was a waste of his energy. Thus Raegyn was a lonely child. He was surrounded by people, yet he didn’t like their company. He didn’t enjoy what they had to offer, yet he couldn’t fit in as himself either.

Raegyn wanted something else. Something more grand, more controversial; something that shakes the very foundation of noble society. History, philosophy, ethics, anything really. The deeper it is, the better. Sometimes even the more taboo, the better, as he likes a good challenge. He wants to hang out with someone who has the capacity to prove him wrong, and reaaaaally force him to get those brain cells working. A good, long debate is more thrilling than the best spar. He needed someone to share that joy of thinking with, someone who truly resonates with his passions. An intellectual soulmate basically. Just a reminder that Raegyn is still the human equivalent of an elementary school kid at this point. He already knew what he wanted in a friend, which is someone who can really match his wavelength, yet this person simply didn’t exist. Raegyn was frustrated. And the thing is Raegyn is an extrovert by nature so he does need a decent amount of socializing to stay healthy emotionally, except there’s no one at his caliber to keep him in company where he genuinely feels fulfilled. This is where things get complicated, and Raegyn is conflicted. He needed that company, but he couldn’t find the right people despite his best efforts. Raegyn was lonely, and his fathers noticed how their son would just slouch and sigh all day.

This would lead to Regis and Rael insisting on Raegyn hanging out with the other kids, because there must be something they can bond over, right…? What they weren’t aware of was how Raegyn was simply at the top, and his loneliness couldn’t be solved with a simple solution, if at all. What about Raegyn? Well, he knew that obeying his parents would cause him less trouble than resisting them, so he obliged. If it makes his fathers happy to see him happy then… he’s willing to pretend to get along with the others for as long as his sanity remains.

So what happened was Raegyn put aside his desire to talk about great subjects and deep matters, and simply went with the flow. He pretended to enjoy their tea parties, tree climbing, fishing, wrestling, etc. It was all so boring and tedious. And then it hit him. Hey… they didn’t whine and run away this time. They reacted quite positively when he pretended to be interested in their shallow activities. They even invited him back. Now that was easy, wasn’t it? Raegyn remembered the tactics he used on his parents and the adults. If he could manipulate them, maybe he could do it to his peers. He did crave that social interaction, and even if what was available to him wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy him, it was still better than nothing.

And even if he honestly wasn’t interested in his peers and what they were doing, the principle of making and having friends wasn’t bad at all. Raegyn already knew that if he made an effort to someone, they would reciprocate it. Take that, and times one thousand, maybe even more. If he shall pretend to be friendly to one person, might as well do it to everyone, because the amount of effort he has to make is the same anyway. And you never know when having a bunch of friends is useful. Who knows. He could get some of them to run errands for him. Give him their things. Tell him useful secrets and information that they shouldn’t be spilling. Maybe one of them will even be willing to die for him. Neat. And this is when Raegyn decided to go all out, and there he established his signature false persona of a friendly, enthusiastic, altruistic, diplomatic, insightful and responsible Kertia heir. He calculated his potential gains, and his conclusion was that the pros outnumbered the cons and this was the way to go. Not only could he impress his parents, but he could also get himself an empire of friends that might become useful to him. Surely this is a better alternative to wandering around aimlessly trying to find his own match. Now he could aim to climb to the top AND find his own match at the same time, sweet! Kiddie Raegyn is tapping into his ambitious side, how wonderful.

(FYI Izar does come up later on but that dude is only interested in math and astronomy, which isn’t enough for Raegyn. And there is an age gap between the two of them: Raegyn is roughly 200-400 years older than the traitor clan kids group so Raegyn was already an adult by the time Izar came into existence. And I say “roughly” because nothing with the ages are set in stone and I’d like it to be flexible so that’s just approximations for context. Anyways)

Yayyyy. Fast forward to Raegyn in the present day as a young adult.

Raegyn’s reputation is perfect. He is perfect. His ambitious childhood goal was to make everyone love him, aaaaand he 100% succeeded. People knew his name, and you could bet that at any given moment, someone in Lukedonia is talking about him, praising him for everything he has done. He’s the big shot. No one would ever guess that behind the glorious, radiating light of his persona hides a cold and apathetic true self. He worked hard to get to where he is today, and he isn’t going to admit to everyone he’s been lying this whole time because that would be throwing his merits away. He has his empire of friends, why would he give up on that? They love him for his false persona, then so be it. He’ll keep it up until he dies.

Part of him legitimately believes that his gains are worth it, and part of him feels like he has gone too far to go back. As much as Raegyn would hate to admit it, he isn’t quite sure who he would be without his false persona. As in, he is afraid to know what will become of him, what will remain of him if he is left alone with his true self. Which is funny because for a person whose hobby is thinking, he doesn’t want to think about that. In a way he is running way from himself, and he knows he feels slightly uncomfortable because fundamentally, that isn’t what he wants. But all these years he couldn’t find his match, nor did Lukedonia have anything else to offer to satisfy someone of his intellectual level. He was losing his patience, but there was nothing he could do. Raegyn never forgot his true self, and he never abandoned it either; he is just suppressing it… to the best of his ability. His vision of a fulfilling life wasn’t realistic, at least from his perspective, so he turned to what he is doing now. He has many, many friends, but no one whom he truly bonds with. He owns many things and people also keep giving him things, yet he has no use for them and isn’t interested in them either. Raegyn started to feel restless. Despite that, he made sure that side of him never showed, to not worry his family, and because he is also too prideful to admit that he’s sick of it too.

That’s when Raegyn discovers a new method of entertainment. He is a nice guy, right? Everyone loves him, that’s a fact. They didn’t know that he had been silently judging them, being nice on the surface and saying mean things about them in his head at the same time. Raegyn needed a new rush of fun. Something fresh to make him feel excited again.

And then… yeah. Raegyn sets his next goal as “seeing how far he can discreetly push people’s buttons without getting into real trouble”. Only a few individuals have his complete respect therefore excluded from his list of “people I can smartass” list… and for the rest of them? They’re all there for his amusement. Even Lord Raskreia.

Oh yeah, her. Remember how I mentioned that Raegyn only believes in authority that is earned? Well, he’s one of the nobles who believe that Raskreia is incompetent. In his eyes she is not qualified to sit on the throne. Too dependent on her feelings, too stubborn, too impulsive… he could go on forever. If it weren’t for the Previous Lord, she wouldn’t even be sitting there on the throne. Raegyn thinks he’s a better candidate for the position of Lord than her. Maybe even the best candidate. Too bad Raegyn isn’t interested in becoming Lord, even if he is curious about the idea of what it is like for him to become Lord. Real life Lord? No thank you. Too many responsibilities, bleh. He wanted to have fun without responsibility, and being Lord would mean having all sources of his entertainment cut off. And his own clan, the Kertia, and Grandia, are pretty cool so… you’re welcome. Meanwhile he can just judge her from the side and keep testing her discreetly to see how smart she is. Which is even funnier because Raegyn should fear Raskreia, as she is his Lord. But just as much as he believes authority should be earned, the fear that comes with authority should also be earned. And Raskreia doesn’t even qualify for that from Raegyn’s perspective. She doesn’t deserve his loyalty. (His cousin Reiner does, which I will explain in a future post where I highlight the cousins’ relationship with one another)

Anyways. Despite Raegyn’s false friendliness and hidden apathy, he does encounter people who genuinely want to connect with him in the midst of him fooling around with his celebrity persona. He is aware that most people love him for the show he puts on, and he’s fine with that. But every now and then there would be someone who wants to know more about him. Someone who doesn’t just want to know Raegyn the great and glorious, but also the mundane Raegyn. The everyday Raegyn. The kind of music he enjoys, what flowers he finds pretty, even the kind of weather he finds the most soothing. The smaller details of his life that people usually don’t associate with him, because he’s known for his great accomplishments. And Raegyn is capable of detecting genuine effort and… this is exactly what makes him uncomfortable. He is confused, surprised, and doesn’t know what to do.

This is where my previous point comes in. Remember when I said Raegyn is struggling in a perpetual cycle of guilt and doubt? Well, this is because Raegyn believes that all relationships are fundamentally transactional. Let it be parent and child, friends, lovers, ruler and subject. People only stuck together for some sort of gain, for their own benefit. It took him a long time to accept his own parents and develop what he would call love for them, and even then, he’d occasionally find himself questioning their relationship. It’s even harder for outsiders, whom he basically categorizes as anyone who is not direct family. The thing is Raegyn is incapable of forming meaningful relationships with anyone. He has a massive following, but no one good friend to share his life with. Not because they didn’t make an effort, but because he kept pushing them away. Raegyn was the one who drove them away when they got too close, even if that meaningful connection was what he yearned for. You can say that Raegyn is projecting himself onto others. Raegyn is almost entirely unable to treat someone genuinely, as he is used to a life full of manipulation and lies where he is the one doing all the manipulating. This is the problem because he’s been doing this for so long, he doesn’t know how to treat someone genuinely. In fact, he can’t really recall when was the last time he treated someone with honesty. By his logic and projection, he believes that those who are trying to take a further step to connect to him are trying to manipulate him, and they’re being dishonest. Do you see where I am getting at. He mistakes all of that for deception from the other side. Karma, reaping what you sow… whatever it is, is coming to kick him in the ass. Now he’s stuck in the loop of pushing people away and complaining about why he just can’t find people to bond with.

If Raegyn could just set aside his need for finding his so-called intellectual rival, he could’ve found a best friend already. Someone who doesn’t necessarily share his capabilities, but truly cares for him. His unrealistic standards and need to maintain his pride is hindering him, yet he can’t quite let it go. Raegyn the glorious is truly pathetic. What a shitshow.

Good news is, eventually he does find a best friend! Like an actual best friend. No bullshitting, no lies. Someone whom he is comfortable enough with to completely drop his act and just be himself, and that person is… Jia! Wait, isn’t she the dumb one? Aren’t they the complete opposites? Yep! They’re healthy best friends, which is nothing less than a miracle. They bring out the best in each other. I’ll be talking about that in a future post!

More on his general personality. Raegyn is a bit snarky and arrogant at times, but people can’t ever get mad at him. He always gets away with being a lil’ shit, because… well, he’s never wrong. No matter how much you want to slap him in the face for something he said, even if you are dead sure that he definitely had no good intentions, when you think about it again… hey, he’s actually right. It makes sense, even if it hurts to hear. He’s totally right. Damn, how did you even get mad at him in the first place? That was dumb, wasn’t it. Now you should slap yourself in the face. You are wrong, because he is right. This is Raegyn, after all. He can present an insult as a compliment. He can turn something totally unfriendly and malicious into a piece of enlightenment, and all of a sudden you actually owe him because he gave you precious insight.

Now you’re curious and decide to stick around to see what other interesting things he has yet to show you. You discover that he’s very friendly and outgoing, and he’s actually considerate and always has solutions to your problems, and makes an effort to make your day. He’s witty, humorous, and a joy to be around, even if he throws a dark joke every now and then, but again you can’t help but let it slide. You start to really appreciate him and don’t even realize this is exactly what he wants to trick you into thinking. One more follower to add to his already super massive following; another shiny chess piece that he has successfully collected for his observation platform of… whatever they truly are to him. He makes it so that you feel like he’s there to entertain you and keep you company, but in reality, it’s the opposite. You’re there to entertain him, for as long as his shallow interest in you remains, which likely won’t last for much longer either. And when he gets bored and very discreetly kicks you out of his life, you’ll feel like it was your fault and now you’re jealous of his other friends and yearn to hang out with him again, even if it means doing whatever it takes to get him back. Raegyn is 100% aware of this, and he definitely enjoys it. He didn’t ask for an encore, yet it came by its own accord. Nice, even more drama for him sip on to ward off some of that boredom before he finds a new source of short-term entertainment.

(BTW just for clarification Raegyn never does anything illegal or anything that can potentially get him in trouble if he gets caught. He’s probably smart enough to get away with it anyway if he really wanted to commit crime for fun but then he doesn’t need to do that. His smartassing, bullshitting, manipulation etc is just on a personal level and never goes beyond that. Even if he’s borderline desperate for entertainment, he won’t do anything that has actual consequences. That’s why he’s not dangerous, he’s just petty and at most a pain in the ass. Can’t throw him in jail or anything, even grounding him would be excessive. He eventually does join Gloria and her search party for Reiner for a certain reason and that’s for another post too)

Just don’t delve any deeper or try to look behind Raegyn’s mask, because you will find something you don’t want to see, and something he doesn’t want to see, and it’s going to be a hot mess.

When he’s not being serious, he is pretty funny. If you can refrain from questioning his personality, he’s actually quite the humor depository. It manifests in the way that when he tries to be funny, it’s like he’s insulting you and when he is actually insulting you, you think he’s just being funny. If you’re in for a short-term, superficial friendship or just need to waste some time, he’s the perfect person to hang out with. He’s not going to be serious anyway, so if you’re interested, meet up and chat away. Just don’t actually develop an attachment to him and you’re good, because it’s no good for either of you. If it’s just for fun and nothing serious, totally go for it. He’ll keep you entertained and (hopefully) you’ll keep him entertained, and if you can handle some occasional arrogance and cheekiness from him, you’ll have a blast, and he’ll make you laugh. Win-win!

(I wanted to get to the details of Raegyn’s crush on Umbra + who he actually eventually settles down with in this post but it was already too long so I’ll do it separately in another post in the future)

And that’s it! Maybe I’ll do another one of these long character posts in a few months. Idk. When I feel like it. Feel free to let me know if there is any particular one you want to see next (did Kaekae last time, Raegyn this time, so 13 out of 15 left) but I will get to all of them eventually. Maybe will take years to complete but I want to get it done lol.

Again, thank you for reading, and stay tuned for future posts!

#noblesse #manhwa #myart #oc #original character #raegyn kertia #millennium au

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