#polylads

[thelostdarling]

I have another drabble….

Hear me out... (also TW, so read under the cut)

Princess [Reader], forced to get married to an elderly man, runs away from her toxic family and gets lost in the woods near a countryside. That's when Rafayel, your kingdom's famous painter, rescues you. He was just going in for a horseback ride and that's when he spotted you, wandering in the woods.

So, he carries you, takes you to a cottage big but not bigger than your palace, it's a mansion. And so you meet his poly (Zayne, Caleb, Xavier, Sylus, and MC), and you're like...flustered that the famous Rafayel, whose paintings have been worldwide known as splendid, is in a relationship with not one, but 5 people, and all of them look so handsomely appealing.

Zayne's a famous physician.

Sylus and Xavier are well-known spies.

Caleb is your father's most trustworthy and loyal warrior (but you were never allowed to see guys, you were locked up in the palace, like rapunzel).

And MC? Well, she owns a bakery in your kingdom.

Anyways, weeks go by and you warm up with them, having your first time sex with Rafayel in his bedroom.

A day later, they go to work, you're alone but bored so you decide to take a bath on a lake in the forest where Raf rescued you.

Oh no...the guards...they've captured you...

You're back in the palace. The king does a virginity test on you...

But a spurge in your body erupts and you transform into an owl. You fly all they way back to the mansion and MC is there, early. You land on her feet, return to being a human, tell her everything and she embraces you. Few moments later, she eats you out on her bedroom.

Months go by, and you're safe. You now find yourself in a field of flowers (pink daisies) with zayne, and also moments later, he's stuffing you with his cum.

Then days later, Sylus + you = chest pressed on the counter and naked while he is taking you from behind.

Dw, that's consensual sex.

(Based upon a dream I had a few months ago)

[confusedwritersounds]

Everyone loves doctor Zayne

Summary: Everyone shows their love for Zayne in their own way, some more disruptively than others. All they want is to take care of their favorite doctor. They're just incredibly bad at it, in the end Zayne is the one who ends up worrying over them. Poor doctor Zayne is just doing his best to keep everyone healthy and alive, a task worthy of Sisyphus if ever there was one Tags: Hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, suggestive material Pairing: Lyra(mc)/Zayne/Caleb/Sylus/Rafayel/Xavier (what would the fucking ship name be for this??? can we please make a ship name for this if there isn't one already?) Word Count: 12,811 Read on ao3

Lyra and Zayne

Sleep was a mistress that Zayne had never been on good terms with, even in his youth. When the cruel embrace of sleep caught up to him it was with nightmares plagued with black ice bursting from his skin, tearing open the sinews of his muscles, and shattering across his body like jagged glass. The same nightmare over and over of her limp corpse, her body crusted with the black ice the same way his hands were soaked in her blood, deep heady crimson like her hair that was speckled with snowflakes, as if she was some sleeping princess instead of a mangled corpse of his own creation.

She smelled of jasmines even in those dreams, like it was a cruel joke that she would smell of jasmines. Whatever higher power existed truly must enjoy his suffering, he had promised the jasmines would lead her back to him no matter what.

And they did.

Every nightmare.

A trail of jasmines followed her every step, no matter how cold the world around her got or how the darkness consumed the air until there was nothing left to guide her but the sound of him. She chased after him, every time... in every time. She chased even when her body ached and he could hear her stifled cries of pain with every step. Even when the jasmines were swallowed by black ice and her body was barely more than a frozen statue that could crumble with faintest tremble of the wind, even she collapsed his arms and those bright eyes like the sun flickered... even as he watched the light in her eyes slowly drain away from her...

There would be jasmines, frozen and wilted.

He sat up quickly, shaking away the nightmares, ignoring the pangs of pain as the frost bit at his concealed arms.

There would be no nightmare tonight, no other version of him to devour his jasmine. No ice would touch her skin, never to crack the warmth of the spring he has chosen to selfishly keep by his side despite his nature... because there is no denying that this is his true nature.

No amount of denial has changed the nightmares; they tormented him every time he dared to shut his eyes. Haunting him from the very moment he chose to become her friend. Every night since he gained that little joy in his life... whenever she was near the nightmares would return. As if it was punishment from whatever higher power existed, not allowing him even this little comfort in the world.

It's an instinct to reach out to her in the darkness, to feel her warm skin and know that she is alive. But when he looked at the body lying in his bed, he doesn't see his Lyra, not as she is now. Half waking half dreaming mind has conjured up the sight of her frostbitten corpse once again. A sight he once knew more intimately than her waking self, a cruel phantom image that chased after him the same way she chased him in his nightmares. With it came the pain, the dull thrum of ice coursing through his veins, a voice in his mind telling him to correct this error. It always phrased it like that, to ease his guilt maybe. A correction to a minor clerical error, to set things on the right path, to make sure things are as they should be.

No matter how it was phrased he knew what it meant.

To kill her.

He knew the voice as well as he knew her, as well as he knew himself though that wasn't an accomplishment given how little he understood of himself. This voice though, he did know this voice, that whispered to him long before he knew Lyra's name, when she was simply the little girl who lived next door...

The little girl who had been horrifically injured by his hands, fear in her eyes but not anger. Not even when he cradled her in his arms and begged for anyone to come help because he didn't understand what happened. Only that Lyra wasn't moving, only that her heart wasn't beating and she looked so scared staring at him with big yellow eyes filled with tears that froze on her icy skin. That in those moments he wouldn't stop saying how sorry he was and how she promised she wasn't mad at him.

It didn't matter that she came back through some miracle or science.

She had been gone and every night since then, since he almost succeeded, the nightmares became more intense. The voice pleading to him, he was so close. Visions of that other world filled with nothing but monsters and that version of himself that has only known suffering.

It was easier to not sleep.

He had enough work to keep him occupied, finalizing patient reports, research, and hospital paperwork. Should he somehow run out there was always reviewing lecture he's given at universities, volunteering to be a guest speaker would certainly take away more time in his night. If he offered to speak for his old school in Skyhaven he'd be able to visit Caleb, a few nights away from Lyra so he could fitfully rest without the worry that he'd hurt her. The nightmares would still torment him but they would not control him, not when he is miles away from her. Until then anything he could think to distract him from the dull weight of exhaustion that settled uncomfortably over him. A shroud that only promised a sleep devoid of any real recovery or comfort, and maybe only held death.

It's a blessing the others aren't here; their erratic sleep schedules would lead to him getting caught much quicker than he would like. A demand that he should rest to late night conversations, neither option was palatable. Not tonight, not when he can feel phantom pains of frost spreading on his skin.

It has to be phantom pains.

It isn't real.

He won't let it be real.

Even if it meant leaving her behind, leaving them all behind and the little home that they have made for themselves. A little separation wouldn't kill him.

And yet instead of going to his home office to work he stayed in the bedroom, sitting on the floor beside their bed so he can keep an eye on her sleeping form. Lyra is the only one in his home tonight and for that he is grateful. When she manages to get to sleep it is a lead blanket that was near impossible to wake her from. A heavy death like sleep, her breath so shallow it was almost imperceptible... it didn't help with the nightmares. It certainly didn't help him stay focused on work, every so often getting up to make sure she was still breathing

Still alive despite the horrors his mind continued to conjure up.

And maybe the lack of sleep is truly catching up to him because it took far longer than it should have for him to realize that the yellow eyes staring back at him weren't part of his nightmare.

"Lyra."

"Zayne." His name is soft on her drool wet lips, a dull shine at the corner of her mouth. He would need to change the pillow cover tomorrow if there was a puddle of drool like he suspected, they were due for a wash anyways.

"You're awake."

"As are you." Her words are still slurred from sleep, despite how wide her eyes had been open she must have woken up not too long ago. Maybe the lights underneath the nightstand hadn't been hidden enough, he should've sat in the dark.

"I'm working."

"It's dark." She pointed out, glancing around the room before zeroing in on the dim light tucked neatly underneath the nightstand. It had seemed like a good idea, just enough light to work by without any reaching her eyes and disturbing her sleep, she thought otherwise. "That doesn't count."

"I'll be alright."

"Your eyes say otherwise doc-tor." She draws the word out the word mockingly, a slow smile spreading on her face as she leaned forward. Untangling her hands from the sheets and her body, she placed them on his face— warm. Her hands are so warm, he can't help but lean into her touch. "You're exhausted."

"I'm not exhausted."

"My love, flower of my heart, and piece of my undying soul," she began softly, her thumb stroking his cheek as she spoke. Faintly he can hear the sounds of fabric rustling as she moved closer to him until finally her forehead is pressed against his. "Lay down with me. Now."

It's not a question, he recognized the tone. She used it all the time on him and Caleb when they were children. No matter how much honey sweetness she poured into her voice he would always be able to recognize the demand that left little room for argument. It seemed like no matter how old they got she would always be his favorite tyrant.

A tyrant covered in blood brought down by his hands, an icy guillotine to slice clean through her warm flesh. Because she never listened to him, too stubborn to run away from him even when it for her safety.

He tried to pull away, a paltry excuse already on his tongue, but her grip is steadfast. She is much stronger than she had been when they were children, she wouldn't let him leave this time, he knows it long before she says it. A better lie would be needed, an excuse, a distraction, anything to get him out of this room so he can't hurt her. Another night spent in one of the hospital's sleep pods or his office would be enough, just one more night so he can secure a place somewhere far away from her until one of the others returns home to keep him in check.

"I don't know what you're thinking but you're not allowed to leave, you are never allowed to leave me again," she ordered stubbornly and despite how pouty she played it off he can hear how tight her voice had become. A strained sorrow that they never spoke about, leaving the hospital behind, leaving her behind in the cemetery... or maybe this sorrow stretched back further. To when Caleb had died and he could not meet her eyes, when he pulled away every time she reached out to him, when he left her crying in the hall outside his office for hours. Maybe it was from when they were little and he could hear her screaming his name, as he begged his parents to drive faster because he couldn't bear to see her after what he had done. "I don't care how the nightmare ends. You can't leave me."

"I'm not going to bed." It's a childish last-ditch effort to maintain some space between them. He isn't sure he can manage to stay awake if she's in his arms, she's too... familiar. Having a warm body in his arms has become the best way for him to fall asleep and Lyra has always felt like safety; the spring after a wretched winter that would sooner see him dead than allow him respite. A winter that would overtake him, steal away his dreams and replace them with nightmares that would become his reality. "I'll keep you company until you fall asleep, I have work."

"Fine!"

For a brief moment he's flooded with relief, that maybe Lyra's stubborn streak will take pause given how late at night it was and how long her shift had been. They were both exhausted, the lives of a doctor and hunter are filled with seemingly endless workloads that grow more taxing as the days go on. Wanderer attacks are on the rise, alterum appearances, and an increase in patients with protocore syndrome. It's something they're both painfully aware of, so it would stand to reason that she let this slide for just one night. He would anticipate a conversation in the morning, but her rest is more important right now, people need her.

More than he does.

She thought otherwise.

In a shuffle of blankets and vehement curses under her breath he found himself quickly engulfed in a mess of quilts and pillows. She wasted no time in tossing several plushies directly at his face while she clambered off the bed. Not bothering with politeness or dignity as she shoved him away from the bed to make room for her. Arranging the pillows and plushies around them comfortably, her hand on his chest as she tried to push him into the nest of plushies and pillows.

"Lyra."

"Yes, my stubborn and foolish husband?" She asked, her words sweet but the glare on her face as she pushed him firmly to the ground was warning enough. Glare unwavering even when she placed her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Something the matter?"

"What are you doing?"

"We aren't going to bed apparently," she replied, leaning slightly to grab the quilt she had tossed onto the floor. Once she was sure it was securely wrapped around both of them, settling deeper against him. "We're going to sleep on the floor."

"This isn't healthy for your spine," he told her, wrapping his arm around her waist and drawing her closer without a second thought. "You'll likely wake up in pain."

"That's why we have pillows," she said simply, her words breaking with a yawn as she dismissively waved her hands towards the pillow she had tossed onto the ground. "I'm going to stay awake until you fall asleep.”

"Lyra."

"We already have the aromatherapy set up from when you said we were going to bed earlier," she reminded him, her tone clipped and truly leaving no room for him to argue. "And I'll count snowmen for you."

"Snowmen?"

"Would you rather carrots?"

"Snowmen will do just fine."

"Thought as much," she mumbled, her hands squeezing the fabric of his shirt in a death grip. "I'll keep counting until Zayne has a good sleep."

"And what about Lyra?"

"When Zayne gets a good sleep, Lyra does too."

She wasn't going to let him go, she would sooner suffocate the both of them beneath a mountain of blankets than let him go. And as the numbers began to flit into the night air he can't help but cling to her just a little tighter.

Her body is warm, there is no ice eating away at her flesh like a disease. Her voice doesn't crack though it does waver with sleep, broken by a yawn and not a scream of pain or sorrow.

And she smelled like jasmines.

Always jasmines.

Caleb and Zayne

There's a special fear that lingered in the back of Zayne's mind constantly, it lived right beside the fear that he would wake up one day with blood on his hands. Nested and clung onto its twin fear that he would be the one to kill Lyra, that he would wake with her frozen corpse cradled in his arms. The twin fear being the death of any of them truly, they all live dangerous lives; hunters, revenge killing, underground dealings, and so on. Or maybe it was just Caleb, at the very least Lyra and Caleb rested at the forefront of his mind when it came to matters of death.

Ever since they were children it has been Zayne's responsibility as the oldest to take care of them. It's a job he has failed miserably at thus far.

So on days when the sky is clear enough for him to see through the deepspace tunnel he can only think of Caleb. How far had he gone this time, how far was the fleet pushing him? Did everything go as planned or had someone tried to sabotage Caleb once again? What about the toring chip that he still couldn't figure out how to safely remove... was it hurting Caleb? When he's far away on mission there's no way for Zayne to monitor and care for him... there was no one up there keeping Caleb from doing something reckless or impulsive, only the fragile promise that Caleb made to always come back.

Caleb has already broken that promise once before... had disappeared from his and Lyra's lives for a year. More than just dead but completely gone, he remembered asking the coroner to see the body so they could at least say goodbye properly. Remembered holding Lyra as close to him as he physically could when they were told Caleb had been so horribly mangled there was no body to bury. Neither of them spoke to each other, not on the drive to her apartment and not at the funeral. He couldn't bear to look her in the eyes for a long time after... it was almost like looking at a corpse. When Caleb "died" something in her had died too, looking into her eyes only proved that much.

There was no erasing the suffering even after all that happened. It didn't matter that the true reason Caleb had vanished was because he had been spirited away by the fleet, taken and hidden and hurt. What mattered was for that year Caleb was gone, dead in every way that mattered. The fact that Caleb had intended to remain dead to them was only a stake driven further into his heart. Even now with Caleb back it only made him anticipate the next disaster, the next lethal injury, the next funeral. Every morning, he wondered if the day finally came for him to bury Caleb yet again, Lyra would join him in the ground because losing Caleb again would kill her.

Death loomed over everyone Zayne loves.

It was a simple fact of his life that he couldn't deny, not when the nightmares came or when someone wouldn't answer their phone. Disappearing off the face of the earth, quite literally, without so much as warning. Only returning after there's something horrible detailed all over the news on every channel. It's not something he liked to think about, but he can't help it. Caleb has been gone on a mission for the better half of a month, gone without a warning once again. It left him only one choice, combing the news for any update on the Farspace fleet.

His worried state didn't go unnoticed by colleagues, they were quick to deny him any more hours of work when they saw the state of him. His shift had long since passed him by and staying any later was expressly forbidden by both friends and superiors. A gentle reminder on their end that he was no use to anyone when he was exhausted, a mild threat to call his girlfriend should he refuse to at least sleep a little.

He declined the offer to go home, opting instead to return to his office to check his desktop for updates on the fleet. He followed anything tagged with the Farspace Fleet, the Hunters Association, Onychinus, and Rafayel. It made keeping an eye on all of them while he was at work just a little bit easier, everything they were associated with professionally tracked and followed on the internet. He would spend the night in his office tonight; the drive home was too long to go without checking for a potential update. Caleb should be returning to Skyhaven any day now and since the man refused to call or text them when he got back the news would be the first place any of them checked.

That had been the plan, spend the night in his office and hope for an update so that he could return home with news of Caleb. A peace offering for not being with everyone yet another night and a relief to them as well. To Lyra especially... no matter how much time passed none of the others would ever understand how hellish that year without Caleb had been... how much that loss affected them still. He hoped they would never have to experience it, not with Caleb — not with any of them.

These thoughts consumed him so entirely he didn't even notice his office door was slightly ajar despite the fact that he had shut it, that there were dim lights pouring from under the door even though he turned them all off when he left.

If he had maybe he wouldn't have panicked so much.

Maybe not.

The sight that awaited him wasn't something he would ever be okay with.

Caleb leaned on his desk, breath labored and heaving, bloody and burned. Scorch marks and blooming bruises on too pale skin, a singed fleet unform ripped to shreds. A body littered with varying lacerations that his eyes catch too quickly, mind supplying their names before he can stop it (avulsion, blast— shrapnel is lodged too close to Caleb's mechanical arm). A cocky grin still plastered on his face despite the exhausted pain so clearly written all over his body.

"I could use...use... some help Zaynie," Caleb called to him, panting breaths disrupting his speech. Voice equal parts pained and cocky, it only pissed Zayne off. "I can't make dinner... with a busted arm... "

"Dinner?" he spat, the word filled with vitriol as it fell unceremoniously out of his mouth. Dinner? Caleb arrived beaten and injured, the worst Zayne has seen him in ages and all that Caleb can bothered be concerned about was cooking dinner? A sick feeling twisted in his stomach, mouth dry and cottony as he fought for the right words to say.

In the end he said nothing.

He is a doctor first.

Being terrified, angry, and hurt come after that.

There are no thoughts in Zayne's mind as he gathered up everything he would need to patch up Caleb the best he can in his office. Thinking would make him irritated, or hurt, or afraid and he can't afford to be those things right now. Not when Caleb is in pain resting on his desk after another impromptu mission, more dangerous bullshit—

Focus on the medicine.

Focus on the larger injuries first then branch out to the less concerning ones. The burns and the scrapes that still needed tending, just not as much as the wound on his chest too close to the metal arm. Focus on the fact that Caleb's metal arm was the only part of him uninjured, even the synthetic skin was perfectly in place. For a moment his mind wandered, first to gratefulness because he isn't like Sylus, he wouldn't know where to begin to fix Caleb's arm. Then to suspicious because it was impossible for Caleb to be this injured but for there to not be damage.

The fleet then.

They repaired any damage that had been sustained to Caleb's arm, keeping their secret golden boy in pristine condition. It was the least they could do after stealing Caleb away from him. The least they could do was to take care of him and yet they seemed entirely incapable of caring for him entirely. Just their favorites bits and pieces,

"Careful with me Zaynie," Caleb complained, a pained whine tinging his voice as he leaned against him. "I don't want to die too soon."

"If that was true you wouldn't be here like this, you'd be safe at home with us. With me and Lyra and the others. For what Caleb, what is your goal? What do you hope to achieve by killing yourself once again," he snapped, the words pouring out in a torrent of anger, repressed feelings bubbled up. Caleb's too cold skin and warm blood only added fuel to the fire. And he knows that he is being cruel, that his words are cutting too deep and that it hurts. And... and he knows that he has never wanted to hurt Caleb. All he has ever wanted was to take care of them, to take care of Lyra and Caleb. "I apologize, Caleb. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine... don't worry..." Caleb grinned that stupid grin, the one that was meant to reassure him that things were fine. But they were anything but. "...Just wanted to see you... the others too. But you first. Didn't want anyone else patching me up. Only you."

It's why his body is battered, why he's bruised and beaten, but there isn't a single trace of suffering on that arm. The warm sterile skin, a physical reminder of all that has changed despite appearing the same on the surface. That Caleb has suffered a great deal for Lyra... maybe for him too.

Caleb is strong, he can fight, and endure.

He doesn't want that for Caleb.

He wanted warm meals, soft sheets, kind hands, and loving words for Caleb who has only ever been strong. A long life filled with nothing but good things, sweet things that made him feel safe.

"I'm sorry if I scared you."

"You could never scare me," Zayne promised softly, halting in his treatment to hold Caleb's face in his hands. The stubble is rough against the palm of his hands and the heavy dark circles under those beautiful eyes speak of so much exhaustion... so much suffering. "You may always come find me when you're hurt. I'll set aside my anger at the situations you find yourself in because I am not mad at you. I love you too much. That's all."

"That's all?" Caleb echoed and his face softened, entire body relaxing into Zayne. "That's everything."

The words are so soft that if Zayne had not been hanging onto every sound that Caleb made he would have missed it. He doesn't comment on it, teasing Caleb could be saved for later when they are home. Surrounded by warm people and warm blankets and warm food.

"Can I still cook you dinner?" Caleb asked after a moment. "Please?"

"Breakfast, we'll have street food tonight."

Sylus and Zayne

Zayne didn't end up going to Skyhaven for obvious reasons. Instead, he opted to remain in his home, to be nearby that's all. In case Caleb managed to reinjure himself, Zayne wanted to be on standby. He was glad to help truly, he would rather be the only person tending to Caleb and Lyra. A possessive need to keep the two that had adored him in their youth all to himself, even if they are anything but all his anymore. They belong to other people, are enamored with not just each other or him but three others...

That felt wrong to think.

He did his best not to divide any of them into categories, they all cared deeply for Lyra and for each other. They have shared everything in their time together and he's more than grown fond of all of them. But he would be a liar if he denied that this wasn’t easier with Lyra and Caleb. Taking care of each other was something they had always done, even as children they knew the only life they wanted was one that had all of them in it. Loving them, taking care of them, has always been his purpose and that has only become an even greater necessity as they got older. They only grew to rely on him more and more as the years progressed, in different ways than when they were younger but still needed him all the same.

Needed him in a way that Xavier, Rafayel, and Sylus didn't.

Maybe it's the sleep deprivation talking, he knows they care for him. They wouldn't do half the things they do now if they did not care for him in some capacity. The whispers of a paranoid mind only seek to spread ruin and destruction through his life, having already robbed him of sleep it sought to rob him of his companions. Pure isolation would make for any easy target. So, it whispers that they all love Lyra more than they can bear, loving her woven into the fibers of their souls and sinews of their body. But what reason do they have for keeping him around?

Paranoid fear is loud.

It bothered him more than he wanted to admit, the notion flitting back into his head whenever he had a moments respite from work. There are so many other things that should be his concern like the rising amounts of patients with protocore syndrome, or the appearance of alterum that made something deep within him feel wrong. The same way nightmares of black ice and memories of past friends torment him...

Better to keep busy.

The others would understand if he worked overtime more than usual, they wouldn't question why he kept himself busy more often than not these days. The rising number of alterum and treatments for protocore syndrome becoming increasingly expensive were all concerns he expressed to them during fits of frustration. Even before everything began to circle a downward spiral, late nights were an occupational hazard. With or without emergencies the average shift could vary greatly in number of hours, there was simply so much to be done. They had all witnessed him bringing home enough work to know this much.

If there was the added bonus that he would not have to interact with any of them with these horrible thoughts it was just that, an added bonus.

No amount of work seemed to distract him entirely, mind always wandering back to them. Every thought consumed entirely by the photos Lyra spammed their group chat with, every so often a ping alerting him to yet another photo. The latest at least was a video. One of her, Rafayel, and Caleb cuddled in plush sheets wearing coats he recognized. A little more than half of their amorous group had made themselves comfortable in his clothes, newer ones not the one they had stolen from him before.

The thought doesn't make him feel good like it always did.

As if summoned by his thoughts there is a flustered nurse waiting anxiously at his door. There's a nervous expression on the man's face as he shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. It was the expression many people wore when they told him he was needed somewhere soon, despite how close he was to clocking out.

Staying a little later to help with whatever situation the anxious nurse had would be a welcome distraction from his thoughts.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Uhm... Dr Zayne there's a man in the waiting room," he managed to squeak out, his face flushed red in embarrassment. "He won't leave until you go see him, please help he's scaring the patients and staff."

The long-suffering sigh Zayne let out could be felt throughout the hospital. A surge of irritation coursing through him immediately, of course. It was impossible for him to have a moments peace, even at work. He should have learned as much being involved with so many people who loved to flirt with danger as much as they loved to flirt with one another. It lent them all an air of... unapproachability that the average person didn't have. A menacing look like they might actually kill the next person to speak near them, it was an interesting side effect of the lives they all live.

Most of them are capable of controlling it to varying degrees of success, only one of them struggled to appear friendly. It's for this reason that Zayne doesn't need to be told a description of the strange man, the fact that people were scared to stand beside him and given how late at night it was there was only one person it could be. His suspicions are quickly confirmed when he got to the waiting room.

Sylus stood out amongst any crowd, even when in his own territory it was impossible not to be drawn to Sylus. Whether it was his imposing figure or unique features that drew people, once their eyes found him, they couldn't look away. It never seemed to bother Sylus. He always towered over the crowd and wore various expressions that could be read as bored out of his mind.

Now is no different than any other time, Sylus stood in a corner of the room and still all eyes are fixated on him. Fluorescent lights casting white light that made silver hair several shades lighter, sharpening his expression that Zayne knew was neutral but everyone else read as threatening. Crimson eyes remained glued to his phone, probably watching the video Lyra sent earlier if the upward curl of his lips was anything to go by. In his free hand he cradled a small box like it was a precious jewel... knowing Sylus that wasn't entirely out of the question. The idea of it being a weapon wasn't out of the question either and he could feel his blood pressure spike at the thought. Zayne can't remember if he ever explicitly told Sylus weapons shouldn't be brought into the hospital.

The fact that security lingered nearby didn't help his nerves. They couldn't remove Sylus since he hadn't done anything but stand patiently in the corner of the waiting room. But his presence was more than enough for them to feel the need to remain on standby, even without knowing Sylus' reputation the man radiated too much menace for the average person. Every eye in the room is trained on Sylus, who for his part appeared entirely unbothered by the extra attention. Wherever Sylus went he tended to draw some form of attention. Never enough for it to be a problem, at least not that Sylus told them.

Zayne wasn't fond of any amount of attention, especially not at his workplace. A boundary that had been well established when they had first began speaking to one another. There had been no ambiguity when he had told them all that unless they were injured none of them should show up. For Sylus to show up regardless of that boundary, causing a spectacle whether he intended to or not, wasn't something he wanted to let go of.

He wanted to be upset.

In any other circumstance he's certain he would be, his colleagues had no clue as to the nature of his relationship. It wasn't something any of them needed to be privy to, it was decided early on in their arrangement that the others would keep their interference at his work to a minimal. Brazen displays of any sort at his workplace were forbidden even for Lyra and Caleb, there are expectations he had to uphold and a reputation as a levelheaded surgeon. His personal life while not affecting that at all in reality could be interpreted as distracting at best and deviant or predatory at worst should the more... traditional of his colleagues' pry into his private life. It was a hassle he didn't want to deal with, not when he had no prepared answer.

But it's Sylus.

He could never turn away Sylus, though he'd never admit that aloud.

"Are you injured," he asked, fighting to keep the worry from his voice as he eyed Sylus up and down. Sylus' posture is too relaxed, or maybe he's becoming more and more paranoid. His family, for lack of better word, were always in some form of mortal peril. They called it occupational hazards, he called it recklessly endangering their lives and testing the strength of his heart. If their fates were entirely in his hands, he would keep them all hidden away. Frozen in a perfect moment for the rest of their lives, a home built in some remote forest far away from everything that desired to bring them pain. Nightmares, violence, and pain would never touch a single one of them. They would grow old together in a place that EVER, the wanderers, and even mass extinction could not reach them. But he is a doctor not a god, creating a little world just for them wasn't something he was capable of. Making sure their injuries were treated was. "What is your pain level?"

"What a warm hello from my favorite doctor," Sylus replied, drawing out his words as he watched Zayne. "Your colleagues aren't as warm as you."

There are even more eyes on the both of them now that Sylus has spoken.

"If you aren't injured, why are you at my workplace?"

"Are you banning me from seeking medical attention, I didn't know you could be so cruel doctor," Sylus teased, dragging out the syllables for as long as he could, voice dipping low and soft. "I’m hurt."

"Emotionally or physically," he retorted swiftly, eyes flicking over Sylus' form and scanning for any obvious injuries before he could stop himself. No blood, no scrapes, no heavy breathing, no bruising or discoloration, nothing different about his posture. There was nothing visually wrong with Sylus. Except that instead of his signature coat he was wearing one of Zayne's, a dark coat that he didn't remember owning. It could be a cover; it wouldn't be first time Sylus hid an injury by switching jackets. "You'll have to remove... your jacket if you're injured, if not I'll recommend a colleague for your emotional concerns."

"I think I'll keep the jacket if it's all the same to you doc," Sylus replied, pushing himself off the wall and moving to stand closer to him. "As for emotional, well I'd prefer you deal with my emotional needs, you're so good at the physical ones."

If everyone wasn't staring before they certainly are now.

"You can be patient and wait till we're home," Zayne reprimanded sharply, more than aware of the eyes that zeroed in on him. Letting out a long sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sy— Skye why are you here?"

"I brought you a gift," Sylus answered, a shit eating grin on his face as he held out the small box, a beautiful dark container tied off with a deep red ribbon. "There's a baker I know, experimenting with new macaron flavors. Who better to assess this new development than the foremost expert himself."

"You can't show up at my workplace unannounced and cause a scene to drop off macarons," he reminded Sylus, voice torn between exasperation and fondness. "It's unprofessional."

"There's nothing professional about our relationship, I fail to see the problem with dropping off gifts."

"Sylus."

"Oh, come now doc don't be so cold to me. I may not be one of our precious pets, but I thought you were at least a little fond of me," Sylus mocked lightly, leaning into his personal space. A bad habit Zayne has yet to punish him for, the lack of personal space was something he didn't mind at home but in places like this the behavior couldn't be ignored. There was a sense of propriety Sylus lacked, either from lack of knowledge on basic etiquette due to his upbringing or willful ignorance. He wasn't sure which frustrated him more. "Running away from me now? You're hurting my feelings."

The reprimand he had prepared died on his tongue.

It could be a conjuration of sleep deprivation, a trick of the mind at worst, but there was a flicker of something on Sylus' face that gave him pause. The longer he stared at Sylus silently the more he knew there was something he was missing. Was it the eye contact, or lack thereof, Sylus always made eye contact when he spoke with them. There was a certain joy they knew he derived from letting his aether core tease their minds just enough for them to feel his presence. A subtle claim—

Ah.

Sylus was waiting for him to take the gift, the gift still outstretched offhandedly towards him. That was where his eyes were affixed, watching and waiting for Zayne to take the little offering.

"Thank you for the macarons," he replied softly, taking the box from Sylus and offering him a gentle smile. Any amount of frustration slipped away as Sylus' expression softened in real time. It was comforting to know he wasn't the only one that worried about what the others thought of him... though he couldn’t help but feel mildly guilty that Sylus felt he had any reason to doubt him. "You may wait for me in my office if you wish, so long as you promise not to create another scene."

"I didn't do a thing," Sylus said, beaming with barely concealed pride. "I just stood here."

"I know you didn't." It was unfair to expect Sylus to control how the people around him viewed him, truly he was certain Sylus hadn't done a thing wrong. Only stood politely in the corner of the room, he just exuded menace. Another pang of guilt as he grabbed Sylus' wrist and began guiding the man to his office. "Next time you want to leave a gift or visit me, go to my office directly."

"Ashamed of me doctor?"

Is that what Sylus thought?

That the reason for frustration and secrecy was because he was ashamed of him — of them?

Is that what they all thought?

The notion made him freeze in his tracks, releasing Sylus' wrist he grabbed his face instead, planting kiss on his forehead before he could think better of it.

"I'm not ashamed of you," he stated simply, clearing his throat as his ears heated up in embarrassment. "The emergency room is for patients however, not doting lovers."

Sylus didn't reply with a snarky word or quip, but he did grab Zayne's hand. Silently squeezing and following after without a word of complaint.

Zayne doesn't need to glance back to know the expression on Sylus face, he only needed to see it once to commit it to memory. The ways Sylus pupils would go wide, a mild look of surprise, a faint dust of blush.

He would go home on time today, for a plethora of reasons. Certainly, the fact that the rumors of him kissing a dangerous looking man on the forehead would spread quickly. Worse than wildfire during a dry summer. There was no harm in avoiding addressing the rumors tonight... and it would be rude to leave Sylus alone in his office.

Rafayel and Zayne

Another sleepless night spent far away from his home, the hospital as well. They had all but forcibly removed him from the building when they learned he attempted to stay the night once more. He was no use to any of them when he was this dead on his feet, sending him home to rest and barring him from any real work was there best bet. However, going home to sleep simply wasn't an option.

Lyra and Caleb took over his home... something he loved more deeply than he could articulate with words. Making his world their own space was something they had done since childhood, for them to feel free enough — safe enough — to do so once again made his heart swell. That reason is precisely why he couldn't go home. The last thing he wanted was for those nightmares to crash into the carefully constructed peace they've built for themselves. He couldn't destroy everything they've built because of dark ice and a stranger in his body. Just the thought of cradling Lyra's body the same as he had done years ago, or facing the confused heartbreak on Caleb's face as he asked what happened... he couldn't do it again.

It only wanted to hurt her.

So, he couldn't be near her.

Rafayel's home is the furthest from her that didn't require him driving through the N109 zone this late at night or public transit. One of those was worse than the other but in his exhaustion addled mind he couldn't decide which. Regardless of which was worse than the other he would be experiencing neither, driving himself to Rafayel's home.

None of the lights are on but there is the dim glow of candles from the studio that told him Rafayel was still awake despite how late it was... he was hardly one to judge. It was much needed reminder when he opened the front gate and then again the door with ease, not a single entry locked. He couldn't be upset at Rafayel for blatantly reckless and stupid for not locking his home up for the night, the man is very clearly awake. If anyone were foolhardy enough to attempt something they would be the ones startled to find a very much awake and irritable Rafayel. It didn't make him any less irritated... but it would be an issue he filed away for now, a conversation for another day. He was seeking a place to stay there would be no point in arguing.

Rafayel is exactly as he expected him to be, laying on the floor in his studio staring up at the veiling. Skin, clothes (his jacket, the one from the photo's Lyra sent the day prior and this time it does make him feel good), and hair smeared with varying shades of blue that shimmered in the light almost the same way his scales did. Spilled water tinted blue seeped into the white of Rafayel's shirt, scattered coral paintbrushes splayed haphazardly around the Lemurian. Despite all this, or maybe because of it, Rafayel was an ephemeral vision of lost worlds. A dream that flickered in the flames of candlelight and faint glow moonlight, wavering with the roar of the waves on the shore just outside.

"You know you can like come in and not linger like you wanna kill me or something," Rafayel called out to him, a smirk on perfect lips that are smudged with a blue like winter. "Take the couch."

They never question each other when it came to late nights, there was mutual understanding about the nature of their lives and work. Sometimes, sleep was something that they couldn't afford for various reasons. Any criticisms would only result in circular arguments and conversations that would lead to the same result every time. Instead, they enjoyed the presence of another soul to keep them company at night. Sometimes a silent night, other times one filled with conversation until one of them gave in to sleep.

He preferred the latter tonight, the idea of sleeping any time soon was something he'd rather avoid... at least for a while longer.

"You looked comfortable," he began simply, struggling to find the place to begin a conversation. It has never been something he was good at, breaching the space between himself and someone else. Always too awkward, too clinical, too unfeeling. None of them mind, it doesn't make him feel any better. "In the videos from yesterday."

"You could've joined us, always room for more in my bed. Like seriously there was miles between us, I had to make a century long journey just to get them close enough to me. We almost lost apple boy in the pillows somewhere. But cutie refused to leave him, delayed our journey by a whole decade. By the time we got back to the center of the bed the world had totally changed, the seagulls were super skinny. After such a perilous journey we had to show off our survival of course," Rafayel said, reciting a tall tale filled with more exaggeration and grandeur than usual, even for him. "So like no matter what that crow says I've got the biggest bed out alllll of us, you could've stayed over."

"I was working, not all of us have the luxury of deciding our hours at leisure," he pointed out dryly, smiling despite himself as he leaned adjusted his place on the couch. "I couldn't leave."

"Well make time cause it gets so hot without you in bed," Rafayel complained, rolling onto his back to stare up at the ceiling rather than the various works that decorated the floor. Thomsas was going to be aghast that such beautiful works were being left carelessly on the floor so close to a pallet of still wet paint. "It's sooo hot we won't last the summer without you by our sides."

"You only keep me around for my evol."

"Puh-lease you keep me around for the same reason, you're like the first one to lay on me if cutie doesn't sink her claws in me."

Rafayel's words trailed off quietly and for a moment Zayne worried something had happened, but Rafayel's gaze was still fixed on the ceiling. Even his expression remained entirely the same. He has known Rafayel long enough to notice the subtle shifts, the briefest tense of muscles in his shoulder.

"What are you thinking about?"

Silence stretched on for too long, far too long for it to be considered normal by Rafayel standards. There isn't supposed to be silence with him, not this kind of silence. Silence with Rafayel was never real silence, there would be humming or the sound of tapping against paper or canvas. When Rafayel is "silent" there's still so much life in the air around him it didn't feel silent at all. This silence was so unlike him. Suffocating, crushing his lungs and prying the air from within him as if he was truly drowning as the tides dragged him to the bottom of the ocean. It was heavy, oppressive, and far too still.

"Where are your parents gonna stay when they visit you?" Rafayel finally said after a moment, his words lacking any hint of teasing or amusement that it usually held. Zayne straightened himself on the couch, sitting up to give Rafayel his full attention, there was more to this than simple curiosity. "Nah never mind they'll stay with you duh, or some fancy hotel... I can pay for a nice hotel. Or Sylus has a villa he doesn't use for weapon storage, last time I was there it was full of paintings."

"That won't be necessary, when my parents visit, they prefer to stay in my home," he answered honestly, observing Rafayel for any changes in his demeanor. "When in Linkon they prefer to be near as possible, the trip would be worthless otherwise so they say."

"Right yeah that makes sense... when are they visiting?"

"You needn't worry about any of this, they're my responsibility," he assured Rafayel but the lack of a response made him relent. Just this once. "I have no idea when they'll visit, they've become much more spontaneous since retirement."

It was a simple truth, his parents rarely visited, maybe thrice a year if they missed him terribly. If the outliers were to be ignored then it'd be once a year, randomly with no real warning except maybe a call the night before to let him know they were coming to stay with him. This year's visit had yet to happen and with the rapidly approaching end he could understand some amount of nerves. But there were years where his parents didn't show at all. They valued their time and space exploring the world just as much as he valued his time and space working here. The three of them worked very hard to have the life that they have now, none of them wanted to give it up. Facetime calls were more than enough to keep the distance from feeling too much, it had been their routine since his childhood.

It wasn't something that brought him worry nor anxiety before, certainly there some... uncomfortable half-truths that would need to be told when his parents inevitably came to visit. The day he would have to sit them down and create a story convincing enough to explain both why Caleb was alive and why he was the new colonel of the Farspace Fleet would be a nightmare. His temporary resignation from Akso a few months prior would be uncomfortable to explain should it be brought up. While he shuddered to think how difficult it would be to explain his currently living situation let alone his relationship—

A metaphorical lightbulb lit up as he guessed at the reason for Rafayel's sudden questioning.

"You're worried about their opinions." It isn't a question so much as it is a statement. After his encounter with Sylus he has become more aware to the fact that his lovers were more insecure in their relationship with him than he had anticipated. It explained all the gifts at least, attempts to buy affection and stability. They didn't need to do that. "You shouldn't."

"You haven't told them about us," Rafayel guessed, words entirely devoid of tone at all. There was no pout, no annoyance, not even accusation. Simply pure neutrality as he stared up at the ceiling, not even glancing in Zayne's direction. "When they visit you may not tell them about us at all. Which is fine."

It's not.

They both knew it, there would be no verbal or obvious change should he choose not to disclose his relationship to his parents. But there would be subtle ones, moments like this overwhelming silence. Not intentionally, not entirely intentional at the very least. It was his decision in the end but his decision still affected them, affected how they believed he perceived them.

Whether or not he was ashamed of them.

"I merely want to ease them into it," he told Rafayel simply, easing himself off the couch to sit on the floor beside Rafayel. "Allow them to meet the chaos before telling them the chaos is my home."

"What if they don't like us?" Rafayel asked after a beat, adjusting his place on the ground so his head was resting in Zayne's lap. Curling up with a pout formed on his face. "I won't let you leave me."

There is a flash of something darker in those pink irises, an unspoken threat. Not one of violence or vengeance but something deeper. He recognized the look in Caleb many times, possessive to a degree that bordered on clinical insanity. Seeing it on Rafayel's perfect divine face felt... interesting.

Not wrong, just different.

There were many things Rafayel concealed from them, all very easily. It was difficult to remember that he was more than just an overdramatic artist even when he knew partial bits of truth. Malicious intent had been hidden so easily by charming words and playful mannerisms. Even his cruelest plans of revenge and blood thirst had been concealed beneath layers upon layers of pouting and feigned weakness. Seeing Rafayel's obsessive streak still caught him thoroughly off guard.

It made him pause for just a moment to stare longer at Rafayel. The look on his face was gone as though it had never been there at all. Once again, he found himself more empathetic to Lyra's plight when it came to ascertaining their allegiances. Rafayel was a far trickier fish than any of them gave him credit for.

"I wouldn't dare imagine such a thing," he promised, chuckling lightly as he began to run exhausted hands though Rafayel's silk soft hair. "They will care greatly for you all, just as I do."

"You've been avoiding us."

There it was.

"I haven't been avoiding you, I'm here after all. There are simply things I must do, as I told you when I arrived," he deflected, massaging Rafayel's scalp absently. "You are familiar with how demanding my work is."

It is a lie they can both feel it, work is an excuse for absence caused by nightmares.

Rafayel won't call him on it, they have never been the type to comment the other's sleeping habits. No matter how much it may need commentary they have long since settled on a silent agreement. There would be no questions at finding the other awake at late hours, only companionship.

They spoke, even as words through the rest of the evening. The distance between them shrinking as their words slurred with sleep and muddled with exhaustion. All manner of conversation came and went between them, about his parents and what he should say to introduce them all. To new years plans with friends and family despite the date being more than a month away. Nonsensical words about dreams and nightmares, never the ones that haunted them... not the ones filled with dead lovers or blood soaked hands. Only the odd ones, like the snowman and sandman trying to meet in the vast ocean only for them both to dissipate in the waters. Or the summer and winter that never met directly, diametric opposites that could never coexist. It somehow led to discussion of a book Lyra had made them both read, him in childhood Rafayel the day before.

By the time the sun had fully risen they succumbed to exhaustion, asleep on the floor too close to paint. A conversation about the tragic love of pixies from the warm season and the winter season still on their tongues. Ones that had fought nightmares to protect each other but ultimately couldn't overcome their nature.

Zayne tried not to think about how bitterly sweet it was as he finally allowed himself to sleep, cradled in Rafayel's too warm body.

Xavier and Zayne

Zayne was foolish to think he would be able to go on with his life as usual, truly the exhaustion must have made him delusion to believe such a thing. Naive at best to believe that word had not spread amongst his partners about his lack of sleep. Rafayel was never the type to keep his mouth shut about things like this.

It led to each of them taking matters into their own hands in some form. Sylus and Rafayel took to dropping in on him both at work and home to suffocate him in their arms until he relented and took a nap. While Caleb was on a steady track to physical recovery the same couldn't be said for everything else, Lyra had taken it upon herself to care for him in her apartment. Moving both of them out of his bedroom likely their way of helping even if he wished they would have stayed there. Only Xavier was missing from the spectacle... he had yet to make contact with any of them.

A little over a week had passed since Xavier abruptly disappeared, it was nowhere near as long as some of his missions went. Yet his absence was weighing on them all, forced naps from Sylus and Rafayel seemed just as much for their benefit as his. It took hardly any time at all for the two of them to succumb to sleep once the opportunity presented itself, collapsed on top of him regardless of the situation. Every conversation with Lyra over phone always led to the same thing, how no one has been seen leaving or entering Xavier's apartment or Philo. She hadn't heard from the association or her colleagues, subtle inquires all leading to roadblocks.

Though he tried not to, his thoughts could only wander to the worst possible places. Whispered tragedies weaved through his mind so ceaselessly even his nightmares began to alter. New tragedy came in every flickering image withing his half waking nightmares when he fought sleep. With a blink of an eye another one of them was felled by dark ice, another weakness snuffed out the voices whispered. Hospital floors slick with black ice and blood, scattered corpses crusted over with dark frost. A macabre line leading to Lyra's fear filled face as she ran past them with tears in her eyes, rushing to him unaware that they had been felled by his hand.

"Hi."

The voice startled him awake, jolting bolt upright in his seat. Violently reorienting his mind with the reality around him rather than the one that lived within his head. He was not in dark clothes stained and heavy with blood of the people he loved. There was no black ice on the ground, the ground wasn't hospital linoleum but they grey carpet of his office floor in the hospital. He was in his office, asleep at his desk, not racing down the too familiar halls of a hospital decorated with frost mangled corpses and saturated with blood.

And Xavier stood in front of him, blinking slowly at him with big startlingly blue eyes. No worse for wear than when he had seen him last, as if no time at all had passed. He was even wearing the same white hoodie, always the same white hoodie and jeans. He was beginning to understand Lyra's mild annoyance every time he wore his black button up and slacks.

Scolding words died on his tongue as it clicked that Xaiver was standing in front of him after being missing for so long. Anger took a back seat as he got up from his desk quickly, almost tripping over the chair legs in his haste to get closer to Xavier. Grabbing Xavier's face in his hands and turning his head to the side, glancing at the collar just faintly visible around his neck.

Whatever the device's purpose of the collar it was unchanged, he would take it as a good sign for now. Likely consult with Sylus later about helping him to convince Xavier to allow them a better look at it or (hopefully) explanation from him about its purpose. Wondering if it could provide explanation for why Xavier's heartbeat was always so painfully faint and slow, even at times of extreme stress or pleasure. Or the constant requirement for naps that never seemed to be enough and were only growing in terms of frequency and length.

"Zayne, are you done?" Xavier asked in mild confusion while Zayne continued to poke and prod. Still, he didn't push him, away, instead standing perfectly still while Zayne checked him over, only voice complaints and queries. "You're squeezing my cheeks too tight."

"I'm merely making sure you're truly standing here in one piece," he dismissed cooly, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinized Xavier further. "You can't go as you please anymore, you have to tell us when you go.

"Are you worried about me?"

"That's a pointless question."

"I'm worried about you too," Xavier told him, stepping into his space and forcing him back a step. A soft smile on his too sweet face, gaze fixated on the couch against the window. Without another word he grabbed Zayne's hand and led him over to the couch. "You shouldn't sleep on your office chair like that, you'll only catch a cold. You should be in a warm bed, it's better for your health and rest. At least this couch."

"Which one of us is the doctor again?" He asked pointedly, glowering at Xavier as he was pushed onto the couch. "My health isn't to be called into question by an unqualified voice. Let alone one that disappeared for eleven days without a word of warning."

"I'm more qualified than the average person," Xavier replied confidently. "I came back. I always do."

There are a thousand thoughts that jump to his mind, about how there was never any guarantee that Xavier would come back. That even if there was, he would never be okay with Xavier simply disappearing for days at a time without a word of wandering. Though the amount of time Xavier spent away from them is hardly a drop in the vast span of his prolonged life it is more than enough time for Zayne to worry. Was it so selfish to want them all to be within reach, to keep them safe in the way he knew best because no one else in the world is capable of taking care of his lovers. Not the way they needed to be cared for. These powerful, otherworldly, and strange people are treated as invulnerable paragons of strength by everyone around them. Pushed too far, stretched too thin, forced to persevere until they are physically incapable of going any further. He was the only that understood they were just people, just human. Frail and soft humans despite all outside appearance.

They were so frighteningly vulnerable it terrified him.

"I am allowed to worry."

"You can worry. But you aren't allowed to be paranoid, leave that to me," Xavier said after a moment, teasing softness fading into something solemn. "I wish I didn't have to go so far away. It can't be avoided... but it sucks. I don't like being away from any of you, I miss too much when I'm gone. Just look at yourself, love, your eyebags have eyebags. You're exhausted."

The weight of the word is heavy on such a soft voice.

There was no judgement, simply pure concern and compassion. As expected from Xavier, a gentle concern that disguised the fact that there was a thinly veiled insult about his current state. It fell to the back of his mind as Xavier placed a hand on his face, he chased the soft warmth that cradled him, all the tension slipping away.

"We can sleep here," Xavier hummed, the lights in his office flickering off as soon as his gaze landed on them. "Your couch is comfortable."

"I know."

It was a necessary addition to his office after Caleb died, Lyra couldn't sleep alone but neither of them had been ready to bridge the gap between them. Not enough that it would feel right for either of them to spend the night in the others home. Instead, he bought a couch for his office, the softest one he could find. She slept on the couch whenever she wanted, he would spend his evenings asleep at his desk just a little ways from her.

Maybe things would be better if he loved her less, if he kept the distance between them instead of bridging the gap. Her life wouldn't be in danger every time he closed his eyes, there would be no dark ice chasing after her. The others would take better care of her if he wasn't a factor, all their attention on keeping each other safe instead of worrying over when his next... episode might be.

"Stop thinking bad thoughts," Xavier ordered, headbutting him gently a small frown on his otherwise serene face. "You're not allowed to think about anything but me."

"You can hardly police my mind," he scoffed, pushing Xavier's face lightly. "Though I'll develop brain trauma if you continue subjecting me to minor blunt trauma with your thick skull."

"My skull isn't thick," Xavier huffed petulantly, not wasting any time in collapsing on top of him in retaliation. His face smothered in his chest, legs somehow already tangled, and arms wrapped securely around his neck. "Just rest."

"The door is unlocked."

"I locked it when I came in," Xavier corrected him, pressing a kiss to his jaw as he adjusted himself. "And I left a note."

"A note?" He echoed in amusement, turning his head to allow Xavier full access to his neck. "What note would deter my staff, I'll have to make use of it."

"Do not disturb," he beamed brightly, all too proud of himself. "And I told Yvonne that you're having sex. With me to be clear."

"You what."

"I only told Yvonne," Xavier promised sweetly, alternating between biting and licking his pulse point. "She'll be too anxious to bother us and won't let anyone else in."

"You couldn't think of any other excuse," he reprimanded Xavier, pulse racing under his gentle ministrations. Calloused warm hands had worked their way under his shirt and massaged his back. There were no intentions of anything more, just lazy loving. He would enjoy it more if his separation from work and his personal life wasn't teetering on collapse. As if Sylus showing up unannounced and accidentally creating a scene wasn't bad enough. "Regardless of whether that was an... appropriate thing to say to my colleague... Yvonne along with the rest of the hospital don't know about the nature of our relationship yet."

"Don't pretend like you want to hide us. You love us too much to pretend that," he said, grinning against his skin as he dragged his tongue across his jaw. "Unless what you're really upset about is taking a nap instead of having sex? We haven't had sex in your office yet, it could be fun. I hear it's a good sleep aid."

The pure innocence on Xavier's face despite his words and actions never failed to give Zayne whiplash. Perfect angelic features that let Xavier get away with far too much, too sweet eyes and a perfect innocent smile as if he wasn't feeling him up.

"Xavier."

"I'll behave for now on," he promised sweetly, honeyed words belying whatever his true intentions are. At the very least he made a show of behaving, no longer feeling him beneath his shirt and instead traced nonsensical patterns on his skin. "Wouldn't want your staff to know you have sex with your hunter patients after all. That would be incredibly unethical. Right doc-tor?"

"You're barred from coming into my office alone ever again," he muttered underneath his breath, finally giving up and sinking into the couch. Loosely he draped his arm over Xavier's body, relishing the comforting weight of another body on top of him. With every passing day it was becoming harder for him to sleep without the weight of another person, the warmth of someone he loved dearly needed to permeate his skin before he could even think to sleep... it made his affliction all the worse. He tightened his grip on Xavier. "We will talk about your disappearance when we wake up."

"Of course."

"And no more than an hour."

"I promise."

They both knew that was a lie, though neither of them minded.

Everyone and Zayne

For the first in an age the day passed without interruption or incident. There was no one in his office bloody and beaten, no one creating a scene anywhere in the hospital, no heads poking out from beneath his desk waiting to ambush him. Everyone was exactly where they should be, accounted for with proof both within the group chat and online. It should be something he's glad for, being able to work without interruptions after so long of being accosted by them... truth be told it was the opposite.

He had gotten used to the presence of another person — of the five fools he had taken as his home. Every corner of his life was filled with them, to suddenly be deprived of their company without warning was a greater discomfort than he had thought it would be. Even if it is what he should want, putting distance between himself and them was for the best after all.

The nightmares had yet to cease, only evolve. Whispered cruelties towards them all, accompanied by vitriol carved paths of dark ice along his arms and the familiar voices of the dead calling to him. Begging and screaming for retribution at all hours of day while he did his best to drown out the noise. It was his fate to suffer this cost, he should want to be alone.

A workday without interruption, easier to leave behind work than lovers.

A solitary walk home, take the alleys where alterum lurk.

An empty shell of a house loomed before him, dark and imposing like the fractal library.

Only a single light on in his bedroom nearly suffocated by the imposing shroud of shadows, the library is more secluded than this paltry excuse for a home.

He belonged in the fractal library.

Alone among ice and snow.

It would welcome him back now, even without her corpse.

That could come later.

Just go—

"Hullo hubby!"

Before the words even register in his mind his arms are full of a small woman, his favorite tyrant with her arms wrapped tight around his neck and grinning up at him with the sweetest look on her flushed face. Crimson hair stuck up in several directions, tickling his neck and the bottom of his jaw as she swung herself in his arms.

Another body crashed into his, staggering back a step as the all too familiar scent of apples flooded his senses. He has no time to react as Caleb wrapped his arms suffocatingly tight around his center, squeezing Lyra tighter to his body.

"Took you long enough doc," Sylus drawled, stretching his body lazily as he exited the bedroom followed closely by Rafayel and Xavier. "Any longer and we would have started without you, dinner that it is."

"We already started the other thing," Xavier told him brightly, ears red and a mark that wasn't there yesterday blooming on his collar bone. "We got bored."

"We were playing pile it up but someone is a cheater," Rafayel hissed in Caleb's direction, pink eyes narrowed and accusing. "The tower always fell on my turn!"

"Maybe you're just bad at the game," Caleb retorted, voice muffled slightly from his face being pressed so deep in Zayne's chest. "Not my fault you're bad at the game."

"You used your evol! All of you do," Rafayel snapped, whirling around to glare at Sylus. "I saw you too! Don't think I didn't, you totally should have knocked it over like three times!"

"Aw don't be so upset," Sylus smirked, condescension dripped from his words as he grabbed Rafayel by the nape of his neck. "I promise to make it up to you after we take care of our good doctor."

"You— you can't bribe me, I am a man with principles and dignity," Rafayel sneered at him. "Just because you're handsome doesn't mean you can get whatever you want. I'm the siren."

None of them commented on how despite his venom Rafayel didn't pull away from Sylus. The same way none of them commented on how Lyra and Caleb were still wrapped around Zayne, or that Xavier was holding onto Caleb by his back pocket. Nor the fact that Sylus's aether core was shining so brightly the hall was partially illuminated. Certainly, didn't comment on how Lyra's heart seemed to sync with the ebb and flow of the red light. There wasn't any reason to comment on any of it... this was just how they are.

How things should be.

Dreams of corpses impaled by dark ice and trails of blood soaked jasmine petals all strewn to create a macabre line leading to a frostbitten woman... it isn't real. In another lifetime maybe it is, in that world he spied in his nightmares, with that other version of himself that is so painfully alone he felt the lingering sorrow like an open wound.

In this world none of that is real.

There is no empty apartment, no empty building filled with the bare essentials. Every corner of his house was filled with his lovers. A closet that held spare clothes for all of them and his clothes that went missing always found on them. The calendar in his home office littered with their handwriting, different colored pens and stickers in a spare drawer. Six toothbrushes, six towels, three different types of hairbrushes, a pantry fully stocked with everyone's favorite snacks, and so on.

Not a single aspect of his life was untouched by them, that is what was real. Whether or not he should want it... if he was allowed to want it... didn't matter.

This was already real.

Their bodies warm and alive and heavy and so so so real are his to love. Their hearts yielding and too soft for this world are his to nurture and cherish. Their souls so interconnected they may as well be woven together, cosmically intertwined for this lifetime and every one after it.

And maybe there is a day where those nightmares may come to pass, where the horrors may become his reality. A time could come where he would have to leave them all behind for a final time or risk their lives. There may come a day where he would have to be alone once again, left on a path of a dark ice with not a single soul to be found because the path to forgiveness was one forged in isolation. A predetermined fate, no matter how unfair it was, he may not be able to change it. All the things he feared and fought actively against could simply happen, he is just a man.

And there is no shame in being human.

To be afraid... but more importantly to want.

He wants them.

He wants this.

To lie in a too small bed, bodies piled and tangled together. A mess of limbs and blankets, contortions that would leave their bodies aching. Conversations that flowed from their lips more easily than breathing, even a sleep that is a blanket instead of a slab of ice placed over his chest. There is no rush, no worry, no impending doom or a fate that can never be overwritten.

Just softness.

Pure, warm, gentle, softness.

His lovers are the spring that pull him from winter's cruelness.

They love him very dearly.

He loves them too.

[bunnylovesspace]

I got sidetracked, and I found this sad trend where it's like “oh, that's MC's kid.. That's not my kid though :(” for Love and Deepspace. For the record, I'm supposed to be sleeping 😅

Anyway, instead of bringing more angst into my brain, MC and the LIs are in a polycule together and these are their daughters :)

These three are the oldest! Valerie is Sylus’s daughter, and she's the first born. Second born is Jasmine, Zayne's daughter. Third born and middle child of the group is Sloane, Caleb's daughter.

And these are the youngest of the family! Juniper is Xavier's daughter, and Gwendolyn; the youngest, is Rafayel's daughter.

And this is Helena Annette, my MC and their mother (in an alternate universe, anyway!)

The family trope will always have me in a chokehold, I fear 💕

[blackcat2907]

For the fic prompts, 2 ("Hey, hey, calm down, they can't hurt you anymore")?

Any fandom, have a ball!

Hihi! I'm so sorry this took this long, but I hope you enjoy!

Gravitational Breakdown

Words: 2.1K

Main Pairings: AppleSnow, PolyLADS

Caleb suffers from nightmares and hurts himself and others. Zayne tries his best to pull Caleb from his downward spiral.

Ao3 Link

“Hey, come on! Wake up!” 

Caleb banged on the glass, eyes wide with horror as she didn’t get up. Scientists ran around in a panic, yelling about how the energy of the Aether Core was unstable. Terror gripped him, and he yelled louder. His evol cracked the glass before he received a hard electrical shock. 

Finally, she woke up, gasping for air. Caleb pretended not to hear the scientists say she’d been dead. This wasn’t the first time she’d danced with death, and it wouldn’t be the last. Over and over he saw her die and her heart restart. It made him sick, and each time he vowed to get them out of there. Get her to someplace safe where they could grow up together without the fear of more needles, pain, and experiments. The scene in front of him melted away, replaced by one that was no less terrifying.

“What did you do!?” 

Caleb lunged at Zayne, eyes blazing. Zayne didn’t even try to stop him. In the background he could see her being taken away in an ambulance. The air was still freezing, the ground decorated with lethally sharp spikes of glimmering ice. Caleb knew it wasn’t Zayne’s fault, but he couldn’t lose her. Not again. Never again. 

“Since you’re grown up now, I won’t cover for you.” 

Smoke burned his lungs as he tried to gasp in air. His body hurt like hell, and he couldn’t feel his right arm. His head spun and his ears started to ring. Caleb struggled to his feet, vision blurring as he thought he saw people dressed in black approach the rubble he was trapped under. Before he could say anything, it all went dark. 

Caleb screamed in agony, fighting against the evol cancelling restraints. Scientists with tools fiddled with his right arm, making him metal braces and prosthetics. It hurt so much. Caleb screamed again, clawing at nothing. He tried to reach out for his evol but nothing happened. 

The chip was worse. They were cruel enough to keep him awake as they implanted it. A test of pain tolerance, they said. Caleb knew the truth. They just liked to hear people scream. EVER, the damned professor, the Fleet, Caleb didn’t know who to blame anymore. His throat was raw from screaming.

“Stop it!” Caleb jolted up, breathing fast and hard. He clawed at his hair, pulling and tugging. His heart pounded and cold sweat dripped down his back. It was dark, and he couldn’t recognize the sight of his room. His body wracked with shudders and quiet sobs. Theroom was too dark and too quiet, reminding him of dark isolation chambers. 

He reached under his pillow with his mostly numb right arm, relaxing slightly when his fingers curled around something hard—the handle of one of his guns. The other was hidden away in case of emergencies. Even though he could tell there was something in his fist, the lack of sensation in the heavily modified limb meant the familiar cold creeping from the metal of the gun was missing, so he switched it to his left hand. Caleb needed to feel something. He shivered and shuddered, his hands shaking. 

His chest hurt. He couldn’t breathe properly. There was too little and too much noise all at once. The walls were closing in on him, and if he shut his eyes he’d be plunged into a deeper darkness. The chip sent pain through him as his emotions kept rising. 

Pain, pain, pain, pain…

Pain is all Caleb had ever been in. He grit his teeth. When would the pain end? He wanted it so stop! Why wouldn’t it stop!? He felt like he was drowning and he couldn’t swim. The gun fell to the floor as he ripped his night shirt off, clawing at his chest and where the metal merged with skin on his shoulder. More pain. 

At least it was him and not her. That thought alone was all that grounded him as the agony running through his body threatened to drag him back into that kaleidoscope of all the worst moments of his life. Another broken sob escaped him. He cursed EVER for taking him as a child. He cursed them for blowing him up and taking him back and turning him into this weapon. He hated it. He hated it. He hated it! 

The burden of it all—the pain, the horrors, the secrets—threatened to break him but there was nothing he could do but bear it. He couldn’t bother Pips,he made a promise not to. He was supposed to be the one to carry everything, to protect her from what she couldn’t fight against. Besides, Pips had just gotten home with Xavier from a long mission, and Caleb refused to wake her up. If she saw him like this, she’d panic and ask questions he didn’t want to answer. Caleb had always been the strong one, the one to shoulder the pain and burdens of the world for her. He’d never allow her to see him breaking down. It just couldn’t happen. 

Pain jolted through him, and his fingertips came back red. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to see the blood from scratching and pulling at the metal. He grimaced and angrily scratched harder. Pain was nothing anymore. It was so frequent he’d gotten good at ignoring it. More blood coated his fingers. 

Screams echoed in his mind, followed by flashes of electricity and those cruel, cruel bastards. The EVER logo ever present in the background. Caleb hated them. He wanted to crush them under the weight of his gravity, throw them into the deepest, darkest black hole he could muster. Or maybe he’d simply blow every EVER lab and building he could find. 

“y…ey…h’y…HEY!” A hand smacked him, his head jerking to the side. Purple eyes widened and locked onto blue-pink ones, reflecting his own sweat-drenched face back at him. Rafayel frowned, the arch of his eyebrows and the twist of his lip spoke of anger, likely at being woken up in the middle of the night, but there was a faint trace of concern in his eyes too. “Snap out of whatever crisis you’re going through. Some of us need to sleep.” 

“What are you—” Rafayel was cut off by Caleb lunging at him, hands wrapping around his throat, cutting off air supply. The Lemurian sea god coughed, eyes glowing a deep blue as scales formed on his face. Before he could summon a sea spirit or a rush of water, the room got cold, too cold, and Caleb was pulled off of him. 

“What the hell was that?” Rafayel spat, gasping for air and coughing. He rubbed his throat, already mourning the makeup he’d have to use to cover up finger shaped bruises. Hiscomplaints were cut off when he saw the state Caleb was in, eyes wild and panicked, body quivering and shaking, blood on his hands and shoulder. 

“Hey, hey,” Zayne soothed, holding Caleb tightly. “Calm down, they can’t hurt you anymore. You’re not there anymore.” He gently cupped Caleb’s face in his hands, the cold grounding Caleb. “You’re home. With me. With us. Breathe.” 

“Make it stop! Make it stop,” Caleb trembled violently, pain shooting through his arm and head. The more he got worked up, the more it hurt. Tears slid down his cheeks, his vision blurred as he tried to focus on Zayne and Rafayel. His chest hurt from hyperventilating.

Mephisto cawed, signalling Sylus’ return from Onychinus business. Caleb barely registered a fourth person in the room, too lost in scenes from years gone by and the feeling of a knife jamming its way through his brain. He vaguely heard Zayne tell Sylus to get the medical kit, a clean cloth, and some water. Gradually, the throbbing in his skull receded and he allowed his head to drop onto Zayne’s shoulder, all the while wishing he could disappear.

Caleb despised showing any kind of weakness, especially around Pips. He certainly didn’t want to have a literal god and a dragon watch him fall apart, the cracks he was usually so good at hiding, gaping open and leaking the ruined pieces of him all over the floor. Zayne was the only one he truly trusted he could break down in front of. Zayne wouldn’t hold his weaknesses over his head for blackmail or manipulations. No, Zayne would never do that to him. 

The doctor frowned when Caleb barely flinched as he cleaned his bloodied shoulder. He was still shuddering violently, his shaky exhales interrupted every so often by a faint sniffle. Zayne didn't have the heart to push Caleb's head from his shoulder,it would help with his visibility and mobility in cleaning his bloodied shoulder, but Caleb's comfort was more important right now. 

“You're safe,” Zayne murmured quietly, feeling cold anger in his chest as he looked at the scars littering Caleb's back and torso. He finished wrapping up Caleb's shoulder and wiping away the blood from his hands. 

“Don't go,” Caleb hissed, clinging to Zayne when the doctor moved to inspect Rafayel's bruised neck.  “Please,” he whispered quietly, the vulnerability in his voice making Zayne's heart clench. 

“I'm not going anywhere. I just need to check on Rafayel,” Zayne spoke gently yet firmly. “I'm right here.” 

Caleb winced as Zayne mentioned Rafayel, vague memories of his hand clenching around the Lemurian’s throat resurfacing. His grip on Zayne loosened, and he was stuck with the desire to sink into the floorboards and away from the watchful eyes in the room. It was a small miracle Pips hadn't woken up with the commotion. 

“What happened?” Sylus' deep timbre echoed in the small space. He sat down on the plush armchair in the corner of the room. The bed was a bit crowded, and the dragon knew Zayne would yell at him if he tried to join them. The doctor needed his space while he treated Rafayel and Caleb. 

Caleb clenched his jaw and looked away. “Just a nightmare,” he muttered bitterly. He didn't need Sylus worrying about him or worse, mocking him. Logically, he knew Sylus probably wouldn't mock him for having a nightmare, but Caleb's mind was too hectic to think logically at the moment. 

Sylus raised an eyebrow, sharing a glance with Rafayel and Zayne. Caleb never liked to talk about what he’d experienced at the hands of EVER and the Fleet. But they all knew where these night terrors originated. The first time Sylus had heard what EVER did to Caleb, he wanted to see the entire organisation reduced to naught but ash, a sentiment Rafayel had echoed.

“Try again, without lying this time,” Sylus drawled, giving Caleb a pointed look. 

Caleb’s frown deepened and he bit the inside of his cheek. If it were anyone else, he would have ignored them and changed the subject. But when it was Sylus or anyone in the polycule, the same rules didn’t apply, and the automatic dismissal died in his throat. Caleb looked down at his fingers, where Zayne was gently cleaning away the blood having already dabbed his shoulder with an antiseptic. 

“...it’s just night terrors. Sometimes it’s about my childhood or other times it’s after the explosion,” Caleb quietly spoke, taking deep breaths and avoiding eye contact. He hated how vulnerable he felt and looked. He was supposed to be the strong one. He…He had to shoulder everything. To keep her safe. To keep the others safe. If they knew everything then they’d…No, Caleb wouldn’t think about that. 

He didn’t notice Sylus and Rafayel sharing a look or the fact Zayne had finished cleaning and tending to his self inflicted wounds. Exhaustion crashed over Caleb, and he struggled to even keep his eyes open. He didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t want to end up back there. 

“Don’t fight it,” someone murmured to him. “Sleep. We’ll be here when you wake up.” Caleb let them push him back into laying down, his shoulder twinging faintly in pain. Someone apologized, and then a warmth surrounded him. 

When Caleb woke up hours later, he couldn’t move. Not due to fear or anxiety, but from the fact he was at the bottom of a cuddle pile. Sylus was on his right and Zayne on his left. His head was on Sylus’ shoulder. Blinking away his grogginess, he lifted his head to see Rafayel and Pips on top of him and Xavier sprawled out over his legs. 

A small smile made its way on his face. 

He wasn’t alone anymore. 

For the first time in a long time, Caleb wasn’t afraid or in pain. 

A huge thank you to @chronosdawn for looking this over and doing some minor edits! Thank you so much!

[roseunspindle]

Polylads thoughts

1. Rafayel's studio becomes their favorite spot. Its steady. First MC and Xavier often using the space for quiet reading napping respectively. Then Zayne joins them... in multiple ways. He likes doing write-ups and reading medical journals, while the large windows actually provide real sunlight. Rafayel's paintings and sketches often feature them draped on things. Xavier especially since so long as Rafayel does not actually make him be conscious for it, he's down to sleep in a variety of poses. Sylus looks almost distrusting of such a bright and open space. But Rafayel and MC collaborate to drape a corner with a small table and comfy reading chair in random fabric to create a cozy corner for Sylus to read or plot or whatever in. Caleb of course wanted to dislike it... but his inner golden retriever saw cozy and sunshine and the more... extreme parts of his personality were bulldozed. He enjoys napping in sunny spots with Xavier. Building airplane models, going out to run on the beach... For MC herself she reads here and their, or naps draped on one of her boys. Helps Caleb build models... sometimes she quietly sits near Rafayel and hesitantly describes her dreams of...past lives. With all of them. Rafayel will sketch them out for her, eyes warm and gentle. For his Part Rafayel had always thought he'd hate his space to be so invaded... but... it's nice. There is often always someone there and... the world feels a little less lonely...

2. Being in a six-some is just...not for the frail of body. It can be a heady thing but... she's relived that some of her beloved are also down to...get down with each other. A girl needs her sleep and rest okay? (Not that she doesn't pounce on them constantly...)

3. MC can't hide sometimes how happy it makes her to see Caleb of all people relax. She's pretty sure he didn't make a conscious decision about it. Just... especially around Sylus as Sylus' "of course nothing can touch us" vibe Caleb's stress of always being the protector relaxes. Sylus acts smug about it at times but MC can see the softness in his eyes at times when Caleb eases up on his high-alertness.

4. Xavier seems to enjoy having "excuses" to be "possessive" and again with the... who needs sleep? (But seriously poor Charlie. The man passed by all of them the other day and was treated to five possessive stares...

5. Zayne seems to enjoy having more people around to fuss over. He's been trying to convince Rafayel about "healthy sleep schedules" but Rafayel insists they are just "alien conspiracies" which usually prompts Xavier to don his alien glasses while MC provides alien music on her phone as he waves his hands at Rafayel or beams "thoughts" into Zaynes head.

6. Tara and Simone bless them, act like dating five men is a normal thing. They just tease MC for "snagging such good ones" though cheerfully introducing them to Gideon and Thomas has gone a long way towards getting them to drop their teasing.

7. The guys each have their own clothes and styles but there are a few pieces that just...make the rounds. MC really loves the one black shirt with differing weave. She really likes the way the guts all look a tiny bit flushed when she opts to wear it one day.

8. When they all agree to move into one house (mansions sykus it's a mansion)... (each with their own bedroom for personal space) the last thing MC expects is for her closet to start... exploding with new clothes that appear in it. Sometimes day. Her boys are ridiculous.

[rpfshippingpolls]

⚠️ DON’T START DISCOURSE ABOUT RPF IN THE NOTES!! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF YOU DO SO ⚠️

Do you ship it?

Brian Hanby (Terroriser)/David Nagle (Daithi De Nogla)/Seán McLoughlin (jacksepticeye)/Daniel Condren (RTGame)/Kevin O’Reilly (Call Me Kevin)

I ship it!

Sure, why not/I can see it

Neutral

I don’t ship it

I don’t know them

I don’t know them but they seem cute

Non-rpf shipper button

Voting ended onFeb 17, 2025

Reason:

[confusedwritersounds]

Relationship Dynamic

CW: MDNI, sexual content, kink & bdsm topics, past child abuse, science experiment, mildly graphic description of experimentation/torture Notes: Going back to my roots of ranting about love and deepspace while I recover from being sick (again). When I finally recover from this impossible fucking cold it's over for everyone, I will be an unstoppable writing machine fueled by chaos and caffeine. Genuinely though this is just me rambling about anything and everything that even mildly relates to the beautiful and amazing chart I spent the better part of a week filling out (it was worth every second filling out these templates it's so much fun)

I've already done a whole rant about what I think about everyone's sexuality is so I'm just gonna skip over that bit and focus on the general stuff that I've been fixated on

everyone is touch starved and I will be taking zero arguments on that, am I projecting? Yes. But also I'm right. That being said I think some of them are going to have trouble adjusting to touching people

Basically everyone but Sylus and Rafayel struggle with physical touch at first, despite how desperately they all crave it Lyra didn't struggle with physical touch initially, she was always the first to initiate a hug and casual affection with friends. However, after Caleb and gran died she shut down. Her entire world (literally) exploded and collapsed around her, it only continued to unravel as she learned more about the woman that raised her and the truth about her life prior to living with Josephine. The more she learned, the more memories she recovered, the less she sought out the comfort of other people. Not just because she was focused on solving the mystery of her life and everything connected to it, but also an inherent lack of trust in other people now. The person who was supposed to take care of her turned out to be the reason behind the scars she couldn't remember getting and her fault heart. And the person who she shared everything with left her alone, it didn't matter his reasoning, he promised they would always be together... and yet he disappeared from her life with no intention of ever returning. How was she supposed to trust anyone? Caleb didn't struggle with physical touch when it came to Lyra and eventually Zayne. They were safety, home, always have been and always will be no matter what changed... but sometimes to keep home safe that meant never going back. Sometimes the danger to home is yourself. After being taken by the Farspace fleet and EVER he lost all sense of himself. Those memories of Gaia that he had buried in the recesses of his mind resurface in full force. Hands on his arms didn't mean a hug from a girl he loved like it was breathing or the boy who made his heart skip a beat, it meant someone was coming to cut him open again. Take him apart piece by piece to see what made him tick and what they could improve. A hand cupping his face wasn't with the guilt laced affection of a grandmother but the calculating callousness of another researcher trying to scramble his mind. No matter how soft his lovers are to him... he doesn't know if there will ever be a day where he doesn't flinch away from unexpected touch. God forbid one of them touches his false arm or the seamless transition from flesh to metal... Xavier struggles with physical touch only at first. He's spent so long only being allowed to observe. A voyeur in his own life. It was for the best, Philos was a place without emotions. There was no loving, no affection. Simply an empty forever to look forward to. Affection was something that brought only destruction and suffering. It was the sins of the past that drenched their history in blood, at least as it had been taught to him. His mother had loved him, held him so tight that she bruised him... or maybe that had been because they tore him from her arms when she tried to run away with him. He never had the chance to ask, they marched her to the planet's hungry core and no one spoke of her again. That was where affection of any kind brought people, let alone love. Absorbed into the planet's core and erased from history as if they had never existed at all... it's what happened to the Lemurians and the dragons. It happened to his playmates and his friends. So, he simply stopped. It was better this way. To be detached from everyone, even his little brother. Except being detached cost him his queen. It brought him to this world far away from his home teetering on destruction. And it showed him a world where his queen was brought to the core that ate everyone else he's ever loved. It only made sense that after everything he's endured, he's given up on being detached. He doesn't know how long this happiness will last, but he refused to sit bit and watch this time

I do plan to write various fics about everyone's first meetings so I'll keep this simple

On some capacity they all remember Lyra or at least feel compelled to take care of her. Usually with that lingering sorrow in the back of their minds that something very bad was going to happen to her Those who met Caleb before the explosion were mildly unnerved by him but couldn't place why. Those who met him after the explosion are outright hostile towards him at first. With the exceptions of Lyra and Zayne who are mostly coping with the horrors Everyone has a crush on Zayne. That's it, even without memories of those distant lives everyone has a crush on him. They think it's incredibly sexy of him to exist Rafayel unnerved everyone. Lemurians are predators and though they don't lure humans into the waves anymore it doesn't mean those functions no longer exist. His beauty is a lure finely crafted just like his voice, it isn't until you're staring for too long that you realize something is deeply unsettling about him, he undercuts it with his persona Sylus isn't liked by most of them at first, he got on their nerves or endangers their lives upon first meeting. He was so desperate to get his hoard back that it didn't click that his behavior was driving them away. With the sole exception of Rafayel, the two have a turbulent history in the current timeline messy exes my loves Xavier also set off people's alarm bells but for different reasons than being a threat or uncanny (though both of those things are true). He was just so fucking odd they couldn't figure him out

Cooking for them

Lyra doesn't love cooking, at best she's ambivalent towards more often than not. Cooking for herself was the first sign of independence after she moved out from gran's house, but when she wanted, she could always go home and get a homecooked meal... of course than that wasn't possible after the explosion. Sitting hungry in the kitchen after work craving Caleb's cooking was a humbling and isolating experience. Cooking at home for herself... it felt wrong and gross. She ate out instead, it wasn't as if she didn't have the money. People brought her food too, for the first few months after the explosion. Talia and Simone of course. Zayne would share his lunch whenever she visited the hospital. And Rafayel would cook for her whenever she was at his place. Funnily enough, it was Xavier who got her to start cooking at home again. They usually ate out together but during a bad thunderstorm he came to keep her company and cook her dinner. The experience while heartwarming made her take up cooking classes and cooking for herself again, though she prefers having someone cook for her cooking by herself doesn't feel so bad anymore Caleb loves cooking. He can't explain why exactly but cooking for Lyra felt more than right. It felt good. The first time he cooked for her everything fell into place, like it was something he's been doing for years. Providing for his other half, though that wasn't the phrasing he used at the time. He was just Caleb and he was taking care of his Lyra. From there his love of cooking evolved to extend beyond her, teaching his classmates at flight school and showing off his skills to Zayne whenever they met up. Sharing food that he made with people was the closest he's ever come to connecting to other people on a real level without having to divulge the truth about his life Zayne is a good cook and he enjoys being in the kitchen. When he was in med school his classmates taught him everything they knew about cooking (which was admittedly limited). Whenever he successfully completed a dish they rewarded with treats and sweets, he took to the task well. At the time he had been overjoyed not just at the treats but learning a new skill, from there he pursued cooking skills based on his needs. Meal prepping when he first started at Akso, how to use a slow cooker when he was overwhelmed with paperwork, fancy knife skills to impress his partners, and so on Rafayel can cook, he's good at it but doesn't really derive joy from it. That is until he began cooking for people he cared about, it was subtle at first. Like when he was small bringing fish to the king and queen, or when he'd bring food to offer up to his teacher. He'd puff his chest a little and watch eagerly as they ate what he brought to them. The feeling grew stronger as he got older, more so when he began cooking for Lyra. She had been grieving, needed care that he was more than willing to provide for her. Watching her eagerly devour every meal he cooked for her all but made him purr. He would've if he was capable, providing for her felt so good. Cooking with Caleb has become one of his favorite past times with the man, it just felt good Sylus is ambivalent towards cooking, why cook when you have the finest chefs in the N109 Zone at your disposal. The entire culinary world if he or his hoard ever saw fit to demand such a thing. There wasn't any point in cooking for himself when he has no lack of options when it came to meals. When he cooks it's for a purpose greater than feeding himself or his hoard. Sometimes it's to teach Luke and Kieran because, though he loathes to think about it, there will come a day where they'll leave the nest. And of course the excuse to spend time with the people he loves was always something he did with zeal

Xavier can't cook, dear god keep him out of the kitchen. He does his best, truly, he's not purposefully incompetent. It's just one of the few things he was bad at. For good reason at least, he was a prince. Cooking wasn't a task worthy of his time according to tutors. On the Traceback II they had their rations. then on earth there was no reason for him to cook, eating out served his needs just as well and took up less of his time. But just as she had done many times before, Lyra changed that. He wanted to help her in any way he could but at the time the closest he could get to her was through the guise of being a concern coworker and neighbor. When he saw Simone and Tara bringing her home cooked meals he figured he could do the same for her, since then he's taken great pleasure in attempting learning to cook

relationship experience, and I use the word relationship very loosely here (all prior to polycule forming)

Lyra had a sapphic situationship in college with her roommate. It destroyed her. Situation so emotionally scarring she started valuing herself as a person outside of relationships altogether and began a journey towards independence. Fuck a pros and cons chart she did a swot analysis and reconnected with nature. Then proceeded to cope with the aftermath of said situation through copious amounts partying and body shots for like three months. Poor Caleb came back that summer expecting to find his cheerful pipsqueak and instead found her blankly staring out the window with ruined makeup asking if love even exists (godspeed to sapphics surviving and recovering from their situationships you are our strongest soldiers (￣^￣)ゞ). Outside of that she hasn't dated anyone or had any situations, just a one nightstand here and there Caleb hasn't dated anyone. No flings, no hook ups, no situations. Nothing. He's been committed to spending the rest of his life with Lyra since she took his hand in those labs. Dating would take him away from her and that wasn't something he was ever going to let happen. If he had to, he would've spent the rest of his life following her around without any promise for a future with her. It would've destroyed him to watch her fall in love with someone else... but he would've helped her, better to help her fall in love with someone good and kind. Before the explosion he decided it would be best if she picked Zayne. Zayne was perfect in every way that mattered. He was smart, dependable, and attractive. A reliable person who would protect her... and who wouldn't mind him hanging around. It'd be like when the three of them were kids, spending every hour together and playing games. And he'd try his best not to think about the pout of Lyra's lips or the way Zayne's curved softly Zayne has gone on dates but never dated anyone consistently. Friends and colleagues used to try and set him up with women they thought suited him, it always fell through. He wasn't trying to be cold, truly he wasn't, but that didn't change his dates' perception. Some tried to set him up with a man to see if the result would be different, the result was always the same. They quickly gave up. With the excuse of his busy schedule and demanding workload he managed to avoid the topic whenever his parents brought the subject up. Though they always managed to tease him about how much time he would set aside for Lyra and Caleb. Claiming that if he paid even half that much attention to a date he would be married by now Rafayel had a handful of flings and hookups, it was more of an act of self-destruction than companionship. The same way he drove recklessly and chased down thrills that could get him killed. It was a way to finally feel something, feel anything that reminded him that he was a living breathing person. Feeling pain and sorrow and filthy and hurt and disgust was so much better than feeling nothing at all. When the anger ran too deep and he nearly suffocated in it, there were only two choices he ever made. Diving in deeper into the anger and vengeance or chasing a different sort of pain. It was the same cycle until he met Sylus while digging into EVER, and for awhile that was okay. Sylus didn't feel bad. He felt good... even after they split Rafayel didn't have flings or hookups anymore. Maybe it was spite or maybe it was so much anger and pain that no amount of meaningless sex could change it

Sylus is ranked highest purely because he's the only one that remembers the various lives they've all lived together. Countless lifetimes that whispered into his mind and took hold of his dreams in addition to the ones he remembers vividly gives him the most experience by default. In this lifetime the only person he was with before the polycule was Rafayel. Beautiful and cunning Rafayel who always managed to find himself in trouble, no matter how much he tried to dissuade him. It wasn't something he could bring himself to be part of... he has watched his lovers corrupt themselves too many times to willingly be part of it once again. He watched, protected, and loved from afar after Rafayel told him to leave. And he waited, he's spent more years than he can count waiting... it only hurt a little Xavier never dated anyone, even when he was "with" Lyra it wasn't as her boyfriend. There have been times where they were nothing more than friends, others when she was his wife for a short awhile, runaways, lovers, partners. Each time, every title, no matter what it was meant everything. Standing by her side as her equal, her friend and confidant. Supporting her decisions and following through with her requests no matter how much it pained him. And when she died... as she always did... he waited. It didn't matter how many times she died, how many times she came back with no memory of who he was or the lives they lived together. She was still her, still the girl he's loved for 112,238 days. There are others lives he knows, ones that he found himself entangled in during his voyages in deepspace. Lives where Sylus taunted him from a lavish bed of gold, ones where he traded blades and stolen kisses with Rafayel, lives where Caleb kneeled before him as loyal knight before his king, lives where the mysterious Foreseer brought prophecies to him, lives where he has them all. He waited for them patiently in this world. Every second without was worth the wait. After all was there anyone else as lucky as he to have his soul woven together with five people who love him so terribly

ethical versus immoral (let's face it none of them are the most moral people in the world so they're all pretty skewed towards immoral, they're not necessarily bad people but fucking hell)

Lyra is a fair middle ground of the group. Overall, her decisions align with the good of humanity and all that. She enjoys helping people and takes pride in knowing that she is making someone's life better. The picture-perfect hunter, prioritizing the safety of civilians over glory and thrill seeking. That is until her personal goals directly contradict with the best course of action. The good of all matters little when it interferes with her personal wants. She especially becomes cruel and selfish when it comes to her lovers It's not that Caleb doesn't have a sense of morality, he is acutely aware that the things he's doing are wrong and immoral. Lying and using the people who love him more than anything... loving them at all felt like something he wasn't allowed to do. Or the ugly feelings that whispered they were all going to die if he didn't do something, that they'd be better off if could just take control. Cameras, tracking devices, anything to clip the wings of the birds and keep them with him at all times, hidden away from all the evil things in the world. The fact that what he wants and does goes against all morality is part of what keeps him up at night. But in his mind, that's simply his role. To ruin his own soul (if he has one at all). So long as the people he loves are alright, he doesn't care about the price he has to pay. Zayne also has a strong sense of morality, the difference between him and Caleb is that he is (for the most part) uncompromising. Truly the only time he breaks his personal moral code is when things fall out of his realm of control, like when Dawnbreaker takes over. Outside of extenuating circumstances he keeps with his regimented morality, easier to keep himself in check this way. He didn't want to hurt anyone ever again Placing Rafayel on the spectrum of morality is difficult. He does horrible things to people who very much deserve it. He isn't a just killing people he's killing the people that organized the mass genocide of his people. The deaths that pile up belong to the ones that trafficked, murdered, and used his people so it feels wrong to pass moral judgement. That being said his methods border on cruel and inhumane, whether it's deserved or not isn't the point so he's towards of the immoral end of the spectrum Not at all shockingly the man who is a wanted criminal both in Linkon and across deepspace, leans more towards immoral. Sylus' morals center around his desires. Sometimes that means setting loose a planet of enslaved animals and allowing them to take their vengeance on their captors. Other time it's starting wars for resources or to undercut the power of someone who happened to get on his bad side. Xavier leans is more moral than most of them, save for Zayne of course. The reason for their difference being that Xavier's decisions are fixated around his goal. While overall he makes the better choice (seeking out alternative sources for Philos, preventing needless sacrifice protecting people from wanderers, etc.) there are times when the good choice is ignored in favor of the one that feels right. Arguably it would've been better to keep tabs on the Backtrackers than to let them wander off on their own at all, but they've all suffered enough so he made the call to let them live freely so long as they didn't give him reason to track them down. But he's consistently doing his best to make the right call, he's simply in a position where it's difficult to tell right from wrong. It's all so murky

building ikea versus watching, there's nothing that really needs to be elaborated on here. But please just sit with me and imagine this. Sylus and Caleb like working with their hands, assembling machinery is their shared love language. The others like to watch them work

The first time they assembled furniture together Zayne coming from work to see Caleb and Sylus assembling some complicated ass piece of furniture, while the rest of his spouses are perched on the nearby counter: do you want some help? Caleb looking up from the instructions with a big grin: welcome home Zaynie, don'tcha worry about us! We've got it under control Sylus: No need to doubt our skills, we're simply taking the scenic route. Besides... we can't risk you injuring these precious hands can we doc-tor? Zayne only being able to rapidly blink as Caleb uses his evol to place him on the kitchen counter and watch them get back to work: ??? Xavier leaning on Zayne's shoulder: welcome to the counter love Lyra sighing dreamily as she rests her head in her hands and watches them work: we should let them assemble furniture more often Rafayel: Shirtless next time, in the summer Lyra: please god yes Zayne: !?!?!? Xavier kissing his cheek: accept it

on the subject of children, they all want kids at some point but it's more of a vague desire rather than a plan. None of them are at a stable enough time in their personal or professional lives to even consider having a serious conversation about family planning, though that doesn't stop them from having conversations about their theoretical children or projecting any parental feelings onto the kids they already have

Lyra going to the shooting range with Luke and Kieran to keep their skills stay sharp and teach them gun safety: No, I know you guys know how to use your weapons very well... but I want just to make sure. Let's just go through it one more time okay? Then we can go play the claw machine I promise Caleb very affectionately cooing over Mephisto while he fixes a break in his one of his wings: you're doing such a good job buddy, you're real brave know that? If you keep being good I'll get ya something nice and shiny as a treat afterwards Zayne taking Luke and Kieran to get their shots, muttering over their incomplete medical record and mentally cursing everyone that's every hurt them: you'll likely experience some minor side effects after, it's not uncommon for people to get sick after being vaccinated. It's important to monitor your symptoms of course, but you'll be perfectly okay. I'll be monitoring your conditions personally to ensure that. Now where would you like to get lunch after your appointment?

Rafayel bringing Mephisto, Luke, and Kieran clothing shopping after seeing the woeful lack of colors in their wardrobe. Mephisto was dragged along on the insistence that he also deserved a nice charm or something similar. He made certain to rent out the entire store to allow the twins privacy and sits back and watches them gleefully try on various outfits, often asking his opinion on what suited them: take your time to learn what colors suit you best... not that though. That color doesn't suit any of you, it'd look horrible against Mephie's feathers. Try the darker one, much better Sylus spending hours painstakingly arranging the most precious room in his home. Not filled with weapons, protocores, or gems there was a plethora of places to keep those things. But the ones that truly mattered deserved their own safe spot. A room filled with all the gifts brought to him by Mephisto, Luke, Kieran, and his lovers. Rafayel's paintings line the walls alongside Xavier's old weapons framed, Caleb's various models and papercrafts neatly arranged on a shelf next to Zayne's ice creatures, Lyra's trinkets mingling with the ones the twins got him, and every gemstone from Mephisto shined in their case: perfect. Xavier makes a habit of introducing the twins to "old" videogames and teaching them how to play so they can team up to beat Sylus during their next family game night. Luke and Kieran take well to Mario Kart once they figure out how to use the wii controls: See that power up you just got? That's a blue shell, try it out

Lyra, Caleb, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier

Favorite Activity

Resonance was something that drained Lyra in any other situation, it was difficult to level with someone so perfectly that she could achieve resonance with them. But when they were all like this, woven and slotted into place like a complicated puzzle everything felt right. Like her soul was missing pieces and part but like this they were whole. One inextricably messy and complicated soul split amongst six people. And also having five husbands take care of you or vice versa is sexy as hell. Losing sense of herself in them and simply letting them take care of her, or taking control of them? There hasn't been a single thing in her life that's been able to beat that type of high Caleb just likes being told he's a good boy. Situation can immediately be improved by calling him a good boy. He wants to make sure he's doing a good job, especially early on in their relationship. He doesn't know what he's doing, not like the rest of them do, and he's just so eager to please. Whether he's topping or bottoming doesn't matter, could be having the nastiest angry sex and he'll melt like putty if any of them call him a good boy. Astra forbid they praise him while calling him a good boy, he's gone before they can even finish their sentence. It absolutely has everything to do with the fact that he's convinced his presence in their lives is for the worst and he's not worth the effort they expend on him. A consequence of the suffering he endured at the hands of the Gaia Researchers and the Fleet. His lovers are all too eager to prove that's wrong

Zayne is a brat tamer at heart and he has so many of them. His lovers make habit of getting on his nerves in so many different ways it's almost dizzying. From the mundane of teasing him while he's at work or recklessly endangering their lives. Stubborn and frustrating though they may be, they are his, he's grown used to their attitudes and refined methods of dealing with them. Sex was one of his personal favorite ways in which he managed to take control and expel his frustration. There was also something... intoxicating about these people who are so inhumanely powerful begging him for release and answering him with moaned apologies Lemurians are aquatic predators. Their bodies and senses are built around hunting and living within the ocean. While their sense are better than the average humans, even on land, they are especially heightened within the water. Being in the ocean makes many things better for Rafayel, sex being incredibly high on the list. More than just feeling everything more, he's at his element when in the water. The mask of being human slips away with the tides, what is left is the instinct not just of Lemurians but of the Sea God claiming his lovers. And it is more than addicting to have them willingly walk into the tumultuous ocean, trusting him to not only keep them safe from the waves but to keep them safe from himself

Sylus is willing to try almost anything his hoard recommends at least once. So long as they're all there, he'll be more than happy. Not to say that he doesn't have favored positions, situations, and so on but all of that came second when compared to having all of his lovers with. He's spent so fucking long gathering his hoard. Entire lifetimes spent apart or having each other only to be ripped away from them. Now there is nothing that makes him happier than simply having all of them near here. No matter the situation or circumstance, if they're there then it's good. Whether it be mundane, sexual, or death all of it is made better with their mere presence Xavier has lived longer than he ever should've and may yet live longer. He's had the chance to try and experience all sorts of things, both now and in the many lives that are tangled in his mind due to his travels in deepspace. So, it's with absolute certainty that he can say favorite thing is sleepy sex. They all have such busy lives, rarely able to make time for each other when the horrors of their lives overwhelm them. There simply isn't always time for all six of them to be together no matter how much they schedule or plan. But when they are collapsed in bed either after their days have ended or before they can begin? When they sleepily exchange kisses, locked hands, and nuzzling against each other as they undress... it's perfect. It's everything

Would you believe me if said I cut this short? I fully intended to rant about all of it but decided to limit myself to the ones I had the most to say about. That being said I can and will happily yap about anything related or unrelated to the chart so ask away

Template and Inspirations

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navydoves' post pearlescenthoney's post gegesbabysister's post

[confusedwritersounds]

Loving Selfishly

Summary: Lyra wonders if it's alright to be selfish... really truly selfish when it comes to her lovers. They have already given her so much... and she knows that there is more yet that she doesn't know. But she still wants to make one more selfish request of them Tags: mdni, sexual content (sorta?), aftercare, pillow talk, hurt comfort, angst, domestic fluff, conversations about immortality Pairing: Lyra (mc)/Zayne/Caleb/Sylus/Rafayel/Xavier aka polylads Notes: Preemptive apology to everyone trying to imagine what position they're all lying in, I should draw a guide or something Word Count: 1,518 Read on ao3

A home is at its most peaceful in the aftermath of a storm and just before one begins. Those brief periods where things simply are and everything feels right. The halls that are usually filled with the cacophony of their lives almost silent, when even the birds outside chirp softly just barely loud enough to be through the open windows. There are no phones calls or emails, no hunters' watches blaring warnings about a world ending catastrophe or pages from the hospital about emergencies that demanded immediate attention. Even the Farspace Fleet's vice grip held no power here, not today... not right now.

They bask in the moment, bodies woven together the same way their souls were. No telling where one of them began and the other ended, warms bodies unburdened by the weight of the world placed upon on them, only the weight of clinging lovers against sweat soaked skin and silk sheets. There were no words, simply basking in a moment stolen from fate knowing full well the sacrifices it took to be in this single moment...

They may still fail, Lyra realized as she stared at the ceiling. Letting out a soft sigh as she toyed with the morbid idea that maybe... maybe this wouldn't last. Some part of her deep down whispered that this was where the story ended. It always ended when they were finally together... when things are finally so beautiful. She didn't want to lose them; the heartbreak might kill her.

The rest of her, the hopeful part of her, relished in this moment and asserted that there would be many more of these moments to come... it only raised more question.

"You okay firefly?"

"I'm fine," she replied softly, doing her best to smile at Xavier even if the expression felt off... she didn't want any of them to worry about her. They so rarely got days like these, where their schedules aligned so perfectly that the six of them could spend time together. "I'm just sleepy."

"No, you're not, you haven't yawned once," he pointed out matter-of-factly, kneading the flesh of her inner thigh. "Talk to us."

If they hadn't been listening before they were listening now, she could feel the bed dip and shift with their movement. She didn't say a word as they reoriented themselves, relishing in the feeling of their bodies moving around her. Undeniably alive with their sweat soaked skin, little grunts and soft breathing. Even with all of their weight stacked on her body it didn't feel crushing, not a weight that suffocated her even if she was breathing shallower than she would if they weren't lying atop her. This was just a nice feeling.

To have them all here.

"We're all gonna die one day."

The words slipped out before she could stop herself.

It was nice to say it out loud even if the looks on their faces made her heart squeeze, a too familiar feeling that coated her insides. Nesting inside her faulty heart as if it was always meant to be there, a dark hole of grief instead of a warm beating heart.

Tension leaked into the air, breaths still and bodies rigid despite them being so content moments ago. Sylus had tightened his grip around her stomach, burying his face in her chest as if trying to physically burrow into her chest. On her right Zayne pulled her and Rafayel closer to him, squeezing their arms with more force than necessary while Caleb clung onto Xavier. Weaving his arms through the tangle of bodies to touch her...

"I don't want to die that's not what I'm saying," she promised, voice cracking at the look of pure devastation painted on Rafayel's face. "I don't plan on any of us dying any time soon. We have a family."

"What are you saying?" Caleb asked accusingly, choked up as he pressed his body closer, further compressing the pile they had tangled themselves into. "What's got you all sad pips?"

"You can't call me pips when we're naked, we talked about this," she attempted to joke, her voice falling flat when he didn't so much as budge. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" Zayne answered for them, pressing his face to her neck. "Tell us what's bothering you."

"I'm really not bothered. I love our life."

It took so much work to have found this life, to make this peace into her home. Her devoted and adoring husbands that looked so thoroughly hurt that she was even considering the possibility of dying... It was only natural to wonder about it. Given their circumstances, any of them could die... she'd never let it happen. She would keep them from all harm so long as they stayed beside her... even if they didn't, she would keep them safe. But it was hard not to think about the possibility of death...

If not now then later.

When they are old and grey and have lived a long fulfilling life. With children and maybe grandchildren that they spoiled...

"Cutie—"

"You're not going to grow old are you?" She asked suddenly, tears misting over her eyes before she could even register the growing weight of sorrow. "You and Xavier and Sylus... you're not going to grow old like us, are you? You're different. You're not human. We're going to get old and wrinkly and you'll be young, won't you?"

She didn't hear what they said, if they said anything at all given how little chance she gave them to answer. But the moment the thought occurred to her, she couldn't let it go. Worse than the idea of inevitable death was the realization they may not all meet death together. That her, Zayne, and Caleb would age while Rafayel, Sylus, and Xavier remained perpetually young. She never thought to ask or wonder how long Lemurians or dragons live. The assumption had always been that they would all die together, whether that was tomorrow or a hundred years from now didn't matter. They were meant to greet death together, the six of them hand in hand ready to face the next journey together. Not for the first time if the longing in their eyes and the way they cradled her head and worried over her heart gave any clue. If the dreams that tormented her day after day were to be trusted... this would not be her first time dying. But she didn't think... she didn't want to think what it would be like for them all to die one by one...

What if Xavier outlived them all?

He looked so painfully young still... even after two hundred years as far as she knew. Not a drip of time had kissed his skin or creased his brow. There weren't any smile lines on his face and she wondered with anguish if she would ever see the physical evidence of the life they lived together on him.

And worse... something horrible and ugly whispered in her mind... all she wanted was to be the first to die among their group.

If they had to go slowly, picked off by one whether by age or something worse, she wanted to be the one to die first.

It was selfish.

But she couldn't bear to live in a world without them.

Not even for a second.

She wasn't strong enough.

Her chest rose and fell in panicked hiccups, choking down sobs as she curled up in their hold. Distantly she could feel them around her, warm and alive and so far from this future she had scared herself with. it was so far away from her, a life she may never know if EVER got their way or the world came to a cataclysmic end. But it didn't stop the worry from eating at her heart, the guilt of her selfish desire from worming into her mind relentlessly.

"Sweetie, it's okay."

Sylus' voice cut through her panic, the deep red of aether core humming softly as it reached out to her. Her heart slowed, nerves easing, and panic ebbing as she tried to fall into the pace his aether core set.

"You can be selfish. We'll be okay."

It was a lie, half a lie at least.

She would never be whole without all of them, she would survive and she would love the rest of them while they are her. But she has learned firsthand that she would never feel right. Losing Caleb and learning to love without him in her life... he had haunted her. Every word and touch whispered that she had lost something that she would never get back. And she knows deep down they would feel the same if any of them were to die.

"I'm sorry."

She meant it about so many things.

About ruining their day off and their post sex cuddling. About the snot and tear she must've smeared on their skin when they comforted. About spoiling the mood that they had carefully constructed, a peace they had carved out now filled with this...

Most of all she is sorry she asked this of them.