Notes: Poly lads group chat. MC plays a new game, the boys are curious, MC gets very bullied. Good partners want to know what their partners are into 😌 I was about to sleep but this idea wouldn't leave me alone. So have at ye.
I think I just gotta start writing the thing, so I'm gonna try to write a bit a day and we'll see how it goes:
Alice wakes up and looks out the window, and... That's weird, it's so much emptier.
Where's the port town facing the sea with their little red roofs and white walls that she can usually see in the distance?
Where are the smoking chimneys of big cargo boats out in the port, made small by the distance?
Where are the cranes, seemingly still ever time she looks, but somehow always hard at work, loading and unloading?
Where is the touch of modernisation?
Out in the distance, all she sees are trees that should not be there and rolling green hills with no roads with people and cars and trucks cutting through them, ever busy.
She opens the window, and the breeze blows in, but it's crisper, fresher, not carrying the smoky tang of vehicles and boats alike, something she never thought of, never noticed until now.
It's quieter too.
There isn't the sound of people and cars and boats in the distance, only the call of birds and the rustling of leaves, so much closer than before.
BANG!
The door startles her and she turns to see Marcus there, panting, anxious, his mouth gaping open, mouthing words he cannot find or voice.
She knows before he speaks what he's going to say.
Inspired by thinking about how cold Raffy's preferred baths must be as a Lemurian.
Featuring all lads (inc Caleb) and main MC.
Masterlist
Rafayel prefers baths, he'll shower if he's in a rush, but he'll mostly want to bathe. This normally involves him spending hours just lying in the bath (Sylus has made a lot of jokes about stewed fish).
Prefers his water ice cold, as a deep sea fishy it's most familiar and while he can use hot water it's not as comforting, and he'll normally only do that if he's sharing the bath or shower with someone else and doesn't want them catching hypothermia.
Has the greatest supply of bathing accessories and products you'll ever see in your life. Anything that's ethically created or not harmful to the environment.
Is still unsure on bath bombs, on one hand, very fun, on the other hand, he likes being submerged in the water and he CAN keep his eyes open and often does. Yes he's gotten the bath bomb stuff in his eyes cause he forgot, yes he complained for hours after and got spoiled to high heaven for it.
Is mostly likely to bathe with Sylus at normal temperature for him (ice cold) cause Sylus is unbothered by temperature changes, so does not require the added heat for it to be bearable. If the temperature of the bath is adjusted, he'll often bathe with MC or with Xavier (who uses it as an excuse to have a nap, because Raffy won't let him drown and he's terrible at bathing alone.)
Always smells delightful after his routines, and they take a while.
Zayne is typically a shower guy, because he's a busy man but cares about looking presentable a lot. His routine is next level organised. Showers are pretty average temperature, but do run a bit hotter especially after using his EVOL.
While he has been known to have a bath, he's more likely to do it with someone else, or if someone has forced him to take it slow and pamper himself or is doing the pampering for him.
Kind of a get in and get out, he has products he likes to use and sticks with those, unless another one is suggested to him and he takes a liking to it. Will take longer showers if he's sharing the shower with someone else, in that case he enjoys taking care of them, and it takes quite a while before he gets used to anyone else doing it for him.
He shares the shower most with Sylus out of anyone (though frankly Sylus showers the most out of everyone so he'll happily hop in with anyone), close second are Caleb and MC. Both of whom he will nudge so he can take care of them, old age childhood friend worries. They do return the favour.
Jasmine shampoo and citrus body wash is the way to go for this man, citrus shaving cream too. Smells like a dessert, though tends to tone it down for when he's working at the hospital cause there's enough strong scents around his patients.
Xavier cannot be left alone to bathe, more than once someone has checked on him in the bath and he's fallen asleep and has almost drowned. Now if he bathes they set timers, or someone will bathe with him. It's not his fault, poor man is exhausted and worn down between how often he spends hunting and his connection to a dying planet.
He's most likely to shower and similar to Zayne he gets in and gets out, but he's also raised a prince, he knows how to self care and groom himself so he always looks good and presentable. He is very fond of baths more than he is of showers, because of this he will bathe with Raffy often. Depending on how he's feeling someone will join him in the shower and help him take care of himself. Especially after a nightly stint as Lumiere.
Water temperature is pretty normal, fairly hot but not that hot. Because of this he's easy to share a shower with.
Prewarning if you wash his hair he will fall asleep even quicker, or get frisky.
He likes really simple scents, things that aren't too powerful just incase it messes with his work. Tends to go with soft florals, it's like lying in a field of flowers, but you can only really smell it up close. (Raffy, Sylus and MC have all buried their nose in his neck before now, and just fallen asleep there.)
Caleb is a busy man so in the farspace fleet, showers are quick, like incredibly quick and whatever he has time for he'll do. Due to this he's prefers bathing when he's not at work, more time, more space to relax (more likely to be able to have MC wrapped up in his arms in the warm water), and just generally a luxury he doesn't really get time for often. He'll still shower when he's in somewhat of a rush to do something, like if he has a date with any of the polycule and he's running a bit late, or just wants to be done quickly cause he's excited.
He's used to cold showers... for several reasons, but also because MC had a bad habit of losing track of time in the shower when they were younger, and used up all the hot water more than once. That said he's chill with cold showers (badum tsh) but he's actually good with any kind of temperature (farspace training means you get used to all kinds of situations, as does DAA training). If it's super hot, the pain of the heat makes his sensory feedback respond better, so he has joined Sylus and MC for the 'I'm scalding my skin off with boiling water' showers, just to get to touch them to his hearts content. (Pre-cybernetic fixing anyway)
Showers most with MC, Sylus and Zayne, bathes most with MC and Xavier.
For work all his stuff is non-scented, at home he'll use whatever he knows MC likes most, he has however tried chocolate-smelling stuff, but they're very hit or miss, also likes fruit smells, strawberry is a favourite.
Sylus loves showering, he will spend such a long time in them, not as long as Raffy spends in the bath, but it's real close. (You best believe he's spending a fortune on heating water in the polycules house, this man does not care.) Temperature is 'burn your skin off' hot, he's a dragon, while he's not bothered by temperature in general, the hotter it is the better. The amount of steam in the shower room after is frankly suffocating.
Has the second biggest collection of skin care and body care products, all his stuff is expensive, but he'll make sure everyone's favourite stuff is stocked regardless. (Very obsessed however with other people wearing his scents, and visa versa) This man luxuriates, his stuff smells like you'd expect a rich man to smell. Woody, spicy and earthy smells. Like you've walked into a fancy boutique, it is pleasant though. He's never overpowering (what happens when you've got an autistic partner), but he does like to smell nice so he can wrap his partners up in the smell by contact.
Enjoys sharing showers with everyone, will happily bathe with others too but prefers his showers, partially cause he's used to needing to be prepared but also because he just enjoys them. He does get handsy, like a lot, but it's not (always) sexually driven, he's just a very big fan of pampering others, and enjoys touching his partners.
Any shower with Sylus will take longer than you planned. (And he wants to have his hair dried and brushed after.)
MC is similar to Sylus for temperature, but not QUITE as hot, will still leave their skin raw though, and will also spend a fair bit of time in there. Doesn't really actively go out of their way to bathe, but will if someone wants them to join them (ill advised to let them and Xavier bathe together, both fall asleep). Also rarely shares showers with others, unless requested or they really need help cleaning up (or are feeling the need for physical comfort and care).
They prefer to just clean up, zone out for twenty to thirty minutes, and then leave, the routine is important, and is a destress method. Has a stool for the shower too, because taking a prosthetic in there is very ill advised and cleaning yourself one handed can be a real pain in the ass. Much easier for them to sit down sometimes.
Doesn't like strong smelling stuff, but does love tropical scents (coconut, pineapple, mango, passion fruit stuff, as long as it's not too artificial) but will otherwise happily use anyone else's stuff, because it's all been stress tested. (And sometimes they just wanna smell like their partners more)
If they do share a shower, they wanna give as much as they take, but all the guys absolutely have to bend down (or sit on the stool) to let them shampoo hair, they used to stand on the stool to do it. They slipped once, it made Zayne so stressed he put a no standing on the stool rule because they're too clumsy.
Has the most basic care routine because they're terrible at taking care of themselves and only really have started since realising HOW bad they were with the polycule. Is slowly adding self care routines as they find ones the like.
Poly!LADs headcanons - because I'm a disaster human and they live rent free in my head.
Home Edition
Also includes the main mc I write with headcanons??? Canons????
Masterlist
Zayne is very clean, he tidies up as soon as he sees mess. Can't leave it for a second. (He also simply doesn't think to say to someone 'hey can you clean up x', he'll just go 'well I'm here' and tidy.)
Xavi will tidy but he'll normally have a set time in mind to do it, aka 'I'll do this in 10 minutes' except he means it. Which sometimes means Zayne gets to it quicker.
Raffy will fully forget the concept of tidying, everything becomes like his art studio. Will sometimes do 'I'll do this in 10 minutes' doesn't mean it.
Sylus is generally very tidy, will clean as he does anything, part of his 'leave nothing out as a weakness, remove traces of yourself as you move' energy, but it does make him easy to live with in regards to cleanliness.
MC is not tidy, they're chaotic and often forget where things are. They try to help manage the mess but often simply forget in the chaos of doing something. They just need a lil nudge and they'll go into cleaning mode and fix all the mess.
They all have jobs that tend to be 'theirs' though it's fluid depending on time restraints and current projects or life situations.
Raffy/Xavi are best at doing the grocery shopping. They're least bothered by crowded or loud places, and least likely to buy every sweet in the place. Raffy does do impulse purchases, but they generally take lists.
Xavier also takes care of the plants and the garden in the house. (Everyone likes checking in on the garden though.)
Sylus/Raffy are the best at cooking. Sylus cooks primarily as long as he has the time (tries to make it as much as he can), and Raffy cooks the best fish you'll ever eat in your life.
They will sometimes also supervise Xavier's cooking but with him it's a two man job of not letting the kitchen burn down. (Sylus doesn't want to replace another kitchen.)
Zayne is king of tidying, he doesn't do it all himself, and everyone tries to make sure they pick up their weight esp when he's very busy, but the man has systems upon systems.
MC does a bit of everything, they're not as patient with cooking, but enjoy baking a lot. Primarily they help stay on top of laundry, dishes and are co-captain to Zayne's cleaning frenzies.
They all have their at least one of their own specific rooms in the house, either specialised for their work, or just a specific place for them to destress if they want alone time.
Zayne: has his office.
Raffy: has an art room, he also kept his studio for anything he's keeping secret from the others (an art project) or for bigger pieces that he needs more space than the house can provide.
Sylus: has a music room, it's decorated with records and various instruments. Of course he keeps all his bases, home is home, work is work.
Xavier: he set up a planetarium in a nap room, just incase he gets home really late and needs to sleep but is worried about disturbing someone.
MC: has a room decked out in just every single collectible they've ever hoarded ever.
Raffy technically has the most 'normal' sleep schedule, awake in the day, asleep at night, except he also doesn't sleep when he's working on a painting, so it often goes out of the window.
Zayne has a sleep schedule which is normally he's awake in the day, asleep at night, but he's also a doctor so he works whenever he needs to, and this can often mean night shifts, very long shifts with on call sleep room visits, or simply his normal nightmare-based insomnia.
Sylus is awake at night and asleep during the day mostly, has a fairly reliable schedule in terms of active time, but he's a busy man who does a lot of work travel. So might not be at home very often because of that. While he pretty much sleeps exclusively in the day, if he's around and someone really wants company, he's happy to join them in bed. He's also always willing to be out in the day if someone asks for his presence for something.
Xavier sleeps whenever he's tired, he's a working hunter which means he's awake when he's needed for a mission, and he works at night as Lumiere, so he has absolutely zero schedule. He and Sylus are normally the ones who take naps together because of this.
MC's life schedule is very reliable, they work in the day or whenever they have a mission, but primarily they sleep at night. That said they have insomnia and they also suffer from frequent nightmares due to their history, because of this, they will take naps when they can, and will often be awake until the early hours of the morning unable to sleep properly.
Notes: Poly lads group chat, just something small inspired by a true story, and my worries about Zayne's dental health. So happy holidays! SMAU BE UPON YE!
Warnings: Very Drunk MC, Sylus Myth Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort
Word Count: 2787
Written: 4th March 2025
Notes: Pre-relationship, with Sylus and the main MC I write for. Just the Poly Chapter to go. You know when you're writing and it doesn't go where you meant for it to go? Every damn day.
Also incase anyone was wondering, the song playing over my head while MC was dancing was I Adore You by HUGEL.
Masterlist
AO3
<- Caleb <-Zayne <-Xavier <- Rafayel Poly!LADs ->
Sylus hasn't long been awake, sitting at his base, working through his tablet, as the twins play a game nearby.
You'd given them your handheld to borrow, incessant that they're careful with it, and return it when they'd finished trying it out. He'd made a note to buy them one, especially when he saw them getting overly boisterous with it.
Of all the expressions on your face he wanted to see, downtrodden and heartbroken over something you treasured, was not one of them.
"Boss-man, have you heard from your hunter?"
"We wanted to ask them for new games!"
He finds himself rubbing between his eyes, sitting up in his chair, and reaching for his drink, before his hand stops. He does not hear from you frequently, if you're not worrying about what he might be up to, but he has sent you messages and received nothing in response. It is not too unusual for a short amount of time, missions take you far afield. He watches through Mephisto's eyes often, to figure out what you're up to.
To make sure you're as safe as can be with your work.
Just in case. Just in case you need his help.
He tries not to step on your toes, to involve himself where you will chafe. You're capable, strong, and driven.
He thinks about your rage and fire as you pressed a gun to his chest, snarling in his face, spittle flying.
Reckless.
The itch in his chest awakens, the sense of aggravation that he does not know. That he has no eyes on you. The image of his beloved being lost, hurt, where he cannot reach…
He lifts his phone again, opening his messages and seeks out the string of unanswered messages.
He doubts he will get much more, and if he does not, Mephisto will find you. If Mephisto cannot, he will. He has scoured planets for you, exploring Linkon and beyond is easy.
🐦⬛: Has my kitten lost their tongue? Or have they gotten trapped in a box, and need rescuing?
The twins look at him, then at each other, shrug and resume their game, but he can feel their focus is on him. Can feel them peeking out the side of their eyes.
He tries to ignore it, after all, he's fine. You've always been difficult.
He often finds it amusing.
Even if his phone finally going off again, comforts him.
🐈: Did you need my help for a job?
A job? He's unsure where you reached that assessment, but you've finally responded, and so he calls you.
It rings, and rings, and rings.
Then goes quiet. He feels himself frowning down at the thing.
🐈: Is everything ok?
🐦⬛: Pick up.
🐈: Sylus??
He doesn't respond, this time he calls again, waits. And waits. You leave it till the last ring before you answer.
The first thing he gets, is noise. Music, loud and irritating, because he can't hear you.
There's scuffling, and then it quiets down somewhat, and he can finally hear you, breathing heavily on the other end, "Sylus? What do you want?"
"I wanted to talk to you kitten, it's been too long since I've heard your voice. I worried you'd forget what I sound like."
"Why would I-" You sigh, "Did you need my help with a job? It must be urgent if you're calling me."
"I have not brought up a job, why do you keep asking?"
"Why else would you call me?" He hears a weak laugh, soft, and sad, and his heart drops.
He's told you many times he calls you because he likes to hear your voice, after all, he would not spend as much time with you if he did not enjoy being around you. That he seeks you out in every corner of the world, yearns for your voice in every moment.
How many times must he play the damned claw machine with you, sit in the kitty card cafe while you grandiose your victories, or lend his strength to you in combat, if he did not care?
"I can simply want to talk with you kitten." He attempts, but you scoff. Actually scoff at him, and he hears it, the slur in your words. "Where are you?"
"If you don't need my help, I gotta go." He tries to speak, but you cut the call. This time when he sends you a message, chasing you up, he gets nothing else.
When he calls, this time it rings once and goes to voicemail.
There's a feeling in his stomach, like if he does not find you, you'll vanish. It is a feeling with no basis, but it burns and bites nonetheless. It brings him to his feet, and he determines to find you.
There's few places in Linkon he knows you hide, you are not at home, which narrows the places down considerably, as your usual haunts are not open at night. The noise in the back of your call, had at least made the job easier. Between himself, and Mephisto, he finally finds his way to a bar where he spots the flash of white hair.
Seeing it in the distance, always makes his chest tighten, and his half heart feel fragile.
Pushing his way through crowds, it is a vision that greets him. If he were more inclined to romanticism without realism, he could almost imagine the music dimming.
You hold a glass aloft in the air, eyes closed, as you dance freely amongst other humans. Hips sway, singing aloud to music you can barely be heard over, sweat drenching your skin. Droplets run down the expanse of your throat as you tip back your head, gets caught in the fabric of your shirt, and he watches another one down your bared stomach, soaking into the fabric of your shorts.
Sylus has been parched for centuries, lost in a desert, and now stares at an oasis. How you cannot see his greed, his desire, his clawing need, he will never know.
He is not a subtle man in this.
In all his time spent with you, he has never seen you like this. Carefree, the weight of the world fallen from your shoulders, all the grief out of your hands, as you dance, and sing, as loudly as you can. Surrounded by other humans, who do not know they dance with his beloved.
A stranger's hand is placed on your hip, you do not seem to notice, caught up in the music, and there is a moment where Sylus watches, where he is unsure whether he wants to be seen by you.
Every expression he gains from you, is worn and aching. You have come into this world different, fragile and sore. Biting at the bit for a monster to fight, and he hurts to think he might be that monster. That he has no cause to assure you that he isn't.
He did not steal the person you trusted most from you, but he is not innocent. He is not good.
He cannot wash the blood off of his hands yet.
There are others whose hands aren't scarred and sullied, that have never been claws to hurt you. A small part of his soul, wonders if turning around and leaving you to be amongst those less sculpted to be violent beasts, would be better. Stronger suited to your warm heart.
Until he feels your soul in his chest again. Under the blissful, drunk, expression on your face. It aches, mourns, misses, and hurts.
Lonely…
It hurts to hear it so loudly. You are so, so lonely, even surrounded by people. No matter that you have sought out a crowd as big as you could, that you have drowned sorrows to the point of spilling, that you silenced the voices as best you could.
You still cannot escape it.
He hears it, he hears you.
He cannot leave you alone.
His feet bring him to you, a hand reaching out to steady you as you stumble forward a little, preventing the glass in your hand from falling. It splashes on his jacket, and he watches as you open your eyes, ready to apologise, before the sight of him stops you.
Your eyes widen, mismatched and sparkling. Jewels.
His treasure.
"Sy?" The nickname slips out of your mouth, and he feels it down his spine, familiarity and warmth. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you, kitten." He leans in so that he can hear you properly, the song of your voice against his cheek as he speaks against your own. Nose against your skin. There's a moment where his hunger spikes, and he wants to flick his tongue against the sweat on your skin, before he remembers where he is. Remembers you're drunk. He fights it back.
Parched.
If this is how humans feel with their desires, no wonder they are driven to madness.
"I…" You blink at him, doe-eyed and soft, stunned. He watches and he waits, for you to figure out what to say. "Hi." Is all he gets, but it's exhaled, and he watches the small quirk of your lips. The softening of your eyes. "Dance with me?"
He can only assume the liquid confidence contributes to the way you down your drink, he takes the empty glass and floats it somewhere away from you, before you extend your hand. In all the time he has adored you, he has never been offered a dance from you. He has hinted, he has desired, he has asked.
You have never asked him. Every invitation is his to extend, seeking you out while you pull away from him, like you're scared. Yet he's not sure what of. You don't seem scared of him, challenging him whenever you find him disagreeable. You are a puzzle he has not finished piecing together.
He wonders if he ever will.
He must stare at your hand too long, because you tilt your head, "I thought you liked dancing?"
"I do."
"So? You don't want to dance with me?" It's said softly, with pain sneaking its way into your voice, and he has to stop himself from reaching out to you.
He doesn't know how to dance here, looking about him at people who do not follow steps he knows. That he has learned, for you. He knows how to dance in a ballroom, how to follow moves that are structured, because he has learned them. This follows a rhythm, and he cannot always hear it.
It's almost like fear… if you find him lacking, when you have finally sought him out.
"Sy-" The warmth in his chest, in his spine, in his soul. Sy. Sy. Sy. It is not a pet name, but it is familiar. It is said softly. So very softly. You take his hand, pulling him forwards. He stumbles only because he would let you lead him anywhere, and because he is too distracted by the warmth of you against his skin. Your hand moves over the front of his shirt, up to his neck, and you poke him, "Just have fun. That's all that matters."
An easy ask, when you're involved.
He is not a patient man, he thinks, but for you, he is. He will always have enough patience, enough joy, enough love for you. If only you would see it.
There are few times he loses track of time, used to a busy schedule, and a need to solve issues as soon as they arise. He does not know how long he spends with you in a bar he has no interest in, surrounded by people he cares little for, because he spends it with you in his arms. Unconcerned with the world, your scent wrapped around him, your skin against his, and your voice in his ears.
When you're finally worn out, and ready to leave, he is reluctant to lose the heat of you. Waiting for the moment he steps out of the bar, for you to pull away. Hold him at arm's length. Look at him with that gaze he cannot decipher.
He keeps his hand in yours as you leave, walking the distance to your apartment. Unwilling to leave you alone, or drive back when he feels drunk off you. The cherry wine of your soul is strong and delectable. He thanks his soul, and yours, that he is better at controlling himself than he feels.
You wobble a little as the two of you walk, keeping yourself upright using his arm, and though he offers to carry you, you shake your head. Laughing to yourself as you take careful steps, like a newborn deer.
It is minutes into the walk, along the quieter streets, that you finally speak, looking over at him, "So why did you really come?"
"I told you kitten, I wanted to see you."
You bite down on your lip, and he tugs you to a stop, to ease it from between your teeth with his thumb. Staring down at you as you look up at him. Eyes soft, wet. Hunger and desire.
He is a better dragon than a beast, he assures himself.
"No job?"
"I hardly feel you'd be useful in a fight right now, kitten."
It is the wrong thing to say, Sylus realises as you flinch, frowning, "Right, of course."
"Why do you think I need your assistance?"
"It's the only time we talk. A job, help, because you want to negotiate… or-" You bite your lip again, and he strokes over your bottom lip with his thumb this time, placing the tip of it on the fat, holding it there. If you want to bite yourself, you'll have to bite through him.
"We can talk whenever you like." He speaks, and he hopes he conveys it better. Warm, and full of the adoration he feels. His appearance can be useful, can be a curse, and when he fears you do not see past sharp eyes and features, the worst thing he can think of.
He just wants you to hear his voice, and his words.
"Whenever?" You ask, "What if I say all the time?"
"I'll answer whenever I can."
"Except when you're being a big bad crime boss?"
Sylus laughs, moving his hand to your cheek, pinching it gently, "Even then, sometimes."
He watches, and waits, as the fear eases out of your expression, as you soften again. As your soul in his chest, so very noisy, settles and eases back to wrap around his. A slumbering dragon that matches his own.
"It won't bother you?"
There's a sigh he has to bite back, because he remembers you angry and full of fire, and broken. He remembers that amidst all the strength is a soul that has been twisted against its will. He takes your face in his hands, tilting your head up to look directly into his eyes, and smoothes his thumb over your cheeks, "You are worth the time, kitten. Worth the work. Worth it all. You could never bother me, in any way I do not want. Do you understand?"
He watches the tears well, and then be fought back down, but he leans down anyway, presses a kiss to just above your eye, where you had kissed lifetimes ago. You may not remember, but he can only follow what you taught him of love. Even if it will take a while before you believe it of him.
"I understand." You nod, hand tightening on his shirt, crinkling the fabric between your fingers. "Then… come to the cafe with me tomorrow?"
He sees you step over the chasm, the flames in your mismatched gaze as you watch him carefully, fingers shaking against his chest. Like you're waiting for him to laugh, or pull away. Instead he presses your hand further against his chest, so you can feel it. The unsteady dance of your hearts, and chuckles. "Planning to lose a card game to me, my little kitten? Sounds like a plan."
You pout, sticking your tongue out at him, and then laugh. The same carefree warmth he felt when he watched you dance, except this one is shared with him, and he feels sick with the satisfaction of it.
He'll message you tomorrow, to remind you of what you promised, and as he drops you off at your apartment, stunned when you return a kiss to his cheek before rushing away from him…
Well, he'll remind you over and over if he must.
He'll move mountains so he can comfort your lonely soul, and remind it of steady warmth and unrestricted love.
Notes: Established-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me.
I... genuinely got a bit too emotional working on this. Anyway, I finally finished it. I'll be honest, it's very funny being autistic aro-ace and writing for an otome game, literally zero parts of me have a comprehension of romance. ANYWAY, Enjoy! Also if you want to know what I imagined the boys drinking, obvs Sy was his good ol' Gin Fizz, Caleb was a Sour Apple Martini, Xavi got a Starfruit Paloma, Zayne got a Bailey's Chocolate Liqueur, Raffy got a Sea Breeze.
Now Playing: To the Wilder, by Woodkid
Masterlist
AO3
<- Caleb <-Zayne <-Xavier <- Rafayel <- Sylus
You're running late, dodging people on the pavement, when you get the call. It's one of those moments you really envy Xavier's ability to teleport, late after a meeting with Captain Jenna.
"Hey- Shit, sorry!" You speak to someone you almost barge straight into, there's noise on the other end of the call, but you can't stop to speak, rushing and rushing. "I'll be there soon, the report took longer than expected."
"Cuuuutie, you've abandoned us!"
"Fish, give me the phone."
"Rafayel, did you down that drink? We haven't eaten yet."
You feel the laughter bubbling in your chest, as Raffy, Sy and Caleb argue on the other end. You hear scuffling, and someone shushes them, as another voice rings out. "Darling, take your time, we can wait. I would rather not get called out because you got injured trying to race to us."
"I'll- Sorry sorry- be careful Zayne, promise."
"What I'm hearing does not fill me with confidence."
"Fish, don't drink anymore until we have food."
"I'll be there soon!" You have the image of a bright red Raffy, sprawled out over a restaurant table, and force yourself to run faster.
A month long mission, dragging out for longer than you had ever wanted, in which you hadn't been able to see your partners. Calling them, and messaging them on the few small moments of freedom, but otherwise you had been too busy. Arriving back in Linkon had filled you with the kind of impatient joy that you normally had waiting for an event planned months in advance, or a parcel you'd ordered moons ago. Except more intense.
It wasn't the same hearing their voices, when you had grown so used to living with them. Seeing them, touching them, having the comfort of them when nightmares shocked you awake.
Waking up to a cold empty hotel bed, and having to drag yourself out of your bed for coffee. Cold floors and quiet room. You were sure you'd been so fiercely independent before, or perhaps just better at ignoring the ache of loneliness when there was no one around you could trust to rely on.
Especially when you'd thought you'd lost Caleb for good.
You think about waking up one morning during the long month, aching after a bad fight with a wanderer, still too far away from the people you care about. The pain in your back, stinging, the ache in your residual limp a reminder of how hard you'd been pushing, just to get home quicker.
Then your phone had vibrated, throwing itself off from where you'd haphazardly placed it on the side table. As you retrieved it from the floor, messages outstanding.
🐦⬛ pretty bird 🐦⬛: Try not to miss us too much, Kitten, and make sure you let us know if you need anything.
🐠 cute fishie 🐠: cutie! cutie! look at this crab it's almost as cute as you. come home soon.
⛄️ sweet snowman ⛄️: Remember to take your medication, I want you returning to us healthy.
⭐️ little star ⭐️: Sorry I couldn't keep U company on this mission, Starlight. Make sure UR careful.
🍎 partner in crime 🍎: pipsqueak i got a new recipe to try when you get back. make sure you get back safe alright?
A reminder that unlike all those times before, waiting in the darkness when the world tried to press down on your chest, that you had something to return home to.
It's still a great relief to be home, as you see the restaurant doors, and the promise of family on the other side. You push the doors open none too gently, wincing yourself as you hear them swing open, and feel eyes focus on you. Cheeks suddenly far warmer than you'd like, and pulling at your one bracer with your metal hand. Twisting the elastic as you apologise to a waiter, and find your way to your partners.
They sit around a table, chatting and drinking, and when they feel you approach, you face the full force of five people you love with your whole heart, happy to see you again. Taking hands to join them at a homecoming.
Dinner passes, sating the fact you have not settled properly in weeks, and drinks flow. Rafayel sobered up at some point while eating, only to join you in trying cocktails, picking them out for each other as you tasted ones you've never had before. You try to shush him as he grabs your hand and pulls you into his lap to sing at you when a familiar song comes on over the restaurant speakers. Only for Sylus to assure you that he'd rented the place out, and no one would have an issue if you chose to dance on the table.
Which got you a particular worried look from Caleb, who you know had seen you get that level of drunk more than once growing up. Though Sylus had seemed smug, almost daring you to do so, as he'd pushed another glass into your hands.
When you'd joined Zayne, he had begun to talk to Caleb and Xavier about long term illnesses that could arise from extended space-travel, a topic you can't believe he's touching on while his cheeks redden further thanks to the chocolate baileys he's drinking. His hand grabs your hip, pulling you down into his lap, chin resting on your shoulder, to peer over at Xavier who is recalling details from his own travels. It is hard to focus much on the conversation, when he stops talking and begins pressing kisses into the back of your neck, causing you to squirm in his lap.
His chuckle is low and soft, fingers drifting under the fabric of your shirt, and you grasp his hand to entwine your fingers. Cold metal against his cool ice familiar skin, "You've gotten drunk Zaynie."
"With the safety of those I love, I believe I'm allowed to be so." You can't even begin to fight the smile that crooks your scarred face. You can feel the scar tugging a little as you focus your eyes on him, on the starry eyes and the red cheeks. Your other hand reaching behind you to brush fingertips over his face, the heat of his drunken bliss. It is a grounding feeling to touch him, in the same way as when he seeks out your hand to squeeze for a reprieve when his busy brain runs too fast.
"The snowman's melted again." Xavier speaks, drinking a tall spiralled glass of Star Paloma, though his starfruit has been stolen by Caleb who is chewing it alongside a wedge of lemon.
"He's happy!" Raffy calls from the side, reaching over to grab a handful of strawberries from the centre of the table. "You're eating lemons again, apple pie."
"I like sour food, maybe that's why I like you, fishie."
Another chuckle behind you and to your side as Sylus rejoins you at the table, with another tray of snacks. He slides into the seat next to Zayne, tugging you over a little so you're stuck sitting awkwardly on them both. It cannot be said to be comfortable, until an arm wraps around your middle and pulls you back, "You should eat some more, I doubt you were taking care of yourself on that mission of yours."
"Watching me with Mephisto again?" You tease, no heat in it, you hadn't spotted the familiar crow, but there was little irritation in knowing Sylus worried for you, and wanted to see you, even if it was just through his crow's eyes.
"I just know you far too well, Kitten."
It's a safe bet, you think, terrible at remembering to get things done when you're done with a day of fighting, just wanting to crawl into bed. So you try to reach out to grab some strawberries too, only for two arms to keep you restricted. Zayne makes an unhappy noise behind you as you move, and Sylus chuckles at his new found game, like a cat with a toy as you wriggle. Extending your hand out as far as it goes.
Sometimes you forget how strong they are, Zayne who rarely shows his physical strength, and Sylus who constantly holds it back, only to be reminded when they're feeling particularly clingy. Or when you desperately need the toilet during bed, and neither wish to relinquish their slumber.
"Caleeeeb." You call, making grabby hands at the plate you can see but can't reach. Trying to fight down the smile that wants to escape as you feel the rumble in chests against your back.
He looks over from where he is stirring a drink for Rafayel, and laughs, "Did you get caught in a fiery blizzard there, Pipsqueak?"
"I'm starving, and thirsty, and I can't get back to base camp, help!"
"Oh no, rescue is on its way." He waves his finger casually in the air, floating the plate over into your hands, so you can fall back against your personal limpets, and shove some fruit into your mouth. Dripping strawberry juice down your metal arm.
"Be careful." Xavier extends a tissue to you, only for Zayne to take it, so he can clean the mess up with hands far more carefully than you'd expect when someone gets drunk. Surgeon's hands through and through, you suppose. Even when inebriated, he cannot help but be a careful carer.
"Messy Kitten." Is spoken into the side of your head, as a hand brushes against your mouth as you eat. "Whatever would you do without us?"
You make to bite his finger, only for him to flick your forehead with a laugh, "I'm very capable." You sniff, turning your head away in a false huff, as he nods, some of the humour leaving him as his eyes turn molten. Watching you with pride.
You feel your chest turn just as warm, that familiar small flame that is nursed everyday by affections, blossoming like a flower.
"I know."
"But you need us toooooo, right Cutieee?" Rafayel moves over, sitting on the table now, kicking his feet out so he can lay them over yours and Sylus' lap. He knocks a couple of glasses over, thankfully they're caught by Caleb and Xavier's fast reflexes.
Having them watch you, despite the time it's been, the fact that to some degree you have gotten used to having them all around. A familiarity, a comfort, there is still something very heavy about the focus of their gazes. A reminder that they are five incredible people, who find solace and love in you, and each other, as you find in them. It is terrifying, in the best of ways. It still heats your skin, and makes you feel like fidgeting, however. "Of course." You speak, and it's soft, and it's warm, but it's truthful.
They are family, home, and safety.
When you walk through the doors, you see them and you know that you can lay down weapons and take off masks that keep you standing against the world.
You can breathe and you can live. It is the assurance and the confirmation, that there is nothing that you can ask of them, or tell them of, that will leave you standing in the cold, hurting and lonely and missing connection ever again.
That in no world, in no time, in no eventuality, will you not trust them, or adore them.
That you can survive alone, and you can be happy alone, but there is no substitution for how blissful and how joyful you are, when you are with them.
It's the very promise, that no matter how lost you get, they will find you. Chasing out fears you've held since your earliest memory.
The embarrassment makes you down your drink quickly though, avoiding knowing eyes, and watchful hearts.
When you finally leave the restaurant, heavily tipping waiters who likely had not expected their evening to stretch on as long as it had to six nigh rowdy customers, it's on light feet. You are pleasantly tipsy, the kind that comes from good company and delightful food, topped with drinks you balance with water.
Wary of the fact you have not slept well, and still a little alight from the long month of fighting, that leaves a feeling of preparation under your skin until you go through the routine of returning to your home.
You and Rafayel sing happily, walking down the street arm in arm, wobbling about, with the other's wary hands reaching out to keep you from straying into roads.
Zayne holds onto Sylus' arm as they walk, and you think you hear Sylus trying out some of those deadpan jokes from the horrible book you left on his desk for a laugh. You also are sure you hear Zayne laughing, soft and under his breath.
Xavier is nigh on asleep, head resting on Caleb's shoulder as bed beckons. Your best friend offers to carry your partner, who shakes his head, that he's fine, they're almost home afterall.
It is a happy buzz, so unlike times in the past when you had sought out reprieve in the floating sensation. Dimming the sharp edges of fears of abandonment and aching agony of self-hatred.
There is no pain, no anger, no loss, and when you finally see home, your feet are even lighter. The familiar doors like a beacon. You release Raffy's arm, turning on your heel and bounce back a little, "Last one there's a rotten egg."
Then you run, laughing.
"Pipsqueak, be careful!"
You almost slip, feeling your drunk fishie hot on your heels, your best friend racing after you with your partner, who stumbles a bit, but catches up quickly. You push your hand against the lock, pushing the door open, and feel the collision at your back. Falling through the door and out over the floor.
The gravity catches you, along with mist, as the four of you float a little in the air from where you almost hit the ground.
Sylus and Zayne look down over the four of you, and you are gently deposited on the ground, in a pile.
"Good reflexes." Xavier exhales, looking way more awake, even though his pretty eyes still swim with the drunken haze. He rolls over and pushes himself up, detangling himself.
You can feel Caleb's head against your chest, his laughter soft, he turns his head so he can look at you out of the corner of his eyes, "You're such a troublemaker."
"Me? I was having a fun competition."
"My head's swimming." Rafayel groans, clinging to your waist.
"Makes a change from the rest of you then, fish. Up you get." He's pulled up and deposited on his feet, then caught when he wobbles by Xavier, "The fish needs water, to the surprise of no one."
"Silly crow needs his feathers plucked." Rafayel huffs, but is quickly handed a glass, that he downs.
You and Caleb are offered a hand each, Zayne smiles down at you softly, his face still red, his warm eyes glowing. When you both take it, he lifts you both, into his arms, wrapping one around each of your waists and leads you to the kitchen bar where Xavier is now filling more glasses, and collecting hangover medication.
He bumps into the corner of the table as he blinks his tired eyes, and hisses a complaint.
You sit on one of the chairs, as you watch the group mill about. It hits you then, the exhaustion. Heavy and clawing. The walls of your house, and the people who make it a home, reminding you that you can rest.
As you place your cheek down on crossed arms over the bar, watching them, you feel the comfort settle around you like a blanket.
"Let's get you to sleep, Starlight."
"Too much fun for our Kitten, mhm?"
Always too much fun with them, not a single dull moment, feeling them pull and draw out the parts of you that were stronger as a child. The joy, the thrill of life, the satisfaction, all the feeling of being able to just exist and be silly, to have fun. Lost somewhere along the way at the pain of an unknown timeline, at the constant hurdles of life demanding you grow stronger when you had no ground to stand upon.
You felt yourself become more you again, over time. Reminded of how to live, and not just survive. No longer a raw nerve on the top, chafing under the weight of your heart, your aching feelings, or the metal hand at your side.
"Pipsqueak, drink this, then we'll go to sleep."
"You have the day off tomorrow, Cutie, let's have a lie in."
"Maybe then we can go to Destiny Cafe, Darling?"
As your eyes drift closed, heavy and tired, you exhale out a long sigh. Releasing all the weight of a long mission, everything that weighs down on your soul, pulling apart the shell of your heart, and extend it out as a gift for those that you would lay your life down for.
Your very soul.
It is easy, then, to say words you used to only be able to say when drunk. Hiding behind the loss of inhibition to share what you always wanted to share when sober.
Your eyes flutter open just barely, finding their figures, and you feel the scar pull as you smile, soft and small.
"I love you all so much." It feels a little wet, emotional, but it's warm, so happy and so relieved.
Because you adore and you love and you fight for this very home with your entire being, and that will never not be anymore true.
Inhales of shaking breath, tremors on the edges as vulnerability is offered up willingly. "We love you too."
When you wake up tomorrow, you'll say it again, over and over and over again, until they tire of hearing you. Until they can hear you say it in their dreams, and until it becomes as familiar to them as their own names.
You can think of no better use of your breath, and no better use of time spent, then reminding those who are home for you, that they are so very precious, and so worthy of every fight to keep safe.
That even if you should die tomorrow, you will always keep them embedded in every part of your soul, and seek them out in eternities and cycles to come. Your soul belonging with theirs.
