#poly lads

[1-delululand-1]

LaDS poly gc shenanigans

MC: "All men do is lie!"

Includes: Caleb, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Rafayel

Tw: none just crack n fluff

A/n: thought this was funny so here u go

M.List

[the-dormant-ocean]

Pre-Snowcrow, where Zayne comes home after a 20-hour shift, when MC is eating breakfast and Sylus diner. At this point, he can barely see straight and is only half awake. As usual, he goes to say hello to them, which consists of a kiss for MC and a simple "good evening" for Sylus. However, his brain is fried and after kissing MC, when Sylus opens his mouth to say hello he's interrupted. Sylus is floored. Zayne kissed him. A quick peck on the mouth, but he kissed him.

"I'm exhausted, so I won't be eating with you this time. I'm showering and immediately going to bed. Have a good day," and Zayne immediately goes to the bedroom.

Zayne is sentimental and mindful of people's boundaries. He isn't the type to steal a kiss from someone to confess his feelings. It can't be a prank either because that's not his style. But it could be MC's idea, and he might have gone along with it. He's not really good at saying no to her. However, she looks as surprised as him but is smiling and seems delighted.

"Are you the one responsible for this?" "Nope! I wish I was tho!" "Is he even aware of what he did?" "Definitely not. It'll only register once he wakes up from his 10-hour nap" "This will be... interesting." Zayne's lips were soft. The warmth that had spread in Sylus' chest when they kissed had been radiant and the smell of his cologne, downright intoxicating. Sylus bites his lip instinctively at the memory, longing for more.

When Zayne finally wakes up from his nap, he is mortified. Sylus keeps joking about how unexpectedly brazen Zayne is and flirting with him like crazy. Zayne thinks Sylus is just messing with him, but he actually 100% means it. MC keeps bringing up how hilarious it is that Zayne somehow blindsided Sylus, the boss of Onychinus, with a kiss, out of all things.

Sylus tells everyone and their grandmothers at any given opportunity that Zayne is the one who made the first move. He's so smug about it. "Sylus, not everyone needs to know" "But it's only the truth" "Yes, but the cashier was just making small talk" "And?" "You're unbelievable".

[thisisjustfanfic]

Cleaning up the Timeline

{Caleb is back, but is he who you remember?}

Read on ao3. Part One.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance, Violence, Blo0d, Betrayal, Angst

Chapter 23: Crimes

It’s good to have something to focus on. A tether to wrap around to keep from blowing away like a kite in a tornado. The weight of Caleb’s body is sobering, and you cry out for help as you attempt to drag him inside. 

He drips blood onto the polished floors, and you gasp when he slips from your grasp, hauled into the hand of Sylus and Xavier. 

“Take him to my bedroom,” You tell them. You remember the medical kit Zayne left in there, and without the doctor in the house at the moment, you’ll have to make do. Sylus grumbles under his breath as he hauls the unconscious man up the stairs and into your room. You direct them to the bathroom, sitting him up against the wall and almost slipping on the still damp floor.

You crouch down to Caleb’s side and feel for his pulse. It’s steady and strong, but his breathing is short. You stand and go to retrieve the bag Zayne left, barking out a harsh, “Get out.”

Sylus is already stepping back, but Rafayel remains firm, “Cutie, we can help.”

“I don’t want or need your help right now.” You hiss, too raw right now to look him in the eye, “I need a minute. I need….like so many minutes. Just go. Get out, and don’t come back until I say.”

“Please,” Xavier whispers, reaching out again, “I can explain this. It isn’t as it seems.”

“Isn’t it! ?” You whirl around, screaming in his face with all the pent up emotion you had inside you, “Because it seems like I got dumped in some world all alone. The people who claimed to love me didn’t even bother looking for me, and when they did find me, they left me in the dark! Playing housekeeper and fuck doll! Parading around like I wasn’t missing half of myself! Did you have fun!? Playing with this version of me ?!”

Xavier goes pale, and you regret your words the instant you’ve said them because they’ve landed perfectly. You’ve wounded him. Wounded all of them. But the fire in you is still burning too hot, and so you turn away, and leave them with whatever pain they feel they deserve and close the bathroom door behind you. 

Caleb groans when the door slams and rattles the walls. You drop the bag beside him, and then press a hand to the sticky side of his face.

“Caleb,” You call, “Caleb, wake up.”

He stirs slightly, eyes cracking open but fighting against the light. Hazy violet irises find you and widen slightly. A choked noise leaves his cracked lips, and he lifts his hand to reach out to you.

“Are you hurt?” He rasps, reaching out but not touching. His trembling fingers hover an inch away from your face, the blood coating his digits has nearly dried and is beginning to flake.

You shake your head, “I’m fine. What— What happened? You’re covered in blood!” 

“Not mine.” He whispers, hand falling back to his side. His gaze drifts down his face and down to your neck, a sleepy drag of his vision. “I had to… I didn’t want you to see me like this, but you weren’t there….”

“What?” You breathe in confusion. You sigh and pull his attention back to you with a gentle hand to his shoulder, “Are you hurt anywhere? Zayne isn’t here, but I can still help.”

Caleb wheezes out a laugh and lets his head fall back against the wall, “You gonna’ kiss it better, pipsqueak?”

The juvenile urge to smack him upside the head occurs to you, but you push it away. You lean back to assess his torso and legs.When you try to peel the jacket from him, it’s stuck to his shirt with blood and gore, and the sound of the wet fabric is more than enough to persuade to take an alternate route. 

From the medical kit, you pull out scissors and start at the hem of his shirt, cutting him out of it. 

You snip, snip, snip your way up his ruined clothing, and you make it to his chest before he startles and pulls away, “Don’t.”

Reinforcing your grip on him, you hiss at him, “Stay still. You need to get cleaned up. I’m sure you have a great explanation for all the blood. WE can talk about it later.”

“No,” Caleb shuffles back, “You can’t see me.”

“I’ve seen you naked before,” You huff, “We lived together for a while– if you haven’t forgotten. Though, maybe you have? You did leave me for over a year. Thanks for that by the way.”

“Pipsqueak,” Caleb says mournfully, and he finally touches you. Grabbing the hand with the surgical scissors and holding them away from him, “I…I don’t look…the same.”

A dry laugh escapes you, “I don’t remember you being so vain. You’re lucky that I’m only marginally less mad at you than I am at them right now– Now, quit fighting me and let me help you.”

Caleb goes quiet and slowly lets go of your wrist. You return to work, cutting him free of the soiled garments and peeling them from his skin. 

He was right about not looking the same. He’s thicker than you remember. The diameter of his arms and legs are just all around larger. There are scars too. Burns that have left their mark all along the right side of his body. Wrinkled and puckered skin that’s still slightly pink from fresh flesh.

Clad in just his underwear, you realize none of that is what he meant by different. He stiffens when you see it. When your eyes fall on the shiny metal of his prosthetic arm. It’s striking, both in engineering and design. Made in the form to be molded like an arm, it articulates when he tenses, the metallic fibers that take the place of muscles cording tighter. 

You’re quiet for a moment, and he flinches when you reach for him. Though, for some reason, he doesn’t stop you. He lets you slowly draw your fingers along the edge of his prosthesis, where flesh meets metal. It’s rigged, but clean. 

“Did…” You find a hard lump in your throat when you try to speak, “Did Ever do this?”

Caleb looks at your face like he’s waiting for something horrible to happen. A wide-eyed lost look of someone expecting to be rejected and discarded. He nods. 

“Does it hurt?” You ask, and to that he shakes his head. You flatten your hand over his shoulder, letting only your pinky finger rest against what is not Caleb. “You can still shower right? Can it get wet?”

That makes him laugh, “Yeah, it can.”

“Good.”

You ready the shower, and help him to his feet. You pull a towel out from the cabinet and set it on the counter. He watches every move you make, and the flutters of a smile appear when you turn your attention back to him. 

“I’ll just…” You clear your throat and point to the door, “I’m gonna’ find you some clothes to wear, and then we can…talk.”

Caleb looks uncertain but he nods, and you take the opportunity to escape. You go back to your room, and pick up the clothes from the floor. You change into something fresh and bundle your now bloody clothes into a bag to throw away. 

It isn’t something you want to do at this point, but you have to. You leave your bedroom, and– of course– one of them is already there. Xavier is standing on the other side of the hall, leaning against the wall. 

“Bunny,” He breathes in relief at the sight of you. He steps closer to you, but you stop him with a flat hand. 

“Don’t.” You snap. “I need clothes. For Caleb.”

Xavier’s jaw tightens and his back goes rigid, “Is he alright?”

“He’s not hurt,” You reply stiffly, “But he’s filthy. I’m letting him get cleaned up, and then I’ll get him to explain the blood.”

“He could be involved–”

“If you’re about to suggest that Caleb had something to do with Ever, I don’t want to hear it.” You hate the way your voice trembles. Too much emotion leaking out and making the words tumble out of you unsteadily. You’re tiptoeing on a knife’s edge of sanity as it is. You can’t entertain the idea that Caleb might not be on your side.

Xavier inhales through his nose and then exhales slowly. Trying just as hard to remain calm, “I’ll go get some clothes. And some food.”

You nod, unable to say thanks out loud to him right now. “Where are the others?”

Xavier pauses as he turns to leave, “Downstairs.”

“Why are you up here then?” 

Xavier blinks and turns to face you fully, “Because you still need me. The last time you left my sight, they took you. I won’t let that happen again, even if you hate me.”

A dagger spears your chest, and you feel your heart spasm at his words, “I don't– I don’t hate you.” 

Xavier smiles almost sadly, “I’ll go get what you need. I’ll knock and leave them outside.”

He walks away and you feel guilt gnaw at you. Tear at your tender flesh and leave you raw and open. You escape back to your bedroom and wipe a hand down your face. The sound of the shower is still going, and it’ll likely take a while for Caleb to get clean. 

So, you sit on your bed and take stock. 

This world– This universe ? – Wasn’t original. Or, at least, it wasn’t your original one. It was different. Recycled? You remember Zayne enacted some spell, but the conversations about its purpose and effects are still lost to you. 

That past life had been…it had been good. It was hard to survive, and there was so much suffering but there had been so much good too. Your life. Your love. The home you had built together with the four men that loved you. It was all gone. Turned to stardust and mortar to build the bricks of the world now standing around you. 

You had lived your whole life until this point thinking they didn’t exist. They had let you live in complete ignorance of who they were and what they meant to you. You were struggling to piece together how it all happened. How had they all found each other, but forgotten you? 

It hurt. The years you could have had and time slipped through unknowing fingers is a wound you’re still reeling from. You’d know Zayne since…

Zayne. 

Zayne didn’t know. Rafayel has said it so casually, but it didn’t make any sense. Why did Xavier, Sylus, and Rafayel remember– but not Zayne? A cost of the spell? It sounded plausible. It had taken the essence of everyone to make this new universe, it would stand to reckon it would take any pound of flesh it could while it was at it. 

Why didn’t you remember?

You took a deep breath and tried to slow down your thoughts. 

If what they said was true, then they tried to find you but couldn’t. You’d been hidden all this time right under their noses, and Zayne– without his memory– hadn’t been able to help you. Even without memory of each other, you and Zayne found each other. You still found them, as fate would have it. Even with the vastness of this world. All the choices that lead you to this very moment….you still found them. 

But a decade ago….they’d stopped looking for you ten years ago . Come to some unanimous decision that you weren’t worth looking for anymore?

Had you been easy to forget? Had they been surprised to see you? A ghost came to haunt them….It hurts. God, it hurts. It tore at your heart because you can’t imagine a world where you stop looking for any of them. You’d have tore open the earth, cracked every foundation, uprooted every tree, and overturned every rock to find them again.

What cruelty it was, to think of those years you could have had with them. And yet– a kinder part of your mind supplies– what a unique opportunity you’d been bestowed. 

You had gotten the chance to fall in love with them all over again, and they too. They hadn’t exactly invited you here with the intention to love you again. Xavier had been downright prickly at first, and Rafayel too teasing. Sylus had barely made any moves to get to know you until it was clear you were staying. 

There was no great orchestration to get you here. An unknowing lamb for them to groom you for their desires. They just…let you live. Let you fall into them again as easy as breathing. 

After you hear the knock, you rise from the bed feeling marginally better than before. You’re still owed a hell of an explanation, but at the very least you’re not itching to escape any more. 

Xavier has returned to his post, standing guard in the hall and he keeps his eyes downcast as you retrieve the tray of food and the pile of folded clothes beneath it. 

Two steaming styrofoam cups of instant ramen sit next to two unopened bottles of water. A little plate of peeled and sliced apples on one side, and next to that a little piece of strawberry candy. 

Just as you sit the tray down onto the bed, you hear the shower stop running. Caleb exits the bathroom with a plume of steam behind him. He’s got the towel you left him wrapped around his hips and thankfully, no more blood covers him. It makes the chrome of his right arm stand out even more, and you avoid looking at it for too long.

“Get dressed.” You say as sternly as you can, hoping you sound like you mean the most serious of business, “And then start talking.”

Caleb looks a little hesitant but nods. He grabs the clothes and goes back into the bathroom to change, coming back out in a dark color sweatshirt belonging to Sylus and a pair of red lounge pants that belong to Zayne. 

He sits down on the bed on the other side of the tray and looks down at the cup of ramen thoughtfully, “I don’t know where to begin.”

You huff softly, “How about why you were covered in blood?”

Caleb’s face goes grim and he shakes his head, “Can’t we just…forget about that? It was– It had to be done, and I don’t really–”

“ Caleb .” You interrupt him sharply, “I promise you that whatever you tell me is not half as weird as the other shit I’ve gone through today.”

You’re not entirely sure you can handle whatever comes out of Caleb’s mouth next, but it’s not like you have anything else to do. And you need answers. At least one answer to the laundry list of questions burning in your mind. 

“The explosion…” Caleb begins softly, “I knew it was going to happen, and I let it happen. I…I let Ever take me, so that they couldn’t take you. It was you or me, and I couldn’t let you go back to that place. I swore I’d never let them have you again.”

“Ever had me before?” It was only in theory before that. You had no memories of being with Ever as a child, but the documents don’t lie. Gran had had some connections and you had hoped…

“It’s where we met.” Caleb whispers, finally meeting your eye. “All I wanted was to protect you, and eventually we got out. I swore– I swore to never let them have you again. So when they took me in…when they took my arm….I did everything I could to protect you from them.”

You rise to your feet, needing to be moving to escape the sudden burst of writhing anxiety in your chest. “What did you do?”

“I did a lot of things.” Caleb replies.

“Did you put a bug on my phone?” You whirl to look at him, for once in your life you’re taller than him. Only while he sits hunched over on your bed does he sit lower than you. 

He flinches at the question and looks away, “Yes.”

A blow. A piercing arrow into the liver. Bleeding slowly. “Were you the one who followed me? That first time?”

Caleb shakes his head, “No, but I– I helped. I told them…where you were.”

Your hands clench at your sides. “The storage unit? Did you take my photos?”

At this Caleb looks up at you, “Yes, but only because I was setting everything up! I…I knew you’d want them and I was afraid Ever would burn everything they could get their hands on of yours. They’d originally planned to take you and erase any mark that you ever existed. I knew you’d want those photos.”

His explanation doesn’t soothe you, and you have to take a step back away from him. “Did you lure me to my apartment? Was it you I was following?”

Caleb freezes, and all the hope and eagerness in his puppy-like eyes evaporates into cold horror, “I…You weren’t supposed to see me.”

“But I did! I thought you were dead! And you were tormenting me! Haunting me! I couldn’t– I couldn’t breathe! I couldn’t function when I thought you were dead! And you were fucking with me!?”

“No!” Caleb cries, rising to his feet, “I needed to see you. I…I was…I was weak. I couldn’t stand being apart like that and I got stupid. I just wanted to see you. To show you that Ever had been watching you for a while. You had no idea the trouble you were in!”

“Well thanks! I’m definitely aware now!” You snarl back at him, “What was the point of it!? You fake your death and leave me alone and they still took me!? What was it all for?!”

Caleb looks horrified and he chokes on a sob, “I failed! I was setting it up! I was planning for us– We were supposed to be together! Ever was supposed to burn to the ground and then I would come get you! But they found a loophole!”

He grabs at his hair and breathes through his teeth, muscles tense, but then suddenly, he relaxes. He lets go of his hair and lets his hands fall to his sides. In a much calmer tone he continues, “They found a legal loophole that would protect them if they took you. You and I were their property. I didn’t find out you were even there until a week later because they sent me on some bullshit mission into the Deepspace Tunnel. I swear– I swear you wouldn’t have spent more than an hour there if I’d known.”

You turn away from him, covering your mouth with your hand. Tears burst from your eyes, not even bothering to linger before their spilling over. Your stomach threatens to retch and you can barely manage the next words out of your mouth, looking over your shoulder at him, “You were working with them?”

Caleb steps back like you’d shot him. He steps once towards you and then falls to his knees, he reaches out to you in utter desperation, beseeching you with crystalline tears shimmering down his cheeks. “ Please, please, don’t cry. I was never working for them! Not really ! It was only to protect you! To keep you safe! 

You try to step away from him but he’s grabbing at your shirt and wrapping his arms around your hips. 

“ It wasn’t supposed to be like this!” Caleb sobs hysterically, digging his face into your abdomen. “It wasn’t supposed to be this horrible!”

“Caleb, let go of me.” You stutter out, ineffectually pushing at him to let you go. He only holds you tighter and chokes on his own sorrow the harder you push. 

“Forgive me please!” He blubbers, lifting his chin to look at you through his dewey lashes, “I need you. I need you to forgive me. I can’t….All of this– all of this was for you.”

You can’t process while he’s groveling like this, and you’re drowning in the absurdity and overwhelming revelations you’ve made today that you stop fighting him. You let him cling to you and press the heels of your palms into your eyes. 

The men you loved had stopped looking for you. The man you grew to love in this life had worked with the organization that had tortured and experimented on you. Your heart had been shredded too far, in little tatters settling amongst the ribbons of your lungs. 

You take in a shuddering breath. Your hands are held up and away from him, unable to grant him the pleasure of your touch. In a trembling voice you ask, “Why were you covered in blood?”

Caleb sniffles and looks up at you, “I killed them all. I killed that Antham woman, and anyone else that tried to stop me. The minute I knew you were with Ever I went and got you. You were…You were unconscious. So I carried you out. I killed everyone in the way. I would kill anyone else that tried to come for you. That’s why…”

You shudder on another inhale. You close your eyes, needing one less sensory input to process this. “You helped me escape.”

“Yes. Yes.” Caleb jumped at the opportunity to return to your side, to remind you that he was and always be your ally. Your closest, most reliable, guard dog. “That man that did this to you. He’s dead. His assistants too. Anyone who touched you is dead.”

“You didn’t–” You cut yourself off and take another breath, “Did you have to kill everyone?”

“There was no other way.” Caleb whispers, placing his chest to your tummy and squeezing you again, “I tried it civilly. I had it all set up. I was going to get their stock to tank. Release some classified files to destroy them in the press. Choke them from their funding. Destroy all the files they had on you. Then kill anyone who remembered it.”

You laugh mirthlessly, “What a plan…” 

“You have to know,” Caleb says as he lets his hands reach up higher on your back, “I would never do anything to hurt you. All I have ever wanted was to love you. To be at your side.”

Slowly– achingly slowly– you let your hands rest on his shoulders, and Caleb shudders at your touch. He trembles with the warmth of your fingers, and you wonder when that little boy you grew up with became capable of such horrible violence. He’d taken dozens of lives today, and here he was– kneeling at your feet worried about gaining your forgiveness instead of some wrathful god’s.

“I’m so sorry…” Caleb whispers against your stomach, and you feel the movement of his lips through your shirt. “I…I shouldn’t have ever intervened. It’s my fault. The lines I wrote…”

Something about his last words strikes something in you. A dusty old bell of recognition that makes you grab the sides of his face and tilt his head back to look at you. “What did you just say?”

Caleb’s eyes go a little hazy at your manhandling, “It’s my fault. I…I wrote more lines. I changed the story.”

The Story.

You shove him away, and he too easily falls back. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Caleb turns back to you, “Pipsqueak–”

Pain lashes through your head, blinding again as more visions from the past flare like gunpowder meeting sparks. 

“Come with me.” The young man urges. He holds out a hand, having to lean down far from his horse to reach you. The other women you’d escaped the burning village with have already left you behind, but this man …wouldn’t let you go.

“I can’t–” You rasp. The smoke from the burning hut you’d just been inside makes your throat burn, and it takes effort to push words out. “I don’t know you! You’re with them! Those raiders!”

The young raider looks over his shoulder and through the trees, where the glow of the village shines. The rest of his band is taking care of the remainders of the goods to be plundered and lighting the remaining buildings ablaze. 

He climbs down from his horse and takes off the helmet that covers most of his face, “Please.” He says your name and you startle at the sound of it, “I know you probably don’t remember me.”

You recognize the violet in his eyes. The soft lavender and mauve that you remember in a boy much smaller than this. The man who stands before you is a far cry from that little boy you knew. Huddled together on the dusty mud floor of the convent, avoiding lashing from the priestesses and hoping some wealthy family comes by to adopt you. 

“No,” You say softly, “I do.”

You hadn’t known him more than a month before parting, but you’d remember him– for his beautiful eyes if nothing else. He’d been sold off to some rough looking folk that threw a sword in his hands the moment he left the convent, and you were adopted to a small merchant family– an extra set of hands they couldn’t be bothered to pay for. 

“I can keep you safe.” He says earnestly, taking both of your hands into his. And standing before you clad in the roughened armor of a raider. The cloak at his back is a mustard yellow and trimmed with black. “Come with me. Stay by my side, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. You don’t have to keep running like this.”

The whoops and cheers of the raiders echo through the woods, and a flurry of ash and embers explodes into the night sky as one of the houses from the village collapses.

You squeeze his hands. He seems so earnest, and you trust that he means his words– but you doubt he can follow through.

“Look at this place,” You whisper, “Do you really think you can protect me from them? From the band you swore loyalty to?”

Caleb freezes. You remember his name now. When his eyes widen into that childlike fear, you recognize him more. His hands slowly relax and release you, and you let your touch linger as you slowly draw away. 

“In another life.” You whisper, “I would go with you.”

A gasp shreds into you, and you stumble backwards– crashing into the bedside table and sending the lamp and picture frame clattering to the floor. Your knees threaten to buckle under you and you grab onto the headboard of your bed. Hand covering your mouth to prevent a scream from escaping. 

“Pipsqueak…” Caleb repeats, kneeling on one knee and his hands outstretched towards you.

His eyes. How could forget his eyes? The color of nightshade blossoms. Poison. But he was so kind. So gentle. You caught only glimpses of him in your life before, and you had thought he had died after that final meeting. That raid that had led you to the Sanctuary in the first place. 

“What…W-what did you do?” You’re shaking again, unsure whether in fear or in rage. 

Caleb eyes widen slightly, recognition sparkling in that quickly spoils into agony, “You remember.”

His words are the final nail in the coffin, and you choke on the sudden swell of sorrow that explodes inside you. Sliding down to curl up into a ball on the floor, pushing yourself as far back as you can go. 

“Pipsqueak,” Caleb whispers again, approaching like one might a scared animal. 

“Don’t call me that!” You scream and he recoils back. “Say it! I want to hear you say it Caleb!”

What a sight the two of you must make. You, curled up tightly in the corner, hissing like a frightened cat, claws bared while Caleb rests on his hands and knees a few feet away. 

Caleb’s frightened eyes search your face for a moment, flickering like he was scared of the next words to emerge from his mouth. “I…I was there.”

You force yourself to keep eye contact with him, and wait for him to confess his sins.

“I…It was my fault. I…” Caleb sits back on his heels and rests his hands on his thighs, eyes downcast on the floor between you. “I found your Sanctuary. I told Astra where it was. I asked Astra for you, in exchange. All I…All I wanted was to be by your side. I wanted to keep you safe, and happy.”

“It’s your fault.” You whisper– a statement of fact that wounds you both.

“It’s my fault.” He repeats again. “When I heard what the envoy demanded, I went to get you. To take you to safety. It wasn’t supposed to–”

“You were too late.” You say, letting your eyes drift away from his guilt-ridden face and down to your hands, “Zayne was already performing the spell.”

Caleb nods, “It was wrong….I know I was wrong but I…I just wanted…”

“What did you write?” You push. You can hear his voice getting weaker, more reluctant to speak the truth he so desperately wants to conceal. 

Caleb hunches over more. “I added my name into the story. Put ours next to each other. I wanted to grow up with you…like we should have before. I wanted to be by your side the whole time. I just wanted a happily ever after…”

A dry scoff leaves you, “And that made Ever.”

“Maybe.” Caleb shakes his head, “Probably. Zayne was careful, and I…I wrote a line that kept you apart from them.”

You flinch and grit your teeth, “ Why ?”

He shakes his head, “I…I was so tired of being alone…I couldn’t…I couldn’t compete with them. I hated them…for having you when I couldn’t.”

You’re past the point of emotional outbursts. The agony in your chest has burned so hotly it’s turned from a raging star into the low white-hot permanence of a dwarf star. You don’t have it in you to scream again, to thrash and flail like a fish on a spear.

“They’ll kill you.” You whisper, feeling numb, “If they find out it was you. They’ll kill you.”

Caleb swallows again and he nods, “If you can’t forgive me, then I don’t want to live. If you want me to go, then I won’t fight them.”

“You’re insane.” 

A heavy silence falls between you, draping you in a suffocating blanket of lead and sorrow. Caleb doesn’t move, and he doesn’t look away. He stares at you like it might be the last time, and you don’t have it in you to correct him. 

“Do you remember when we were younger…” Caleb’s voice is tight, like he’s fighting back tears again, “You had these journals. A ledger you kept against me whenever I annoyed you.”

Your heart twists, “I remember.”

“I can never undo what I’ve done, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do to make up for it.” Caleb exhales softly, “But I am so sorry . I acted selfishly. I acted without thinking, and I will spend every moment of the rest of my life working to make amends. Please, pipsqueak, please….forgive me.”

There’s a war inside you. You still feel like two people inside one body, shredded in twain where one half resides in a world of war and survival. That part of you demands a blood price for what he’s done. An eye for an eye. That part of you only remembers glimpses of Caleb, and doesn't know him. 

Then there’s the other part of you. The part that grew up with this version of him. Years of helping each other with homework and teasing each other endlessly. Spending hours hidden beneath blankets and waiting out thunderstorms. He’s Caleb. He’s your Caleb. The boy who made you soup when you were sick and made sure to sit and listen to your every complaint. 

He’d cheered the loudest at your graduation. He’d kept your secrets about your crush on Zayne and that time you broke one of Gran’s vases and replaced it with a similar one from the thrift shop. 

It would be easier if you weren’t human. If you could look at things like a calculator. Input the deeds he’d done and multiply it by some value of morality. and see in clear numbers whether or not he deserved to be forgiven. 

But you’re not a robot. You’re not a calculator, or a weapon. You’re only human, and so you uncurl from the fetal position and slowly– so slowly– reach out to him. He crawls to you, letting you cradle the sides of his face in your palms, and his expression slackens into despondency. 

“I don’t forgive you.” You whisper while you simultaneously brush your thumb across his cheekbone. His bottom lip trembles, and his eyes shine with renewed dew. You don’t let him pull away or push closer, holding him at arm’s length, “But I want to….someday. I think I could forgive you someday.”

Caleb dissolves between your fingers. He lowers himself down to the floor to crawl even closer to you, until he’s resting his head in your lap, “I’ll do anything… anything .”

You pet his hair, feeling the still damp strands between your fingers and you sigh, “I need to talk to the others. I need to make sense of things with them.”

Caleb lifts his head, “They’ll kill me. They’ll kill me, and I deserve it.”

“No one is blameless here.” You reply, “You’ve done horrible things to me. To them. You can’t just gain my forgiveness. You have to make amends with them too. If you want to be by my side, they’re part of it.”

Caleb’s expression softens from its ragged edge; he looks starry-eyed up at you, “You really….you really won’t send me away?”

“Not yet.” You hush, “I have an idea, but I need to go and talk to the others first. Can you wait here?”

Caleb nods eagerly, and rises up to his knees. “Always. Anything you want.”

Caleb sits obediently on your bed while you get busy yourself. Procrastinating leaving the room by changing your clothes again, brushing your hair and putting it up. You’re so exhausted that you debate taking a nap, but this can’t wait. You can sleep once you’re not torn up inside. When you know the men you love aren’t upset with you, and that everything is as it should be. 

You need answers before you can sleep, and you have to make sure they don’t actually try to kill Caleb in the meantime.

You reinforce your command for Caleb to stay in your room, and he nods firmly as you leave. 

Xavier is still there, waiting just outside the door. His Lightblade in one hand and standing stoically. His eyes soften when you appear, and the tension across his shoulders ease. 

He’s looking at you with such eagerness that you have to look away, “How much did you hear?”

The hand holding his Light blade shifts around the hilt, “Enough.”

You nod and cross your arms, “I want to talk to all of you, but I just…the others can’t know what he’s done yet. Can you–”

“No.” Xavier cuts you off. “I will not keep it from them. You brought the enemy into our house.”

“I’m not asking you to hide it forever!” You hiss, “Just let me explain it to them before you go busting down doors.”

Xavier spins the Lightblade in a flourish, crossing it behind his back as he takes steps towards you, “There is no forgiveness I can grant him. I won’t kill him, but he cannot stay here.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Xavier, please. Please let’s just go downstairs and talk, ok? I am so tired.”

Xavier stops you with a firm hand on your arm, tight but not painful. When he pulls you to look at him again his eyes are burning with an indiscernible fire. He says your name, pleads it before speaking, “If you remember the past, then you remember the oath I made to you. I swore my life to yours– to protect you. And he took that– he took that life.”

You glance down to where Xavier is holding onto you, and you reach out with your free hand to peel his hand away. Though you don’t let him go, you splay out your hands. Palm to palm and each finger pressed against the other. His hands are so much larger than yours, and you twist to lace your fingers together.

“I remember.” You whisper, “I remember the oath you made, and how I asked you not to make it.”

“That doesn’t change anything.” Xavier squeezes your hand, “There is no world where I do not belong to you.”

You let yourself enjoy the warmth from his palm for a moment longer before pulling away, “Then why did you stop looking?”

You turn and head down the stairs, out to the living room where Sylus and Rafayel sit. When they see you enter, they both rise to their feet. Sylus looks almost frightened while Rafayel doesn’t hesitate to push into your space.

“You don’t understand,” Rafayel says hastily, grabbing ahold of your wrists and looking at you pleadingly, “I searched for so long. For so long. I didn’t…I thought you didn’t exist. I thought you were gone.”

You take a steadying breath and draw away from him. “Go sit down Rafayel. We need to talk.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, princess. Please.”

You give him a look, and he reluctantly obeys, going to sit down across from Sylus, who also returns to his seat. The white haired man is oddly silent, no argument or begging for forgiveness from him. He can’t even look at you. 

Xavier lets his Light blade shimmer out of existence and then sits down, the three of them waiting for you to speak.

“You stopped looking for me.” Is how you choose to begin, and you have to raise your hand to silence Rafayel from arguing again, “I want to know why. I want to know…how you all found each other and just… forgot about me.”

“We didn’t!” Rafayel barks, nearly standing but halted by Xavier’s hand on his arm.

“You did!” You snap right back. “I swear to god if any of you lie to me again I’m leaving. I’ll leave and never come back!”

It’s a lie. You know it, but they don’t seem to. Variations of horror crossing their features.

“We used facial recognition, but without an image to use,” Sylus begins. His voice is the most subdued you’ve ever heard it, “We were basically running with an artistic sketch. It never worked. We weren’t sure if you had the same name as before, or what year you would be born in.”

Your brow crinkles, “What does that mean?”

“This universe isn’t the same,” Xavier explains, “but it rhymes.”

“Rhymes?”

“The timeline of what occurred in the past happens now. I was centuries old when we first met, princess. And so I’ve been here for centuries before you were even born.” Rafayel adds, “Sylus too.”

“There’s no logic to it.” Sylus hums, still avoiding looking you in the eye, “We didn’t just wake up in these bodies and know. I spent decades alone, thinking the spell hadn’t worked. Then I found Rafayel.”

“I was next,” Xavier says, leaning forward on the couch, “We never found each other on purpose. Only by chance. I was undercover in the N109 zone when I found Sylus again, and Sylus found Rafayel at an auction.”

“When we went actively searching, we would always fail.” Rafayel grumbles as he crosses his arms. “It didn’t stop us from trying.”

“We knew Zayne would be somewhere trying to help people. And that you probably weren’t far from him.” Xavier says with a slight nod, “But we didn’t actually find him until he ran into us. Skiing of all things.”

“We only found Zayne three years ago.” Sylus remarks with a slight smirk, like remembering something funny, “We assumed the spell had obliterated him, and you. So when we found Zayne we tried to find you again, but nothing. Zayne doesn’t remember us the way we do him. He’s drawn to us, but he doesn’t know why.”

“You know how hard it is to search for someone that fate won’t let you find?” Rafayel scoffs. “We never stopped looking for you. Not really.”

“We made an agreement to stop breaking into records offices and hacking into hospital databases. A decade ago.” Xavier says this part softly, a bit shamefully. 

“Even your room!” Rafayel’s on his feet, motioning upwards to the floor above, “We made it for you! We made this place for all of us! We’d agreed that you…that you probably didn’t exist, but we kept the space for you.”

Your arms are unknowingly crossed, protecting you against the bombardment of information and emotion that wracks through you. Silence ensues, the three of them waiting for your reply. 

“I don’t want to be angry. I…I’m so tired, and just want to sleep. But I don’t know what world I’ll wake up in anymore.” You’re starting to crumble again, you can feel your thoughts slipping through your grasp like wisps of smoke. “I’ve got two lives inside my head. Two people. And I can’t remember how long I was there. I remember waking up this morning worrying about the runes. I can’t remember whether we need milk because we ran out of it in the fridge, or because we lost two cattle to wolves.”

 You take a second to breathe, and then continue, “I understand now. I…I don’t remember everything. There’s still a lot missing, but I remember enough. Enough to know that if it was possible, you would have found me.”

“Zayne got lucky.” Rafayel grumbles, “And he didn’t even know! I can’t stand him sometimes.”

You can’t help but sigh, some of the tension escapes you when you do, “It makes sense. I knew Zayne in the sanctuary for years before I found you, and then…” You press your hand to your forehead, “I think it was years…does it feel like this for you? Like…being split?”

Xavier rises to his feet, and you watch him tentatively approach you. The tightness in his brow eases when you don’t stop him, “It did at first. Like a dream, but then it felt like the past. Like memories.”

“I should really sleep.” You whisper to yourself.

The front door opens with a large clatter and then slams shut. From the entry, Zayne appears tugging a rolling cart behind him and another bag over his shoulders. He spots you standing in the middle of the room and his mouth forms a tight line, “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“Caleb came back,” You tell him. You reach out to press a hand to Xavier’s chest, a silent gesture of comfort before you walk over to Zayne. “He says he’s not injured, but can you look at him?”

Zayne exhales, but it might as well be an indignant huff, “After you. Sit on the couch. I need to perform a neurological exam.”

“Zayne, please, I’m fine!” You say but he’s already shepherding you to the couch, sitting you near the arm next to Rafayel. 

“Argue with me again.” Zayne challenges with a slight tilt of his head, “I dare you.”

You concede with a sigh, and the tension in the air is palpable. 

Zayne proceeds to ask you a series of questions: what year is it? What’s your name? When’s your birthday? And dammit if it doesn’t take you a second to answer them. Your name is easy, you had the same one in the past life too. The year? That was rougher.

He flashes a light in your eyes to check for pupillary response and then makes you stare straight ahead while he moves the thin penlight back and forth, and then makes you follow it with your eyes. 

You’ve passed his test, but he doesn’t look pleased. “I’d still like to get imaging done. A CT at least. There could be internal bleeding, or even a microfracture. You’re adrenaline is up and it could be hiding–”

“Zayne,” You say insistently, grabbing him by the sides of the face and holding him still. “I’m fine. I’m alright. If you really need to, we can go tomorrow. And you can take as many pictures of my bones as you want.”

Zayne looks a little doe-eyed, staring at you, “Your heart…”

“Is just fine.” You finish for him, “Now please, can you go check on Caleb? He’s in my room.”

Zayne’s nose crinkles slightly, “Fine. I’ll go check on him, though I doubt he’ll let me get very far. He’s more stubborn than you, as far as I remember.”

You drop your hands and can’t help but giggle, “Tell him I told him to behave. He’ll shape up quick. I promise.”

Zayne is clearly unconvinced, and goes to stand but seems to remember something. He blinks and moves to press his cool palm against your jaw, winding into your hair to pull you into a kiss. 

Zayne from before– The Master of Fate– had been frugal with his affections. Too afraid to break the bond you had formed through years as teacher and student. He saw you as his pupil, his ward. Someone he needed to protect and care for, and so he was reluctant to spoil that with things like kisses. 

You like this Zayne better. He kisses you freely. In plain view of others and without fear. He’s sure in his feelings and in the security of this world without war and famine. He doesn’t have the weight of a Sanctuary riding on his shoulders, and the fear of what to do should an army come knocking. 

As Zayne pulls away, you realize that you’d do it all again. Go through everything in the world again, just to see Zayne this free. 

Zayne takes his equipment upstairs and you turn to the others. 

Xavier had spent his entire life being groomed for a throne he didn’t want. Thrown into battle and war zones to prove his worth to his gluttonous, warmongering father. When you’d met him before, he’d been on the verge of death. The scars lining his body never really healed. He had lost most of his vision in his left eye and part of his left ear. And here? He was unscathed. A scar here or there, but nothing like before. 

Rafayel is lighter in this world. Free from the guilt of his lost kingdom. Before, you’d find him lost in thought. So deep in his own mind and wracked with sorrow of what he’d lost that he’d be completely deaf to the world. In this world, the only time he was lost was when he was deep within a painting. Lost not in traumatic memories, but in the euphoria of creativity. 

Sylus was the most different– physically. No longer was his skin covered in black ebony scales. His fingers were missing the long dangerous talons that he’d tried on some many occasions to cut. The horns that he’d knock against doorways and too-low ceilings were gone. Aspects that you had grown to love were gone, and you wondered if he’d been born without them here, or learned to hide them somehow. But he’d lamented the fact he had to hold you so delicately. Hated the fact he could not sleep in the bed with you and the others because his tail was in the way….No wonder he was so eager to be in the middle of the cuddles piles now…

You reach out to Rafayel because he’s the closest. You crawl into his lap and he wraps his arms around you without question. His warmth seeps into you, and you sigh contently. 

“Forgive me,” Rafayel whispers into your hair, clinging to you tightly.

“I do.” You whisper, pulling away to brush your noses against each other, “I only mourn the years I didn’t get. I wish I could have known the whole time.”

You look over to Sylus, who sits stiffly nearby and you reach out to him. He looks at your hand with uncertainty, and when he reaches out to you, his touch is chaste. He doesn’t immediately lace your fingers together and pull you into him like he normally does.

“There is more to discuss.” Xavier says tightly from behind you.

You sigh and look over your shoulder, hoping that maybe the blond had forgotten what he’d heard. Alas, no such luck. 

“It can wait, right?” Rafayel says, sounding a little eager. He brushes his hands down your waist and lets them settle at your hips, “We should get some rest, right? Sylus has his minions guarding the place so there’s no risk of those Ever people. Nothing more important than sleep right now, I think.”

You shake your head, “No, it’s important. But you guys have to promise not to get mad.”

“That’s never a good way to start things.” Rafayel mumbles, disappointed his attempt to get you into bed was stopped once again.

Sylus is still silent, and you’re starting to worry that maybe he was already mad. 

You rise to your feet again, needing to separate from Rafayel so he doesn’t accidentally break you when you tell him. 

Xavier is simmering. Barely tempered with a lid over the rolling boil of a pot. He’s held his tongue for this long, and for that you’re grateful, but you know the second you spill the beans he’s going to have a lot to say. 

“So Caleb,” You begin, unsure of where to even start, “You guys know Caleb? We grew up together. And I guess, I was with Ever when I was really little and so was he! That’s why Gran took us both in. Which is…I think I told you that already. Well, he’s the reason I was able to escape. Which is why he was covered in blood when he showed up. Killed all of them, I guess.”

Rafayel leans back against the couch and tilts his head, “You’re rambling. Why are you rambling?”

“Hush.” Xavier hisses at him. Gnawing at the bit until you finally get to the point.

“So I thought he was dead, but he wasn’t dead. He was taken by Ever. He’s got a cool arm now, he’ll show you! And–” You clear your throat. Your hands are getting clammy now. “And I really care about him. He’s my friend, and so you have to promise not to kill him, ok?”

“Why would we kill him?” It’s Sylus this time. His voice is hoarse, and he doesn’t make eye contact with you when he speaks. 

“Because he’s from the past too.” You blurt as quickly as you can.

A tense silence falls, Xavier glaring at you to continue while Rafayel mulls this over with a wag of his head. 

“Oh well. Okay?” Rafayel drawls, unimpressed.

“Go on. Tell them.” Xavier bites and you have to look away from the murder in his sapphire eyes. 

“Caleb is the one who told Astra about the Sanctuary, and he added lines to Zayne’s spell.” You feel like you’re vomiting the words. Your stomach is rolling as you speak. It’s hard to fathom saying such a thing and then considering forgiveness afterwards. 

“ What!?” Rafayel roars as he jolts to his feet. Flames lick at his fingertips, an outburst of his Evol in response to his emotion.

Sylus is on his feet too, “You’ll have to repeat yourself, kitten. I don’t think we heard you right.”

Xavier rises to his feet slowly and his Lightblade shimmers into existence. He grasps it tightly and nods, “I’ll do it.”

“You knew?” Rafayel snarls, grabbing Xavier’s sleeve.

“He only knew for like ten minutes!” You shout in Xavier’s defense. “I only learned just now too. I didn’t have any idea that Caleb was even related to the past timeline. I couldn’t– It’s still hard to wrap my head around.”

“I don’t remember him at all.” Sylus says stiffly, crossing his arms, “Not even his scent is familiar.”

“Who cares? Some mortal snitched!” Rafayel hisses, and you can see a sharp blue tinge to his eyes. “Greedy pathetic things! Mettling in places they don’t belong!”

“You can’t kill him.” You say as sternly as you can muster. “What he did– It’s not forgivable, but you can’t–”

“And why not?” Xavier growls, “He took everything from us. Our home, our lives! That world is gone!”

“And what kind of world was it!?” You counter, “We were happy, but every season was a battle. We were surviving on hope and luck! Every year new mouths to feed! Sickness and famine and war! Death at every turn! If not Astra then some other villain would have uprooted us!”

“You cannot be serious.” Rafayel clicks his tongue and scoffs at you, “You cannot be defending him!”

“I am! I will!” You cry, “Just as I would any of you! I can’t forgive– not yet. But I want to try. I want to move on. I want to live and be happy. Is that so wrong?”

“He has to pay for what he’s done.” Sylus rumbles. There’s not outward rage in his body but his eyes gleam with it. The crimson of his irises is as red as the blood he craves to spill. 

“He will.” You reply, “I have an idea, and it’s not great. But I think it works.”

“You seem angry,” Caleb remarks as Zayne removes the blood pressure cuff from his arm.

“Why would I be angry?” Zayne asks sardonically. Pulling out a thermometer and forcefully pushing it beneath Caleb’s tongue. 

“I figure it’s because I got blood on your carpet.” Caleb mumbles around the thermometer. “Or because I faked my death. Either one.”

Zayne scowls at him, unamused by his joke. “Don’t talk anymore. You’ll mess up the reading.”

Caleb snorts and leans back, resting his palms on the bed and waiting until the thermometer beeps. Zayne grabs it and checks it, before wiping it with an alcohol wipe and putting it back in the kit.

“I did it for her.” Caleb says a bit softer, and Zayne’s movements pause for only a moment before he continues to pack away his medical supplies. “To protect her.”

“I know.” Zayne bites out. “But you didn’t have to live with the consequences.”

Zayne harshly zips up the duffel and picks it up.

“What’s that mean?” Caleb scoffs with a tilt to his head, “If you haven’t noticed, I’m living the consequences right now.” He wiggles his metallic fingers to make his point. 

“She believed you were dead.” Zayne says coolly. Always so stoic and calm, even when he was angry. “She shut down. Shut me out. Shut everyone out. Lost her job. Lost her home.”

“I know all that.” Caleb replies tightly.

“And now you hope to come back like nothing happened.” Zayne snaps, accusatory. 

Caleb stands up, and he’s taller than Zayne. Only slightly, but there’s an inch or two there that hadn’t been there for many years. As children, Zayne was always the taller one. He never bragged, but he did raise his nose once or twice when you were all measured for school. 

Even in this life, that feels like a million miles away. 

“I’ll atone for what I’ve done.” Caleb says stonily, “I’ll make it up to her. I’ll make it up to you.” 

Zayne huffs softly and shakes his head, “You’ve always been brash. Stupid even. But you didn’t do anything to me.”

“Didn’t I?” Caleb asks, and Zayne is left feeling confused for a moment. That is until you open the door. 

The two of them turn to you, and you’re a little in awe for a moment. It’s been so long since the three of you were in the same room. Funny, how it feels the same. Zayne and Caleb are facing off for one reason or another. Times change, but boy does it still rhyme.

“Come downstairs. We need to talk.”

"What ?” Caleb blurts in confusion. He’s sitting on the couch alone. Sitting like a child being scolded by his parents only it’s not a pair but five adults all glowering down at him. 

“Are your ears clogged?” Rafayel taunts, “She said you’re our new puppy.”

“I did not say that.” You add quickly, “I said you’re going to be the new housekeeper.”

“That is…” Caleb breathes and then shakes his head like his ears might actually be clogged, “Housekeeper? Pipsqueak that’s–”

“It’s perfect.” You say with a grin. “You can pay off your debt to us, and you’re still nearby! We can move some things downstairs and make you a bedroom down there, and I can give you my schedule. It’s pretty good, if I do say so myself.”

“I have a job,” Caleb adds tentatively. “With the Farspace Fleet.”

“Quit it.” Xavier adds with a smallest of vindictive smiles. “Effective immediately.”

“ Or,” You say, trying to remain diplomatic, “You can take an extended leave. Whatever you have to do. If you want to make it up to us–”

“And keep your miserable, pathetic life.” Sylus add ominously. 

“--and that.” You say with a sigh, “Then you give it up. This is your life now.”

Caleb looks up at you with shock. His eyes flicker over to the others for only a moment at a time. He swallows hard and then his shoulders slacken, “Does that include the house I have in Skyhaven?”

“You have a house in Skyhaven?” You ask.

“I bought it before the explosion.” He explains, “It was–” He clears his throat and says the next part very quietly, “It was where I was hoping we could live after, you know, I took care of Ever.”

“Sell it.” Xavier snaps. 

“Burn it down.” Rafayel says at the same time.

“Not that this flagellation isn’t amusing to watch,” Zayne speaks up, “But is that really necessary? You could rent out the property, use it for passive income during your leave.”

Bless him. Poor ignorant Zayne. You know Zayne isn’t fully aware of why Caleb’s being punished so severely, but what a good sport he’s being nonetheless. Maybe Zayne is a little more vindictive than you thought. 

“I can handle that.” Sylus says haughty. “We can add it to my residential management company. It’ll be in good hands.”

Caleb, with his hands resting on his knees, fidgets a bit, “Is that it then? I become your maid, and I’m okay?”

“Oh believe me, I’m sure we’ll have great fun together.” Rafayel huffs, crossing his arms, “ Don’t mess up the grocery order. If you buy the wrong fish, I’ll fry you.”

“This is your only chance.” Xavier says and it sounds like the condemnation from a king. Judge, jury, and executioner levels Caleb with a deadly cerulean glare. “There will be no second-chances.”

Despite the doom and gloom, you’re elated. Not only are you free from your housekeeping duties, but Caleb is here! It feels like the final piece of the puzzle. That is…if the puzzle was two boxes with different images dumped into one big pile and mixed together. 

“I’m going to sleep!” You say with a triumphant clap of your hands, “I’m going to sleep for twenty-four hours and if anyone wakes me up they’ll be the first to die!”

You go to leave and Caleb stands, “Wait, pipsqueak, what do I do?”

You pause, Xavier peering over your shoulder and glowering like a demonic shadow. The blond had been one step behind you– your eager napping companion. 

“Oh right,” You pull out your phone from your pocket and quickly send Caleb a copy of the lists of housekeeping duties. “You can get started!”

Caleb’s phone buzzes, and he examines the lists with a shell-shocked expression.

He’s still standing there when you walk away, and Rafayel waves at him as he passes to follow you. “Nighty-night puppy!”

<- Previous Next ->

[hyperfixationhobo]

Sylus: “You are just as bad as Rafayel.”

Caleb: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sylus: “I mean anytime MC leaves, you pout and sulk just like him.”

Caleb: “I don’t sulk.”

Sylus: “You’ve been sitting by the window ever since MC went shopping.”

Caleb: “It’s not sulking….I’m just waiting for them to return.”

Sylus: “You look like a dog.”

Caleb: “I do n-”

Rafayel: *Sprinting down the stairs.* “MC’s car just pulled up!”

Caleb: *Runs to the front door with Rafayel*

Sylus: “Dogs I tell you.”

[blackcatninja]

The guys bonding over their love for MC so they end up at least tolerating each other.

Overtime it starts to become something else. Each of them always had the idea of MC being the only one for them, but that seems to be changing.

Even Caleb eventually caves, despite being the most stubborn (not by much though).

Some interesting things about their little group go as follows:

- Every one of them has fallen asleep on Sylus at least once (he’s just that comfy)

- Xavier has fallen asleep on all of them

- Raf eventually grows on everyone, despite how annoying he might seem to them

- Zayne now has more people to care about and fuss over who are just as, if not more, prone to risk than MC

- Sylus and Raf eventually find out they’re both bonded to MC

- Caleb and Zayne have definitely kissed before

- Raf and Xavier certainly have something going on

[strifesolution]

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

(Read the main fic first!)

[fandom-multi]

These give me life

What have you been playing?

Characters: LADs x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Very slight spoilers for new event

Written: 11th February 2025

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.

Masterlist AO3

[lukazade]

Good morning!

[leighsartworks216]

Keep Going

Zayne x gn!Reader x Sylus

In my heart of hearts I fucking know Sylus has a thing for when Zayne speaks medical

Thank you @unknown-ends for inspiring this one cuz ough it lowkey consumed me

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Warnings: fluff, smut, polyamory, oral sex, kissing, biting, blow/hand job, cuddling, aftercare, banter, teasing, cum eating/swallowing, literal sleeping together, established relationship, licking

Word Count: 2,116

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third LADS Masterlists

AO3

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Zayne glares at Sylus. "What are you doing?" he hisses.

Sylus has the audacity to pull that smug grin on him, at the same time he pulls the blankets down Zayne's body, slips his hands under his pajama shirt to feel the lean muscle of his stomach. "You're having trouble sleeping - I want to help. It's as simple as that."

Zayne looks pointedly over at you, only a couple feet away, back facing him. You're fast asleep and completely oblivious to what's happening on the other side of the bed. "We could wake them up-"

"And?" Sylus leans down, eyes still locked on the doctor, to kiss just above his naval. "They can join in if they need a sleep aid." A brush of his teeth, just enough to have Zayne shuddering beneath him. "I'm happy to assist."

Zayne becomes momentarily transfixed by the sight of his partner. The warm glide of his hands as they push his shirt up to stay bunched under his pecs and hook fingers around his waistband to tug down the front of his sleep pants. His tongue follows the path of his happy trail, swirling around the fine hair and lapping hot and wet at his skin, all the way down to his pubic bone. No doubt Sylus can feel the growing need in his pants as it rises to bump lightly against his throat and chin, if the dark cloud shadowing his eyes is any indicator. Still, he can't help looking over at you again. If they were to accidentally wake you up, what would you think? What would you do or say? Would you be annoyed at them? Would you join them? Would you be completely indifferent? He tries to weigh every scenario, but it becomes increasingly difficult the more aware of Sylus's breaths fanning across his skin he becomes.

A hand reaches up to guide him back to looking down the length of his body, at the man straddling over his legs, now tucked partially under the blanket. "You can say no," he says, voice even and silently promising the dismount that comes with his honest refusal. "Or, you can tell me just why sucking you off will work to put you to sleep."

His ears flush red. He stares at Sylus, contemplating, weighing his options, for one breath - two. And then he nods, almost imperceptibly, swallowing down the saliva pooling in his mouth.

Quietly, in that steady, methodical tone he usually speaks in when discussing anything medical, he whispers, "During ejaculation, men release several brain chemicals."

Sylus hums, pleased, and sets quickly to work. He pulls his pants down, dragging his underwear with them, over his half-erect cock. He studies the veins and curve as he pushes Zayne's legs apart to settle between them. "Keep going."

"Norepinephrine, serotonin, oxytocin, vasopressin, nitric oxide, and prolactin, which has been-" His words choke off, caught by the delicate press of lips to the length of his cock. Several left in a row, from the base to the tip. Ruby eyes implore him not to stop. He lets out a shaky breath. "-linked to the feeling of sexual satisfaction."

His cock twitches to life. Sylus rubs the soft skin of his inner thighs, his hip, all while pressing those maddening pecks along its length. He ducks down, kissing down the underside of his shaft, down to the hanging weight of his scrotum. His large nose bumps up against his cock as he lazily sucks one of the testes, humming his satisfaction at the taste of Zayne's skin.

Zayne's fingers tangle in Sylus's hair, grasping lightly, though the strain in his hold shows just how much tighter he wishes to hold on. It's a fight against his self-control; his ability to stay even-minded in this moment. It's a losing battle when Sylus is his opponent, but one he fights nonetheless. Sylus reaches up to hold his other hand, fingers laced together, thumb stroking his scars.

"Prolactin levels are naturally higher during sleep, so it is likely that its release during orgasm leads to the feeling of sleepiness. Additionally, oxytocin and vasopressin, also released during ejaculation, are also associated with sleep, and frequently accompany the release of melatonin."

Sylus releases his testicle with a shimmering splotch of saliva. He licks up the entire length of his cock, all the way to the tip, now leaking precum in glistening pearls onto his stomach. His tongue dips into the slit, lips closing around it to suck daintily. Zayne grips tighter at his hair, cheeks flushed and breath heavier as he chokes out the final reason:

"Oxytocin is also t-thought to reduce stress levels, which could lead to relaxation and sleepiness."

Sylus squeezes Zayne's hand. It's all he can do to stay silent as the heat of his mouth engulfs his cock, head tossed back and teeth biting cheek to hold back the sounds in his throat. He stays there for a moment, too. Swallowing around the girth of his dick, flattening his tongue along the thick vein on the bottom, staring up at his partner's reactions. Long enough to have the fingers in his hair tighten further and tug, begging him to move.

He's slow as he pulls off. Teasing, savoring the moment, the weight and taste of his partner on his tongue. He hollows his cheeks and sucks down again. Rising and falling at a steady pace. Not fast, just enough to have Zayne breathing heavily through his nose and squeezing him with his thighs. The wet sounds seem far louder in the quiet of the bedroom, mixed with his breaths and the quiet sounds of pleasure that rumble in Sylus's chest.

You can't say for certain what it was that woke you up. If it was the noise, or the slight shaking of the bed, or just your subconscious latching on to what's happening behind you. Either way, you blink blearily into the darkness, turning over to see what's going on. The glint of Sylus's eyes flicker to you, amused. Zayne's eyes are shut, or far too lidded to see anything other than Sylus's ministrations on his cock. A warmth, little more than a match-flame, alights within you, but the exhaustion from the day is far greater than it. The usual arousal you'd feel when seeing your partners so intimate is instead replaced with adoration. Love for these two men you can call yours, joy at seeing them together despite the differences they've faced in the past.

Zayne startles when he feels the mattress shift under your weight. You close the distance between you and him, pressing your chest against his arm, cupping his cheek in your hand to turn his face toward you. He's flushed so bright, from embarrassment and arousal. "I apologize for waking you, I-"

You shush him softly as you kiss his lips. Where Sylus's mouth is heated and passionate in its actions, yours is languid and sweet, sleepy and lazy. He sighs with soft relief into your mouth, the tension of being caught melting away. Your thumb strokes over his cheekbones, fingers curling under his jaw, behind his ear, brushing the mess of dark hair with tender care.

Sylus pulls off of him with a pop, dipping his head to lick up the puddle of precum from his stomach. Zayne pulls away with a shuddering breath. He presses his face into your neck, and you run your fingers through his hair. "Our poor doctor here needed some help falling asleep," Sylus muses between licks.

You hum softly. Zayne's hair is so soft, even dampened slightly with sweat. You kiss his temple, eyes closed, at peace. "Was cuddling not an option?"

"Certainly not the first one that came to mind," Zayne retorts dryly. Sylus nips at his skin, eliciting a hiss from your partner. "We can take this elsewhere so we don't continue to interrupt your rest."

"Nmm, no, it's okay."

Sylus takes his hand from Zayne's thigh to hold your calf, rubbing affectionate circles into your leg with his thumb. "I would offer my services to you, beloved, but I don't think you'll need them."

You laugh quietly, cut off by a yawn. "Another night, maybe." You turn to look down at Sylus, Zayne still breathing in hot pants against your neck, his cock still painfully erect and needy, glistening with saliva and pre-spend. "Keep going."

There's no command, no force behind your words, but Sylus takes them as a strict order nonetheless. He smirks wickedly up at you just before he takes Zayne's dick back into his mouth, bobbing along the length.

Zayne lets out a strangled, choked sound. Devastatingly beautiful. You brush his hair back, tug lightly on the strands to pull him from your neck. His mouth finds yours straight away. Tongue licks needily at the seam of your lips, but he follows the pace you set without hesitation. The dynamic between the rhythm of Sylus's mouth and the caress of yours makes his head feel light.

Your hand trails down his neck, along his sternum, over his shirt, until you're able to slip it under the bunched up hem. It's all too easy to find the perky bud of his nipple. And oh so wonderful hearing the sounds he makes as you circle it with your fingers, press against it, pinch it, pull it. His fingers tighten in Sylus's hair for support. You barely pull away to leave light kisses on his top and bottom lip, mouth parted around his heavy breaths.

Sylus's hand leaves your leg. It glides over Zayne's hip before he wraps it around the base of his cock, his mouth focused on the swollen head. He tongues at the leaking slit and the ridge of the tip, fisting his cock up and down at a pace faster than his mouth moves. Zayne strains to watch even as the burning ecstasy in his abdomen contorts his face, growing overwhelming, determined to watch the final moments of his treatment.

You bury your face in his neck in turn, mouthing lazily at the soft skin there. You can feel the thrum of his heart against your lips. Fast and eager, waiting for the fall at the end of this cliff.

And fall he does. With strained, stifled whimpers, he cums into the hot mouth of your partner. Sylus's brows pinch together, eyes closing, as he takes the full heft of Zayne into his mouth again, his cockhead shooting cum against the back of his open throat. Zayne subconsciously rolls his hips up, chasing the friction, nearly making Sylus gag.

Sylus pulls off of his cock for the final time tonight. He's panting, trying to catch his breath around a swallow. His eyes are lidded with satisfaction, the blankets falling around him as he sits up to take in the beautiful sight laid out before him.

Zayne, hair a mess, skin shimmering with a thin layer of sweat, panting heavily, head tilted back with his eyes shut, trying to come back down to earth. And you, tracing lines and patterns against his stomach, nevermind the mess, eyes closed and content, nuzzling against his shoulder.

Sylus slips out, blankets pushed to the foot of the bed, and disappears in the bathroom. When he returns with a wet cloth, his lover's breaths have calmed down. One arm wraps around your back, holding you close, as the other sits empty at his side, as though waiting for Sylus's hand to fit within it once more. He watches sleepily as the mess on his stomach is cleaned up, shivering as the cold bedroom air chills the sheen of water left behind.

Sylus's warm, rough hands slip his underwear and sleep pants back up onto his hips. Slip his shirt back down with knuckles brushing down his abs, and draw the blanket back up. He leans down to press a soft, lingering kiss to Zayne's lips. The salty taste of himself on his lips sends a trill down his spine.

"Thank you," he breathes lowly into the space between them.

"Happy to help," Sylus responds with a teasing grin. He leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. You're already fast asleep. "Sweet dreams, snowflake."

Zayne watches the hulking figure of his partner leave the bedroom, unresolved bulge in his own pants. As he turns to the side to fully curl up with you, the heady scent of sex tickling his nose with your shampoo and Sylus's cologne, he thinks of all the ways he can return the favor in the morning. He falls asleep with images of Sylus's face pinched, head thrown back, mouth hinged open around guttural groans, and an invisible weight on his tongue.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @nothankyew @nezuswritingdesk @ssushi @mina7820 @monophobix @mentaltrouble2201 @mskaylacharite @nerrivm @ichosesparklingtorment @schnittled @animegamerfox @leiakitty

[1-delululand-1]

LaDS shenanigans

"What's my name in your phone?"

Includes: Zayne, Sylus, Rafayel, Xavier, & Caleb

Tw: implied poly relationship(s), slightly suggestive in Caleb's but not rly, Rafayel being a drama queen, fluff

M.List

Caleb

Rafayel

Xavier

Sylus

Zayne

[juiceeypeach]

𓆉 lads fic recs 𓆉

[★] peach’s pick

[♡] fluff

[𖤐] smut/suggestive

[☾] angst

[𖦹] crack

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ S 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

★ (UN)PROFESSIONAL. chuluoyi.

𖤐☾.

5.2k

master and servant. man and his right hand woman. you and sylus are labeled many things, but does love exist in many labels of your relationship?

★ JEALOUSY INCARNATE. chuluoyi.

♡𖤐☾𖦹.

3.8k

part two to STRICTLY (UN)PROFESSIONAL. more than friends with benefits, definitely lovers. your relationship is one filled with banters, steamy nights, and secret strings attached... but when someone shows an interest in you, sylus won't hesitate to stake his claim for everyone to see.

★ BANE OF EXISTENCE. chuluoyi.

♡𖤐.

unk. word count

part three to STRICTLY (UN)PROFESSIONAL. you and your lover are hailed and feared, but who would have guessed that behind closed doors, both of you are just that — lovers?

★ THE MAN & HIS LADY. chuluoyi.

♡𖤐☾.

unk. word count

part four to STRICTLY (UN)PROFESSIONAL. everyone acknowledges you as his woman, but how far will he go for you when he realizes you are in danger?

★ WINNERS KEEPERS. chuluoyi.

♡𖤐☾.

unk. word count

part five to STRICTLY (UN)PROFESSIONAL. you suspect something’s off when you catch your lover with the hunter girl, so you decide to give him the cold shoulder. his way of winning you back? trapping you in a bet—if he wins this underground fight match, you’re back to being his.

★ CATCH ME IF YOU CAN. chuluoyi.

♡𖤐𖦹.

unk. word count

part six to STRICTLY (UN)PROFESSIONAL. when your husband went away without so much as a proper notice, you thought you wouldn't forgive him so easily. but he tries everything to capture your heart back: spoiling and indulging you… little do you know that he expects a reward in return.

FORGIVENESS. poisonf0rest.

𖤐.

2.4k

reader ignores sylus and refuses to moan for him, after he playfully mocks her, so he does everything to get her to make noise in bed.

★ ERROR 404. ittybittyfanblog.

♡☾𖤐.

unk. word count, 10 chaps.

self aware!sylus au

BETTER THAN THE DEVIL. syluss-littlecrow.

𖤐.

2.9k

reader finds out that sylus has horns and that they are.. sensitive.

OBSESSED. tojicide.

𖤐.

4.6k

reader’s bodyguard is just SOOO obsessed with her.

PLEASE & THANK YOU. aeyumicore.

𖤐.

7.5k

what happens when you handcuff sylus to a bed?

KITTEN. rink-eko.

♡.

unk word count

sylus calls you kitten for a reason.

REMIND ME. tojicide.

𖤐.

6.1k

sylus finds out that you’ve moved on six months after your breakup.

★ SLEEP ON HIM. blueberrisdove-sideblog.

♡𖤐.

unk. word count

cockwarming sylus while you’re sleepy.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ Z 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

★ PLEASURE PRESCRIPTION. unintentionalseductress.

𖤐.

unk. word count

the hunter’s association deems that in order to keep stress levels low, hunters must participate in medical masturbation.

★ DISOBEDIENT WIVES. illou-sainte.

𖤐.

unk word count.

you tend to forget to put on your wedding ring and zayne punishes you for it.

★ EVERY ANSWER, ALWAYS. iraot.

♡.

5.2k

dr. “if my wife is an over thinker, i’ll be an over explainer..” zayne

HEARTBREAK ANNIVERSARY. mephisto-reporting.

☾.

unk word count

zayne had to cancel your anniversary dinner and it all goes downhill from there.

★ DOCTOR, DOCTOR. shouyuus.

𖤐.

3.3k

zayne participates in an antidote trial for a new underground love drug, the antidote is ineffective.

★ NOCTURNE TWILIGHT. chuluoyi.

𖤐☾.

8k

he is your husband and you are his wife. but of course you know the bitter truth—you will never be able to replace her..

DAWN’S FIRST LIGHT. chuluoyi.

♡☾.

8k

part two to NOCTURNE TWILIGHT. as dawn breaks, a new chapter begins. now husband and wife in the truest sense, both of you embark on the path of happiness together. yet, bittersweet loose ends remain still. will they eventually stay in the past for good, or cast a permanent shadow over your lives?

THE LADY WIFE. chuluoyi.

𖦹♡.

unk. word count

part three to NOCTURNE TWILIGHT. everyone knows dr. zayne is cool as a cucumber, and it's a given for him that you're known as his wife, but when a fresh-faced new resident seemingly makes a move on you... what will he do?

BODY SHOT. luvzayne.

𖤐.

5.9k

you HATE TA!zayne and he hates you.. you think.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ R 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

★ INTERDIAL ZONE. poisonf0rest.

𖤐.

6.7k

the nightly rendezvous card but from rafayel’s POV.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ C 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

ROTTEN TO THE CORE. latrespada.

𖤐.

6k

caleb punishes you due to his own jealousy from you being surrounded by men.

LIE. humanjarvis.

𖤐.

3.9k

caleb catches you in a lie and you suffer the consequences, immediately.

★ CUM HOME. aomiiine.

𖤐.

unk. word count

after being gone for service for almost a full year, your husband returns home.

GOOD ENOUGH. cinnamorollcrybaby.

𖤐.

unk. word count

caleb finds out you’re stringing along 4 other guys and makes it his mission to piss off xavier.

RUN AWAY. yandere-sins.

𖤐☾.

unk word count

caleb catches you trying to run away and uses his evol on you.

YOUR MAN. plutotheplum.

𖤐.

5.8k

caleb doesn’t like that your tutor is a guy.

EYES ON YOU. kutepil.

𖤐.

2k

caleb has hidden cameras all over his house so you decide to put on a show for him.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ X 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

POSSESIVE. slapmeshigaraki.

𖤐.

unk. word count

xavier gets off on you being jealous.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ MULTI/POLY 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

FLASHING. tbaluver.

𖦹𖤐.

unk. word count

flashing the LADS men during an argument. (separate)

COMFORTING. kirbmey.

𖤐.

unk. word count

couple, reader & sylus both want rafayel. reader x poly!crowfish.

BEST DREAMS. poisonf0rest.

𖤐.

7.5k

reader wakes up from a nightmare so rafayel comforts her while xavier sleeps next to them in bed. poly!starfish x reader.

SWEET DREAMS. sinstae.

♡𖤐.

2.7k

sylus and reader have a good time while zayne watches after a hard and long day. poly!snowcrow x reader.

★ FLAMES & SHADOWS. poisonf0rest.

𖤐.

10.6k

rafayel helps smuggle reader into the N109 zone not knowing it would lead you into sylus’ arms. while she is passed out, they both discover she has a past life with the both of them. poly!snowcrow x reader.

COOKOUT. chibichibi-mia.

𖦹♡.

unk. word count

when the lads boys get invited to the cookout. (separate)

BITING. oncasette.

♡.

unk. word count

how the lads men react to an s/o that bites them as a way of showing their love. (separate)

RAMBLINGS. alynnia.

♡ 𖤐.

unk. word count

long drabble of HCs for poly!crowfish x MC, but mainly CF.

SAY MY NAME. dadddybangtan.

𖤐.

3.3k.

xavier overhears reader & sylus together and wants to join in on the fun. starcrow x reader.

FRAT LADS. onacasette.

♡𖤐.

unk word count.

frat boy!LADS HCs

★ WHY CHOOSE. cinnamorollcrybaby.

𖦹♡𖤐.

unk. word count

poly!LADS x reader/MC series.

★ WELCOME HOME. lovegasmic.

𖤐.

unk word count

caleb is back in you life and he and zayne are back to fighting over you. poly!snowapple x reader.

ZAYNE TEACHING. deepspacenova.

♡𖤐𖦹.

unk word count

now that caleb is back and you & zayne are together, he has to learn from zayne all the things you like. poly!snowapple x reader.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ blurbs/drabbles 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ visuals 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

borders : dollywons

[the-dormant-ocean]

Sylus tried to defend MC's reckless behavior toward her health but it backfired on him because he is the same. If there is one thing Zayne doesn't take lightly, it's the health of the people he loves.

[thisisjustfanfic]

Early mornings…. 🐦‍⬛✨🍎☃️🐠

(Would I be able to sleep like this? No. Is it nice to imagine?? Yes.)

[hyperfixationhobo]

Caleb: “Why are you wearing rabbit ears?”

Xavier: I bought them yesterday. MC likes when I wear them.”

Caleb: “Hm, maybe I should get me a pair of them.”

Xavier: “No.”

Caleb: “No?”

Xavier: “Yeah, no. I’m called bunny for a reason. You’re not. I’m only allowed to wear bunny ears.”

Caleb: “Are you really getting jealous of the thought of me wearing rabbit ears?”

Xavier: “You can wear any other animal ears, just not bunny ones.”

Caleb: “That’s not fair.”

Xavier: “Not fair is you challenging people to an arm wrestling contest with your disguised robotic arm.”

Caleb: Ok but what if I buy the ears anyways?”

Xavier: “Then they’ll be set on fire.”

Caleb: “…”

Xavier: “I think dog ears will look good on you.”

Caleb: “I’m not wearing dog e-”

Xavier: “Might even buy you a collar.”

Caleb: “…”

Xavier: “Bet MC would love that.”

Caleb: “…”

Xavier: “Use the necklace they gave you for the tag.”

Caleb: “…where did you buy the animal ears?”

Xavier: “I’ll send you the link.”

[midiplier]

Everything about this made my night. 💕

Super self-indulgent addition to the poly series for my birthday!!! (Works as a standalone fic!) If you see this today you have to reblog, as a gift to me! And this fandom 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ *gets struck by lightning for my hubris*

Breaking Point

L&DS Boys X Reader

(No Caleb yet! I'm not confident in writing him and I wanna make sure I do it right! He'll be joining this series later though, for sure for sure...)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 / ?

Summary: I can't spoil the plot because it's a surprise but just trust me, ok? Look into my eyes! Right here! 👁️👁️ You want to read this. You really do.

Genre: Fluff + humour

Warnings/Additional Tags: gn!reader, platonic-ish! poly, some flirting, swearing, all the guys come with health warnings in this because like I said, it's self-indulgent! (I'm giving me everything I want 😌)

| Word count: 4.5k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You only have one life, and it’s Sylus’s to take.

He’s stalled. Denied himself the pleasure of snuffing it out, like he was always supposed to. You thought it was sentiment: a fondness that saw him shoot you with nothing more deadly than a wink or a smile, not that those weren’t their own, trivial little murder attempts. Now, he wants something permanent. Something that’ll stick.

His gun is pressed into your back, but you can’t resent him for it. If your gun was at his back, you would have already pulled the trigger.

“It isn’t too late to stop this, Sylus,” you mutter quietly, because the sentiment is there— no matter how deep he’s buried it. You’ll show it to him, even with raw hands and dirt under your nails.

You try to turn but the gun presses harder, urging you forwards like every other time you’ve attempted to slow or reason with him. “All’s fair in love and war, sweetie,” he says with a smile in his voice, and you wonder which one it is: that slow, nostalgic one, or the one he saves for his enemies. All teeth. All sharp. “You understand, don’t you?”

This is all your fault.

The dark, narrow corridor you’re being paraded down is coming to an end. It opens up into a larger room with abstract furnishings: block-like pillars and walls, lined with spidery strips of neon lights. They glow a weak purple, some flickering eerily. It’s still dark, and there are shadows everywhere.

Sylus swings you under a faint spotlight in the centre of the space. “I know you’re there,” he announces to the darkness, one hand on your shoulder, possessive.

There’s no response from the void. Can he hear something? A baited breath, somewhere out in the shadows, or a heartbeat, tripping over itself on adrenaline? You can’t hear a thing; the silence is too thick. Perhaps he made a mistake. Perhaps—

“What do you want, Sylus?” a voice calls out from behind a pillar— Zayne. By the time you look over, he’s pressed himself back against cover, out of sight, out of range.

“Let’s talk about this, yeah?” Rafayel, from behind a low wall.

Sylus tugs you closer: wraps you in a heavy arm so his gun is in front of you, angled inwards at your heart. He’s always loved a dramatic irony, even if it’s private— just for the two of you. “A Deepspace Hunter for a Deepspace Hunter,” he bargains. “More than fair, wouldn’t you say?”                                                                      

“You don’t have to do this, Xavier!” you shout.

“Ah, ah,” Sylus tuts, his warm breath tickling your ear: “Don’t be a hero, sweetie.”

More silence follows, but you know your fate is being decided in the dark. Amethyst eyes are pleading with peridot. Fire is trying to thaw ice. You can imagine the artist gesturing wildly, mouthing arguments, and the doctor solemnly shaking his head— ever trying to solve an unsolvable problem.

None of it matters, because Xavier is already stepping into the light. Hands up in surrender, weapon stowed at his side. His face is a storm and the flickering neon betrays it like lightning. Look— it warns. Divine violence.

Sylus’s hand tenses, ever so slightly, on your shoulder. You look at Xavier. He looks back at you.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this,” he says softly, and you’re in the centre of the storm, where it’s safe and it’s quiet and nothing outside can reach you, let alone hurt you. It won’t last, but it exists. You’re glad it exists.

“It’s okay,” you speak on a whisper.

You know how this has to end. Sylus can’t see it. Rafayel and Zayne— both peeking their heads out of cover— can’t see it either, but you? Of course you do. It’s an instinct: Deepspace Hunter to Deepspace Hunter, like Sylus said. Two edges of the same sword.

When Xavier draws his gun at light speed and shoots you with it, you’re the only one not surprised.

“What?” Sylus gasps as red spills over you.

But Xavier doesn’t stop. An onslaught: he fires relentlessly, aim not letting up for a second. His gun flashes over and over again and the sound is harsh on your ears as he closes in, indifferent.

“Sorry, sweetie,” you hear Sylus murmur, and then you’re shoved forwards— limp and useless— into the arms of your attacker.

Xavier catches you, his gun finally falling silent. The air had gone thick for a moment. Time had slowed. Space had twisted. A few, glistening crow feathers waltz around you, and you glance down at your vest. The lights on it have stayed red.

That was your last, stupid life. The digital counter on your gun is stuck at: ‘000’.

“Thanks,” you say to Xavier anyway, because you wouldn’t have struck the floor quite so gracefully as the feathers.

He’s frowning— staring after Sylus— but your voice brings him back to you. He looks down with a devastatingly handsome smile. “You’re welcome.” Then it’s gone. “And I’m sorry, too.”

“Wha—?” is all you manage to get out before you’re flung into another pair of arms. Xavier is running away; you can hear him. You can see him, in the corner of your eye: a pale shadow, giving chase after Sylus. Slipping into the labyrinth of spaceship-like corridors.

“Cutie?” Rafayel’s calling, and it must be his arms around you, squeezing you.

You want to answer— you’re going to answer— but then he drops to his knees, the fall making your head spin. You feel sick. “Cutie?” he tries again, and oh, him shaking you really isn’t helping.

“Raf, please— please stop.”

He doesn’t. “Stay with me, okay?” he urges, the red lights on your gear reflecting in his desperate eyes. He looks up at an encroaching figure. “Zayne! Do something!”

The doctor strides towards you, casting a nonchalant gaze over your body. When he speaks, it’s a bleak prognosis: “Last life?”

“Yep! Sylus already got me once. And before that, Raf—”

“Shhhh shh shh,” the man cradling you hushes, “don’t speak, cutie. Save your strength.”

“Shot me. He was pretending to be a spy,” you finish.

“I wasn’t!”

You huff. “Really? So I was just imagining you posing every time you rounded a corner? The forward rolls, all the spinning around and stuff— that was all in my head?”

“Guess so,” he shrugs. “It’s not my fault you fantasise about me being some kinda action hero, you freak.”

Your face is dark. “Zayne?”

An electronic gunshot rings out, and the lights on Rafayel’s vest flash red. He gapes down at himself, then glowers at Zayne as they return to their normal, lives-to-spare blue. The doctor shrugs guiltlessly, a slight tug at the corner of his lips.

Footsteps approach and your allies react: Rafayel cradling you tighter (definitely not using you as a human shield) and Zayne levelling his gun at a pitch-black corridor. The weapon drops as Xavier stalks out of it, his pace brisk and his presence commanding. “Status?” he asks, checking his Hunter’s Watch pointlessly. It’s a force of habit. You do it, too.

“We’re one hunter down,” says Zayne, his tone equally pragmatic. “Sylus?”

“Could be anywhere.” Xavier toes a crow feather with what you can only describe as disgust.

Okay… Rafayel’s grip is getting a little much, now. You feebly tap at his hand, but he’s too busy glaring up at your team leader to notice. “How could you?” he mutters under his breath, deliberately loud.

Xavier spares him a glance. Then you, finally. “I did what I had to.”

“What you had to?” Rafayel’s voice is dangerous. “What you had to?”

Just as you’re thinking about how touching his loyalty is, he drops you the rest of the way to the floor. You lie there, stunned, staring up at the ceiling. The artist stands, then— yep! Steps over you completely. “You’ve gone too far this time, Xavier! You don’t get to choose who lives and who dies.”

He’s thrashing about in an uncaring ocean. Xavier’s eyes are calm. “Don’t I?”

You didn’t know challenges could be issued so softly. Rafayel stares in disbelief, then looks to Zayne for back-up: are you seeing this?

The doctor is quiet as he diagnoses the situation, trying to find the path of least resistance. There has to be a middle ground. A way to appease fire without burning his hands.

His hazel eyes fall on you, and you get the feeling you’re the answer. He comes to stand over you. Crouches down beside you, head low in respect as he takes your hand and squeezes it gently, like he’s savouring a warmth that’s ebbing away.

“Zayne…?” you breathe. You don’t quite know what’s happening.

He releases a breath too, for your voice is a memory and he’ll treasure it, always. His spare hand lifts to cup your cheek, and he meets your eyes with unequivocal devotion. It isn’t innocent. It’s dark.

“We will avenge you,” he vows.

…

It’s nice, being dead.

You can meander aimlessly. You can hum to yourself recklessly.

You don’t have to poke your head around each corner, giving signals that the coast is clear or unclear because Xavier decided— worryingly early in the game— that it was you who should always go first. Step into the open, maybe even a firing line. Sylus will hesitate, he’d insisted, his hands on your shoulders and his eyes boring into yours intensely. You’re his weakness. Exploit it.

You’d nodded, wide-eyed, unsure of what else to do with someone gripping you like that.

What would Xavier say now, you wonder, if he saw you— Sylus’s infamous weakness— watching the man with a tender smile? His scarlet gaze is distracted. He hasn’t noticed you yet. Well, he has, but he’s pretending he hasn’t. He’s busy: crouched behind a wall, peering over it cautiously.

You saunter over. “What’s the plan here, Mr Lone Wolf?”

“Quiet.”

“Mr One Man Army. Mr ‘I don’t need a team, sweetie, I could beat you all with my hands tied.’”

Sylus gifts you a sideways smirk. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“Come on, Sy—” you perch back on the wall he’s using for cover— “death can’t keep us apart. Y’know what that makes me?”  

“Insufferable.”

“Nope. A ghost,” you correct, and the man smiles more widely. It’s still nowhere near enough attention, so you wiggle your arms at him, adding an “ooooooooh!” for good measure.

“You don’t scare me, sweetie.”

Oh really? You study your nails. “You ever think about how if you’d died before you met me, Luke and Kieran would’ve had full creative control of your funeral?”

Sylus’s smile fades the more that image sinks in. “Fine,” he shrugs, “you scare me a little. Now—” he stands to his full height, giving your head a pat— “off to heaven with you, ghost.”

You’re interfering with his mission, you know.

He strides away purposefully, and you can tell he’s enjoying this. The unfair odds. The chance to show off. At last, some enrichment for the wanted criminal who holds your bags while you’re shopping. (Not that he doesn’t enjoy that, too.)

He’s checking over his gun with a customary glance, and the way he moves is addictive; what he’s wearing doesn’t help. A black compression shirt stresses each muscle of his arms and back— the fabric fighting for its life. If you could buy it a drink for its service, you would. You’d buy it ten.

“Yeah…” you exhale, head sideways, gaze low. “I don’t think heaven’s quite where I’m headed.”

Sylus stops.

He turns with a follow-up question, but it never needs to be asked. You’re still shamelessly staring— explaining yourself with faraway eyes and a bottom lip that’s trapped by your teeth. It’s deliberate, of course. Just like you know that shirt was deliberate.

The man’s head tilts in warning. “Careful, sweetie.”

Were his tone a blade he could pin to your throat, he’d know just the right pressure to make your heart stutter. Not too much. Not too little. But he needs to push harder, these days; you’re awfully comfortable at the edge of that knife, and there’s sin in the way you watch him, like you don’t care if you’ll bleed for it.

It pulls him back to you, tantalisingly slowly. A finger lifts your chin, forcing your gaze back to his eyes. “I said, careful,” he repeats, making every word drag.

That gaze sinks low again. An act of defiance; it doesn’t quite reach his body. It stops at his lips.

He leans in closer.

There’s a sound somewhere down the corridor, and a gunshot rings out. Sylus’s arms are around you— a swirl of his Evol stealing you both from reality. You rejoin the world a loud heartbeat later, in a different room, far away from the last. Crow feathers tumble. The scarlet mist dissipates.

Sylus’s vest is flashing red, and he looks at you, betrayed, as it turns back to cobalt.

That’s two lives down, one to go; you’d stolen the first when he’d taken you hostage. “All’s fair in love and war, Sylus,” you smile, untangling yourself from his grasp. “You understand, don’t you?”

You go to leave, but his hand is on your wrist. He pulls you back, and it would be much more threatening if he wasn’t chuckling so fondly. “My team next time?” he asks, kissing the very top of your head.

You sidle away, his hand forced to surrender you. “Maybe,” you grin at him over your shoulder. “I’m in pretty high demand.”

…

“Raf, Raf, Raf!” you chirp, skipping over to the lilac-haired artist.

“Cutie, cutie, cutie!” he chirps back. “Afterlife’s fun, huh?”

“Even more fun now you’re here.” He’s sat on a fallen pillar, arms by his side, legs stretched out. His face is lit by the glow of his vest: a faint but vivid red. Like an ember. “My condolences, fishie.”

He snorts. “Thanks.”

“Gonna tell me what happened?”

Rafayel rolls his head back— a listless sort of stretch. “Xavier shot me. Said I’m a ‘liability’,” he shrugs.  “That I ‘compromised the integrity of the mission.’”

That was a lot of air quotes. “Pretending to be a spy again?” you hazard.

“Nah.”

Ooh! “A gunslinger!”

He’s still staring at the ceiling, but he sighs dreamily, eyes closing. “You know me so well.”

You take a seat next to him, trying not to giggle at the thought of him strutting about in front of Xavier, tipping an invisible hat while the Hunter slowly raised his gun. Gods, how brutal; you hope it was quick. A tiny laugh breaches your lips, and Rafayel opens an eye in suspicion.

You smile innocently. The eye closes again, satisfied. “You’d make a hot cowboy. Or spy.”

“I know,” he breathes out. That was never up for debate. “Which is hotter, though?”

Hmm… You scooch away from him, making a viewfinder with your fingers so you can squint at him through it. His eyes flicker open and he catches on, flashing a smile as he shoots you with a finger gun. “Spy,” you conclude.

“Noted.” His chuckle is warm and wistful.

“So… got any good intel for me, super spy?”

He hums like he has to think about it. “Xavier’s got some big plan to beat Sylus. Wouldn’t tell me what it was, on account of the whole ‘liability’ thing? But yeah, it’s big.”

“How big can it be? It’s laser tag.”

“I think I can shed some light on that matter.”  

It’s a third voice, and the intrusion makes you jump. Rafayel, too, but he’d never admit it. You both glance outwards, to where Zayne is wandering over to you. His walk is relaxed. His gear is red.  

“That line would’ve been way cooler from Xavier,” Rafayel whispers.

“So cool!” you whisper back. Zayne can clearly hear every word, so you’re quick to deflect with a: “Hey, Zayne! What happened to you?”

You know what happened— there’s an obvious, kinda horrifying pattern emerging— but you still need to hear it. Zayne shifts on his feet, looking down at the ground as he finds the right words. “I… was a liability,” he says at last.

“Oh, nice!” Rafayel’s hand shoots out. “Join the club!”

Zayne stares at it blankly, but gives in eventually. His hand meets the artist’s in the least inspiring high-five you’ve ever seen.

“How were you a liability?” you chase up, because it’s harder to picture your stoic doctor prancing around like a secret agent.

Zayne rests his gun back on his shoulder. “I was trying to be a voice of reason.”

There’s a low, sympathetic whistle from Rafayel. “That’ll do it! There’s no reasoning with those levels of crazy.” He looks at you. Interrupts before you can leap to your partner’s defence: “Like, how invested are you in Sylus?”

What the hell’s that supposed to mean? “… A lot?”

Rafayel winces, drawing air through gritted teeth. “Yikes.”

He��s messing with you. He’s messing with you, right? You look up at Zayne— calm, cool, collected Zayne— your anchor in all this insanity. He meets your gaze, and you wait for that smile of reassurance: the one he always manages, even when you’re bleeding out before him, courtesy of a Wanderer you underestimated. Everything will be fine.

He shakes his head discreetly.  

Everything won’t be fine? Oh.

…

“Sylus!”

You sprint down a corridor, your teammates hot at your heels and your breath ragged from running. This place really is a maze, and it’s not like Sylus wants to be found. No— your red-eyed damsel-in-imminent-distress is still marching around out there, oblivious. Avoiding you? Probably.

That’s when you see it. You skid to a stop, Rafayel almost crashing into you.

Perched on a nearby ledge, Mephisto is watching you, head cocked. His mechanical eyes narrow, and there’s no usual caw of greeting. You’re witnessing a professional at work. A crow on a mission, just like his master. You wander over, looking up at him. Then you snatch him down from his pedestal.  

“Listen to me, Mephie,” you conspire as he squawks and wriggles. “Get Sylus, okay? It’s urgent. We have to speak to him.”

You set the bird free, launching him up into the air so he can take forth your message, but he nosedives to the ground, landing in a sorry-looking heap, instead. The little pile of feathers moves. Seems to find its feet, then… keels over sideways with a final squawk. Huh.

“You killed it,” Rafayel observes from behind you.

“I did not!” You crouch down, giving the frozen crow a poke. “C’mon, stop being dramatic! Get up.”

No reaction. Rafayel sings eerily: “Deaaad…”

You scoop Mephisto into your hands and he melts into them. A wing hangs down, and his head hangs backwards, too. You give him a shake. Nothing happens. Standing up, you turn, “Zay—?”

“I’m not a mechanic.” The doctor’s arms are folded.

But you’re looking at him, hope in your eyes and a faint— absolutely not fake— wobble to your lips, so he takes the crow reluctantly. He lifts the fallen wing. Examines the sharp black feathers and plates of metal. “Is there an off switch you might have pressed?” he ponders aloud. “Or…?”

“It’s at the back of his neck,” a voice that isn’t yours answers.

You’re suddenly clutching feathers; Zayne has shoved Mephisto back into your hands. “I don’t—” you try to resist— “no, don’t give him to—!” You try to hand him back, but Zayne is stepping away.

There’s a presence, looming. “Hey, Sy!” You spin around with a smile.

The man you’ve been searching for stares at you, an eyebrow raised. “Killed Mephisto, did you?”

“Uhhhh, no? It was Rafayel.”

A squeak from behind you: “What!?”

Mercifully, Mephisto springs to life— fluttering away so he can perch on Sylus’s shoulder. He coos, leaning in to nuzzle the finger that lifts to stroke at his beak. Then he caws at you, over and over, like a manic sort of laughter. That stupid bird’s been spending too much time with the twins.

Sylus looks between the three of you, his eyes falling on each red vest in turn. He smiles languidly. “Been playing spy again, little artist?”

“Nope.”

“Cowboy,” the older man guesses again.

Rafayel is silent, his arms crossing defensively. Sylus chuckles, and just as you’re about to scold him, he holsters his weapon with… flair? And tips an invisible hat in the artist’s direction. Rafayel smiles. “How might I be of service?” Sylus asks you, still roleplaying.

Adorable. Focus! “We came to warn you, Sy. Xavier’s—”

“Totally lost it,” Rafayel cuts in. You glare at him and his eyes protest: What!? It’s true!

“We should stick together,” Zayne says. “At least until we can figure out what he’s—”

The lights around you go dead.

No more spotlights, no more stripes of neon; you’re submerged into darkness. The only remaining glow is your vests— three red, one blue— all ominously still. Afraid to move. As your eyes adjust, you can just about make out the others’ faces. Rafayel and Sylus are glancing around, wary, but Zayne’s uneasiness is different.

“Phase one,” he mutters gravely.

You don’t like that. “What’s phase two?”

Please know. Please know. He looks at you. Gives another one of those little head shakes.

At the far end of the corridor, a spotlight flickers to life. You all watch, caught in a spell of suspense as it illuminates nothing— an empty space where you half expect some spectre to be. It goes dark a second later. Then the next spotlight lights up, closer. It goes out. The next one lights. Goes out. Lights.

Light. Dark. Light. Dark.

“What the fuck?” Rafayel murmurs, standing closer than before. His hand finds yours, and you’re actually grateful. You hold it, tight.

“Stay behind us,” Zayne directs at Sylus.

A much, much closer spotlight turns on.

Xavier stands beneath it, deathly still. Every bit the spectre you’d imagined: you can’t quite tell if he’s of heaven or hell. He might have walked out of either. He might drag you to either. It’s that look again: the one he wore before he killed you. Inevitability. It lives in his gaze. There’s no running from it. No pleading with or changing it.

“Enough,” Sylus growls, pushing past you, raising his gun. He pulls the trigger, and the sound of the shot rings out. Nothing comes of it, though. The weapon doesn’t flash. Xavier’s vest doesn’t flash.

The Hunter tilts his head— another challenge, soft as sleep.

Sylus presses the trigger a second time, then a third, a fourth, a fifth. Though his weapon looks like a gun— pierces the silence like a gun— it isn’t one, is it? It’s a vessel. For infrared light.

Now you think of it, this game was rigged from the start. It must dawn on Sylus, because he stops. He tears the gun from its cord and lets it skitter across the floor, no more useless there than it was in his hands. Energy crackles around his fingers, thick like sticky, red blood.

“Sylus,” Zayne warns, but there are tentative snowflakes at his fingertips, too.

Xavier steps closer, mirroring Sylus— throwing his gun aside with a crash. A delicate twist of his hands and a blade is unsheathed from the darkness. Pure light, holy and sharp. He spins the sword with a practiced elegance and it’s admittedly mesmerising. You can’t not watch.

Rafayel wriggles his fingers free of yours, then steps in front of you. You’d never tell him, but his hand had started to burn.

You hadn’t missed this— this tension. So full of tempered things, meant to hurt.

White light floods everything, everywhere, and you have to shield your face with your hands. The others are doing the same, groaning, hissing curses; even Xavier is wincing as he stares at the ceiling.

This isn’t his doing. Isn’t his light.

…

“Who needs that place?” Rafayel grumbles, plucking a fry up from Xavier’s plate and poking it past his lips so he can chew on it with his thoughts. “I mean, I’ve got a private island!”

“And I’ve got guns,” Sylus smiles.

You look up. “Laser tag guns?”

He blinks at you. Nods agreeably: “Sure, sweetie.”

“I’m sure we can buy some.” Zayne is stirring a chocolate milkshake, and he stoops to take a sip.

The four of you are huddled around a table outside a fast-food place, conveniently next door to the laser tag place you’ve just been kicked out of. There’s a board in there, now graced with colourful mugshots of you all, and not everyone looks miserable in them. Sylus is smirking in his, an old hand at notoriety. Rafayel is winking, making finger hearts.

Xavier is still inside, arguing your case with the manager— appealing the whole ‘lifetime bans’ thing— and his food is getting cold. You slap away Rafayel’s hand as it goes in for another fry.

“You’ve got your own, Raf!”

“So?” His hand is quicker this time, dodging yours and whisking three fries away from their friends before you can stop him. “They taste better stolen. Everyone knows that.”

Sylus hums in accordance as he steals a fry for himself. Vultures.

They all nibble away at their food— sometimes Xavier’s food— and you know you’re all thinking about the same thing. That corridor, those flickering spotlights, and the Hunter commanding them. You’ve not really talked about it, yet.

“Y’know,” you muse, “I’ve never seen Xavier like that before. Don’t you think it was kinda…?”

Rafayel bonks your head with a rolled-up menu. “Stop.”

Zayne snatches it from him gently. Flattens it out again and sets it neatly down on the table. “He is right though,” he sighs. “Stop.”

You giggle. “Hear me out, though—”

“Ah! There you are!”

Two figures approach your table, and the voice is very familiar. Twenty minutes ago, it was yelling at you.

It’s the manager of the laser tag place, and he stands before you, hands on his hips and a smile on his wizened face. “I’m glad I found you,” he continues, “your friend and I have just been talking. He explained everything. Who’d have thought, huh? An invisible Wanderer, messing with the lights like that! Destroying my equipment! Anyway, it was so kind of you to get rid of it.”

He pats Xavier’s shoulder, praises: “What a nice young man!”

“It was our pleasure, sir.” Xavier tips his head in respect as Sylus sniggers.

The manager’s too enamoured to notice. “Anyway,” he turns to the rest of you, “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. It goes without saying that you are welcome back, anytime! My treat, of course!”

You all glance between each-other as Xavier thanks the man for his kindness, then waves him goodbye with a genuine warmth. The manager trundles away, leaving your little banquet in peace.

Xavier smiles so fondly, his gaze an azure sky. There’s not a cloud in it, just a bright, radiant sun.

Your budding support group is speechless.

“So,” Xavier beams at you all, “who wants to go again?”

[sylviewrites]

The Soul Remembers · Rafayel × Reader × Sylus | Navigating relationship. Fluff. Poly.

Rafayel doesn't know how he ended up forming a bond with a law abiding hunter and a fellow wanted criminal.

He was drunk, a couple of bottles of wine reducing him to a slurring, needy mess. He was draped all over [Name], who was cuddling him warmly, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she cradled his head. It was such a comfortable position that he almost fell asleep right there and then.

But fate had other tricks up it's sleeve, because just when he was about to doze off, he appeared.

One thing led to another and before he knew it, both he and Sylus were sandwiching [Name] in her bed, drifting closer to each other as much as possible.

He thought Sylus was going to get possessive, such was the nature of a dragon, never forgiving. He himself was a little jealous when he witnessed how he handled his starfish, with so much gentleness and longing... something that no matter how much her tried, he would never do.

Maybe it was wishful thinking talking, but he wondered how they knew each other so intimately. He wondered, and wondered and wondered, until after months of tiptoeing around each other, he found his answers.

Heartbreaking.

He wished he never asked, he wished the man before him, who was always so imposing and frustratingly annoying, to stop looking as if the world has burned him out.

He wished [Name] would never remember what she had to go through. He wished her kind heart would remain untainted, and so he shouldered that secret for her, knowing that her soul will always remember despite the lack of memories.

He could see it with they way she clung to Sylus every time she said goodbye, with the way her gaze lingered on him with desperation at the most random of times.

He saw it every time she showered himself with affection, so much so, every single day, as if she was regretting not doing so earlier.

Yes, the soul remembers.

"Come here," he told the taller man one night at his house, lounging at the couch with [Name] sprawled over his chest.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, a teasing tilt already forming on his lips. "Oh? What is this? You want me to join you in your nightly adventures, fishy?"

Rafayel actually scoffed out a genuine laugh, shaking his head, beckoning him over with a bend of his fingers. "We both felt a little lonely earlier."

There, he'd done it. Sylus crimson eyes flickered, and he looked like he couldn't move for a second. His gaze went from him to her and back again, until his shoulders dropped in relief.

"My apologies," he chuckled, shedding his leather jacket and his boots, leaving him with his usual black t-shirt. "I hope my absence wasn't that difficult for you two to deal with."

"Hmm... it was," [Name] mumbled as she snuggled closer to Rafayel's chest, cracking an eye open when she felt the cushion dipping. She watched with soft eyes as Sylus laid his head on Rafayel's stomach, right besides hers. She gave him a small smile when he turned to face her, and she couldn't help herself when she placed a adoring kiss on his lips.

"Welcome home, Sy."

Rafayel hummed, his hand launching on those soft silver traces, his other hand preoccupied with rubbing circles comfortably on her back. "Welcome back, handsome."

Sylus looked at them with unusual gentle eyes, before he closed them, leaning his forehead into hers, indulging in the sensation of the lemurian's touch. "Mm, right there..." he sighed, wrapping an arm around [Name], hugging Rafayel too by default.

It will take some time to get used to that, Rafayel thought with fondness, his own eyes closing, and the murmur of the tv lulling him to sleep warmly between his partners.