#that being said I've spent so much money on this game all for Sylus

[anto-pops]

fellow lurker here that is very excited to see you playing LaDS 🤤 is sylus your flavor of the month or do any of the other LaD boys have your heart?

I see tons of people talking about how they feel like they're being unfaithful to their previous LI's following Sylus' release and all I have to say is THANK GOD I only downloaded the game for him because Rafayel would have captured my soul without Sylus there to grab it first LMAO

I do love them both though, Sylus is #1 in my heart but Rafayel's brattiness and neediness is endearing

[astracora]

Happy Newdawn Day!

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc (featuring Nero, Tara, Simone, Greyson, Yvonne, Jeremiah, Thomas and Caleb (mention only))

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5797

Written: 1st January 2025

Notes: Established relationship with gn!MC (using Cat Curse MC) with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. I'm so sorry this got away from me so much I feel baffled by it. I just had to get it down, it's so messy and not beta-read, but I love them all so much. (I'm also sorry for the ending, I got possessed by Caleb's not-ghost). So enjoy... the first actual fic I've written for the Poly!LADs and not just smaus... Now I need to eat.

Masterlist AO3

If someone asked you right now, “Hey, a year ago did you think you’d be stood here?”

Well, you’d have given some incredulous notion of being alive, let alone stood in one of Linkon’s Parks, taking in the sight of your loved ones.

Most of them, anyway.

If, upon meeting Xavier, Rafayel, Sylus and Zayne (again), someone had said, “Hey in a years time they will be the most important people to you.” You’d have laughed in their face. The idea as absurd as it is invigorating… because they are. The most important people in the world to you. The companions you trust to have your back in combat, the people you want to see most when you wake up, the lives you most want to share.

You think back to a hazy childhood, told your heart could give out any minute. A timeline unknown, the nature of your condition hard to track. The core in your chest, a question no one had the answer to. Giving up on a future, on meaning anything.

You think back to days spent in the hospital, for your heart, for injuries gained from fights that even Caleb couldn’t help piece back together, for the arm you lost. Wondering if you were going to hit the wall eventually.

When you lost Caleb, your partner in crime, and rock, you’d expected the tides to rise. Sinking you.

It was folly to misjudge those around you. Kindness, warmth and love, with some degree of greed. Of course they’d grabbed your hand, pulling you back to land. Wrapping you in a towel, bringing you to heat, keeping you shielded against the chill.

The wounds healed, though they left scars behind, but you could breathe again. 

That troublesome little heart beating harder, hope as a lifeblood. Bringing you forward, keeping you moving.

All the way to a new year.

Between the five of you, the gathering had bloomed out for Newdawn Day.

You’re not sure how Rafayel and Sylus had gotten permission to rent out an entire park. Money had to be involved, you also wouldn’t be surprised if threats came into play too. Though you hope not.

You’d been decorating all morning. Flowers, bunting, balloons. Tables set up with food, drinks and an entire section set up with photobooth equipment and props. After all, you’d spent far too much of this year taking photos, what better way to commemorate the end of it.

Xavie’s barbeque has reopened, with Sylus keeping a watchful eye… or being an interference. It was hard to tell.

Rafayel has taken to making drinks, you weren’t sure where he learned how to mix cocktails, but you’re happy to leave him to it. Watching as he makes non-alcoholic ones for Zayne as well.

You sit with Tara and Simone, watching the people around you.

“I can’t believe we’ve been hunters for a year now.” Tara nudges you, grin on her face. Her cheeks are slightly pink, eyes glittering as she leans her head on your shoulder. “I’m so glad we joined together.”

The fidgeting in your chest is ticklish, and you let out a soft laugh under breathe, “Yeah, me too Tay.”

Simone leans back in her chair, stretching her arms out behind her, as she balances on the back two legs, “We’ve been really busy, I bet it’ll get worse too.”

Tara groans, “Come on Omi…”

A bark of laughter is the response as she rights her chair, leaning forwards, “Hey, it’s fine, we’ll be working at it together.” Poking Tara in the forehead, she laughs again.

As she rubs the offending spot, Tara looks over at where Nero is chatting to Xavier, “Can’t believe Nero came, he doesn’t really enjoy these kind of things.”

“Yeah, no offence but I think he likes Wanderers more than us.”

You laugh, it’s not incorrect. You think about meeting Nero, about the shy man who is a living encyclopedia about wanderers, who could talk for hours about Lumiere. You also think about how isolating it is not to share things you enjoy with others, not knowing how to approach people because they think you’re weird.

Odd.

Not fitting in.

You think about how the first time you’d engaged with Nero’s conversation, his eyes had lit up and he’d leaned forwards so far in his chair he’d fallen out of it.

You think about how he attached himself to Xavier, just because the man listened, calm, even if he didn’t always have much to say in response.

Didn’t make him feel like an outsider.

Pride fills your chest even though Xavier’s personality has little to do with you. You still find yourself loving him more for his warmth. His acceptance.

The sleepy smile on his face when he assures someone he has no problems hearing them.

“There’s no Lumiere specials running today,” Simone is talking, looking at her phone, “maybe the size of the gathering and that mixed together to make a Nero appearance.”

“Plus, Xavier.”

“We should have invited Jenna!” Tara exclaimed, grabbing your arm, pulling it. You think that maybe Raffy put a little too much rum in her daiquiri.

“Do you think she would have even come?”

You think about Sylus over by the grill, arms folded and canines on show in his smirk, “I think maybe next time, I’m sure we can invite her next time.”

When the stress of having hunters in the same area as Sylus isn’t quite so high, when you’re not constantly worried about tripping up with his name. When you don’t have to sit and debate if inviting him is worth the risk, despite loving him and wanting him there. Wanting to see him outside of his world of violence and strain.

You’re not sure how much Jenna knows, but it’s not worth pushing a brick in an old wall.

“You should check on those kids though.” Simone reaches over to turn your head, to where to twins are milling around by the dessert table. You can see them fidgeting. Hand twisting in their hoodie pockets. “Either they really want some cake, or they’re uncomfortable.”

You are standing before she’s even finished talking, worry twisting at you like a snake around your chest.

Tara releases your arm and nudges you forwards, grin on her face, “It’s Simone’s turn to get drinks anyway.”

The woman laughs, twisting the end of her ponytail around her finger, “They’re free, this is the easiest set of rounds I’ve ever had to get.”

Your laugh is soft, and warm, and so heavy in your heart, but you lean down to kiss the top of Tara’s head as she smiles so happily up at you, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See ya bestie!”

Simone returns the salute you offer, and you let your feet carry you to the twins.

They’re wearing their crow hoodies again, but with party hats over the hoods. Kieran’s scars are visible, his hood pushed back so you can see his eyes. They’re wavering, unsure. Darting around the place. It’s less controlled, but he looks so much like Sylus does that you pause.

Worried. They’re worried.

Of course they are, there’s hunters here, people who pose some… degree of threat to the person they care most about, other than each other.

Luke is fidgeting, bouncing on the heels of his feet, like he doesn’t know where to put all the pent up energy. You can tell the two are in a feedback loop. Feeding off each others anxieties.

As you approach, they seem to halt, for a moment. Looking at each other, then at the cakes, then at you. Seconds, and then Luke forces a grin. “Hey Hunter!”

Your head tilts as you watch them, Luke pushing his hood back a little so he can look at you properly.

“You’re wearing them again?” It’s an easier question, than the one you want to ask.

“Of course! They’re comfy.”

“Boss keeps pulling them off us to wash them.” Kieran pouts at you, the expression pulling at the scar over his cheek, “Aren’t clothes meant to be worn?”

It’s hard not to laugh at them, they remind you of kids far younger than they are sometimes. Other times the darkness lingering in their gaze is reminiscent of one you’ve seen in your own. In Sylus’… In Rafayel’s.

There’s a sickening in your stomach, that you have to move on from quickly, lest it start to burn like acid.

“You have to take care of them, clean them, and they’ll last longer.”

Kieran rubs his chin, and the laugh comes out this time. They really have picked up so many traits from Sylus.

It gives you some courage, to focus on their expressions, and force through the feeling that always comes, “Are you two ok? You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

Luke blinks, fidgeting stopping, and droops, “No.”

Kieran nudges him, “He means, no we’re fine.”

“You don’t have to lie.” You move to the table, and despite knowing they haven’t eaten a proper meal yet, you slice some sponge cake and shove it into their hands on little paper plates. “Eat.”

You feel like Zayne is in front of you for a moment.

Eat, then talk about how you’re feeling.

You’re not sure the cake fixes the feeling of struggling through your feelings, but you do know that the distraction of sugar, gives you a moment to ground on something real. Tangible.

The twins take the plates, looking down at them, and then back up at you.

“You don’t have to stay, anywhere you don’t want to be. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You don’t have to pretend, or lie, or act a certain way.”

You’re relieved when they take the plates, even happier when Luke shoves some in his mouth. He doesn’t bother with the fork, just grabs it. Kieran pokes at it for a moment, before following in his brother’s footsteps.

“There’s a lot of people.” Kieran finally speaks, twisting his fork in the sponge.

“You can borrow my noise cancelling headphones if you like? I’m sure Zayne has his too.”

Luke shakes his head, “Not like that. Too many possible threats.” He winces, “Sorry, they’re your friends.”

You sit on the table, carefully avoiding cake as you look at the two, “They’re my friends, they’re strangers to you. It’s alright.”

“We just feel weird. On edge.”

“Do you want to go back to the base, somewhere safer? Or home?”

The two shake their heads in sync, frowning more, “No. We want to be here. With boss. To celebrate.”

“So how can I help?”

The expression they shoot back is another you’ve seen on Sylus’ face. But their eyes are wider as they blink at you, their faces younger. Their cheeks softer. You wonder, for a moment, if this is what having brothers would make you feel like.

“If you want to stay,” You clarify, “what can be done to make you feel better here?”

They look at each other, hesitating on the precipice. You wonder if they fear revealing too much, like you are. Showing too much of your heart is a risk. It comes with the very real fear of stumbling over the edge, with no net to catch you.

It comes with your chest flayed open, fragile organ revealed, ready for the risk of a knife… or a hand, no matter how gentle.

“We don’t know.”

“Can we think about it?”

You nod, hopping off the table, “You come find me the second you work it out, or go bother Sylus. I’m sure Xavier would appreciate the break from his probable torment.”

They laugh, and you watch for a moment as they resume eating their cake. Some level of buoyancy back in their stances. The relief settles… It’s something at least.

A door they can walk through at any moment.

The smell of grilling meat and vegetables has you drifting over to Xavie’s Barbecue. You’re relieved that Sylus has been keeping an eye over it, because there’s no smell of burning, and Xavier’s successfully making an array of food for everyone.

You didn’t want to think about how much food wastage there would be otherwise…

Nero is talking animatedly, gesturing as Xavier nods. Sylus is half paying attention, smirking at the prince every now and then. He notices you first though, hearing your footsteps even over the grass.

Sharp red eyes, turning molten and liquid as his gaze focuses on your approach. “Ah, there you are kitten.” Is said on an exhale. You’d think it was relief, with the way he breathes you in as you stand next to him and Xavi.

Xavier uses the hand not currently turning burgers, to hold onto yours, squeezing before releasing.

With his chin resting on your shoulder, Sylus indicates towards Nero with a half-hearted wave, “The Lumiere fan was just telling us some new stories.” You can hear his amusement. Clearly enjoying the situation.

The look on Nero’s face, however, is thrilled. You’re used to spending time talking to him, but the glee you see is always somewhere on the verge of scary, and sweet. “I heard that Lumiere took on an Arbiterwing. ALONE!”

You feel ice drip down your spine, and your eyes pin Xavier. Who jumps, almost dropping his tongs.

A chuckle sounds in your ear, as a hand grabs your waist, thumb soothing under your shirt to help ease down your hackles.

“Oh you did, huh? All on his own?”

“Yeah, how cool right? Lumiere’s EVOL is so powerful.”

If you had your fangs still, you think they’d be showing, as your try not to outwardly glare at the hero in question, “So cool. I bet he’s a really impressive person. Lumiere, that is.”

This time Xavier pouts, and you see the light blush moving over his cheeks. He looks over at you, brows furrowing.

“I wonder how his loved ones must feel though, finding out he fought such a terrifying beast on his own.”

Now he has the decency to look guilty, like a sad bunny, ears drooping. You almost feel bad, almost. Wanting to soothe skin in your hands, before you remember he’s the one out there fighting wanderers you’d had to fight with a team, on his own. “I’m sure he was careful.” Xavier grumbles, pleading beautiful starry eyes focused on you.

“Foods burning, prince.” Sylus purrs from his place leaning against your shoulder.

The man in question jumps, and resumes his work.

Nero still has starry admirable eyes, not paying attention to your and Xavier’s starring, “It’s a shame he’s not a hunter, imagine how much more he could do in a team of us!”

You look away from Xavier, whose shoulders relax a bit when you stop spearing him with your eyes, and laugh, “Would be helpful having him around, right?”

Tara and Simone call over Nero, yelling for him to join them. You almost expect him to turn them down, but he seems buoyed by his conversations with Xavier, and trots over to join them.

One you’re alone, you turn around to look at Xavier properly, “Really? An Arbiterwing?”

Sylus growls a little, “Damn things.” You’ve never asked Sylus why he finds Arbiters so difficult, you remember fighting one with him in the N109 Zone, and you certainly didn’t want to fight one again if you could ever help it. Still he seems particularly irritable about them.

“I promise I was careful. I didn’t have time to call for anyone else.” He places a hand on the your cheek and presses a kid to your forehead, pleading eyes bright and beautiful. You sigh, tugging him down a little, planting a kiss on his cheek. His cheeks flare bright, and his fingers twitch against your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You poke him in the chest now, “I’ll hold you to that, oh great hero.”

His groan is accompanied by yours and Sylus’ laugh. Who nuzzles against your shoulder, as he watches Xavier plating food.

“My job is done, nothing’s burned down.” He nips at your neck, “I think your favourite crow deserves praise.”

You mimic him, rubbing your chin with one hand, and titling your head, “Is Mephie around? I thought he had the day off.”

Another nip, this one a little harder, but not painful, “You’re cruel, kitten.” His hands are now both under your shirt, kneading your skin, warm palms sending small skitters of heat up and down your spine, “I worked hard, keeping the prince from destroying everything with his curse.”

“I’m not cursed.” Xavier spits back, “Some things just… don’t like working for me.”

“The burned down kitchen back at the base, certainly felt cursed.”

“It was your ovens fault.”

“Whatever you say, bunny.”

Your hand reaches up to tangle in Sylus’ soft hair as the two snipe at each other, easing through the strands and pulling his head in a way you can kiss him. He bites your bottom lip, and as you pull away, drowsily tries to chase your lips with his. Purring at the scratching at the back of his head. “You did good, both of you. Thank you.”

He doesn’t answer, just purrs and growls as he nuzzles, and inhales.

Xavier’s smile brightens, pride in his countenance as he nods, “Of course Starlight, whatever you need.”

“Take some grilled fish over to the fish, kitten.” Sylus finally breaks out of his daze, lifting himself up to grab a plate for Rafayel, that is being pilled with his favourites. “He’s been making drinks all day, I worry he’ll fall over soon.”

There’s something funny about the leader of Onychinus making sure Raffy is well fed, because he’d deny he was doing it. Pretend it was just to keep things moving smoothly, a measure to make the day easier to deal with.

Rather than what it actually is, concern for someone he cares about.

For a man so honest with his feelings, he prefers to hide them in smokescreens.

With a final kiss, one pressed to Xavier’s hand, and one to Sylus’ forehead, you leave with the plate.

When you approach Rafayel, he’s making a new drink for Yvonne and Greyson. It has gummy bears sprinkled on top, and a tiny little umbrella stuck in some pineapple. Greyson’s cheeks are very bright red, and you’re not surprised that he’s leaning heavily on Yvonne’s shoulder for balance.

“For you.” You offer the plate to Raffy, who sniffs at it happily, before stuffing a piece of salmon in his mouth.

“Cutie!” He speaks through chewing, pulling you down to join him at his makeshift bar. You grimace, staring at the sticky surface, and the mess he’s made.

Raffy is many things, a clean worker is not at all one of them.

You pull your arms back quickly to not get a horrifying sensory issue.

Your fish doesn’t notice, instead shaking a mixer in one hand, as he eats with the other. Even just looking at him, you can see the blush on his ears, and the slight unsteadiness to his hands. “Let me do that.” You take the mixer, “Eat.” He obliges, frowning only a little bit before he happily begins to clear his plate. Humming in satisfaction.

Xavier is a capable cook, when there’s no active flames or risk of explosion.

“Hey hunter!” Greyson exclaims, leaning forwards, his drink spilling a little over the side. “Thanks for inviting us.”

Yvonne smiles, offering you a glass of… what you assume is a Piña colada based by the pineapple slice. You take it, placing it down in front of you as you shake the mixer. Handing it back to Raffy, as he finishes his food. “I’m shocked seeing Dr Li trying to set up fireworks.”

Your laugh is warm, and fond. Zayne builds such an image of himself around others, “He’s secretly a big child, under the snowy layers.”

“Dr Li checked his watch so many times today, we were all worried we might get an emergency come in.”

“I wasn’t looking to seeing him frown, if that would have happened.”

“He shows his feelings so easily now, when it comes to you all.”

It’s hard to fight the heat in your cheeks, but its true. He has softened so much, especially recently.

Another drink is put down, “For Tara.” Raffy says, “This one for Simone.”

You watch as Yvonne nods, picking them up and wandering off.

“You’ve gained bar staff.” You speak, watching as Raffy puts his mixers down, finished with his orders for now, you assume. “What a successful little bar, our fishie is running.”

He preens, fangs peeking out with his smile, “I’m good at everything I do cutie.”

“Where did you even learn?” Greyson asks, chewing one of the gummy bears.

Rafayel shrugs, “Just one of those things you pick up when you travel.”

Looking at him, you want to ask follow up questions… but Raffy won’t share if he doesn’t want to, there’s always a feeling like looking through murky water with him. There’s always something there, lurking under the surface, but so hard to make out. You have to wait for it to surface, wait for it to come to you.

Better than trying to fish it out, and hurting it.

“I’ll take some water bottles around to everyone in a little while.” You look over at where Tara, Simone, and now Yvonne, are singing to a song playing throughout the park. As Nero nods his head absently, sipping some water. “Though your drinks are certainly popular.”

“Gotta greet the new day in style, cutie.” His head plops down into his hand, elbow on the bar, as he watches you. Beautiful eyes narrowing. Reading every little detail, every change.

Being stared at by Rafayel is a sensation that makes your back straighten.

When he puts his focus on something, he’s picking it apart, seeing every part of it, so he can paint it. In the way his eyes see the world. As art, as a wonder, as something worth protecting.

Your fingers reach out, shaking slightly, without even being aware of it, and brush the hair, that’s fallen right in front of his eyes, back. His skin paints red further, spreading down his neck, and his eyes sparkle. You wish you could paint, you wish more than anything that this beautiful man was kept in a portrait to stare at every moment of the day.

It’s hard to not believe in gods, when someone as beautiful as him sits there, staring at you. Like you make the waves crash against the shores.

He turns his head to kiss the tips of your fingers, before placing the pulse point of your wrist against his cheek again. “It’s a good day to celebrate.” He breathes out.

The laugh to your side pulls you out of your stupor, as Greyson nods in agreement. You pull back a little, though Rafayel doesn’t release your hand, keeping it in his lap as the two of you turn to your companion.

“Is Zayne doing ok?” You ask Rafayel.

“He debated drinking, then remembered how many people would be here, and changed his mind.”

“He’s a stickler for being a good example.” Greyson adds, stirring his drink.

You wonder if it’s really that, and the big snowman is not just stewing and fearing his control. Tightly wound and kept under lock and key, just in case. Always watchful.

At the very least, as you look over at him reading instructions on a firework box, you think he is having fun at least. You can’t say the same for Jeremiah, who is hovering by the photobooth, looking through the album next to it.

Raffy kisses your hand again, smiling at you, “Go be your nosy self, cutie. We’ll be here when you get back.”

“Or we’ll be playing spin the bottle much to Dr Li’s disappointment.”

You almost bark a laugh at Greyson, the mental image of Zayne playing spin the bottle or truth or dare, is such an image, you want to see it. Desperately. Pressing a kiss to the top of Raffy’s head as you stand, you wave at them both and head off.

“Sooo.” You poke your head over Jeremiah’s shoulder, who jumps. Looking at you like you’re a ghost. “Are you alright? Looking for any particular prop?”

It takes a moment before you think his brain starts working again, and he smiles… but its not a smile you’re used to seeing on Jeremiah’s face. You’ve seen it on Xavier’s face though. Sorrow lurking at the edges. Tired.

Maybe the passing of years for them both has a weight you’ll never understand.

“I’m alright, just… a lot of people. I haven’t been around this many in a long time.” He forces a laugh, “Silly right?”

You shake your head. You might have different reasons for struggling with crowds, but you refuse to let any of the people you’ve brought into your heart, think you are not a safe space for their concerns. “Not the first time I’ve heard that today. You’re fine.”

He’s got the album open on a photo of you, him and Xavier outside of Philos. Holding flowers in your arms.

It’s… a realisation that you’ve never seen Jeremiah with another person than Xavier. Like he’s become an island, with only Philos as his port.

So you change the page on the album, to some of Yvonne and Greyson. During the preparation for Zayne’s birthday. “We’ve taken so many photos this year.” It settles in your chest again, that thanks to your loved ones… you now have full albums, and many more to fill. “You should talk to Greyson, he likes sunflowers a lot.”

Jeremiah laughs, looking at you like you’re too obvious, “He’s a little drunk for that now.”

“When he sobers up then.” You huff, pushing the album into his arms, straightening the page out.

“I�� I’ll try. It’s odd, seeing Xavier like this.”

“You can do it too, you know?”

There’s doubt in the mans eyes, you don’t want to look too close. It gives you a feeling like a fire that’s burned too long.

“Or you can just take some really stupid photos with me, wearing the worst hats we can find, and see how many we can take in under a minute.” It’s hard to look too close at someone’s emotions, you feel. Looking into someones eyes is painful, there are times you can manage it, and times you can’t.

You find some people’s gaze holds yours against your will, not violently, but powerfully. Rafayel and Sylus have eyes that pulling away from feels like tearing part of yourself out. Xavier and Zayne feel like staring into a tranquil pond, losing yourself.

Jeremiah’s right now are wavering on the edge of something, and you can’t keep looking at them, turning your head a little to look at the props on the table. You reach out, carefully picking up a pair of bunny ears, and place them carefully on his head.

“If you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to… but if you’re scared and still want to try, then stay, and build bridges.”

You think about the men you’ve made your home, and the fear of overcoming the need to flee from them.

The house in ashes and cinders. The number that never texts you back anymore.

“As grumpy as Xavier asks, he’s there if you need him. Me too.”

Jeremiah reaches up to touch the bunny ears on his head, and smiles weakly, “I do need to get a drink.”

You nudge him, hand gently pushing the man forwards towards where Raffy is now spinning a mixer around his finger, to the thrilled cheers of Greyson and Tara, “Go on then, make it a good one.”

As he walks away, he waves at you a little, but is soon pulled to sitting down by a drunk doctor, and a happy hunter.

Your final stop is the fireworks, as Thomas and Zayne set them up somewhere safe. You’re glad its Zayne setting them up, as you worry Raffy would get excited and set them off too early.

If there’s a flame to put out, better the snowman, than the fish.

As you approach, Zayne looks up, and his forest eyes soften at the vision of you. Smile quirking cool lips. “Darling, have you enjoyed yourself?”

He’s warm, and familiar, and safe. Like a hearth. The irony of the cold skin, versus how heated he makes you feel, is something. As you take his extended hand, thumb brushing over your skin, you settle against his side while Thomas finishes up.

“It’s nice, seeing everyone.” You offer, “Seeing everyone moving forwards for the new year.” You trace the skin under his eyes with your fingertip, down to his mouth. He gasps a little, a puff of breath against the cool metal, before taking your wandering fingers in his own.

“Seeing some of you relaxed, is also quite pleasant.” You tease, bumping him with your hip. His laugh is a soft noise, that settles in your chest. Cool around your frantic heart.

“Our little family has behaved themselves, I haven’t had to put out any fires. It’s allowed for the relaxation.”

“You mother hen.”

Thomas stands up, brushing his hands on his trousers and grinning over at you, “Hey Mx Bodyguard. We’re all done here finally. Has Rafayel gotten everyone drunk yet?”

“He’s trying, I think his plan is going well, while we’re all unconscious he’ll achieve world domination.”

Zayne tenses, releasing your metal hand to rub at the space between his eyes, “The feeling of dread has returned.”

“I’m sure he’ll find some place for us in his new kingdom.”

“You’d make a good jester, Zayne.”

“It’s getting worse.” Your doctor frowns, tugging at your hand to glare unserious eyes at you as you fight the urge to laugh, the quirk to your lips too obvious to him.

Thomas extends the box of sparklers to you, “We can use these later, after watching the show.”

Zayne looks down at what they’ve worked on as the three of you move away, back to the party. He’s often hard to read, but you can see the nerves in him, the worry he hasn’t done it right. So you squeeze his cold hand in your warmer one, and lean against his shoulder, “It’ll be great. Even if the fireworks sputter, we’ll have memories.”

His worries soothe, and he smiles, “Have to take some photos for that album of yours.”

“‘Newdawn Day, we watched some very sad fireworks, then played games for hours’.” You poke him in the side using your joined hands.

“You’ll have to sleep at some point.”

Thomas laughs, “You’re just as bad as Rafayel then?”

“I am not.”

“When did you last get a full 7 hours, darling?” Zayne raises his brow, you want to grumble and argue, but he knows you too well. You rarely sleep well. You rarely get a good amount of sleep.

The nightmares are getting a little better, a little, but there’s never enough time to get rest in-between all the other things you need to do.

“No wonder whenever I check on you two in the studio, you look like two feral cats.”

“Hey, don’t let Raffy hear you call him a cat, he’ll sulk again.”

Zayne’s hand in yours, entwines your fingers, squeezing, loosening, squeezing again. Over and over again. Like he’s using your hand as a stim toy. Or perhaps he’s offering you a grounding physical sensation.

Either way, you squeeze back.

It’s dark now, and there are lanterns set around the area. It’s a vision. Everyone has gathered back in the centre, drinks in hands, sitting in the grass, staring up at the sky.

You can hear laughter, chatter and the occasional too loud voice calling out excitedly.

Jeremiah sits with Greyson, drinking, and chatting, while Yvonne, Tara and Simone have begun clinking glasses together before each sip. Nero is lay down next to the three pointing out stars to them, while Xavier adds additional trivia about the constellations. Thomas walks ahead to sit near where the twins are throwing food into each others mouths, and occasionally at the back of Sylus’ head. Who is holding back the urge to pick them up with his EVOL.

Raffy’s cheeks are bright red, but resting his head in Sylus’ lap, trying not to spill his drink down himself. Xavier is lay next to him, an eye-mask pushed to the top of his head, but now that his work is done, he looks close to drifting off.

Zayne hands you the little remote, that controls the final event of the evening, “When you’re ready.”

You tug his hand, pulling him with you into the little gathering of your partners and friends. Shoving yourself against the heat of Sylus’ side, who chuckles and wraps an arm around your shoulder, to flick a bit of Zayne’s hair out of his eyes. Before pulling you closer.

Then tug the doctor down next to you. You think you’re smiling. You’re pretty sure you are.

It’s more familiar on your face than it ever used to be, and it’s something you hope becomes as familiar as the heart stuttering in your chest.

“Ready?” You call out, to a cheer of assent, and with a single press of the button, and love surrounding you. The sky is lit up with blossoming flowers.

“Happy Newdawn day!”

There’s a moment of quiet, when you step away from the party, a sparkler in your hand. You spell out names as you walk further out, not too far that you can’t hear everyone, but far enough that no one needs to see the tears lurking in your eyes.

Newdawn reminds you of everything you’ve gained, and everything you’ve lost…

Pulling your phone out, you open his messages. Unread messages fill the screen. Reminding you he’s not there…

Still, you can’t help but send him another one. Maybe, somewhere he’ll hear you.

Maybe wherever he is, he’s happy.

When your sparkler is dead, and your messages sent, you take in a deep inhale. Clearing the shadows from your heart, and turn back to where twinkling lights summon you home. Eyes are turned to you, green, red, blue and pink, and you feel their gazes pulling you back. Where you belong, where you’re safe, no matter what else comes after you.

So you follow their call, like they’re a siren song, willingly and joyfully. Ready to follow them to the depths of the ocean if you have to.

And as you do, for a small moment, you feel the phone in your pocket vibrate.

🍎 partner in crime 🍎: Hey Pipsqueak. Happy Newdawn day.