Moon's Paradox

You sighed at Sylus' amused words as bodies- unconscious or dead, you didn't quite know- and rolled your shoulders back, the Wrath Judgement still active and jagged black crystals coiling at your feet.

"No, it was not."

It was supposed to be a largely safe auction. It had been invite only to the major players of Linkon's Underworld, and thus vetted somewhat. You had only attended because you knew there was a particular 'cursed' vinyl that had piqued his interest.

And, well. You wanted to get it for him, considering how he always got you things.

Alas, the night had had different plans for you. One of the many, many smaller- newer- factions had made their disapproval of the Syndicate's 'dictatorship' over the web of crime that had spread through the Earth. They had challenged you, essentially.

"Don't look so disappointed, honey." He said, pushing himself off of the wall he was leaning against to walk over to you. "The twins say that the vault is still secure."

It wasn't the same. You had wanted to gift something to him properly. Not have him take what he wanted. You pursed your lips under your red veil- again, in courtesy of the man who slid his hand onto your hip.

There was a pulling sensation at the back of your mind. An instinct that warned you of someone coming from behind Sylus. Whilst the man was scarily aware of his surroundings, you understood that some things slipped his mind in your presence.

You slid your palm down his torso and to his hip, more than aware of the nearly purr-like vocalisation that rumbled through his chest that made you feel very warm. You ignored it in favour of pulling the firearm out and pointing it at the head of the man sneaking up on Sylus.

You fixed your posture- almost instinctively- and pulled the trigger without hesitation. You felt his grasp on your waist tighten and his lips mouth at your neck. You felt the curve of his lips as he did so.

This asshole- one of the professional ragebaiters in game- knew that someone was sneaking up on him.

The thump of a body hitting the floor. You tilted your head at Sylus, who looked far too pleased with himself.

"You're getting sloppy, pet."

Wisps of red and black took the gun from your hand and in a flurry of dark feathers, it disappeared. Your now empty hand trailed down his waist to squeeze at his side.

He chuckled and caressed the hem of the veil covering your face to lift the fabric to his face. Tenderly, he pressed his lips onto it.

"And you're getting sloppy in hiding things, honey." Bright crimson eyes met yours, despite the fabric hiding your face from him. "You know I don't need material gifts from you." He released the fabric to let it settle back over your face. He smiled. "This..." He pulled you closer to him. "This is enough."

Zayne

Power couple part 2. But less in the 'criminal boss and their consigliere' way and more in the 'young heir and the diamond in the rough they pulled out' way. A lot of acts of service in both ways. You protect Zayne from the whispers and rumours that try to demean him. He protects you from your 'reckless unconcern for your body'. His words, not yours.

This relationship, as it started off as part of a public rouse, is pretty public. Everyone knows that the two of you are kind of? a thing. The nurses and other doctors at Linkon Central do not bat an eye when you drop by without any noticeable injuries. They do not bat an eye when he drops everything to meet you. They do, however, give his office a wide, wide berth.

He loves hugging you. You had asked him for it once, and since then, he would keep you in his arms. He also likes to feel your heart thrumming against his. He likes that hugging you gives him access to much of your body and lets him subtly check you for injuries that you may not be aware of.

Most dates involve desserts. You are more than aware of his sweet tooth and you're happy to indulge him. Most of the dates are public too, to feed the gossip channels to keep them off of your 'true double life'. Your dates with him are soft and mundane, and he's the one to take you around the normal parts of Linkon that you hadn't experienced in the game.

The two of you tend to be seen as... dry. Him with his awkwardness that could easily be misunderstood as haughtiness, and you with your impassive and unfeeling demeanour. But reality is very, very different. His humour is dry and so is yours. A lot of deadpanning and going along with the bit. But also a lot of quiet longing, even when the two of you are together.

Zayne's love for you is self-sacrificial. That is just a part of who he is. He suffers in silence and so do you. That makes it easier for him to pick up on when you do so. But it also works the other way. You pull him out of the silent suffering and he does the same for you.

You took a sip of your drink and nodded along to one of your family's collateral members as he droned about some bullshit that you couldn't care less about. From your knowledge, he had just barely become a doctor, yet he was acting as though he was some kind of phenomenal miracle worker.

This was a charity gala hosted by Akso. You wouldn't have come, considering your blatant funding of Linkon Central, but Greyson had invited Zayne. And where he went- in terms of social events with hyenas that would like nothing more than to tear him apart- you followed. Even if you would have liked to do nothing else but stay in the comfort of your home.

"-Li only became who he is because of you, right?" You blinked slowly in response to the collateral family member's dismissive words. You wanted him to shut up, but unfortunately, he took your silence as an approval to continue. "Man, if only we weren't related. Maybe then you'd have supported me instead."

"No."

"I- uh... No?"

With clear disinterest, you swirled the liquid in your glass and sighed.

"No. I gave him my support because I knew what the slander hid. I offered him my help because he is a brilliant man and a passionate doctor." You tipped the glass to the side, not caring whether the liquid splashed onto the marble floor or not. "I wouldn't have given you my aid when I knew your passion for medicine was nothing more than to gain the medical branch of the Enterprise."

"But you'd give it to someone that's been shunned by the field?" He sneered at you. "You're a liar. You picked him up because you liked his face. It's a transaction, isn't it? You give him your support and he gives you a pretty thing to play around with."

Honestly, there was some truth to that. You did like Zayne's face a lot, and you did. Uh. Play with him.

A cool hand wrapped around yours and righted your glass.

"They saw my value when none other did." His voice came from behind you as another hand gently slid to the small of your back, pressing down lightly in support. "And considering how they hadn't offered you anything, I can only say that they are sound of mind."

"Besides, I didn't give sugar here any branch." You had wanted to keep the man away from the whole thing, considering how the Enterprise had been tightly linked with Ever at one point, but Zayne was stubborn when it came to things that he believed would help you. "He took it rightfully."

"It wouldn't have gone to you regardless." He said, tone as cold as his evol. "I reviewed the article you sent in, and found several counts of academic misconduct. Falsified data, diagrams that make no medical sense, and casual phrasing..."

You watched and let your lips tilt up at the way the man in front of you stiffened. As his expression dropped into something far less smug and confident.

"My husband-to-be-" you felt Zayne's hands grow cold in surprise, but continued on- "doesn't make these accusations lightly. And in turn, I don't take him lightly." You activated Nulledge Field and let the glass in your hand float away as you intwined your fingers through his. "Come now, fiancé. I want some air."

You escorted him quickly through the hall, aware of the wide berth the other attendees gave you and him. You could see Greyson give Zayne a subtle thumbs up as you passed the Akso doctor by.

Eventually, you were standing at the balcony, the doors to it closing shut behind Zayne, giving you some privacy. Said man shot you an unimpressed look, but you knew what the flaming tips of his ears meant.

"Husband-to-be?"

"You don't want to be?"

His entire demeanour softened as he took a step closer to you, a hand coming to cup your cheek.

"Are you certain?"

"You need the administrative paperwork more than the others do. This way, no one can say anything about you not being part of the family."

"The others-"

"All agreed." You smiled at the glossy look in his eyes. "We all know that marriage isn't as important when there're bonds that go far, far beyond paperwork."

Zayne pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mixing with yours.

"Thank you."

Rafayel

Darling fishie will continue to grovel even if he knows you're fine with him now and have forgiven him entirely. Clingy, clingy man that adores everything and anything you give him. Of course, Rafayel gifts you things- all of which are created by his hands- but he truly treasures the things you give him. The only problem is that his definition of 'give' is different from yours. You hand him a piece of your clothing to adjust something? Yeah, that's his now.

As a Lemurian, he's very sensitive to scents and sounds. He will smother you in an attempt to make you smell like him. He will sing to you very often. It's part of a courting thing, and he will do his best to make sure that you consider him as someone to protect you, not one that would harm you.

He's another one that loves hugging you. But he likes it when your back is to his chest. He tried to kill you the first time with a dagger at your back, so it's only natural that he'd feel at ease to have it protected. There's also the fact that you were trusting your back to him. He loves that, because it highlights the fact that you did truly forgive him.

Dates are a strange mixture. Sometimes, they're at Mo Art Studio, both of you creating art together- whether it be painting or sculpting or playing music- sometimes they're in high end restaurants. Sometimes they're at the beach, and sometimes they're at the comfort of a much private place, considering both you and his high public profile. On some occasions, you need an assassin to sneak into kill. And on those occasions, he follows you to your intended event as a plus one and slips away to do as you command.

This man is yet another professional ragebaiter. However, he doesn't act in an overly pushy way. He doesn't poke and prod for the sake of things or to pull out what you really think. He teases, of course, but there's a degree of sincerity under every mask he wears. He lets you see behind that mask, no matter what.

Rafayel's love for you is devotional. The Sea God- the one used to being devoted to- being the one to devote instead... It's something strange and unnatural to someone like him. But the sea responds to the moon. The tidal lock ensures that. Is it so surprising that he would be locked to you?

You smiled at the large painting in front of you. It was a lovely piece of mixed media- the the swirling white and black paints mixing with threads tapestry of more vibrant colours of reds, blues, purples, yellows, and oranges- and made solely by your dear Rafayel.

You were at an art show today, in the name of said famous artist. He had waited until you arrived- as you had been running late due to a meeting with the kids had run over- to open the doors to the gallery to the people that had wanted to buy his art.

You loved his art, and you could see the inspiration in all of them. Some were blatant- like the many pieces that held aspects of your physical form- but most were more subtle.

For example, the lovely painting you were looking at right now. Rafayel was famous for only truly creating pieces that were in some way related to the seas. There was always something oceanic there. Like the use of crushed sea shells, the low-key drawing of ocean creatures, to name a couple things. But this one? This one depicted the universe.

A familiar weight settled on your shoulder.

"Do you like it, boo?" Rafayel said, his voice a whisper in your ear. "I had my try at weaving, but I found that I was actually horrible at it."

"It's not bad, pookie." He scoffed in half-hearted offence, and when you turned your head slightly, you could see the pout on his lips. His very pretty, very kissable lips. "But there is room for improvements." His pout intensified as he blinked at you, fluttering those pretty eyelashes of his. "I can help you with that. If you want, of course."

"Yeah!" His hands grabbed your waist as he rubbed his cheek affectionately against your shoulder, uncaring of the people milling around him. And uncaring of Thomas who looked like he was very close to pulling his hair out. "I'd like that."

"And maybe..." He dragged out the last word as he slid his hand to yours, cradling your fingers in his. "Maybe we can open a joint art show."

"I'm not an artist, Rafayel."

"Aren't you?" He raised your hand up and turned it around slightly to press his lips to one of your knuckles. "Do you not weave, dearest moon?" His lips glided to press against another one of your knuckles. "Do you not sing? Do you not play the strings?"

"Yeah, I do, but..." You shrugged, pausing briefly to press a kiss onto his temple when you realised that you had jostled him. "It's nothing professional and nothing that could be presented next to yours."

Rafayel laughed lightly. Not in a demeaning manner, but in a way that seemed to be helplessly fond.

"My art can't be complete without you, just like I can't be complete without you." He shuffled even closer to you, warm body engulfing you. "I think your art is something that others should be given the honour to see. And I would want nothing more than to have my art hang by yours."

Xavier

Xavier is your partner in crime. Literally. He is your underboss, who pretends to be you whenever a decoy is needed. For all intents and purposes, you and he share what to others look like a telepathic link. Your relationship doesn't have much gift giving. But it has a lot of shared space and soft acts of service. He's attentive to your sleeping schedule and will grab onto you when you try to get out of bed,

He likes going to 'antique' places with you and talking about the past centuries he had spent here. You knew what many of those things were when no one else truly did. You understood him in a way that made him feel a lot less like an outsider. He will do his best to search for things you sound wistful for, and he will bother Jerimiah about it.

The man loves falling asleep next to you. He loves it when you run your fingers through his hair as he slips to sleep. He likes it when he has his face in your chest, hearing your heartbeat and feeling your warmth. He also loves nodding off with his head in your lap. Because when he falls asleep like that, he can finally feel himself rest. He also loves to be the one to lull you to sleep because it meant that you felt as safe and at home as he did with you.

Dates tend to be on the mundane side, going to festivals and amusement parks, things like that. However, there's a fifty-fifty chance that the date will occur in a more violent way. You, the boss of the Syndicate and him, your direct second in command would lead to some dates being mingled with the dark side of things. He accompanies you to business deals- in both aspects of your life, in the dark as your right hand man, and in the light as your decoy to make many known that you were seen in the same place as the 'Great Moon'- and sneaks in affection then.

Banter tends to be soft and only lightly teasing. Very earnestly innocent most of the times but when a switch flips, it flips. He's indulgent to your every whims unless it involves anything to do with your safety. When that happens, he'll put a pretty firm foot down. He's in servitude to you and he lets that show because he wanted to be from the very beginning.

Xavier's love for you is possessive. He's lost too much to not be. He's possessive of you because he's afraid that if he isn't he'd leave you behind. His possessiveness isn't anything to do with distrusting you, but it's to do with not trusting himself. He doesn't want you to leave, but it's more that he doesn't want to leave you. The stars, the moon... So close yet so far. But he will do his best to drag himself to you.

You shared the same evol as Xavier. To an extent. Your stigmas were given to you by versions of the love interests, but out of all of them, the ones that had been gifted to you by the Xaviers were closest to the man you were fighting with right now.

Luminescent Field was given to you by an earlier timeline Xavier who was at the peak of his abilities, without Ever's collar constraining him.

Your stigma was his evol. Literally. It wasn't a version of it, nor was it a variation of a past incarnation. It wasn't surprising that you and he worked together well in Evol fights.

A deal had gone wrong. They didn't like the offers you made, and unfortunately, the meeting had occurred out of the N109 zone. Out of your 'home ground'. And the other faction had somehow gotten the ability to trigger Protofields and bring Wanderers to this place.

Someone must have told the other faction that something could control the Wanderers, but the moment the boss lifted something up and shouted a command, she had been torn apart by the monstrous creatures she had summoned.

Idiotic, really. And it hadn't been long before it was only you and him against a horde of Wanderers.

You moved fluidly, shifting positions with Xavier as though the two of you were extensions of each other. His sword sliced through the Wanderer's cosmic body and you followed up with your Needle, shrouding it in light.

Bright blue eyes locked with yours as the Wanderer staggered back with a shrill cry. This one was the last one standing, the others having disappeared into dust.

Damn it. If only you could see the health bars like you could so before.

"A couple more hits. Or a very strong one hit." Xavier murmured as he used his evol to blink next to you. "It'll be gone by then."

You trusted him. You nodded and acknowledged his silent request by pulling out Verglas Cage, the ice cracking and splintering as it emerged from your feet. The massive icy thorns shot out at the Wanderer and wrapped around it, the jagged edges digging into its flesh.

Xavier took off running up the ice, the light of his evol keeping him quick enough to slide on the slippery ice. But you made sure that Wrath Judgement lingered nearby to grab him if he fell.

Thankfully, he didn't. You knew that he wouldn't.

You watched as he summoned a large blade of light to slam into the Wanderer in tandem with his own sword.

For the briefest of moments, you were blinded, but your sight came back to you quickly, only to show Xavier kneeling on the ground where the Wanderer had once been.

Hurriedly, you ran over to him, your robes fluttering behind you. You grasped his shoulders as he slumped slightly. Exhaustion from overusing his evol, probably. The collar may be off, but the two hundred years of its use had left lingering trauma.

A steady callused hand grasped the edge of your veil and flicked it off, revealing your face to him in the privacy of the battered Protofield.

Xavier offered you a soft smile before he reached to cradle the back of your neck to pull your lips onto his.

And well. What else could you do but kiss back?

Caleb

Yet another clingy man. This puppy would follow you to the bathroom if you let him. (You tend to let him) Caleb's your bodyguard, the only one who truly understands the context of this world, and the one that had always seen you. You knew him better than anyone he knew. He knew that you knew the darkest parts of himself. The part of himself that he hid behind bright smiles and charismatic words. Yet you liked him. He hates you, he loves you, it's all quite complicated but one thing's for sure. He needs you in his life.

The concept of personal space doesn't exist to him. It's not shared space at all, as he'll just get all up and in your space no matter how compromising it would look. 'It's all as part of my job as your bodyguard' 'you are looking through my underwear' 'did I stutter?' His clothes are your clothes and your clothes are his clothes. He's had a lot of experience in caring for MC and even though you have people doing the housework for you, he will bulldoze over everything so that your mansion is full of his touch.

He loves it when you hurt him. Not in the cruel way. But he likes it when you pull at his hair. He loves it when you dig your nails into his flesh arm when you want to keep him at heel. He loves it when you use his own evol on him. He loves being at the receiving end of the pain because he knows that anything you dish out is real. Of course, he loves whatever soft touch you give him, but the pain? It grounds him.

Dates are somehow pretty public. He was publicly your bodyguard, after all. Most of his paperwork was forged, but everything else remained the same, so it was fine. He'd do things with you that was familiar to him and MC. Which were also things that were familiar to you, who watched much of the shared memories with her. He would constantly ask how it was experiencing things instead of just watching. He keeps giving you plushies. You end up having to fill up a whole room for all of them.

His interactions with you flicker between soft and reverent to bitter and closed off. But eventually, he would spend more time being soft and reverent with you. When that time comes, he'd be so brutally teasing that you'd sympathise with MC a lot. He makes it very certain that you know he's just teasing though.

Caleb's love for you is reverent. You are the only thing that he believes in. You are the only god he'll ever worship, the only person he'd let bind him in the way you do. You showed him the Truth of everything, and he- being the loyal idiot he is- had imprinted on you. He doesn't care if it's guilt or love that you continue to treat him like a lover. All he cares about is that you let him hold you and kiss you.

Most times, the Enterprise business didn't go violent. Many knew that you were untouchable in this context. That any harm to you was an attack on the entire business. And that retaliation would come both violently and financially.

However, there were some idiot upstart CEOs who saw your 'sheltered' life and thought that he could grab you and force you to do things. That he could threaten you physically to intimidate you.

So you weren't surprised when one of said upstart CEOs reached to grab your wrist as you firmly decided against investing in his AI techbro bullshit.

You would have brought forth your stigmas- or moved your arm- if not for Caleb grabbing the other man's arm and the heavy pressure that pressed down the space.

You impassively looked at the man whose offending wrist was firmly captured by Caleb's metal fingers. The love interest's evol was oppressive, and you could see the way the furniture- the desks, the chairs, the decorative plants- splintered and cracked under the pressure.

You were, of course, immune to it all.

"What do you want me to do?" Caleb asked, voice severe. But you knew him well enough to pick up on the soft concern behind the vicious efficiency.

Corporate went hand in hand with mobs and violence kept under wraps. Your mother had a team of trusted elite members that did the dirty work. You had... well, you guessed one thing had led to another to have Caleb be that person for you.

You passionlessly looked at the terrified man. You didn't care for people like him.

"Break his arm for me, puppy."

Immediately, a sickening snap echoed in the room, and the man was carelessly tossed to the side as Caleb grabbed your waist to turn you around.

"There." He smiled at you warmly. "Well, do I get a reward now?" His violet eyes glimmered expectantly. "Please, angel eyes. I've been doing so, so well."

"Have you?"

"I stayed quiet when he insulted you. I stayed quiet when he made sexual remarks at you..." His fingers dug into your flesh, only to pause and loosen when you made a face. "Come on, angel eyes... I'm begging here."

You bit your lips and raised a hand to cup his jaw, revelling in the way he instantly leaned into your palm. You pulled his face closer to you and pressed a soft kiss onto the corner of his mouth.

"Good boy."

All Together Now (Poly)

"Who the fuck decided on this venue?" You hissed out, looking at the throne like chair on a pedestal. "Was it the twins? It was the twins."

"I think it's fitting." Sylus mused, like the indulgent father figure to them he was. "It suits you."

You looked at the dark, gothic piece of furniture adorned with gems and intricate carvings. You raised a hand behind your veil to tiredly pinch the bridge of your nose.

"They take after you, pet."

"It's a little gaudy, though." Rafayel mused, frowning softly. Behind the mask hiding his eyes, you could almost see the glimmer of amusement. "Tacky."

"It's much better than whatever you have in mind, fishie."

"Don't start," Caleb said, rolling his eyes as he rocked on his heels a step behind you.

"Quiet, puppy. You're muzzled." Rafayel huffed half-heartedly. "And good puppies don't yap when they're muzzled."

"I doubt that's how training dogs work."

"Hush, doctor. Let them fight this out."

You sighed fondly and lifted a foot to step onto the steps to the pedestal with the 'throne', only to stop in your tracks when a hand was offered to you.

You blinked at Xavier, who smiled at you, the upper half of his face obscured by his mask. He urged you to take his arm, and take it you did. You let him escort you to the throne adjacent, hearing quick steps following you.

The others must have paused in their bickering to follow you as you moved up.

You settled on the throne with a fond, half-exasperated sigh and watched as Xavier stood at your right, whilst Sylus took his place at your left. Caleb stood behind you, looming over everything else. Rafayel lounged at the steps to the 'throne', looking carefree in a very controlled manner. Zayne cocked his head to the side, as though he was at a loss to where he had to stand.

"Zaynie."

At Caleb's call of his name, the doctor swiftly joined his childhood friend to watch over you.

"I look like the main character from some kind of reverse-harem novel," you muttered, leading to your boys making soft sounds of amusement.

"Well, aren't you?"

"Quiet, pookie."

You wondered what this would all look like to those that your Syndicate had invited to this event. You, sitting on a dark throne, veiled in fabric that wasn't quite of this world and adorned in white traditional robes. Your boys all clad in traditional robes of their colour and looming over you like walls.

Sylus

Sylus would just smirk. He'd look indulgent of what you were saying, but it would simply be that. Indulgent. The man's first form was a dragon, and he was a Fiend in every incarnation. He was predator, even if you were no prey.

He was your consigliere. Your Syndicate's plans were largely known to him, and you had been the one to push the power over your Beasts into his open palms even when he had been indifferent to it in the very beginning. You had separated Onychinus from your Syndicate, but he still had access to many things. There was still time before you properly cut him off.

Luke and Kieran were more favourable to you than they were to him. But by cutting ties with him, you were essentially cutting ties with them as well. He would tell them exactly that, which would convince them to be cooperative of his actions.

He wouldn't cage you. No. You'd be settled nice and comfortably in a nest far from anyone that would dare to take you away from him. Preferably, he'd want those coveting figures away from you, but that would make you unhappy. And he didn't want that. They couldn't really do much anyway.

All you really needed to do was enjoy the service he was giving you. No worries or thoughts, really.

Sylus would take care of what you built up. He would make sure that you had nothing to worry about. But there were many aspects of your life you fretted over. Aspects he only trusted the others with.

Rafayel

Rafayel would not like it. He would not like the mere thought of you leaving him. And he'd make that very, very clear to you. He'd pout at the start, arguing with you before you could really get a word out. He'd assume you were joking. Or punishing him for trying to kill you that one time. But when he realises that you were being serious, oh boy.

That ancient part of him would come fully into play. The Deep Sea God that he housed would roar to life. For what were the tides without the moon? He had only just found balance in the ebb and flow, and you want to leave him?

All the while, the Lemurian instincts of his would flare. Not the 'romantic' ones that humans tended to think of- like courting rituals- but something much more violent and dark. He would consider pulling you into the seas and keeping you there. Forever. You would be helpless. Completely dependent on him.

You would be very cautious of him due to his very vocal disagreement with your sentiments. He would not listen to you trying to tell him that this was for his own good. That this was all to make sure that he would have her in his life.

How could he leave you when he hadn't even made up for his terrible behaviour? How could you tell him that you'd leave him when he hadn't even gotten close to repaying you for rescuing his kinsfolk?

Rafayel knew you were someone to be worshipped by those worthy. You were his sole muse. A saviour that was beloved by his kinsfolk. The damned Weaver wouldn't get his spindly legs on you if he kept you hidden. And well. He knew others that would help with that.

Xavier

Xavier would be another one that would keep his disapproval quiet. You would still pick up on it, of course, considering how he'd give you the softest of looks and asking that you let him stay with you. He was your underboss. How would you take care of yourself without him acting as a decoy?

He would purse his lips and shake his head when you tell him that you had coped well enough before he had joined. And you'd urge him to become a Hunter once more. He would pretend to concede, but he'd already be planning. If you had been anyone but who you were, he would have elevated your position and kept that responsibility as a way to tether you to him. But you already had a position outside of his influence. If anything, he deferred to you.

So, the only option left was to... keep you. You would still be the leader of the Syndicate. You'd just be... working a lot less.

The only issue would be your EVOL. But that could be easily controlled. EVER did have more versions of the suppression collars they had used on him. He wouldn't collar you, of course. Jerimiah could fashion it into something softer. Nicer. The only downside of the EVOL suppression would be the fatigue and the slower cognition, but that would be fine.

You would be staying where he could watch over you. You would never be alone. You wouldn't need that sharp mind of yours that much anyway. You wouldn't skip meals or anything of the sort.

Xavier would keep you safe and sated. You'd get used to the sleepiness right in his arms. But he knew that he couldn't get the EVOL suppressing collar on his own nor could he run your Syndicate on his own for you. No. But he had others that could help with both.

Caleb

Yeah. No. Caleb would grin humourlessly and tell you that that wasn't happening. You had both condemned him and saved him. You were the reason he knew things- about Love and Deepspace, about his life being a plot, the love he held for her being nothing more than a trope, and Linkon not being real- and that knowledge had broken him. But you had also been his saviour. You saved him from EVER. You had stopped him from being forced to work with the Fleet.

You saved him. Leashed him. Promised that you'd keep him. And what? You were abandoning him now? You had ruined his life. You had ruined him. Now you were brushing off that responsibility? Brushing him off like he was nothing important to you? He had let you fo when you had briskly left the conversation. Because he knew that you wouldn't be getting far from him.

He had camera everywhere. In your bedroom. In your office. In every single place you frequented. He was more than adept at watching you as you had back when you were playing the game. That was fair, wasn't it? You kept him in the Destiny Cafe, and poked at him as you pleased. It was his turn now.

He would build a labyrinth for you. A large one that sprawled as big as you did. All-encompassing and winding. The labyrinth wouldn't be your cage. It wouldn't be your prison. It would be your sanctuary. Although the labyrinth has mainly been thought of as a prison that Minos built to keep the monster his wife had birthed, there were other interpretations he believed. That Minos had built the labyrinth to keep Asterius safe when everyone called him a monster and wanted him dead.

You would be contained. Loved. Your every action would be monitored and controlled. You didn't know how to take care of yourself, after all. Caleb would do it for you.

All together now (Poly/Aftermath)

Slowly, you came to. Your memory was slightly fuzzy. You remembered going to your mansion after a day of work. You vaguely remembered meeting with one of the love interests before everything went dark.

You were lying on some kind of soft surface. You were warm, as though you were

[Constellation, 'Trusted Traitor' asks if you're alright.]

You nodded and opened your mouth to respond, only to snap it shut when you felt arms tighten around you. When you felt a face burying into your chest. When you felt pairs of hands stroking you.

"Are you awake, my love?" Your eyes swivelled at Zayne's voice and saw that your were somehow resting on his lap. "Everything's fine. You're safe."

Oh, you didn't like that. You didn't like the edge in his tone nor the gentle hardness in his hazel eyes.

[Constellation, 'Unwilling Acceptor of Sacrifice' tells you that you were kidnapped.]

"Ugh, tell those stupid instruments to be quiet." Rafayel mumbled as he slowly raised his face from your chest. His pink-blue eyes sparkled darkly. "I'm glad to see you awake, boo."

"What's going on?" you asked, sincerely disoriented.

[Constellation, 'Light-seeking Queenmaker' tells you that the physically present versions of themselves seemed to have made a decision to confine you.]

Confine you? That was when you felt the weight on your neck. You tried to raise a hand to touch at what was weighing you down, but the arms that were wrapped around you touched it in your stead.

"Don't worry about it, my moon." Xavier's voice said, quiet and soft. "This is just something to keep you safe."

[Constellation, 'Caged Protector' tells you that you may be... caged.]

Yeah, no shit.

You tried to escape the pile of hot men that you had found yourself sitting in the middle of, but a familiar slithering of black and red energy stopped you.

"Stop that, honey. We don't want you straining yourself." Sylus voice was a low, playful drawl. "We promise we'll take care of you and all that's yours. All you need to do is let yourself be kept."

[Constellation, 'Half of the Cosmic Whole' asks if that would be too bad.]

Yes? You had a life that you had painstakingly built in this world despite your constantly warring thoughts and emotions? There was the main story you had been trying to get back on track at the expense of your own desires?

There was also the whole damned business with Astra that you had to deal with sooner or later?

"Come on, angel eyes." Caleb's faux playful voice sliced through the air and pulled you out of your thoughts as his evol pulled you away from the other four to instead have you somehow perched on top of his lap. "Is this too bad?"

Before you could say anything though, the violet-eyed love interest grinned sharply as he crashed his lips onto yours. Multiple pairs of hands grabbed at you. Stroking your flesh and squeezing. Lips pressing at your skin hotly. Nipping, biting, nibbling.

Well. Fuck it. You weren't going to say no to being imprisoned by several hot men that wanted you. You weren't an idiot. Besides, you really doubted that any of them would hurt you.

[Constellation, 'Forgotten Defier of Destiny' muses that this was one way to keep Astra away from you.]

It was just another regular day in your life where you were stuck at work, wanting time to move fast so that you can go home and cuddle with you cat as you read some novels. Some would say that was a sad and boring life for a 36 year old single woman but you couldn’t care less. You were happy and content with your life (except your job but that was because of your stupid boss). Your boss was on your ass wanting you to finalise the draft for the upcoming major investment into your company. Tired of trying to force yourself to work, you decided to take a quick smoke break and grabbing a drink from the cafe nearby.

You made your way out of the office building and found a somewhat quiet spot near the sidewalk and took a cigarette from your purse and that was when you noticed that your lighter is out of fuel and you forgot to buy a replacement. Of all the days, it had to be today. Cursing yourself, you were looking around to see if anyone around you might have one and that’s when you spotted him - An incredibly tall man with silver hair and sunglasses looking at his phone like it personally offended him. He wore a suit with red blazer that had black tiger stripes. He sure had an odd sense of fashion paired with an aura of a man who thought everything was beneath him.

Deciding that you were only going to ask if he had a lighter and not for his first born, you decided to slowly approach him.“Excuse me. Hi. So sorry to bother you but do you by any chance have a lighter on you?”

The man stared at you with a scrutinising look, like you indeed had the audacity to ask for his first born like the wicked witch of the East. But a second later, he reached into his suit and handed you a very fancy looking lighter.

Not wanting to waste any more of his time and your break, you quickly lit your cigarette and handed the lighter back to the man with a thanks. Walking back to your previous spot, you took a few drags from the cigarette while mentally making a list of all the things you needed to get done so that you can leave this hell hole asap. Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice that the fancy lighter man had walked to stand closer to you.

“I am Sylus.” He introduced himself without a preamble, snapping you back to reality.

“Sorry?” You said as you didn’t catch him the first time, making him repeat himself. Once you registered what he said, you reciprocated by introducing yourself to him.

“Long day at work?” He asked and you figured he was trying to make small talk for some unfathomable reason. Small talk cost you nothing other than the loss of depleting brain cells but eh, what the heck, sure.

“You could say that. Just a boss that can be a bit of a dick. Nothing I can’t handle though. You look like your driver ditched you.”

“What makes you say that?” He inquired, looking intrigued at your assessment of his situation.

“You were looking at your phone like you were ready to murder someone and now you’re here at the sidewalk making small talk with me in your rich fancy suit.” You replied with a shrug. You had the habit of people watching and observing things that other people usually don’t notice or register.

“Rich fancy suit?” Now he was just smiling at you or rather your words which should have made you self-conscious and filter your words but your brain said not today.

“Yea. I mean yeah this is a bougie law firm and everyone might wear something that looks expensive but only a rich rich person who does not care about other people’s opinions would wear…that.”

“What’s wrong with that?” He turned around and leaned on the wall to fully look at you.

“The design is definitely a choice, I’d say. It’s not for everyone and nor can everyone pull it off.” You really should stop talking but you were just digging your grave further and further.

“So, you’re saying I’m pulling it off?” He asked with a smirk, clearly fishing for compliments.

“Weirdly, yeah.” You replied with a small smile of your own as you snuffed your cigarette butt on the sidewalk. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Sylus. I unfortunately have to get back to my job. I hope you’re not stranded for too long, though.”

“It was nice meeting you too, Miss. I hope we meet again.” He said extending his hand for a handshake that you took. He definitely had a sharp handshake that a lot of those business gurus talk about on instagram.

You had nothing then, no memories, no home, no family or friends. So when they offered you a purpose, an identity, you took it without hesitation.

So by the time you meet Sylus, you're an agent on a mission, one of Ever's many "raincoats" keeping track of all the people deemed dangerous to the company and its many secrets. You've been assigned to him by virtue of your lack of identity, making it hard to trace back to Ever. You don't bother trying to act pitiful the way you had once been that fateful day you first woke up as a blank slate.

But you also don't lie about your background, about how you seemingly came from nothing, how you felt lost in a world that seemed to hold no place for you. Because even with the purpose Ever had given you, you were nothing but a mindless tool, and sometimes, that weighs on you.

So he takes you in, keeps you at arms length at first until little by little, you carve out a place by his side, until you've become indispensable to him. It should make you happy, knowing you're one step closer to completing your mission. It should satisfy you knowing you're fulfilling your purpose.

And yet.

Each time you're presented with an opportunity to kill him, you hesitate. You give yourself excuses, tell yourself it's not the right time, that Ever hasn't given you the explicit order to do so when you know very well just how much the company would benefit from having him gone.

Because the truth was, just as he's come to trust you, so have you.

Because where Ever turned you into a bullet they used to load into their gun and point at their targets, Sylus made you feel human. He gave you choice. Where Ever gave you a target and told you to eliminate them, Sylus showed you a photo, a collection of files and asked you how you would handle this threat.

But most of all, Sylus gave you a family. Was it atypical and more than a little strange? Yes, but its yours. Wholly, undeniably yours. Eventually, you stop giving yourself excuses about your actions. You just simply stopped thinking about your mission altogether.

But life has a cruel way of reminding you in the form of the chip in your head.

One moment, you were walking back home—and isn't it a wonder that you could ever find one for yourself—and then next thing you know, you're on the floor in Sylus' office, his arm pressed up against your throat, dark red tendrils of his evol holding your limbs down, your signature blades thrown across the floor.

Your stomach sinks with dread but there's also a sense of relief. You close your eyes, relax against the cool marble of the floor and surrender your life to the man above you. Because if you had to die, at least let it be by the very hands that held you steady, that guided you and adored you in turn. Because like this, you'd at least know your body would be treated like a life lost rather than just another asset to be thrown away.

Yet the end doesn't come and when you dare to open your eyes, you find an expression you've never seen on Sylus' face. Your hands move before you can think to stop yourself, the restraints no longer holding you back. Thus, you're free to hold his face in your scarred palms, rough from a lack of care and many years of spilling blood in the name of a cause you no longer believed in.

Because how could you keep devoting yourself to a company that saw you as nothing more than a dispensable tool when right here in front of you was a man, known for his unflappable composure, that looked as if you might as well have driven your blades into his chest for all that he remained uninjured.

Who looked so utterly devastated that you would willingly let him kill you.

"I'm a danger to you," you try to say.

"No."

"Sylus—"

"No," he insists, voice rough and harsher than you've ever heard from him. He closes his eyes and leans into the warmth of your palms.

"I'll find a way. I'll get that damned chip out of you."

Somehow, it doesn't surprise you that he's already figured out who you are. Perhaps he's known all along.

"You gave yourself to me, surrendered your life to me," he murmurs, lips grazing the scars of your fingers, making you twitch. They've always been sensitive.

"Your life is now mine to do with as I please," he declares, eyes fluttering open, the aether core in eye glowing a bright bloody red.

The arm at your throat retreats, replaced by a large hand, fingers putting just enough pressure for you to feel it, for your pulse to pound harshly against the finger pressed right above it.

"You're mine," he hisses, breathing just the slightest bit labored, before the hand at your throat releases you and he rests his forehead against yours. "So just stay with me."

And so you do. Against your logic, what little conscience you have, and your own fear that you would one day wake up with Sylus in your arms, dead by your own hand, you do.

Because if there was anyone who could make a promise and keep it, it was him.

Because everything Sylus wanted, he took.

Because he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

And for once, just this once, perhaps, you might just believe that you deserve this too.

[Edit Log]

Feb '26 - updated to include non!mc tag; upon review, it fits a non-mc reader better so it was specified to be such