⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Not Now!

In honor of the Ithaca Saga and Epic the Musical in general🫡🫡

Ody and Penelope have my heart🖤🖤

Thomasin looks at her phone – the reason for all this insanity. Her life changed when, while playing her beloved game, a message popped up on her screen, asking her if she wanted to become Stellaluna for real. She didn’t think much of it when she pressed “yes”, thinking it was just some pop-up ad for another game or a publicity stunt. 

Spoiler alert – it was definitely not a pop-up ad or a publicity stunt.

Her life changed the day when she came face to face with one of the monsters in her games - along with Xavier, who valiantly engaged with the horrific beast. Though he was a fine warrior, it was clear that he could not subdue the beast on his own.

That's where she came in.

Using her lunar charm, she turned into Stellaluna, her character from the game and his fated partner. Together, they fight against the mythical monsters, known as Wanderers, to keep Linkon City safe from harm.

Art of Lumiere by the talented Kirakanjo! (18+, Minors DNI)

𝙃𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝙈𝙀𝙈𝘽𝙀𝙍𝙎 (QP1)

Decided to post my brainrot/self-indulgent quick prompt on how the LIs handle MC's period... because, well, I’m dealing with the emotional rollercoaster myself right now...

After a long day at work, you step outside, only to find him waiting for you. Confused, you approach, wondering why he’s here, and he studies you intently before checking his phone.

It’s the first day of your period.

Xavier brightens (not literally) the moment he sees you.

“Hey. How was work? Are you feeling okay?”

You tilt your head, confused by his sudden concern. Before you can ask, Xavier glances at his phone, scrolling for a moment before looking back at you with a sheepish smile.

“It’s, uh… that time of the month, right?” His voice is gentle, almost hesitant. “I just wanted to check if you needed anything.”

Without waiting for an answer, he pulls a small bag from behind him. Inside are your favorite comfort snacks, a fluffy heat pack, and a bottle of warm tea.

“I wasn’t sure what would help, so I got a little bit of everything.” He rubs the back of his neck, eyes full of warmth. “And, uh… if you need distractions, I found a cute cat café nearby. Thought it might help.”

His concern is pure and unassuming, and he’s not teasing, not overbearing, just genuinely wanting to make you feel better.

Zayne watches you closely, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. When you look at him confused, he sighs, as if expecting this reaction.

“You tend to forget to take care of yourself,” he murmurs, unlocking his phone and glancing at his notes. “It’s the first day of your period.”

You initially assumed it was just a regular stomach ache.

“You usually get cramps around this time. Have you eaten?” He states it like a fact, like something he’s committed to memory as part of his duty to take care of you.

Before you can even respond, he pulls a small bag from behind him—inside are heat patches, painkillers, and your favorite snacks.

“I don’t want you passing out on the way home,” Zayne says, voice gentle. “Come on, I’ll take you back.”

He doesn’t make a big deal of it. He just makes sure you’re taken care of. Because, to him, that’s what love is.

Rafayel doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. As soon as you approach, he checks his phone before speaking.

“You’re late.”

You blinked in confusion. “Late for what?”

He looks at you, unimpressed. “To take care of yourself, obviously.”

Without another word, he hands you a neatly packed bag. Inside is a precise selection of herbal teas, pain relief patches, and a carefully balanced meal.

“I researched the best remedies,” he states matter-of-factly. “And that is you should rely on me more.”

Well… it’s the closest thing to an admission that he worries about you... very much.

Sylus grins the moment you spot him.

“Took you long enough.” He lifts his phone, scrolling lazily before stopping. “Looks like I got the timing just right.”

You frown. “Timing for what?”

He slings an arm over your shoulders, walking you toward his parked motorcycle. “For me to kidnap you. Thought I’d save you from work misery and get you some comfort food.”

You halted him with a frown, and he released you.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m a very attentive man.” He crosses his arms, tilting his head. “You always get extra grumpy around this time, so I figured I’d do something about it.”

“I'm not grumpy—” Your words were cut off as he gently patted your head.

“I got a whole day planned… comfort food, bad movies, and all the attention you can handle.”

Before you can protest, he grabs the helmet and secures it on you, his usual cocky smirk softening just a bit.

“Don’t argue, sweetie—just let me spoil you today.”

He might play it cool, but the fact that he remembered your cycle down to the day? That says more than his words ever could.

Caleb holds up his phone, wiggling it between his fingers like it’s some grand reveal.

“Today’s a special day.”

You just stare at him, then he leans in closer, voice dropping into a whisper.

“Pipsqueak, don’t tell me you forgot again.”

You looked confused as he let out a low chuckle.

“Your period started, didn’t it?” His teasing grin widens when you gaped at him. “What, don’t look at me like that. I keep track of the important things.”

He tucks his phone away and steps closer, his hand ghosting over your lower back.

“I was wondering if you’d need me to carry you home. Or…” He leans in, lips just by your ear. “...if you’d rather be pampered in bed.”

You gave him a quick smack on the arm, earning a chuckle from him. Then, he ruffles your hair before slipping a warm drink into your hands.

“Drink up. I can’t have you suffering on my watch.”

Hope you all like it, and maybe it helps a bit with period stress and discomfort too! Which one do you like most, and why? Let me know!

SOMEBODY SAID IT AT LAST... SCREAM THIS OUT LOUD

Xavier deserves more love.

There! I said it!

The man has loved mc for three life times now, made a deal with the devil (Ever), traveled across time and space, moved planets, lived on Earth for a few hundred years to save find her, and prevent catastrophe from happening to her, fuck even saving her as Lumiere when she was young.

She is the only one that sees him as himself. As Xavier.

He is kind, and comfortable, and selfless. He deals with immense survivors guilt and loves so deeply.

We talk about Rafayel and Caleb being the yearners and clingers. But have you seen Xavier? He is clingy as fuck, and wants nothing but her. Nothing.

I feel like he gets overlooked so often, partially because he’s not as showy as the rest of LIs. I’m sure some might see him as boring, but he is safe. His relationship with MC is one of closest she has, aside from Caleb. They’re neighbours, and colleagues, and best friends. He is deeply ingrained in her life, and a foundational pilar of support for her.

Put some respect on his name.

Come Back To Me // Multi x Reader

Hey, I'm back with some angst, just for you guys! This one is for all of the lads boys. Concept: You end up in hospital, they wait by your side for you to wake up. Tags: Angst, hospital, mentions of injuries, so much yearning, mentions of blood, might be a bit OOC, all the nicknames. Wordcount: 450-500 words each Masterlist

Writing under cut bc it's long, enjoy

Xavier

The breath he lets out is shaky, vulnerable, as he presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. Perched on the chair next to the bed, his eyes stay focused on your face, the steady rise of your chest, and the bandages decorating your body. 

“You must be sleeping well, you need the rest. You’ve been overworking yourself lately, you know? I’m supposed to be your partner, why didn’t you call me?” His words are barely audible, gentle, yet heavy. Nearly as heavy as the pressure weighing down his chest. 

His heart dropped the moment he received that call, the drowsiness from his nap disappearing in an instant. He was rushing into the hospital before the phone call even ended, there was no second to waste. Blood rushing through his body was the only thing he could hear, as his chest constricted in a barely hidden panic. You have to be alright. Please be alright. 

The moment his eyes fell on you in that hospital room, hooked up to a multitude of wires and machines, his knees nearly buckled. Bandages peeked through the gown on your body as you lay there, still as a statue, still as a corpse. The only thing indicating that you were still here, still alive, was the rise and fall of your chest and the steady beep, beep, beep of a nearby machine. 

His hand gripped yours tighter as he pressed his forehead against your fingers, trying, yet failing, to steady himself. Gone was that calmness of the experienced hunter, instead replaced by a shaky emotion he hasn’t felt in a long time. Fear. He couldn’t lose you again, not like this. He would not survive losing you again, just like he did all that time ago.

“You said you wouldn’t leave, so please, please, come back to me.”

Time seemed irrelevant as the day passed him by, nothing snapping his focus away from you, waiting for you to open your eyes. Your beautiful eyes, the ones that sparkled with joy, a fondness, when you looked at him. He yearned to see that bright smile, the same one when you ate your favourite food, when you won a plushie in the claw machines, when you were up to no good playing pranks on him. The sky outside darkened rapidly, the rush of the hospital settling down into a quietness that was somewhat unsettling. Xavier was yet to move from your bedside, only allowing the nurses to check in on you now and then, refusing to go home even when visiting hours end. 

“Open your eyes when you’re ready, I’ll be here when you wake up, I’m not leaving you ever again. I love you, my starlight. When the morning comes, I hope you’ll be here with me again.”

Rafayel

“Miss Bodyguard, how are you meant to protect me when you’re asleep in hospital? You need to take better care of yourself.” There was a teasing facade in his words, desperately trying to cover up the weakness in his voice. His back was starting to hurt as he leaned forward in the uncomfortable hospital chair, he hadn't eaten or drank or slept in days, but none of that mattered. Not when you were still not waking up, no matter how much he called for you. His hand moved towards your face, brushing away the hair swept across your forehead. 

“You know, you promised me you wouldn’t make me wait again, and yet here we are. Open your eyes cutie, I want to see that beautiful smile again.”

When he heard you ended up in hospital, he immediately dropped everything. The painting he was working on? Forgotten. The art show he was meant to attend? Ignored. The meeting with an investor? Cancelled. There was nothing else on his mind apart from making sure you were okay, that you were alive and coming back to him. When he heard you were unconscious, and not likely to wake up any time soon, he nearly couldn’t make himself take a step through that door, hesitating just long enough to prepare himself. But he wasn’t prepared. He wasn’t prepared for the fear and worry that engulfed him when he saw your form, laying still, unmoving, on the blue sheets of the hospital bed. Even approaching you was a challenge, his legs too shaky to move steadily, and when he finally got there, he had to blink away the tears that welled in his eyes. The paleness in your skin made his brow furrow, his hand coming to rest on your cheek, caressing it ever so gently.

“I told you before to come back to me, safe and sound. Human promises sure are fickle.” His voice broke before he could finish getting his words out as he lay a soft kiss on your forehead. 

He immediately upgraded your room to a private one, ensuring the care you got was top notch in hopes that it would make you wake up sooner. Not once did he leave your side, jumping up at ever twitch of your fingers, at every noise that left your lips. But your eyes didn’t open. He talked and talked, filling the silence, maybe his voice can guide you home, guide you back to him.

“I’ll decorate the cast when you wake up, just tell me what you want me to draw.” 

“My heart is in your hands, Cutie, you have to come back and take care of it.”

Zayne

“You said you’d be careful, and what do you do? What will I do with you?” The sigh he let out was heavy as he put your medical charts down, a hand moving to caress your head, moving the hair from your face. To anyone looking in, he would seem nonchalant, almost cold, but the storm raging inside of him as he gazed on your form was unrelenting, his heart shattering as he redid the bandages on your body. He refused to let any other doctor take your case, he trusted himself enough to provide you with the best care, no matter how much it hurt him to see you like this. He was your doctor after all. And your partner. You could rely on him to take care of you when you needed it. 

“You always scold me when I’m injured, and yet I can’t bring myself to scold you for being this reckless. Seeing you like this, it makes my heart ache, so please wake up, come back to me.”

He was already working when he got the notice that you were on your way in. He intended to carry on with his work, finishing it quickly so he could take care of you. That is until he found out that your condition was critical. He dropped everything, reassigning other staff to cover his patients, so his focus could be entirely on you. They tried to stop him, he was too involved to have a clear head, but he refused, knowing that everything he worked hard to achieve was so that he could take care of you. To help you. And help you he did, no matter how much his hands threatened to shake, no matter the fear that gripped his heart, he still trusted his skill. His only thoughts were to save you. When you were finally stable, he still refused to leave your side. You were more important than any work he had, more important than anything in this world. 

“I can’t do my work when all I can think about is you, here. The only time you should visit the hospital is for your checkups and to see me. Not like this. I’ll make sure you recover quickly, so rest until you’re ready to open your eyes.

Days later, you still didn’t wake up. He kept an eye on your vitals, taking up doing his reports by your bedside. The other staff brought him food, trying to coax him out so he could get some sleep, but to no avail. He talked to you too, when he needed a break, holding your hand, his thumb gently swiping across your knuckles.

“The cafe I told you about has just announced the new dessert menu, I’ll take you there when you wake up. So wake up quickly now, my love.”

Sylus

His fingers worked to soothe the furrow in his brow as he leaned on the chair by the hospital bread, his eyes softening as he analyses the bandages wrapped around your body. The sigh that leaves his mouth is heavy, tired, as he moves to sit in the chair by your side. Silence surrounds him as he works through the unease settled in his chest.

When he found you in that field, his heart might as well have stopped. Mephisto reported what had happened, how you collapsed after fighting off several wanderers, killing the last one before passing out, blood seeping from your wounds. He had never moved faster, racing the streets on his bike, until he had you in his arms. He didn’t think twice about bringing you back to the N109 zone, calling on the best doctors he knew to his door, ensuring you were in the best care. He observed as they worked, scrutinizing their every move, a darkness surrounding him. The doctors, to their credit, worked quickly and efficiently, stabilising your condition, lest they upset the leader of Onychinus. Once he dismissed them, he sat on the edge of the bed, placing his hand firmly on your own.

“Sweetie, no matter how strong you are, I wish you would allow me to help you more. Rely on me, I’m at your beck and call, you know this.” 

He did not move from the room, making sure you were comfortable, that your bandages stayed clean, and that he would be the first to know when you finally woke up. The uneasy feeling never left, and he was sure it wouldn’t until he saw your soft smile and your striking eyes. He desired to hear your laugh, to be on the receiving end of those teasing comebacks, to hold you. You were right here, yet you felt so far away when you slumbered for so long.

“I’ve always allowed you to come and go as you please, but this time, I ask you to come back to me, Kitten.”

His fuse was short in the days that you slept, on edge with everything and anyone who tried to distract him from being with you. He slept on that chair by your bed, had Luke and Keiran run his errands, and took no nonsense from anyone. He couldn’t get settled no matter how much he tried. With yet another sigh, he stroked your hair, traced your features, a gentleness he held towards you that contrasted drastically to how he’s been with everyone else.

“You are my one weakness kitten, but you’re also my strength. You make me want to be better for you. We were destined to meet again, the curse is gone so don’t leave me now.”

“I adore you, my dear sorceress. You chose to stay by my side, so come back to me.”

Caleb

A darkness had settled in his eyes as he examined your form, fear and guilt gripping his heart. He couldn’t move, not even an inch, as the grip on your hand seemed like the only thing keeping him from losing it completely. His eyes were already red, the burning behind his eyes was almost painful, but he shed no tears, he refused. Because you were still here, you were still alive. 

“Pipsqueak, come on, open your eyes for me.” His voice was small, broken, the pain coursing through his body shining through his words.

He didn’t even have time to think before he was rushing to the hospital. When you didn’t arrive to meet him as intended, worry started to bloom. He tried your phone several times just to be sent to voicemail, he knew something was wrong when he was sent to voicemail. He quickly found out, through less than legitimate means, what had happened, and he moved quickly, his mind racing. He rushed through the white halls, bursting through the door to your room. His breath caught in his throat as he took you in, the bandages that decorated your head and body, the bruises peeking from behind them. The stillness of your form brought a panic to him, memories he yearned to forget surfacing once more as he moved to your side, grasping your hand firmly and bringing it to his lips. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. I know you said you didn’t need my protection, and I know you’re strong. You are so strong. But seeing you like this? It kills me inside.”

His whole life was put on hold over the next few days. He would not leave the room, he would not let go of your hand, scrutinising anyone who even suggested he do so. He watched over you vigilantly, ensuring you were comfortable, that your condition remained stable, that you would wake up. Guilt clawed at his heart, refusing to let go. If only he was there when you needed him, you would not have ended up like this. Why did you not call him? Why was he not there?

“Everything I have done, it’s always been for you. To protect you. I want you to depend on me like you used to.” 

His fingers pet your hair as he leaned over you, his violet eyes committing your features to memory. He longed to see your eyes, to hear you tease and banter with him just like old times, to hug you, to hold you. He encouraged you to wake up so many times over these last few days, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll respond to him.

“I have so many things left to say to you, so many things I still want to experience with you. So don’t leave when we’re just getting started.”

“I love you. I love you so much more than you know. Open your eyes so I can tell you.”

When the Dawn Hesitates, the Light Trembles | Oneshot

shen xinghui | xavier x reader

synopsis:

Despite growing up as close companions from childhood, you've always been attuned to the difference in status that separates you and the prince. And yet, as rational as your mind is, your heart on the other hand is an unruly beast that you cannot fully control. With his wedding and departure to a foreign kingdom looming on the horizon, the question still remains on how you'll let go of your feelings and live in a future without him. And if he's willing to do the same.

tags: childhoodfriends!au, royalty!au, mild? angst with a fluffy ending (this is probs the fluffiest/non-dark themes this blog will ever see), unrequited love that's actually requited, prince!xavier x knight!reader

word count: 6.5k

a/n: thank you everyone for the support for the first chapter of my caleb fic! here's a oneshot that was actually written for my friend's bday as evidence that I also write for the other LIs hehe and a throwback to my days writing royalty!aus on tumblr! :> as always, please feel free to send in asks/request!!

You had encountered the prince for the first time as a little girl. He was quiet with the maturity of an adult, despite only being a year older than you. Your mama was his wet nurse. It was only natural for her to introduce you to him.

You remember that your first thought was that he was beautiful—the light of the early spring sun had casted his hair silver, and his eyes were the shade of blue you had heard about only in the fairytales your mama had whispered to you before you fell asleep. He looked exactly like the young prince in the one book your older sister had pointed out when you had passed the bookstore in the square.

You remember pointing at his hair and shouting, “Look, his hair glows like light!”

His gaze, which had looked uninterested, suddenly turned to look at you. Those blue eyes came to life then, and something had shown in them that you, back then, had viewed as mockery rather than amusement. “Is it always your first instinct for you to comment on others’ appearances?”

With a burning heat to your face, you had realized that he was teasing you. You had glowered at him then, and in a fit of childish immaturity, you grabbed a fistful of dirt from the ground and flung it straight onto him. Not your best moment.

Now, many years later, you don’t really remember how your mama spanked your butt red that night and how you had sobbed and said you’d never do it again and how she had forced you to kneel and apologize to the prince and then reverently express gratitude when he had just shrugged it off, when really he had the right to kill of your entire family.

But you do remember how his skin had turned red in his fluster, how his hair still glowed despite the dirt, and how his lips had twitched in agitation. You remember how his eyes had still dazzled you then—emotion, even if it was surprise, had made them a startling azure. These were all things you would always remember, for however long time would pass.

You wouldn’t ever dare say any of these words aloud to anyone. No, these were memories that only you were the keeper of, that you were certain of.

🌙✨

“Haven’t you heard? The King has sent out a declaration that Prince Xavier is getting married!” a maid clamored, as she rushed down the hallway with her friend.

“To who?” her friend gasped.

“To the princess of the neighboring Lucis Kingdom. Oh, I heard she’s a beauty! A perfect match for our prince! He deserves it, after he won over those hordes of wanderers at our border and made a glorious return!”

Her friend tittered in response. “My, perfect might be too strong a word! I bet even a fair princess would have difficulty trying to enthrall our unfeeling prince! I doubt he knows anything beyond the sword.”

She was the first to turn the corner of a hallway, when she collided into a force. “I’m so sorry—,” she was in the middle of her words when she looked up. Her mouth fell open, and her face flushed a bright red.

You had the unfortunate pleasure of being the wall that the maid had bumped into. And, as she probed your face to determine whether you had heard what she had just said (which you had), you opened up your mouth and slowly spoke, “I would be cautious of the words we say aloud in the palace, just as much as we are to be careful while turning the corners.”

The maid looked like she was cowering. But really, you thought, for what reason?

Yes, it was true that you were infamous in the palace for your quickness to anger, especially when it came to the prince. When the royal seamstress had said that Prince Xavier looked less flattering in red, you had threatened to use the blunt edge of your sword and destroy her supplies. But in all honesty, with how calm you had sounded, there really was no reason for her to be looking at you like you were some smoke-breathing dragon.

The maid quickly bobbed her head up and down in agreement. And then her gaze fell to the person behind you, and her face paled white like a sheet. “G-greetings, Y-Your Highness!” she jolted straight up before quickly falling into a bow, and her friend quickly followed her.

You peered around your shoulder, and when you saw a familiar presence lurking behind you, your mouth flattened into a straight line. “Your Highness,” you said flatly, bowing your head down.

He held your gaze, firmly. Your mouth felt dry all of a sudden, and you felt your face redden. This damn temper of yours! And he overheard it all!

But the two of you grew up together. He must’ve been used to your bouts of anger, even now. You don’t even know why you felt heat crawling up your neck. You turned your head away in indignation.

His eyes travelled beyond you to the two maids, and he nodded once. “You may go.” His tone was disinterested, and the maids hastily bowed again before scurrying away past him.

When they left, it was just the two of you left in the hallway. It was tense, and you felt yourself ready to run away, right behind the maids. You tipped your head and was about to turn away when-.

“I didn’t know you still defended me.” His voice was softer this time, unlike the more frigid tone he had used with the maids. “Are we still friends then, I presume?”

Your lips pursed. Memories of last night flooded through your head. You downing the pint of ale. You furiously pointing a finger at him and shouting at him how he could have been so foolish to have thrown himself at you to push you out of the way during battle and get hurt by the sword of the wanderer when it should have been you protecting him and not the other way around. Him yelling back at you—though, what he said and what happened after, your mind could barely remember over the jumble of your brain buzzing with alcohol and anger. You just remember waking up the next day, head pounding and vowing to never drink again.

And here he went again, with that cursed word. Friends. How could you ever be friends? He was a prince, and you were just some lowly ranked girl whose only luck was that her mother had raised him at her bosom. Other than that, you were nothing. You had only your knight title. Nothing like the precious princess of a wealthy kingdom.

You were about to bite out a vicious comment that reflected something along those lines, but something stopped you from spewing out the first vowel.

He would be leaving soon after his wedding. He didn’t have to stay in this kingdom, not when his older brother was already set to sit on the throne. And you wouldn’t follow, not when it would tear you apart to see them together, to keep seeking above your station when you knew it was unfeasible. So friend, that horrible ill-fitting term, you would hold onto until you couldn’t. You felt yourself wilt in response, and you were certain he had picked up that something was odd about you today.

So you sucked in a deep breath and nodded. “Friends, if you can say that, Your Highness.”

The corners of his lips tugged up in amusement. “So you’ll stop calling me Your Highness then? You know my name. Use it.”

Your mouth was dry all over again, and you felt like you were going to heave all over the floor. It must’ve been the leftover ale brewing in your stomach. It must’ve.

You forced a smile. It probably looked menacing. “People will overhear, and it’s not good for someone like me to be calling you by your name when you’ll be mar-.”

His gaze remained steady.

You swallowed. Fuck.

“Is it an order?” you murmured. Your rude tone, if the head palace maid had heard you, would have sent you straight to a flogging. But Prince Xavier, aside from when you had thrown dirt on his head as a little girl and...and last night, was magnanimous. Nothing could unsettle him, well...maybe except for you.

You did remember that time one of the other knights-in-trainings had been spewing insults about your background and yes, you maybe thought then about swinging your sword down on him (blunt or non-blunt side unconfirmed) but you wouldn’t have done it, not when it would have put your own position as a trainee at risk and left you unable to stay by Xavier’s side.

Xavier had been different though. He had challenged that knight-in-training in a duel during practice and left him black-and-blue. And then that trainee had somehow been removed from the ranks and ended up leaving back to his hometown.

But maybe that was all just wishful thinking on your part.

Hearing no response, your eyes shifted back to him briefly. He just stood there, looking almost pitiful. And it seemed like he had turned slightly so that the bandaged part of his arm was even more obvious to you. A prince? Pitiful? You could guffaw in amusement.

You let out a long sigh.

“Xavier,” your voice was barely above a hush.

He gave you one of those rare smiles of his, the kind that had you breathless as a little girl and breathless even now. On days when he did smile at you, you could never fall asleep. Whenever you closed your eyes, you would see his smile and the way his blue eyes had shone. Oh, tonight would be no different.

You needed fresh air.

You swiftly turned on your heel and headed out towards the pathway to the gardens. His footsteps sounded after you, even as you quickened your pace. But let him follow you—it wasn’t any of your business what he was up to in his free time. And honestly, you didn’t even have a destination in mind.

As the sun warmed up your skin and the smell of flowers sweetened the air, you felt yourself reminiscing. These days would be long gone soon. It was already against propriety for the two of you to still be this close, especially after both of you had come of age. Maybe, maybe it would be good for you to leave all of this behind when Xavier left. So that you didn’t spend the rest of your days an old bitter hag surrounded by reminders of the past.

You were lost in your thoughts as you ambled your way. You were about to take a step forward when you felt a tug at your sleeve, and suddenly, you were falling back. Your back hit a firm chest, and you winced at the collision.

“Ow! What’d you do that for?” you grumbled. You turned your head back, about to bite out another complaint, but your mouth hinged open when you realized that your face was much tooclose to his. You could see the flecks of light blue in his eyes, the way his light-colored eyelashes were trembling, and the slight reddening tint to his skin. He was somehow warmer than the spring air, his body heat seeping against your back. And he smelled like soap and something deeper that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You turned and pushed him away by the chest, stumbling back and crashing right into the trunk of a tree.

As you swore under your breath, you heard the sound of laughter. You looked over, irritated. He had his finger raised, pointing right behind you. His other hand attempted to cover his face but you could catch a glimpse of his smile.

“You were about to bump into a tree. I was trying to,” he huffed in a shaky breath, “to stop you from falling.”

Your mouth opened in protest, and you swiftly clamped it shut. Some knight you were. You could take down wanderers of any size and difficulty, but a mere tree was apparently your biggest opponent.

And suddenly you were laughing now too. All the anger, resentment, and bitterness from earlier seemed to fade away. You didn’t think of the past. You didn’t think of the future, of him wedding a beautiful princess and raising heirs with his silver hair and her colored eyes, of you never seeing him again for the rest of your lifetimes. All you thought that it felt good to be standing here with him.

🌙✨

The queen was a beautiful woman. With her long silver hair coiled up in an intricate hairdo and her silver eyes, she looked like a celestial beauty that had fallen onto earth in a gown of deep blue. You could see that Xavier had gotten his looks from her. But while Xavier had the mild temperament of the King underneath his seemingly cold exterior, the Queen was all fire and ice.

“Your Majesty,” you kneeled down onto a knee in a deep bow. She was silent for a long time, taking a long sip of tea from her cup. It was one of the petty tricks that she often played when she was displeased. But you were a knight—what was kneeling on a plush carpet for a little bit compared to sleeping on the cold ground of a forest, unable to rest properly in case a wanderer appeared?

After a seemingly endless time passed, you heard her set down her cup. Her voice tinkled out like bells. “Rise, Dame.”

You rose to your feet. You kept your head bowed.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten a good look at you,” she spoke, “Raise your head.”

You tilted your head up but kept your gaze lowered. She hummed out. You could hear the bracelets that adorned her wrists clinking together as she tapped a finger thoughtfully onto her bottom lip.

“You’ve become more beautiful these years. One wouldn’t expect you to be born from a mere commoner. Even unwomanly duties such as knighthood have not tarnished you.”

“This lowly servant is not worthy of Your Majesty’s praise,” you spoke, as you lowered your head again. You felt unsettled. Compliments from the Queen always had another purpose.

“Hush, child. I can see why even my son has softened towards you.” She hummed, her voice light and airy. “You see, when I married His Majesty, I was a year younger than you are now. I had lived as the princess of a small kingdom, so when his proposal came, there was no choice for me other than to agree. But I tried anyways.”

You remained silent.

“You see, the foolish me of my youth had loved a knight then and wanted to elope with him.” She laughed. “But when I tried to run away with him, my father caught me and had the knight stripped of his titles, tortured, and banished. All those years he had spent in service of our kingdom, and look what he threw away for a fleeting passion.” You felt her gaze fall back onto you. It felt sharp, like a blade.

“You understand my meaning, don’t you? Xavier is set to wed a princess. A political alliance with the Lucis Kingdom will be beneficial for everyone’s sake. A commoner like you.” She paused to laugh again. “Well, I am pleased that you have been able to make a knight of yourself. But make no mistake, that’s as high as you can climb up.”

She gestured a hand out, and you saw a wooden chest enter your periphery. “This is more than enough money to support you and any other ambitions you may have. You’d never have the opportunity to get your lowly hands on this much money. Take this money, and leave. Leave the palace as soon as you can, before the end of this season, so that Xavier does not hesitate in his upcoming nuptials with Lucis’s Princess.”

You raised your head to make direct eye contact with her then. Your eyes were fierce as you sternly shook your head. “Your Majesty, this lowly servant is well aware of her own station and does not dare to go beyond it. This lowly servant is not worthy of your noble gift, for her lowly hands would tarnish its value.” You dipped into a bow again before swiftly turning on your heel and marching out of the room.

You heard the crash of her cup hitting the wall from behind you, but you kept marching forward. Though you felt pity for the maids who would have to deal with her wrath, you knew that it would not have done you any good to have accepted her money.

You had been truthful with the Queen. You did know your station, and you also knew that you would never be able to go beyond it.

Your decision had been made long before you stepped into the room. In fact, it had been made even before you had heard news of Xavier’s nuptials.

It was final then. You would leave on your own terms, using your own money.

🌙✨

You knew you couldn’t stay in the capital. Linkon was a place full of reminders. If you peeked close enough, you could see the alleyways where you and Xavier had snuck bags of toasted walnuts when he was still young and still looked sweet enough to hide his stubbornness—though now, this sweetness had melted into a mildness that still hid his stubbornness well. You could remember the place Xavier had gifted you a small flower pin from the day you were admitted to knight training. And you could remember on one of those excursions where your cape had gone loose and he had reached out to tie it—the brush of his fingers against your lapel and the way your head had swelled up in a rush of blood...How could you stay in a place with all these reminders?

Sure, your family would miss you a little, but after your parents passed away and your siblings grew up, they were more worried about making a living and taking care of their own families. And besides, you could always visit them some time in the distant future.

No, you wanted to go somewhere peaceful and isolated, where nothing from the past could affect you.

As Linkon prepared to send its prince off to a wedding, you spent your time preparing for your own plans. When you weren’t training or taking on missions to take down wanderers, you found yourself perusing over a map that you had bought off a passing merchant.

The nearby city was too close, barely a day’s ride away by horse.

The region to the East looked good on paper, but you knew the noble families that had their territories there had close ties with the Queen. It wouldn’t be good for you to stay in a place where it would be easy for her to keep tabs on you. After all, you wanted to leave for the sake of your own freedom away from any royal’s influence.

Your pointer finger skimmed towards a small town to the West. It was about a week’s ride from the capital, 6 days if you pushed your horse, and near the border, so it was often experiencing unrest from stray wanderers. You could keep making some money there by going on small missions. And with the wages you had saved up and the money you could get from pawning off the uselessly luxurious gifts Xavier had given you over the years, even when you were old and unable to make money off of fighting wanderers, you could still live quite comfortably.

When you made your final decision, you quickly sprung into action. But when you asked Xavier for some time off, he had peered over his documents and looked at you skeptically. You could see why he saw it odd—you hadn’t taken a day off the moment you had entered knight’s training. But with the issue at the border contained, you were able to convince him that it was for the sake of spending some time traveling to get your head back on right. With reluctance, he stamped his seal of approval on your request.

You set off the following day. You didn’t need to prepare much—just enough money for food and your lodgings. But you felt odd as you went from city to city and then eventually from city to town.

It felt like someone was tailing you. The feeling started the moment you had left the gates of the capital, and even when you were deep into the crowds of an inn, you still felt a gaze on you. But whenever you looked, you would see the faint white of a cloak before it vanished.

It must’ve been one of the Queen’s people. So when you were about to reach your next town, only a day’s travel away from your intended destination, you decided to veer off course. Instead of going straight through the main road, you sharply turned off into the woods and urged your horse deep into the undergrowth. You then quickly dismounted and let your horse stray.

By the time the person following you entered the woods and saw your horse by itself, it was too late. You swung them off their horse, shoving them right into the dirt, and pressed your blade against their throat.

“Did the Queen send y-?” You hissed, reaching out to yank the hood down. The rest of the words you were about to say died in your throat as you squinted down at the familiar face. “Xavier?”

He looked at you with the firm steady look in his eyes, as if that was enough to convince you of whatever lie he had spun. But his ears flushed red—a clear giveaway. “What a coincidence...I was planning on checking the state of the borders, and we happen to be headed the same way.”

You laughed dryly. “Certainly, Xavier. Then you don’t mind if we part ways at the next town. I’m planning on taking a restful and slow vacation, and you must be in a hurry to get to the border then.”

He shamelessly shook his head. “I mean, the issue at the border is settled and wouldn’t change in less than a fortnight. They don’t need to see me there that urgently.” His lips curled up faintly at the corner.

You scowled. This prince! He was lying right to your face, and he didn’t seem like he had an ounce of guilt about it. “Well, what would other people think about us then? Only a married couple would be traveling together. Do you want people to presume about our relationship, Your Highness?” You threw your hands up. “And what about your safety? There isn’t a single other knight here from the squad!”

He shrugged his shoulders lightly. “Well, that’s for them to assume. And if you call me by my name, then no one would know who I am, and I wouldn’t be in danger. Besides, I don’t need other knights either. We’re already a good team, aren’t we, Partner?”

You huffed and spun around on your heel, about to start your search for your horse. There was no winning with him. As you found your mare and hoisted yourself up onto her, you squinted down at Xavier, who still looked idle.

“And where’s your horse?” you crossed your arms.

He looked around for a second and then looked back up at you. “It looks like it left. You don’t mind me riding with you, right? Besides...,” his voice softened, and his eyes looked sleepy all of a sudden, “Sleeping these past nights haven’t been too restful for me. I worried that I’d wake up and you would be already gone. I can catch up on some sleep if we ride together.”

Before you could protest, he had already settled himself behind you. His arms looped around your waist. When you turned around to gape at him, flabbergasted, he already had his head tilted down and his eyes closed.

You turned back and grabbed the reins, urging your mare back to the main road. When you were certain that he was actually asleep, you let yourself relax for a bit. You’d drop him off at the next inn and send a carrier back to the palace. By the time he woke up the next morning (or noon, with how his sleeping schedule was), you’d already be almost to your destination.

You were lost in thought and didn’t notice his grip around you tense a bit, not until you heard his voice murmur from behind you. “What did you mean about my mother? I heard she had forced you to meet with her as of late...What did she do?” Despite its softness, you could hear a slight edge to his voice.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to decide what to say to him. “She didn’t say or do anything. Just that, you know...she helped me realize that it would be good for me to start thinking about my future, beyond the castle.”

There was a pause.

“And how are you planning on doing that?”

You cleared your throat. “I mean...I only became a knight because it was a good way for me to help the kingdom and to stay by your side. Now that you’re getting married and leaving, I...I can’t say I know what my next steps are. But it’d be good for me to see more of the world, beyond fighting wanderers and...and as much as I enjoyed it...beyond being your childhood friend.”

After all, you had naively thought you could have stayed by his side forever. How naive of you.

It was silent. Seconds and then minutes and then more passed. You assumed then that he had fallen asleep.

But even as the ride was quiet, both of you slightly swaying with the movement of your horse and his eyes were closed, you didn’t even notice that his fingers were trembling.

🌙✨

The next town was exceptionally quaint. The two of you had reached it right after when the sky was almost beginning to dim and the heat of the sweltering sun had finally dissipated. There was the smoky smell of meat grilling, and groups of children ran past the two of you laughing and pushing each other around. You could hear string music just ahead, and a crowd was gathered around a skit.

Xavier and you talked little as the two of you traversed the space. Only when you had been planning on buying a skewer of lamb had he gently nudged your fingers away from your coin pouch and placed his own coins down. “Allow me,” he hummed. The two of you walked in silence as you nibbled on the meat—even though it originally came from a more rough cut, the way the vendor had cooked it had made it tender and fragrant.

As you scanned the trinkets of the vendor, your fingers lingered on a small hairpin. It was a white flower with a blue gem in the middle, the same shade of blue as Xavier’s eyes, attached to a fragile silver stick. You thought about purchasing it then. A little trinket, that you could carry around as a memory of the night.

Your fingers flexed, as if to grab hold of it.

And then you dropped them. No, it wouldn’t be good for you to carry around all these reminders. You gave an apologetic smile to the vendor and turned away, carrying on to the next stall.

“Why didn’t you buy it?”

You turned around at the sound of Xavier’s voice and bumped into him. You knew he had been following you, but you didn’t know when he had gotten so close—maybe it was the crowd jostling the two of you together. But, as you scanned the surroundings, most of the crowd had already wandered off to gather around a stage where a play was taking place.

“I just,” you felt flustered at having been caught. “It’s not the most fitting for me. It just seems-,” you swallowed dryly, “like it’s beyond my station.”

The two of you had stepped off into a small quiet corner. Despite how dim the lighting was, you could still see the flecks of light in his eyes. He was quiet for a moment before pulling out something from his pocket.

When you saw the glint of blue, you sputtered out, “W-what! Xavier, you shouldn’t have!”

He tilted his head to look down at you, in a way that made every nerve of yours prickle. His gaze was intense. He reached out with a hesitant hand and placed it tenderly against the side of your head. “May I?” his voice was low.

You relented, nodding.

He nudged your head so that it would turn. With quick nimble fingers, he coiled your hair and slid the hairpin through. But even when he was done, his hand hadn’t left you. It instead slid down so that it was cupping your chin.

“I just remembered how you used to wear the flower pin all the time. But then one day you stopped.”

His thumb softly brushed against your skin. God, your throat was dry again.

“Why?” his voice was searching.

Of course, you knew why. You loved that pin. You still love that pin. And even when you had gone on wanderer excursions you had kept it on you still, tucked under your clothes. But the day you had heard news of his engagement, you had thrown it away.

But you couldn’t say that. Instead, you shrugged your shoulders and reached up to push his hand off you. You couldn’t look straight at him.

“I...I don’t know. It just...fell out of use.”

He hummed out a sound that sounded like disappointment. “Is that like us? Do you think we fell out of use too?”

You jolted and looked at him. “No...Xavier, I’m...I’m not someone who deserves to be close to you. You’re...”

“I’m what?” He sounded almost desperate now. But he couldn’t have been desperate about you, could he?

And you didn’t know what to say, but you knew what you wanted to say: You’re getting married. You’re leaving. You can’t keep giving me false hope that I’m special.

But you didn’t say anything of that. And maybe what you said next was worst than all of those statements combined. You just looked at him, with something that you were certain was akin to anguish in your eyes.

“I love you, Xavier.” And when you started, you couldn’t stop. “I have loved you since the moment I saw you. But...you’re...You’re not mine, Xavier. And you’ll never be.”

The moment you registered what you said, you were horrified. Your hands flew to your mouth and before you knew what you were doing, you had turned and started sprinting.

Your mind was spinning. Screw the waiting until the next morning. You couldn’t keep seeing him any longer. Now that you said everything that you shouldn’t have. You didn’t even look at where you were going but you knew you just had to be away, to gather your thoughts and dignity that the next time you saw him again, you could laugh and pretend that it was just the sips of ale that you had taken earlier and you were actually talking about a different Xavier.

Before you could fully slip away, you felt hands wrap around your shoulder and pull you back. You turned sharply, just in time to miss colliding with a group of kids that had tumbled out of seemingly nowhere.

“You can’t just,” Xavier’s fingers were firm, but you could feel them trembling around your skin, “say that and leave.”

Your eyes darted around your surroundings. God, the play had ended and the crowd was already dispersing. You didn’t want to attract any more attention, but you were frantic with distress. You let him pull you away from the crowd and set you down to a seat, staying silent until you were certain there were no other eyes on you.

“I’m, I, I just can’t,” you were shaking now too. Or had you already been shaking? “Can you just forget it, everything I said?”

He laughed. It sounded sarcastic. “Like I was meant to forget what you had said that night when you were drunk, how you said you would never leave my side for the rest of your life.” His voice softened then. “And how I was meant to forget that you had kissed me.”

You buried your face into your hands and let out a groan. “I’m...I did that? Of course, I said something foolish like that.”

And then you registered his second sentence. You bolted up to a standing position. “I kissed you?!”

He seemed calm, but you knew every detail about him—his ears were flushed red, and you could see that his face was hazy with a soft pink. Oh, how foolish were you?

“My sincerest apologies!” you blurted out. “I should have never, I would have never. I said that? I did that?!”

You were hysterical now. Perhaps you should grab your sword now and stab yourself through the heart with it. Your hand was about to reach for your sheath when a hand stopped you.

“If you had not decided to run away before you could listen, to hear my response to your promise,” he spoke firmly, “you would have known that I have shared the same feelings as you.”

You stopped.

“The moment we met, the moment I saw that girl and had her fling dirt on me and how even when she apologized for doing so there was a fire in her that showed that she didn’t think what she did was any wrong,” he laughed. His hands moved up, until they rested on your waist, “I have to admit that I have been hopelessly captured by her. The way she smiles when she finds the dishes she likes and frowns when they aren’t up to par, the way she falls asleep deeply in a second with her mouth wide open, the way she never hesitates to rush in to defend someone with her sword.”

His hands then dragged up until they were once again cupping your face.

“And how I have never been courageous enough to tell her all of these things. That behind it all, when it comes to her I am just a cowardly man. That I get anxious when she doesn’t talk to me, when she decides to do something she’s never done, to such an extent that I become a foolish man who can’t even say a word out of fear of losing her. Because to me, she is my most beloved.”

He swiped his thumb against your bottom lip. His face was getting closer to you. You didn’t push him away.

The kiss was soft and gentle. It felt like sunlight brushing against your lips. You melted under his touch. Prickles of heat surged underneath your skin. 

When you finally parted, he asked, his voice slightly strained, “Will you forget about this too?”

You hadn’t even registered that you were tearing up until you felt him brush away the first drop as it hit your cheek. “I -I must. You are engaged. You will marry another.”

He shook his head. “And in doing so, lose my beloved? Those were all rumors that the Queen had made to force me into this engagement, because she recognized that I love another. That I love you. That I would only marry one, if she would have me.”

You wanted to implore more then. To ask more questions about what it meant for you to say yes and whether it was truly moral for you to allow your Prince to cast aside his duty for you and would it even be worth it.

But you had spent a long time overthinking and asking yourself all sorts of questions. You didn’t want to worry about the future, about the consequences, and what it meant for you to fully defy the Queen’s orders.

All you thought about was how, out of all the questions you have ever had, he had answered the first one.

That memory of the first time you met, he too was a keeper of them. The feelings of those simpler days, when the two of you were young and not quite aware of the difference in status between you and you had kept watch for the head tutors when he would skip his classes to sleep under the great tree but found your own eyes slipping back to him, surged through you.

And to you, that was enough to let you close your eyes and pull him in for another kiss.

Whatever came tomorrow came tomorrow. If you chose to stay, if you chose to leave, rather than uncertainty plaguing you like it had before, you felt certain that this warmth would never leave your side.

✨Extra✨:

He had been careful to not spoil the surprise. It was the day that you would finally start knight training, and he had spent the last couple of days carefully stitching each petal together onto the hairpin.

He had always acquired skills easily, but even though the tutor had complimented his work, he still felt a little embarrassed of the quality. Sure, you would look beautiful in it because you looked beautiful in anything. But was it good enough for you? Would you like that it came from him?

He felt the pin in his pocket again. Should he wait for you to be done? Where should he wait for you?

You had found him the second you were done, your skin flushed and glowing with sweat. His mouth felt a little dry then as you beamed at him.

“We just started training to boost our stamina but pretty soon I’ll have the sword in hand and we’ll be defeating wanderers left and right!” you motioned a sword with your arms. “But training is pretty intense, as you can remember, Sir Head Knight. I won’t be able to come find you like I usually do.”

He didn’t remember how he got to presenting to you with the pin, but as he placed it in your hands, he remembered his mind went blank and suddenly he spoke: “I bought it just now. It’s not the best quality, so if you don’t wear it, it’s alright.”

You had already snatched the pin from his hands and was already working it into your hair. When you were done, you gestured wildly at it and grinned. “A gift for your future accomplice?”

He swallowed again. You really did look even more beautiful than he could have imagined.

Before he knew it, he had come closer. A thick strand of your hair had fallen out of the hairstyle, and he had it in his clutch, pressing a soft kiss on it. Your smile went stiff.

“No, it’s a gift for my future partner.”

A/N: let me know your thoughts! fics are always unedited so if any grammar mistakes or run-on sentences catch your eye...uhhhh no they didn't! and as always, my inbox is open!

᧔o᧓ comfort .ᐟ

xavier love and deepspace fluff/slight angst! x female reader. comfort fic. reader is in a deep depression. ong this is js based on me. she feels so empty but keeps going like a robot. xavier helps her feel better. i just wrote this for comfort to myself because i havent been feeling well at all.

Xavier didn’t question why today you seemed to crave his touch and attention more than usual. Normally, affection flowed freely between you and your boyfriend, but lately, an unshakable heaviness had settled in your heart, dimming your once vibrant spirit. Despite your unwavering love for Xavier, nurtured and deepened through time, the weight of depression had become an unwelcome companion.

You lounged in the bedroom of your shared apartment, having not left bed since the previous afternoon. Xavier noticed the deterioration, how you stayed awake till morning, slept through the day, and needed reminders to eat. When he checked on you, concern etched in his features, you waved him off with a feeble excuse about needing a break from hunting, urging him to focus on work.

How was he to continue his day knowing the woman he cherished was in pain? He knew better than to pry when you weren’t ready to open up, fearing it might worsen your state. Yet today, when he returned home, you greeted him at the doorway in one of his hoodies and shorts, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “Miss you,” you whispered, seeking solace in Xavier’s embrace. He held you tightly, his voice a comforting balm as he asked, “How are you today, my love?” Tears welled in your eyes at his tenderness, and as they spilled over, Xavier gently lifted you into his arms and carried you back to bed.

His murmured reassurances were soft as he laid you down, his hand soothingly rubbing your back. “I’m here. I won’t leave,” he promised, his caring gaze a lifeline in the storm of your emotions. Gratefulness swelled within you for a boyfriend as attentive and loving as Xavier.

Quickly shedding his work clothes for comfort, Xavier slid under the covers beside you. His skilled hands encircled your waist as he drew you close, pressing kisses to the crown of your head. You clung to his scent, fingers tightening on his shirt as if afraid he might vanish. Tears continued to streak your cheeks, each one a testament to the ache in Xavier’s heart. He leaned closer, kissing away your tears, silently urging you to speak.

“Sorry for pushing you away lately,” you finally began, your voice cracking with emotion. Xavier shook his head gently, his thumb brushing away the remnants of tears. “You don’t need to apologise, angel.”

“I feel so lost, Xavi... I don’t understand what I’m feeling... I love you, that hasn’t changed, but I feel drained, empty. I feel like I’m just going through the motions, like a hollow shell. I push you away because I’m terrified of dragging you into this void with me. I feel selfish that you take care of me like this, like some sort of burden.”

Xavier listened quietly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin, his eyes never leaving yours. When you finished, he caressed your hips tenderly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Never feel terrified about ‘dragging’ me anywhere. Whatever you’re going through, I want to be there with you. I love you deeply, and I’ll be patient. If you need space, I’ll give it. If you want me close, I’ll stay. If you want to stay in bed, wear my clothes, I’ll support you every step.”

His eyes held yours with unwavering sincerity, offering you his heart and strength. You hiccupped through a smile, feeling a weight lift as Xavier’s words enveloped you in warmth and security. “I love you,” he whispered again, his touch tender against your tear-streaked face.

“I love you too,” you replied softly, leaning into his touch. Xavier kissed you lovingly, pouring his heart into the moment, promising silently to be your anchor in the storm until the darkness lifted.

“If you feel like a void, let me fill it with everything I have to give,” he murmured against your lips, sealing the vow with a kiss.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

You sit beside Xavier on the bench in the park, watching people pass by as golden afternoon light filters through the leaves. The air smells of fresh-cut grass and distant food carts. A stylish couple walks past, the woman’s laughter musical, her confidence evident in every step.

“I wish I was pretty like her,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him, your fingers absently tracing patterns on the wooden bench.

Xavier turns to you, his expression shifting to one of genuine confusion. His brows furrow deeply, eyes widening just a fraction.

“What... did you say?” he asks, his tone remaining even despite the clear puzzlement in his eyes. He shifts his body toward you, giving you his full attention.

“Nothing, just...” you gesture vaguely toward the retreating couple. “Sometimes I don’t feel very attractive. Especially around people like that.”

Xavier stares at you for a long moment, looking genuinely bewildered. The silence stretches between you, broken only by distant children’s laughter and birdsong.

“I don’t understand,” he finally says.

You start to explain, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his unwavering gaze, but he gently places his hand over yours, the warmth of his palm surprising against your skin.

“No,” he interrupts, shaking his head slightly. “I mean I don’t understand why you would think that. It doesn’t make sense.” His thumb traces a small circle on the back of your hand. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he states matter-of-factly. “I’ve always thought so.”

Coming from Xavier, the sincerity in his voice makes your heart skip.

“You don’t have to say that,” you protest weakly, looking down at where his hand covers yours.

Xavier shakes his head, leaning closer. “I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. I don’t...” he pauses, carefully selecting his words, “understand how you can’t see what I see.”

His fingers tighten around yours, the pressure gentle but grounding. “Every time I look at you, I...” He struggles with the words, clearly moving outside his comfort zone. A faint color touches his usually pale cheeks. “From a purely objective standpoint, the way you look—” He stops, frustrated with himself, and takes a deep breath.

“That’s not what I meant to say.” He closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, there’s a rare vulnerability there. “What I mean is that you’re beautiful. In every way that matters. Your smile when you’re excited about something. The way your eyes light up when you talk about things you care about. How your whole face changes when you’re lost in thought.”

He reaches up with his free hand, hesitating just shy of touching your face. “I’ve remembered every expression you make. I’ve studied them all.” He looks away, embarrassed by his own earnestness. “You’re beautiful. Please, don’t think otherwise.”

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly, as if relieved to have expressed something he’s held inside for too long. He doesn’t let go of your hand for the rest of the afternoon.

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

You’re helping Zayne organize his medical journals in his office as late afternoon shadows stretch across the polished floors. The pristine space feels both clinical and comforting—much like the man himself.

As you reach up to place a heavy volume on the top shelf, you catch your reflection in the large window overlooking the city. The bright lighting does you no favors.

“Ugh,” you mutter, tugging self-consciously at your clothes. “I look awful today.”

Zayne glances up from his desk where he’s been meticulously updating patient files. He sets down his pen, the soft click audible in the sudden silence. His eyes, usually so focused on his work, now study you with that penetrating gaze that seems to see beneath surfaces.

“What brought this on?” he asks, his voice filling the room.

“Nothing specific,” you say, turning away from your reflection. “Just... some days I don’t feel pretty, that’s all.”

Zayne stands. He gestures to the leather chair beside his own. “Sit.”

You comply, watching as he leans against his desk, arms folded across his chest. The setting sun through the windows casts half his face in shadow, highlighting the sharp angles of his features.

“Are you overthinking again?” he asks directly, but there’s no judgment in his tone. “Or did someone say something to you today?”

“Just overthinking, I guess,” you admit, fidgeting under his steady gaze.

He nods once, as if confirming a diagnosis. “I see.” He’s silent for a moment.

“Beauty is subjective,” he begins. “But if you’re asking for my opinion...” The corner of his mouth twitches in what might be the ghost of a smile. “You’re more than perfect. Inside and out.”

When you start to protest, he raises a hand to stop you.

“I don’t make observations lightly. You know that.” His eyes hold yours. “I’ve studied human anatomy for years. I’ve seen thousands of faces.” He leans forward slightly. “None of them affect me the way yours does.”

The admission seems to surprise even him, a rare moment of vulnerability from someone so carefully composed.

Suddenly, he reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a small chocolate wrapped in gold foil. It’s from the exclusive chocolatier across town—the one he pretends not to favor.

He places it in your palm, his fingers lingering against yours longer than necessary. “Here,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “Sweet for the sweet.”

Before you can respond, he leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead. The momentary closeness allows you to catch the subtle scent of his aftershave mingled with antiseptic.

“Now,” he says, straightening himself, “wait for me to finish organizing these journals so we can go home. I’m thinking of dinner at that place you like on Fifth Street.” He turns back to his desk, but not before adding, “And no more nonsense about not being pretty. I won’t have the person I care for most questioning their worth.”

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

You’re sitting on the private beach adjoining Rafayel’s seaside studio, watching him add final touches to a vibrant seascape painting. The ocean stretches endlessly before you, waves crashing rhythmically against the shore. The air tastes of salt and fresh breeze. Seagulls circle overhead, their calls mingling with the gentle lapping of water against sand.

Rafayel stands before his painting, completely absorbed in his work. Paint splatters decorate his rolled-up sleeves and there’s a smudge of blue across his cheekbone. The wind tousles his already disheveled hair as he captures the dance of light on water.

A group of beautiful people laugh further down the beach, their perfect silhouettes outlined against the setting sun. You glance down at yourself, then back at them, feeling suddenly out of place in this picturesque setting.

“I don’t think I’m pretty enough for this place,” you whisper, the breeze carrying your words away—or so you think.

Rafayel’s hand freezes. He turns to you slowly, paint-speckled fingers stilling on the canvas, his expression transforming from focus to complete disbelief.

“What did you just say?” His usually playful voice has an edge to it now, sharp as broken glass.

“Nothing, just thinking out loud,” you reply, regretting having spoken at all.

“No, no, no,” he sets his palette down with a clatter on the small table beside him. “You don’t get to say things like that and dismiss them as ’nothing.’” In an instant, he takes a seat on your side. “Did someone say something to you?” he demands, looking around the empty beach as if searching for culprits. “Which human do I need to have a word with?”

“No one said anything, Rafayel. It’s just how I feel sometimes,” you admit.

“That’s even worse! Your own mind betraying you like this?” He runs his fingers through his hair. “This is an emergency. A catastrophe of the highest order!”

He grabs your shoulders. “You are an absolute masterpiece. Do you understand? A masterpiece. I know art. I create art. I live and breathe beauty in all its forms. And you—” he pokes your cheek lightly, leaving a tiny dot of turquoise paint, “—are the finest creation I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

When you try to look away, embarrassed by his intensity, he gently tilts your chin back. The setting sun reflects in his eyes, turning them to liquid gold. “The ocean is jealous of your depths. The stars envy your brilliance.” His voice softens, becoming almost reverent. “And I would swim across every sea before I let you believe you’re anything less than stunning.”

He wraps his arms around you suddenly, clinging like a child. “Now don’t say such ridiculous things again. It offends my artistic sensibilities.”

He then stands, pulling you up with him. “Come on. We’re going to watch the sunset together. I’ll show you how I see you.” He places a brush in your hand, his fingers lingering. “And maybe then you’ll understand why I can’t look away.”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

You stand before the massive floor-to-ceiling windows in Sylus’s penthouse suite, overlooking the sprawling N109 Zone from stories up. The city stretches below like a circuit board of neon and shadow, vehicles and people reduced to tiny moving points of light. The luxurious room behind you is bathed in the soft glow of artfully placed lamps illuminating his collection of rarities—collections plucked from across time and space.

Catching your reflection in the darkened glass, superimposed over the glittering cityscape, you murmur without thinking, “I don’t know why you keep me around. I’m not even pretty.”

The room falls silent. You hear Sylus set down whatever gem he was examining, the soft clink of crystal against metal followed by his steady steps as he approaches.

“What an odd thing to say,” he remarks, his voice silky yet sharp as a blade, “because you’re entirely incorrect.”

You turn to find him watching you, head slightly tilted.

“Did I hear you questioning your beauty?” A smirk plays on his lips, but his eyes remain serious, almost stern. “After all this time with me, you should know very well that I have exceptional taste.”

He closes the distance between you. He places his hands on your waist, positioning you both so your reflections are visible in the window. His gaze in the reflection holds nothing but admiration.

“Do you think I surround myself with anything less than perfection?” He gestures to the rare treasures adorning his collection shelf—items worth more than most people earn in a lifetime. “Do you imagine I would waste my time on someone who didn’t captivate me entirely?”

His fingers trace your jawline, feather-light. “Hundreds of rare gems, ancient artifacts, priceless paintings—I collect only the extraordinary, the unique.” His voice drops lower, more intimate. “And yet, not one of these treasures compares to your presence and beauty.”

When you start to protest, he places a finger gently against your lips. “I don’t tolerate self-deprecation from the one person in this universe I genuinely cherish.”

He turns you to face him fully now, both hands cupping your face with surprising tenderness from someone so powerful, so used to taking what he wants. Your disbelief must show on your face because he chuckles softly.

“Your beauty is not up for debate, not even by you. Challenge me on anything else if you wish, demand whatever your heart desires—but on this matter, I will not yield.”

He steps back after brushing a kiss against your forehead, apparently considering the matter settled. “Now come here and tell me what you want instead of what you think you lack. That’s much more productive, don’t you agree?”

He gestures to the plush sofa. “Sit down and tell me about your day today. I haven’t heard you talking about it.” His expression softens further. “Let’s talk about that instead.”

As you join him, he casually drapes an arm around you, pulling you closer. “And tomorrow,” he murmurs against your hair, “I’ll show you exactly how beautiful you are to me. I have something special planned—something worthy of you.”

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

You’re absently scrolling through your phone as you accompany Caleb while he sorts through Fleet reports in his home office. The space reflects his dual nature—military precision in the organized shelves and structured workspace, but touches of warmth in the photographs and mementos from his DAA days. The soft glow of multiple screens illuminates the room as rain patters against the windows, creating a cozy atmosphere.

Caleb sits at his desk, brow furrowed in concentration as he reviews security protocols. His uniform jacket hangs on the back of his chair, sleeves of his standard-issue shirt rolled up to reveal his forearms. Despite the late hour, his posture remains perfect—the Colonel, always on duty.

Glancing up, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflective surface of a dormant monitor. The unflattering blue light highlights every perceived imperfection.

“Ugh,” you mutter under your breath, running a self-conscious hand through your hair. “I look terrible today.”

Caleb’s head snaps up from his work. “What did you just say?” There’s a sudden alertness in his posture, as if responding to a threat.

“Just that I’m not looking my best,” you shrug, trying to downplay it, surprised by his intense reaction. 

Caleb stands, his chair rolling backward. His eyes narrow as he scans the room like he’s searching for enemies in a combat zone. “Who put that idea in your head?”

The protective edge in his voice takes you by surprise.

“No one, Caleb. It’s just how I feel sometimes.” You set down your phone, touched by his concern even as you try to ease it.

His expression darkens for a moment before he walks towards you. “Hey,” he says, crouching beside where you’re seated and taking your hands in his. “Look at me.”

When you meet his eyes, they’re filled with the same warmth they held when you were both kids, before the Fleet, before the incident—before everything changed.

“I’ve watched you grow more beautiful every single day since we were kids,” he says, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The calluses on his palms catch slightly against your skin. “Sometimes I still can’t believe I get to be with you.”

He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. Rain continues to drum against the windows, creating a private world just for the two of you.

“You’ve always been the prettiest person in any room to me. Always will be. Nothing compares to coming home to you.”

His smile returns. “And trust me, I’ve had plenty of people try to catch my eye over the years. None of them even came close. It’s just not possible when my mind can only think of you.”

He presses a soft kiss onto your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. “So no more of this ‘not pretty’ talk, okay? Or I’ll have to issue an official declaration about how gorgeous you are, and that would be really embarrassing for everyone involved.”

Based on this request.

"Wake up, Osamu..."

everything about this memory was perfection but i couldn’t stop thinking about this part 🥺🌟