Everything About This Memory Was Perfection But I Couldn’t Stop Thinking About This Part 🥺🌟

Ya right .... after reading it full and then seeing the song name ... right... author . . U ...🫠🫠

Life with you.

Husband!Jinwoo x Wife!Reader. Ft. Suho and shadow soldiers.

In the eyes of others, he is a cold detective/inspector.In the eyes of criminals, he is a nightmare that awaits every night.But to his family, to you, he is a beloved husband, a gentle father of your children, a person you love with all your heart.

« Part 2

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"흠, 음, 아가 (Hush, my little child)

어서 잠들거라 (And drift into your dream)

눈을 감으면 낙원에서 (A place where you can leisurely play)

뛰놀거라" (Our paradise)

Night has fallen over Seoul. It's time to go to bed, time to rest and fall into a deep sleep.

The moon is so bright tonight. It hangs overhead, round like a giant pearl in the sky. The spring breeze wafts everywhere, then reaches a small room in a house on the edge of the city.

The cream-colored curtains move slightly. The moonlight shines through the window, allowing us to see the room decorated with soft toys and children's books.

The room has turned off the lights, leaving only the soft yellow light from the night lamp and the moonlight.

Tonight is another quiet and peaceful spring night.

The outskirts of the city are always an ideal place for those who love silence. There is no loud traffic, no bustling people even at midnight like in the city center - only the soft lullaby, and the steady breathing of a small creature sleeping soundly in its mother's arms.

Sung Jinwoo stood silently at the doorway, his eyes looking into the room. He had just returned, he always came home late, his wife often nagged him about it. What could he do, the night was his territory, the most suitable time for all investigations and crimes. His job was to investigate and detain criminals, it sounded heavy and tiring.

But he did all this just to return to the warmth of his family's love.

His liitle, beloved family.

You were sitting by the crib, holding your little child in your arms. Your lips moved slightly, singing a lullaby in a deep, sweet voice like honey, so gentle that it made his heart skip a beat. You reached out to pat his back, your eyes strangely gentle.

He should have showered, changed, and crawled into bed like every other day. But that lullaby stopped him. Fixed him there, as if if he stepped into... this peaceful moment, it would shatter like glass.

Suho slept soundly in his mother's arms. Enveloped in the warm breath of mother's arms, mother's heart and the warmth of home.

Jinwoo's heart suddenly felt like it was melting.

He never thought that one day he would be able to start a small family of his own. The E-rank hunter back then never thought that his life would be like this, he didn't even dare to dream. Back then, he only cared about how to live, how to make money, he didn't think about falling in love, getting married, and having children.

Looking back at himself now, Jinwoo felt that he had accomplished so much. This was the greatest achievement he had ever had.

His wife and son.

You used to be a very strong and free-spirited person. You were always full of life and enthusiasm. Now that image has been replaced by a gentle image of you, the image of a mother and a wife.

You were once the brightest light on the battlefield.

He met you during the most chaotic days of his life.

A young girl with eyes that never looked down, walking through the ruins of a destroyed gate as if victory was inevitable. I once told him.

"This world is cruel, Jinwoo. But if we don't fight it, who will protect the weaker ones?"

You once stood alone in front of a high-level ogre, blood flowing from your forehead to your chin but my lips still curled into a smile. You once carried the wounded Jinwoo out of the battlefield, cursing profusely while your hands trembled with worry. You once rushed forward first, drawing your weapon from your backpack and shouting.

"Back off! Let me clear the way!"

Jinwoo never forgot that small but burning figure. Like a flame that resisted the storm.

You were never afraid. You were the first person to teach him how to hold a knife properly, the first person to swing a shield for Jinah when she was ambushed near the school gate. You were the one who climbed over the corpses of monsters alone to save a living child. And who once said, "We do not fight for fame, but for those who cannot fight."

There was a fire in you - strong, fierce, unyielding.

Yet, you were the one who put down your weapon first.

You were the one who spoke, in the middle of a normal morning, as the two of you sat drinking coffee on the balcony. "What if one day I don't want to fight anymore? I just want to be a wife and a mother, I want to spend time with my family."

Jinwoo was stunned for a few seconds, then he smiled, "It's okay. I think... that's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard."

You smiled. Those eyes were no longer as fierce as on the battlefield. But gentle. Soft. But still you.

Jinwoo entered the room, very quietly, as if afraid to break the warm image. He sat down next to you, looking at the little boy who was dozing off. Suho's jet-black hair was like his, but those plump lips and rosy cheeks - they were clearly yours.

You didn't say anything, just leaned against your husband, your hand still patting Suho's back, the lullaby still on your lips.

"부드러운 (The gentle wind)

바람이 춤추고 (Writing its symphony)

간절하게  (The morning comes)

숨결을 스며들 때 (Unshaken and so certain)"

Suho is still sleeping soundly in his mother's arms.

Little Suho doesn't need to worry about anything, because his mother is always here to take care of him, his father is still here as a strong shield, protecting him from nightmares. And the shadow soldiers, always silently following behind, making sure everything is okay.

Suho was born with all the joy and love, so don't worry about anything, just sleep well, sleep soundly.

Jinwoo gently touched his son's cheek with one finger. The baby moved slightly, his tiny hand waving as if welcoming his father's presence, then lay still in your arms.

Then he looked at you. The soft light fell on your face, highlighting your eyes and lips.

In Jinwoo's eyes, you were always beautiful.

Jinwoo suddenly wanted to cry.

He would give anything for moments like this.

He would give up everything, even his blood and life, just to be able to keep this moment forever.

Jinwoo reached out, gently grasping the hand that was placed on Suho's back. That hand was still as strong as before, pulling him back from the brink of life and death. Now, that hand was caressing a small creature, with all the gentleness in the world.

The moonlight fell on your hair, creating a soft glow around your face. You were no longer the warrior you once were – no more blood, no more wounds, no more strong eyes that always looked forward. Now, you were Suho's mother. Jinwoo's wife. Home.

He just sat next to you, quietly listening to Suho's steady breathing, your lullaby, the spring breeze gently blowing through the window, and... the sound of his own heart beating.

He had thought he was dead, since the day his father went missing, then his mother fell into a coma, since his heart was covered in darkness, since he stepped into those dark and bloody dungeons. He had thought his heart would only live for fighting, for revenge, for protection.

But after he had solved everything, his heart beat for something else – for love.

Jinwoo raised his head, looking at the window frame. The moon is still as full as a pearl in the sky. The spring wind still blows gently through the blades of grass, like an invisible hand caressing the whole world.

"자연스레 (Without a word)

품을 거야 (You will embrace)

노래하던 바다" (The endless sea that sings)

The lullaby ended, and you put Suho back in the crib.

Jinwoo hugged you and softly said, "Are you tired?"

You turned around and hugged his neck, burying your face in his strong chest, inhaling his familiar scent, coaxing, "I'm so tired, Suho is so naughty, it took me a long time to get him to sleep."

He chuckled, lowered his head and kissed your hair, whispering, "Thank you."

You looked at him, your eyes curious, "For what?"

Jinwoo squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving that gentle face. "For choosing me. For staying. For giving me a family."

Outside the window, the moonlight still hung like a gem in the sky. The spring breeze blew in gently, carrying the cool scent of flowers and the breath of the night. In the small room, three hearts were beating together in a warm rhythm - creating a peaceful family symphony.

"You are my home."

"And you are the last person I trust to turn my back on without defense."

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the song lyric: Wiege - Alien Stage

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To be continued

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Part 4 »

💌 Cookie Chaos

• Xavier tries his best at baking, and though things don’t go as planned, the day still ends with warmth and laughter.

💌 Sylus 💌 Zayne 💌 Rafayel

The kitchen smelled faintly of sugar and butter, but it was far from calm. Chaos surrounded you: a cracked egg dripping onto the counter, a streak of flour-dusted across the stove, and somehow, a measuring cup wedged precariously in the sink.

“I don’t think that’s supposed to happen…” you said, staring at the disaster that Xavier had managed to create in less than five minutes.

Xavier, standing amidst the wreckage, appeared entirely unbothered. His expression remained neutral as he wiped his hands on an already flour-streaked dish towel. “It’s fine. I’m following the recipe.”

“Xavier, you’re not following the recipe.” you replied, grabbing the half-cracked egg before it slid off the counter. “For starters, it didn’t tell you to whisk the flour. Or use a fork to do it.”

“The whisk broke.” Xavier said, holding up the mangled remains of what was once a perfectly good whisk.

You stared at him, blinking in disbelief. “How did you even—? You know what, never mind. I’m not sure if I want to live in a world where that question has an answer.”

To be fair, you’d known this was a bad idea from the start. Xavier had a reputation for being banned from the kitchen by nearly everyone he’d ever cooked for, including you. But when he’d suggested baking cookies together, his calm insistence had somehow won you over.

“We’re making memories.” he’d said in his usual flat tone, handing you a cookbook like that was a convincing argument.

Now, standing in the battlefield of batter, sugar, and broken utensils, you wondered if this was a memory you’d want to forget.

“Okay!” you said, rolling up your sleeves. “New plan. I’ll handle the actual baking. You…” You paused, looking him up and down. “You supervise.”

Xavier tilted his head slightly, considering your words. “Supervise?”

“Yes.” you said firmly, grabbing a clean bowl. “That means you stand over there, far away from anything fragile, flammable, or remotely edible.”

For a moment, you thought he might argue. Instead, he stepped back obediently, his expression as calm and unreadable as ever. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “Understood. I’ll monitor your performance.”

You shot him a look but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “Don’t monitor me too hard, or I might crack under the pressure.”

Xavier’s gaze flicked to the egg in your hand. “The egg already cracked.”

You groaned, laughter bubbling up despite yourself. That was the thing about Xavier—he could deliver a deadpan joke without so much as a twitch of emotion, making it impossible to tell if he was serious or just messing with you.

As you worked to salvage the cookie dough, Xavier watched quietly from his corner of the kitchen. Occasionally, he’d offer a completely unhelpful observation, like, “That bowl looks unstable.” or “The sugar distribution seems uneven.”

“You’re really excelling at supervising.” you said dryly, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“Thank you.” he replied, his tone so genuine that you couldn’t help but smile.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the cookie dough was ready. You scooped it onto the baking sheet, carefully spacing each mound to avoid sticking.

“See? Easy~” you said, placing the tray in the oven.

Xavier straightened slightly, peering at the tray through the glass. “You forgot something.”

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be calm. “What?”

He pointed at the counter. “The chocolate chips.”

Your heart sank as you looked at the bowl of untouched chocolate chips sitting smugly on the counter.

“Well, we’ll just call these sugar cookies.” you muttered, trying to sound nonchalant.

Xavier gave a small hum of agreement. “Adaptability is a strength.”

“Or we just messed up?” you said, leaning against the counter beside him.

“Both can be true.” he replied.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as the cookies baked, the scent of butter and sugar gradually filling the kitchen. Despite the earlier chaos, it was difficult to stay frustrated. There was something oddly endearing about Xavier’s quiet presence, his calm demeanor grounding even the most absurd situations.

Then you glanced over and realized he’d fallen asleep.

Somehow, he’d managed to drift off standing up, his head tilted slightly to the side, his arms still crossed over his chest. You blinked, torn between amazement and exasperation.

“Xavier…” you said softly, poking his shoulder.

He stirred, his eyes opening slowly. “Hm?”

“You fell asleep.”

He blinked once, his expression as neutral as ever. “Only briefly. I was…monitoring the cookies.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sure you were.”

When the timer went off, you pulled the tray out of the oven, setting it on the counter to cool. The cookies weren’t perfect some were a little lopsided, and they definitely could’ve used those chocolate chips, but they smelled wonderful.

Xavier picked one up, inspecting it with the same intensity he’d given the flour earlier. He took a bite, chewing thoughtfully.

“They’re good.” he said finally, his tone as even as ever.

You shot him a questioning look, raising an eyebrow. “That’s it? Just ‘good’?”

He glanced at you, his gaze softening slightly. “You did well.”

There was a faint warmth in his voice, subtle but unmistakable. For someone as reserved as Xavier, it might as well have been a standing ovation.

You smiled, picking up a cookie of your own. “Well, we did it together. Guess you’re not entirely banned from the kitchen anymore.”

Xavier tilted his head, clearly considering your words. “I wouldn’t count on that.”

Despite his deadpan delivery, there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes and together, you both sharing the cookies with occasional quiet laugh, you realized that maybe the chaos was worth it after all.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

The sound of tumbling and a series of thuds echoed through the hallway of the Hunter Association building as you lost your footing at the top of the stairs. Your body bumped and rolled down the entire flight before landing in an ungraceful heap at the bottom. Xavier, who had been walking a few paces ahead, turned at the commotion.

He blinked once, then twice, his eyes widening as you simply stood up, dusted yourself off, and continued walking as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“Are you okay?” Xavier finally asked, his voice carrying a note of concern. He stood perfectly still, analyzing you with careful eyes.

“Just a little slip. Nothing to worry about,” you responded casually, as if commenting on the weather rather than your spectacular tumble.

When you reached him and nodded casually, he continued to stare, his eyes tracking over your form as if conducting a silent assessment.

“The impact of your fall might cause potential contusions to your left side and possible minor fractures to your wrist based on how you landed,” he stated matter-of-factly, pointing back at the stairs. “Yet you’re displaying no signs of physical distress.”

“I’ve had worse tumbles than that during training,” you replied with a shrug, continuing to walk forward.

As you dismissed his concern with a wave of your hand, a subtle crease formed between his eyebrows.

He reached out, gently taking your arm to stop your forward momentum, and examined you more carefully. His touch lingered for a while.

“Your physical endurance is... unusual,” he observed quietly. “I’ve witnessed similar falls result in hospitalization for others.”

“I’ve had worse during missions,” you said with a hint of pride, meeting his gaze.

Xavier’s eyes narrowed slightly, the only indication that your comment had given him pause. He studied you for a moment longer before releasing your arm.

“If you say so,” he said, falling into step beside you. Yet throughout the remainder of your walk, he stayed unusually close, his hand occasionally brushing against yours. At one point, he subtly adjusted his pace when you winced slightly turning a corner—a reaction so minor most would’ve missed it, but not Xavier.

“The human body often reveals what the mind attempts to conceal,” he remarked softly, hours later, offering you a small container of what appeared to be homemade salve. “For the bruising you claim doesn’t exist. Mission injuries included.”

His last words carried the faintest hint of what might have been amusement, gone so quickly you almost missed it.

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

The cascade of thuds drew Zayne’s attention immediately. He turned just in time to witness the last half of your tumble down the hospital’s stairwell, your body bouncing off the final steps before sprawling across the polished floor. His posture stiffened as you simply stood up, straightened your clothes, and began walking away as if you hadn’t just fallen down an entire flight of stairs.

“Stop right there,” his voice cut through the shocked silence of onlooking hospital staff, his tone commanding.

You turned around with an exaggeratedly innocent expression, eyes wide, pointing to yourself as if to say “Who, me?” despite being the only person who just performed an impromptu demonstration of gravity’s effects.

Zayne’s eyebrows knit together, clearly not amused by your feigned innocence. His footsteps quickened as he approached you in a few strides.

“As your doctor, I’m not giving you an option here,” he said firmly, moving directly into your path and effectively blocking your escape. “Come here. Now.”

“Is this your professional opinion or personal concern talking?” you asked, a hint of challenge in your voice as you met his stern gaze.

Something flickered briefly across his features—perhaps surprise—before his professional demeanor reasserted itself.

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” he said, his expression hardening as he gestured to his office that happened to be nearby. “You just fell down an entire flight of stairs. Adrenaline can mask symptoms of a concussion or internal bleeding. This isn’t negotiable.”

He guided you firmly but gently into the room, his trained hands already examining the back of your head for contusions.

“Follow my finger,” he instructed, moving it side to side before your eyes. His expression remained serious, but you caught the slight softening around his eyes—a look of concern he didn’t bother hiding from you. “Even if you feel fine now, delayed symptoms are common with trauma injuries. The human spine isn’t designed to bounce down twenty steps.”

“Is this really necessary?” you sighed, even as you complied with his instructions.

“Yes,” he replied curtly, not breaking his concentration as he continued his examination. “It is absolutely necessary. And if you were anyone else, you’d already be on your way to radiology.”

After completing his thorough examination, his expression softened slightly. He reached into his pocket and offered you a piece of candy.

“What’s this for?” you asked, surprised.

“Sugar. Helps with shock,” he explained, pecking your forehead. “Next time, please hold the railing.”

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

Rafayel was midway through a call with Thomas, describing his latest artistic inspiration with gestures when the thunderous cascade of your body tumbling down the stairs interrupted him. His expression froze in horror as he watched you bouncing and rolling down the entire flight, wincing visibly with each impact.

“Oh—” His eyes widened comically as you hit the bottom with a final thud. But before he could rush to your aid, you simply stood up, brushed yourself off, and continued walking as if nothing had happened.

Rafayel stared at you, mouth slightly agape. He blinked rapidly, looking from you to the stairs and back again.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He ended the call abruptly, not even bothering with a goodbye, and hurried after you, his long legs quickly closing the distance. “Did you really just—? And you’re just—you’re just walking?!”

“Your face right now is priceless,” you said with a small laugh, watching his expressions shift rapidly between shock, concern, and disbelief. “Take a breath, Rafayel. You look like you might pass out.”

His face scrunched up in a dramatic wince as he examined you from all angles, hands fluttering near your shoulders as if afraid you might suddenly collapse.

“Are you okay? That looked painful…” His voice rose several octaves. “Do you have any idea how terrifying that looked?”

“I’ve had plenty of practice at falling gracefully. Well, semi-gracefully,” you replied with a casual shrug.

Rafayel’s jaw dropped a fraction further. “Practice? You practice falling down stairs?” He made a wild gesture toward the staircase. “That wasn’t graceful in any way, semi or otherwise! That was terrifying!”

When you tried to brush past him, Rafayel gently grabbed your shoulders, looking straight into your eyes, his expression still a mixture of disbelief and concern.

“Seriously? You’re just going to walk that off like it’s nothing? Like you didn’t just do a full somersault down those stairs?” He squeezed your shoulders gently. “Even cats have the decency to look embarrassed when they fall.”

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “You scared me, you know? I thought I was about to witness a tragedy in five acts, complete with a dramatic finale at the bottom.”

“Would it make you feel better if I limped a little?” you asked with a mischievous smile. “I could throw in some groaning for dramatic effect. Maybe clutch my side like this?” You demonstrated with exaggerated theatrics.

Rafayel’s worried expression cracked slightly, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Don’t you dare mock me when I’m genuinely concerned about you,” he said, though the tension in his shoulders eased a fraction. “Though your theatrical skills need work. That limp was completely unconvincing.”

He continued to hover around you for the rest of the day, periodically reaching out to touch your arm or shoulder as if confirming you were still intact. Later, he appeared with an ice pack and painkillers.

“Just in case,” he said. “Also, I may have told everyone to clear a path when they see you coming. You know, for public safety.”

“Public safety or my safety?” you asked wryly.

“Both,” he grinned. “Clearly, stairs have declared war on you, and I refuse to let it win another round.”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

The sound of your tumble echoed through the corridor of Onychinus’s base. As you picked yourself up and continued walking as if nothing happened, Sylus, who had been observing from a few paces behind, arched a single eyebrow—a rare display of surprise crossing his features.

“Well,” he remarked at the unexpected scene he just witnessed. “Such a dramatic descent. I wasn’t aware you had an interest in impromptu acrobatics.”

“Just didn’t want to make a scene,” you replied, straightening your clothes casually. “Is my dignity still intact?”

The corner of his mouth quirked upward in a subtle smirk. “Your dignity? Perhaps partially. Your reputation for grace, however, may require some rehabilitation.”

He fell into step beside you, his usual smug smile returning as he studied your face with those piercing eyes, missing nothing.

“Most people would at least acknowledge their intimate encounter with a flight of stairs,” he commented, his tone casual yet observant. “Your nonchalance is either admirable or concerning. I haven’t decided which.”

“Would showing weakness earn me special treatment?” you asked, meeting his gaze with a challenging look of your own.

Something intrigued flickered in his eyes. “From me? Sure. Though I find your stubborn resilience equally fascinating.”

He reached out, straightening a piece of your disheveled clothing with his fingers, the touch lingering just long enough to assess for a reaction of pain.

“While I admire your endurance, even remarkable individuals such as yourself are subject to the laws of physics and biology,” he observed, his words carrying a subtle undercurrent of genuine concern beneath the calm exterior.

He gestured for you to continue walking with him, matching his pace to yours, watchful of any irregularity in your posture.

“I do hope you’re not concealing injuries for the sake of appearances,” he added after a moment. “While I appreciate your fortitude, I prefer my favorite person intact and functioning optimally.”

“If I admitted it hurt, would that satisfy your curiosity, Sylus?” you asked, your voice deliberately light.

His smile widened. “Curiosity? No. That requires a far greater mystery than your apparent immunity to staircases.” He paused, studying you with increased interest. “But my concern might be somewhat alleviated.”

“Next time,” he murmured, “perhaps consider taking the elevator if you don’t feel like walking.” His hand found the small of your back as you walked, the gesture appearing casual but actually allowing him to subtly assess if you were truly as unaffected as you claimed.

Later that evening, a package arrived, containing an ornate bottle of sophisticated bath salts. “For muscles that may protest their earlier mistreatment, despite your claims to the contrary. Consider it a reward for providing me with such an entertaining diversion to my otherwise mundane day.”

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

The moment you hit the bottom step and stood up as if nothing happened, Caleb’s expression transformed into one of shock and concern. He was at your side in an instant, hands hovering near your shoulders as if afraid to touch you.

“What the—? That wasn’t just a stumble, that was a full disaster in motion,” he exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you serious right now? You just… fell down the entire flight of stairs.”

“It looked worse than it felt,” you assured him with a small smile. “I’m fine, really.”

Caleb’s eyes widened further, clearly not buying your casual dismissal. “Looked worse than—? It looked like you were auditioning for a role as a human slinky!”

When you tried to brush it off and keep walking, he stepped in front of you, his hands finally settling on your shoulders to stop your movement.

“No, no way,” he said firmly, his authority briefly showing through his normally relaxed persona. “You know normal people actually feel pain when gravity wins, right? You don’t just walk away from something like that.”

“Fine, check me for injuries if it’ll make you feel better,” you conceded with a sigh.

He guided you to a nearby chair, kneeling in front of you to check for any visible injuries. “What happened? Did you slip or something?” he asked, his voice softening with a hint of teasing returning.

His hands gently examined your arms and shoulders, careful not to hurt you further. “Look, I need to know you’re actually okay, not just pretending to be tough. Those stairs didn’t hold back, and neither should you if something hurts.”

“Fine, it hurts,” you admitted with a slight grimace. “Happy now? But I’m still walking away from it.”

“I knew it,” he sighed. “And no, I’m not happy you’re hurt. I’m happy you’re finally being honest about it.”

He finished his inspection, seemingly satisfied that you were fine, and sat beside you, one arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders. “That was quite a fall, Pipsqueak. You scared the hell out of me,” he chuckled, but the worry hadn’t completely left his eyes. “Promise me you’ll be more careful next time, okay?”

“I promise to at least try to stay upright,” you said with a small smile.

“I suppose that’s the best I’m going to get from you,” he said, shaking his head with fond exasperation.

As you finally convinced him you were okay enough to continue your day, he helped you up, but didn’t let go of your hand, though you noticed he maintained a vigilant watch over you for the rest of the day, positioning himself on the stair side whenever you walked near any steps.

“Just in case gravity decides it wants another round with you,” he explained. “Next time, I might have to catch you. That would be more fun for both of us, don’t you think?”

“Next time I’ll just aim for you instead of the floor,” you replied with a grin.

“Deal,” he said instantly. “I’m much softer to land on than those stairs, guaranteed.”

Based on this request.

He can't imagine arguing with us, stawp- (it reminded me of this fic actually). The fact that his "biggest concern" is that we send him to sleep on the couch seems so sweet to me... ( ;´ ᵕ `;)

It doesn't cross his mind that an argument could break up his relationship with the MC. I mean like, he's so secure that you'll always be together that the thought of a fight doesn't cause him to have the thought of "we'd break up if that happens."

I DON'T KNOW IF YOU GET WHAT I MEAN- I hope you do-.

II ▷ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 — " orion's home "

part 2 of the 𝐥&𝐝𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 [other parts: zayne, rafayel, sylus]

— exploring Xavier as a father, both of your children’s relationships with you and their Dad, as well as delving into their passions and personalities

note: each LI has different MCs, meaning each child/ren of the other LIs have different mothers and aren't related

ᴛᴀɢꜱ: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, crack; xavier has some insecurities and secrets, recessive genes (take this as it is trust me), maybe a little canon-divergent bc of some hc inserts of xavier's myth lore, canon-timeline inaccuracies (?) bc of pop culture references, dirty jokes/references

❥ a/n: finally posted 😭 this has been in the drafts for too long.. if u want a tag in the next part, which is rafayel's, just let me know!! im planning on a permanent taglist post soon but i wanna finish this mini series first 🫶🏼 i apologize for the grammatical errors and if the character is a bit ooc as this is my interpretation of them. pls be nice c: and i absolutely appreciate every reblog and comments 🥺💗

0:03 ───|────────────────────────

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 has two sons, and definitely a present father to them. He never truly gave much thought about having kids with you in the first place, more content on having you all for himself. He wouldn't have a child unless you wanted one, seeing how you would look longingly at children and their families laughing together, and a part of him started to consider it as well. He's glad he did, because now he has his own personal constellation he calls home, you at the center, starlights that motivate him everyday. Given his own upbringing, he will never force his sons to do something they truly don't like and let them follow their heart’s desire. He had some insecurities at first, seeing he's never had a good relationship with his own father, fearing he might turn out the same as him. With enough reassurance from both you and his sons, he grew more confident that yes, he is a deserving dad and a great father despite the inevitable ups and downs.

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 

The eldest son, looks a lot like Xavier mostly because he's got the same puppy eye shape and face structure, but oddly he doesn't get any of you or Xavier's eye colors

Xavier is taken aback the moment his son first opened his eyes, cradling him in his arms, his breath caught for a moment

It's something Xavier thought he'd hoped to never see again, ironically; a distant memory he's buried away, memory from home

But when Lance's eyes—a shade of forest green, gleaming into jade under the sunlight, like an eternal spring—look up at him with innocent wonder, the resemblance of his father’s eyes stops there.

Xavier can't help shedding a tear or two.

You didn't question it further, knowing enough about his past at this moment. The look of aching familiarity in Xavier's gaze was all it took to have some understanding

Xavier grew up being told he resembled his mother a lot more—his overall soft features and crystal blue eyes—something he was more grateful for, but genes sure are.. funny.

Lance loooooves Xavier's presence so much as a baby (even until his teen to adult but he’s never saying that out loud)

You would struggle putting him to sleep some nights alone when Xavier is somewhere on a solo mission

His cries seemed endless as you tried everything, from feeding him, to changing his diapers, to swaying him with a lullaby, yet nothing seems to work

Xavier comes home, utterly exhausted from his mission. He goes straight to Lance in your arms, sensing your own stress and exhaustion, wanting to help

You insist he needs to rest too, but the moment he's taken his son in his arms, the cries almost instantly settles down

“Sshhh, Dad's home now, baby. Let's sleep now, okay?” Xavier whispers as he gently sways him, the movement you were trying to emulate. He places a feather-light kiss on Lance's forehead, and like magic, he's asleep.

You stare at Xavier in awe.

Since then, it's been kind of a thing that Lance immediately just falls asleep faster in his dad's hold

Even when he grows into a toddler, he treats his dad like a beanbag (Xavier doesn't mind, not at all. It’s very welcome, encouraged even)

He would curl himself silently on his lap and immediately be knocked out. It was their shared routine. 

You have a dedicated album for those moments that’s honestly an accurate montage of Lance’s growth. Every week there's a new wallpaper of them on your phone

Your personal favorite was when Lance is holding onto him like a koala bear and Xavier's splayed over the playmat like a starfish, sleeping without a care in the world

But then Lance hits puberty

So it gets awkward from then on, since he was growing taller by the day, gaining inches above Xavier's own height

“My baby is so big now..” Xavier pouts playfully, ruffling his hair.

Lance sighs. “Dad, can you not say that.. please..” But he makes no move to stop him anyways.

Xavier gets slightly upset over it. In his perspective, he can never be too old or too big to be his nap time buddy

You and Xavier call him your baby even well into his teens much to his dismay

The more he grows taller, the more he's a victim of being mistaken for Xavier's older brother

It's funny at first but Lance is like “🤨 Isn’t he supposed to be 40 something?”

When both you and Xavier are away, toddler Lance was left to the trusty babysitter Uncle Jeremiah

It seemed like a hassle at first but Lance was so quiet, too quiet even sometimes just playing by himself.

Jeremiah would get him to open up by telling random stories from other planets and such

Lance's favorite was him talking about Lumiere's exploits, because it was so highly detailed unlike other stories.

Learned to make flower crowns from scraps. You get one every time you come to pick him up.

“Look, Mommy is princess!” Lance would say proudly as you hold him, wearing the daisy flower crown you received from him. 

Xavier smiles, leaning to place a kiss on both you and your son's cheeks. “No, Mommy is our queen, and you're our prince.” 

Best believe teen Lance is the no. 1 Hater when he catches you and Xavier being loveydovey. he just finds it so cringe.

He's giving you both a nasty side-eye as you laugh at his disgust

He's quite athletic, but he used to hop from sport to sport because he can't really a feel to what he likes the most

A natural genius, the one that sleeps at the back of the class but somehow still gets one of the highest grades in their batch 

He's unaware that he's the campus crush because of his weird intimidating but cool aura but in reality they have noooo idea he's a loser geek.

It’s really just his bitch resting face (courtesy of his mother), which image shatters when he smiles, bunny teeth and a small dimple on his cheek. 

Very reserved. Doesn’t keep secrets but won’t share about himself until you ask. Like he would casually tell you he survived jumping off a cliff and give no context until you ask.

More of a listener than a yapper, so he’s seemingly dry to talk to but will remember every single thing you say

He’s learned to read people really well–an empath if you will–an ability he inevitably developed when his dad had a vault full of secrets and masked emotions.

He was bluntly honest as a kid, growing more tact as he matures later on

Although he can take hints about what others feel/think, it doesn’t mean he’s a pushover if they’re crossing a boundary, He’s not a people pleaser in terms of he’s not trying to fit into whatever norm is going on, just doing his best to live true to himself

Other than napping, his favorite past time as a kid was sword fighting with the endless collection of lightsabers he's got, battling against you and/or Xavier

It kind of becomes actual training sometimes, and you BET Xavier's old ass be saying:

“When I was your age, I already know how to parry.”

You give Xavier a look. “Honey, he's 6.”

Star Wars becomes his personality for the inevitable part of his childhood

And you bet you were the one spoiling him with all that merch. Lance's favorite was the Millennium Falcon lego set. He cried opening that Christmas gift

Inherited his massive geekiness from you 

His core memory was sitting on Xavier's shoulders, his hands clutching his father's hair, you looping arms with Xavier side by side, as a Lego Star Wars parade marched on, fireworks in the background

Starstruck for an entire month after that

Loves it when you also tell stories about Lumiere at bedtime (unbeknownst to Xavier,) eyes twinkling and all.

Then he would also add his own stories he heard from Jeremiah, and you both just yap until you fall asleep

So respectful when he asks to borrow your Lumiere figurines.. and you LET him, which says a lot because those babies are expensive

Needless to say, Lance is also a talented swordsman, quite inspired to follow both of your footsteps as hunters

Your favorite memory of him was when you brought toddler Lance with you one time to the Hunter's Association, just to surprise Xavier for his birthday (yes, the man is still working, but you had a cake prepared for him and all)

The boy was a bundle of awe and wonder, loving how cool the hunters looked despite being shy to talk to them

He was literally being cooed and coaxed by your coworkers with candies and it was so cute to watch his round cheeks and ears become rosy from the attention

Xavier finally finished his mission, body growing heavy with exhaustion as he returned to HQ to fulfill his report. He settles down a bench, getting comfortable against the wall and about to lull into a nap when a loud voice echoes.

“Soooo, Lancey, who's your favorite hunter?”

Xavier shot up his seat, wide awake, the drowsy weight on his eyelids evaporated. He stumbled in his feet slightly from standing up too suddenly. Confusion knitted his brows. Why was his son here? Or was it another Lance?

He's now noticing the empty desks and his colleagues gathering around presumably his son. Slowly, he comes closer from behind, unnoticed by your officemates. 

“But I have more than one favorite..” Lance says, and Xavier's ears perched. He found himself tiptoeing over the crowd trying to spot Lance. A smile graces Xavier’s face after spotting Lance– eyes glued on the floor, hands fidgeting over the candies given to him. He was sitting on your lap, hugging him in place, and you were smiling from ear to ear, your gaze on your son. Lance was slowly getting more comfortable, the shyness seeping out of him.

“Oohhh, so if you have to rank them then, what would it be?” someone quips, and your coworkers hit the dude’s shoulder playfully for the ‘scandalous’ query. 

But it gets everyone curious, even both you and Xavier.

“Hmm.. it's Daddy and then Mommy and..” Lance mutters, and everyone is gasping dramatically, including you.

“Mommy’s lower than Daddy in your list?” You pouted in mock sulking, and it had Lance panicking a little.

“N-noo, Daddy's in third, and then Mommy is second, and then first is Lumiere!” 

Everyone's laughing and hollering now.. except Xavier.

You finally notice him, standing as still as a statue–clear, utter, guttural, mind-shattering distraught in Xavier's face, and it unfortunately made you laugh harder that your stomach began to hurt. You swear his soul left his body.

Lance was confused why it was so funny to everyone, nervously laughing, then he also spots Xavier. He beams, a vibrant signature bunny smile with his two front teeth, and Xavier almost forgets he didn’t just rip out his heart a few seconds ago.

“Dad!” Lance hops off your lap, rushing over to embrace him around his waist. Everyone was cooing at them, greeting Xavier a happy birthday but he didn't really register them. His ears were still ringing from the revelation.

Xavier bends to his knees, giving him a proper embrace back. Lance looks up at him, still smiling, until he notices the pout on Xavier’s face.

“Dad, don't be sad..” Lance pouts too, patting Xavier's had the same way his father would if he was upset. Xavier nuzzles against his tiny hands.

“But why is Dad in third place..” Xavier asks, and you're dying at the back because his puppy eyes were at work. Everyone else was snickering to themselves.

But Lance wasn’t Lance unless he says his truth.

Lance tilts his head, thinking to himself. “Because.. um.. I don't know if Dad can beat Lumiere..?”

(Cue a series of ‘oooohhs’, and you scold them, telling them to go back to their stations now, and they do after much persistence.)

“Lanlan—now Dad's actually sad now.” You try to intervene before your son continuously bluntly destroys his Dad's heart.

“But why? My dad is still the best Dad in the whole universe.”

Lance states it like an undisputed fact, and Xavier's heart swells so much it tightens his chest.

Because Lance wasn't Lance unless he's saying his truth. 

(Cue a series of ‘awwws’ from everyone in their desk cubicles.)

To him, that matters more than any hunter ranking. A deep part inside Xavier he's been holding for years is finally exhaled, filled in turn with relief. Lance never talks a lot, but when he does he really means it. In the void in Xavier's chest, was a star that burned brighter twinkling in the pattern of your laughter at that moment—he is another major star in Xavier's personal constellation, unabashedly warm and tiny, spring in his jade eyes and Lepus in his smile, contained perfectly in his embrace.

“Ah! I-I’m sorry—No cry!” Lance stammers as Xavier's eyes water, hands flailing on his face to wipe them, but Xavier thinks to himself that Lance has got nothing to apologize for.

Xavier just embraces him closer, face buried on his son's shoulder. He smelled of strawberry kids liquid soap and baby powder—home.

“Dad's very very happy, baby.” Xavier mutters, muffled by his clothes. “Thank you.”

“Happy birthday, my love,” You greet, inching closer with a lit birthday cake. The radiance of your smile in that moment couldn't be dimmed by anything.

Lance jumps excitedly in his grasp. “Oh yah! Happy birthday, Dad!” 

That declaration was the best birthday gift he could ever receive. 

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 — “Axel”, “Sandy”

youngest son, born 10 years after Lance

An unplanned baby (because of Freakvier) and the reason why Lance would give the both of you a nasty side-eye when you're both too lovey-dovey

“I thought Axel's favorite sleep buddy would be me, but now Lance has a mini-Lance the Koala Bear, part two.”

“Don't worry, honey. You're still my favorite pillow.” Xavier leans to kiss you, tender and soft, swallowing your giggles and the ‘you’re so cheesy’ you were about to say.

Lance walks in on that ill timing again, tangible disgust on his face, and with the meanest tone, he lets out—

“Ew.”

You're laughing, as Xavier pettily embraces you tighter, shameless that he's caught again. “You can knock you know, baby.” he says.

“Firstly, this is the living room. Second, one sibling is enough, please.” 

“Lance!” You throw a pillow at him, and he just catches it.

“I’m not joking, Mom!”

Incredibly touchy since birth, doesn't get lulled to sleep other than when he felt he was skin to skin contact every time

Axel is a mini you with freckles reaching until his back, matching your face structure and hair, big blue eyes like Xavier's, but a deeper shade, with hints of brown in the middle

The reason his nickname is Axel was because when he was in kindergarten to lower elementary, he kept misspelling his name as “Axelander”

You, Xavier, and Lance later understand it was because he is dyslexic

The nickname stuck because Lance was kind of a bully as a kid (aren't all older brothers really) and would never stop calling him that.

Axel never took it to heart though and finds it funny.

It takes a lot to actually upset him, because he's sometimes unnaturally optimistic about everything. Imagine Laios from Dungeon Meshi? Yeh. That.

Although Lance has absolutely 0 tolerance when other kids would bully him seriously with the nickname. That's only his privilege.

In actuality, Axel doesn't really realize he was being bullied at all and was just happy his peers were talking to him

Sandy was your nickname to him, because his favorite place in the playground park was the sandbox and he gets absolutely dusted quite literally.

Lance actually has multiple nicknames for him. These include but aren't limited to: “Axelander Sanderson the Great,” “Sandman Eater,” (he ate sand at one point) and his favorite, “Axelotle”

Does not care that you and Xavier call him their baby until his adulthood. 

The most creative comeback this boy can muster is.. “Uglancelot” and “Lame-cy” which doesn't even offend him it's just funny attempts

Despite that, he's actually very close to his brother even between you and Xavier, since he's taking care of him when you're both away on a mission

Unlike his brother and father, isn't easily sleepy; a light-sleeper.

His favorite pastime as a kid was recreating WWE moments on the mattress with any of you three.

And he looooves taking the Wanderer roleplay when they play swordfight with lightsabers

Because this baby’s special interest is Wanderers!

He would be listening to Lance and You rambling about Lumiere and he would ask more about what kind of Wanderer he defeated.

The little man's treasure was an encyclopedia of Wanderers he received from Xavier in his 10th birthday

He cried, yes. You took a picture and it's Lance's favorite one of all time.

Axel would bug you, Xavier, or Lance with questions or just asking help if he can't read a word properly the entire time

He has the whole contents ingrained in his memory since then. He can and will recite it given the chance just to annoy Lance.

Of course he ended up with more and more Wanderer related things, from books to figures to actual pictures

Learns to be secretive as hell because Lance tends to be super nosy when it came to his business and can read anybody like a book, a pamphlet even

Like father, like son I suppose

He still gets busted by dear bro though

Needless to say, this boy is loser geek doubled

Would be competitive as hell with video games against his dad and brother

The King of Rhythm Games, no one can beat him in that field.

Actually more of a social butterfly than Lance, but sometimes assumes everyone is his friend even when they're questionable people (why Lance gets worried sometimes), it was worse as a kid

Is not a people pleaser but pleased around people type beat

His comfort movie series is How To Train Your Dragon

Influenced his ultimate dream of befriending a Wanderer, preferably also a Dragon-type

Horrible with swords, but a great marksman from almost any long ranged weapon` 

Would playfully steal you away from Xavier when Lance is doing his 😒 face again at you both being.. sus

Has a trouble magnet streak, absolutely stressing the hell out of everyone, especially Xavier

But Axel’s puppy eyes are the puppiest to puppy eye no other puppy can actually eye, ever (this isn't making sense but that's the point), so he almost gets away with it every time

Like you think you already built a tolerance from both Xavier's and Lance's double kill puppy eyes when they're trying to get something they want

But Axel's puppy eyes are a whole other level. It was heartbreaking and knee buckling, and you know damn well that Lance and Xavier uses him as last straw 

And it still actually works to your dismay

The privilege as the youngest, Lance would grumble

Imagine having to live with three pleading puppy eyes everytime you say no. You must be a strong woman.

Xavier though? Well..

Xavier should be mad, really. He already knew this boy’s tactic very well. He can already hear both you and Lance berating him already in the future just after this.

Axel was left under Jeremiah’s care as per usual after school, as the boy absolutely loves the greenhouse and chattering with Jeremiah in general. You confirmed you would be home later than usual, Lance was preoccupied with training for the Hunter Licensure Examination, so that left Xavier with the task to pick him up from Philo. He planned to take Axel out to the arcade, something they haven’t gone to in a while and the 11 year old has been insisting on getting the new plushie for you when you get back. Xavier even went on a quick trip from the store just to get him his favorite yogurt drink, a small smile on his face.

Which slowly dissipated after the scene Xavier witnessed just outside the flower shop window

By one of the lounging tables, Axel was sitting rigidly, had his head drooping down that his hair masked his face, and his knuckles paling from squeezing his own knees. Across the table was Jeremiah, palms rubbing all over his face in what seemed like exasperation. 

When Xavier caught on his son slightly trembling, the confusion brewing in him quickly burned into something else.

“What am I supposed to tell your dad—” Jeremiah groans, but gets cut off by Xavier bolting inside, the welcoming jingles of his shop door rattling violently. The gardener paled before the all too familiar tempered glare Xavier was throwing him right now.

“Tell me what?” Xavier spat, hurrying over Axel’s side, placing a careful hand on his back, but the sudden contact made Axel jolt, his face shooting up to look at him–big eyes swollen red from tears and snot–and something was crumbling in Xavier’s ribcage, eliciting an eye twitch.

Slowly, he turned his head towards Jeremiah in an unnerving manner, a terrifying look in his eyes as he utters again, “Tell me what?”

Jeremiah swears he’s had more close brushes with death whenever it comes to dealing with Xavier instead of actual apocalyptic cosmic threats, and this was no different. After an elongated sigh, he began to explain the situation.

Apparently, Axel found a way to get into the Hunter’s Association Database through Jeremiah’s computer for more in depth information of Wanderers, and apparently it alerted an alarm system from HQ sending Jeremiah’s computer a warning that it would seize everything that was in that device–all including some access to.. their past, if they did not stop and identify themselves. Xavier didn’t need that part elaborated, knowing Jeremiah’s crucial role in their expedition, and in all honesty? Xavier didn’t really care much about matters pertaining to that after everything he has now, until..

“He used [Name]’s ID and account to log in.”

Axel stiffened, his arms wrapping around Xavier’s waist flinching into tension, face digging into his side. Xavier’s soothing caresses slowly drew to a stop when he registered what he just said. Dread crept in his nerves when he remembered earlier this morning how You were going frantic the entire time on where the hell You could have lost Your ID while running late.

“Axel..” Xavier sighed, petting his hair, “..baby, look at me right now.”

He didn’t, shaking his head as he started to hiccup again, keeping his face stuck on his side now damp with tears. Xavier pulled him away slowly, kneeling down to meet his son’s eyes, but now it was glued on the floor as he fidgeted in his seat in guilt.

“I’m not mad..” Xavier cupped his face, wiping his tears that slowly continued to tear in his heart. “Just tell me the truth and I will help, okay?”

“I-it’s–I–” hic, “I did–It’s true,” Axel sobbed, “I-I’m sorry–Sorry, Dad–”

“Sshh, it’s gonna be fine, alright? Let’s go home–”

“N-no!” he blurted, puffy, terrified eyes now meeting Xavier’s own. He clutched his father’s hands, shaking. “Don’t–don’t tell Mom, please?”

In all honesty, he was going to tell you the situation, as you both were past that stage in your relationship of keeping secrets–especially this kind. You already knew about his past, your shared ‘history’ with him, so this shouldn’t be that much bigger right?

But there it was, a pleading gaze of a deep blue–spheres of weeping Neptunes–eyes anyone can drown in. It drove Xavier’s instincts to just cradle him in his arms for as long as he can away from everything overwhelming–consequences be damned. 

He is a responsible father and a husband, but he is also just a man.

“Dad, please? I-I promise I’ll make up for it..” Axel continued to plead, sealing the deal for Xavier’s left resistance.

“Alright. But I’ll hold onto that promise right now..” Xavier gave him a stern look. “Don’t ever do something like this ever again, promise me, because I will tell your mother. You’ll have.. Different consequences for now, but.. I want you to remember this. Promise?”

“I promise.” Axel swore, calming down from his breakdown as Xavier pulled him into a proper embrace.

An exasperated sigh tore through their little moment, followed by a clearing throat. The two looked over to the source on the other side of the table.

“I think.. There’s also another one you need to say sorry to, baby.” Xavier nudged his son.

“I’m sorry, Uncle.. Please don’t hate me.”

And who is Jeremiah to do so when he looks at him like a kicked puppy who can do no wrong? He is also just a man.

(The two leave the shop after Xavier secured Jeremiah’s secrecy, going for the ice cream and arcade hang out like Xavier planned. He also made sure to clarify and sort the alarm with HQ with a quick call along the way. At the end of the day, they both go home in a happy note like nothing ever happened as Xavier returned Your ‘found’ ID.)

12:28 ──────────────────────────|──

ꜰᴜɴ ꜰᴀᴄᴛꜱ !!

Lepus is the Hare or Bunny constellation. It was a bird turned bunny by the goddess of spring, Ostara to escape the hunter. It rests under the foot of the Orion constellation.

Orion the Hunter is a huntsman in mythology and is often referenced due to the Orion's Belt. He is cursed to be a constellation, forever stuck in the sky, hunting something he can never reach alongside his two Canis Majoris and Minor hunting dogs, all because of his arrogance

Axel was born in the Winter Solstice (December 22)

You can take these facts however as you please ☺️😌.. ಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠ಡ

acc tags: @cordidy @dann-acalle thank you for your support and patience!!

"Hey, I can't sleep..."

Xavier mumbles something in reply, totally incoherent to you. He reaches for the lamp on the nightstand next to his side of the bed, and a warm glow fills the room. He yawns, and he sits up in bed, leaning against the headboard, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Okay, come here, then."

He pats his lap twice. You stare at him, and then at where he was patting.

"You want me to sit on you?"

He raises an eyebrow. "No. Come put your head here."

You oblige and lie down with your head in his lap. He reaches for something else on the nightstand - it's a book. He flips open to a page and clears his throat.

"Once upon a time–"

You can't help but laugh out loud, and you end up shaking the whole bed. Xavier clicks his tongue and shushes you.

"I'm trying to read you a bedtime story, if you don't mind."

"Okay, okay," you concede. "I'll be quiet. So quiet."

Xavier continues, putting on a storyteller voice. "There was a young girl whose mother had sadly died, and she lived with her father whom she loved dearly..."

He continues with the story of Cinderella, and you're enthralled by all the voices he puts on for the different characters. They sound ridiculous and ill-fitting, but you're entertained nonetheless. All the while, one of his hands is in your hair, gently brushing his fingers through it. The other holds the book, and in the moments where he takes the hand in your hair to flip a page, you instantly miss it - you would be happy for him to read a page over and over again if it meant keeping his hand right where it is. There are a couple of times where he yawns, and it's contagious - you yawn along with him.

"... and they all lived happily ever after. The end."

Xavier closes the book, but you turn over in his lap to look up at him. You push your bottom lip out in what you hope is a cute pout. "Can you read me another one, please?"

He rolls his eyes, but obliges, and opens the book again. He flips around for a little bit before clearing his throat again. "This is the story of Sleeping Beauty..."

You're not sure when it is that you doze off, but the next time you wake, sunlight is streaming through the gaps in the curtains. Your head is still in Xavier's lap, his hand still resting in your hair. The book he was holding is next to him on the bed, opened to a random page, and you can hear him snoring lightly. You turn, just a little bit, to take a look at him. His eyelids are twitching just so slightly, his mouth moving as if in conversation with someone in a dream. You feel a warmth spread across your chest, your heart beating just a little faster. Sleeping Beauty indeed.

──── 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝑪𝒐𝒔𝒚

After a night that took an eternity to pass, you woke up feeling worse the wear and wishing for sleep to take you under once more. Only, Xavier had other ideas; the love and care he provided was always second to none.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ── Cat Butler!Xavier x F!Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ── > 700 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ── G 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ── Tooth Rotting Fluff, Xavier's cooking, light angst, caretaking, established relationship, chronic illness + pain, sickfic, pet names, hurt/comfort, pancakes are a love language 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ── HERE 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ── HERE 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ── for @sgt-seabass 🤍

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

───  𝑳𝑨𝑫𝑺 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕  ───

The morning haze of sunlight and dew drops on the leaves by the window was the sight that greeted your tired eyes. 

Spring was well into blooming — through the open panes of glass, you could hear the chirp of birds and the calls of children playing outside, joyful sounds that would have normally made you smile sleepily and burrow into the covers, or into the strong, warm chest of your favourite person in the whole world. 

But it wasn’t a joyful morning. 

Every last nerve, bone, muscle, and piece of sinew that held your form together ached with the effort of existing. 

Breathing was a chore; the rise and fall of your chest slow and shallow from the pain of your expanding diaphragm. The bones of your arms and legs had doubled in density to resemble concrete pillars attached to the weakened support that was your body. 

“Ugh.”

Footsteps sounded over the carpet rug beneath the bed, and you scrunched up your nose with the anticipation of what was to come. 

“Ugh? What’s wrong, baby? Are you sick?” Xavier asked carefully. A hand rested against your shoulder, and you bit back the urge to wince away — though it was for nothing. “I saw that…”

“Ugh,” you repeated, emphasising the consonant with a groan. “It’s an ugh day.”

“An ugh day, huh?” The bed dipped at your hip, and you blinked the sleep from your eyes to glance at the source. Xavier was dressed in an oversized, pale yellow sweater, and the plaid pants he wore hugged his thighs. The fluffy ears that drooped low on his head glowed ivory in the sun rays from the window. “Are you in pain—do you need–?”

“Just pain,” you mumbled, blinking slowly. Your hand ruffled the covers as you moved it from beneath the warmth, and Xavier’s eyes narrowed. “C’mere, please,” you tried again, smiling softly. The tail over your legs twitched with suspicion. “I just want you.”

He sighed and leaned closer, the heat of his breath fanning over your cheek. “I trust you…”

“Hm.” The pads of your fingers brushed over his ears, ever so gently. “So soft.”

“That tickles,” Xavier muttered, pouting. “What are you trying to achieve?”

“Me?” you asked innocently. The palm of your hand rested against the curve of his ear. “I’m just recharging—I can’t get through the day without it.”

A heavy sigh passed his lips, and he seemed resigned to the fact you wouldn’t let up. “Fine.” You watched as he settled in place and laid his head down on your middle — while you still battled against the pain through the whole of your body, your heart felt a little lighter for the reassuring weight. 

Content, you smiled and continued stroking the blond fur of his ears, then the strands of golden hair on his head. The silence stretched as you played coy, gently teasing the soft spots along the base of the twitching pair of ears, until he sat up straight — the blues of his irises slightly clouded. 

“I– I made breakfast…” One of his hands moved to scratch at his neck, and he smiled nervously. “It’s your favourite, and I didn't burn it.”

“You didn’t burn it?” you asked brightly.

“Don’t act so surprised,” Xavier huffed, and he stood from the bed. At the doorway, he paused and turned around to look at you sternly. “Don’t you even think of moving while I’m gone.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Moments later, Xavier appeared, tray in hand, and a smug smile on his pretty lips. “See?”

You nodded in approval, only to stop and gasp at the sight of a small bouquet of flowers, the petals delicate in the wind. “Xav–”

“Shh.” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. The tray was heavy in your lap, and you glanced downwards to take in the sight: a mile high stack of pancakes — on the more golden side — were stacked precariously, while a warm cup of tea had swirls of steam filling your senses with your favourite, as he stated so proudly. 

But it wasn’t what captured your attention. 

On the very top of the tower of pancakes, a bunch of fruit and other toppings made up the shape of a heart. “I–”

“You don’t need to say anything, honey,” Xavier whispered. “Let’s stay in today, I’ll read to you. How about that?”

“Okay,” you agreed, smiling happily. 

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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)

“Break up with her.”

You froze. The voice came from behind the office door—firm, cold, and far too close to your worst fear.

You had come to pick Jinwoo up. You were tired after a dungeon run and just wanted to go home, curl into his arms, and let the day melt away. But as your hand reached for the doorknob, you heard the words that made your blood run cold.

“She’s not fit to stand beside you, Sung Jinwoo. She’s not enough.”

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest. You stood there, motionless, the voices inside the Korean Hunters Association office cutting through you like a blade. You knew they were talking about you. They never liked you to begin with. You were a strong A-rank hunter, the second most powerful female hunter in Korea—but you weren’t Cha Hae-In. And worse… they knew your secret.

You stepped away, footsteps silent as you retreated.

Later that night, Jinwoo lay behind you, his arm draped over your waist, his warmth pressing against your back. His lips ghosted over your shoulder in lazy, affectionate kisses.

“You’ve been quiet,” he murmured into your skin. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby?”

You sighed, holding his hand where it rested on your stomach.

“It’s not important. Focus on what matters right now.”

“You are what matters to me,” he whispered, burying himself further into the crook of your neck. “If something’s wrong, talk to me.”

You turned slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. “Have you met Hunter Cha Hae-In?”

He blinked, brushing your hair behind your ear with the gentlest touch.

“I’ve seen her. Once or twice. Why?”

“She’s beautiful. Strong. The directors talk about her a lot.” Your voice was quieter now. “I heard they’re looking for someone to pair her with.”

“I’ve heard the rumors too.”

His expression stiffened. You nodded, then turned your back to him again, pretending to fall asleep. He could feel your distress, but you weren’t ready to say it yet. You weren’t ready to let him go either.

You stared at the wall in silence, wishing time would stop—wishing this moment could stay a little longer before everything shattered.

“Hunter Sung, this is an important discussion. Please try to see reason—”

“I’m done listening.”

Jinwoo stood from the conference table, his voice laced with suppressed fury. His shadow flickered unnaturally beneath his feet.

“This is the third time this week you’ve told me to leave her. What makes you think my answer will change?”

“Because it’s not about love, Hunter Sung. It’s about responsibility. You have power no one else can even fathom. You need someone by your side who matches that. Someone who can create the next generation of protectors.”

Jinwoo’s aura exploded in the room. The lights flickered as shadows stretched unnaturally across the walls. Everyone went silent.

“Don’t speak to me about responsibilities when you’re the ones trying to manipulate my life like it’s a political chess game.”

He turned, grabbing the doorknob.

“I said no. And I mean it.”

That evening, he came home late. You were waiting for him at the door.

He didn’t speak at first. He just pulled you into his arms and kissed you—desperate, almost like he was trying to remind himself that you were still here, still his.

“I’m sorry I’m late… Did you eat anything yet?”

“No. I waited for you.”

His embrace felt like home—safe, familiar, everything you ever wanted. And that made it hurt even more… because while he held on like nothing was changing, you already knew everything was about to end.

The next day, you were called in.

A private meeting. One of the directors. You had a feeling you knew what it was about—but you still went.

You met at a discreet coffee shop, far from headquarters.

“Please, take a seat.”

You sat, heart hammering.

“What I’m about to say is in the best interest of everyone. Please understand this is bigger than you—or even Hunter Sung.”

You said nothing, your silence permission enough.

“Hunter Sung has a duty. He’s more than a person now—he’s a symbol. He needs someone equal to him. Someone who can support the next era of hunters. That person is not you.”

You stared blankly ahead, fists clenched beneath the table.

“You are infertile. You cannot bear a child. That already makes you incompatible. Hunter Cha is not only an S-rank—she’s a woman who can give him an heir. Someone who will inherit his strength. You… cannot.”

It felt like someone had taken a knife to your lungs.

“Break up with him. This week. That’s not a request. It’s an expectation. The safety of the world depends on it.”

And just like that, he stood and left you there—gutted.

‘We need to talk. I need you to come home right now.’ You texted him, heart pounding with the weight of what you were about to say.

You sat on the couch, arms wrapped around yourself, eyes locked on the packed suitcase by the door. You had already decided.

Jinwoo arrived, dropping his keys on the counter. He saw the bag. Then he saw your face.

“Baby… what’s wrong? You’re not okay, are you?”

He rushed to you, kneeling in front of the couch, cupping your face.

You didn’t kiss him back.

“I’ve heard everything, Jinwoo.”

His shoulders stiffened. His expression shifted from confusion to dread.

“No. Don’t say it.”

“Please…” you whispered. “Understand that this is for the best.”

“No.” He stood, pacing. “If you’re asking me to break up, I won’t. I love you, Y/N. I’ve fought everything to be with you. I won’t stop now.”

“I can’t give you what they want, Jinwoo.” Your voice cracked. “I can’t give you a future. I can’t give you a child.”

“We’ll adopt.” He was desperate now. “We’ll find a way. It doesn’t matter—”

“It does.” You stood, holding his hands. “They want a legacy. Someone who’ll inherit your strength. That can’t be me.”

“Then let them want! I only want you…” His voice broke, raw and ragged. “I don’t care about legacies. I care about you.”

“But I care about you enough to let you go.”

His grip on your hands tightened like he was trying to keep you from slipping away.

“Please,” he said, his voice shaking. “Don’t do this. Don’t choose them over me.”

“It’s not about choosing. It’s about doing what’s right.”

He turned away, trembling, swallowing back tears. “You were the only thing in this world that made me feel human again.”

“And you were the only thing that made me feel loved.” Your voice cracked as you stepped closer.

“The world needs you, Jinwoo. I’m not the one you’re meant to be with.” You kissed his forehead one last time, a trembling, silent goodbye.

“Goodbye, Jinwoo.”

You opened the door, not daring to look back—because if you did, you knew you wouldn’t have the strength to walk away.

“Was my love not enough?” His voice cracked behind you, barely audible. “Wasn’t it enough for you?”

You paused at the threshold.

“It was more than enough. That’s why it hurts.”

And then the door closed.

And he collapsed to his knees.

You didn’t look back as the door clicked shut behind you. Outside, the air was colder than it should’ve been. Maybe because you left everything warm behind. Maybe because you left your heart on the floor next to him.

Inside, Jinwoo remained still, his knees digging into the floor, your scent lingering like a ghost. His fists trembled as he stared at the door, hoping—praying—you’d come back. But the silence answered him louder than any goodbye ever could.

He let out a broken laugh through the tears.

“You said it was for the world,” he whispered to no one. “But you were my world.”