Anyway, Before Illusio Ends... Let Me... Just... Leave This... Here...

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.

The First Meet Self-Aware!Xavier

Sometimes maybe you're just the Juliet to his Romeo. Nothing more than a tragic love story, but what if you could rewrite the stars? pt. 1 here A/N: Before you fight me just read okay? Kisses 💋

Self-Aware!Xavier who's been blinding you with your screen brightness lately “Since when can you do that?” “I was testing the limits of my evol recently and figured it out cool right?” “Yes very cool but please stop blinding me it hurts”

It only took asking once for Xavier to stop adjusting your screen brightness. However he has been acting strange. It feels like he's hiding something; not necessarily something he can't tell you about more like something doesn't want to tell you about. Checking the app turned into a more frequent occurrence when he started disappearing constantly. You would often open the app to find the home screen cafe empty.

“Xavier!” the screen flashes and you see him appear with that same soft smile directed right at you “I’m here what do you need?” you stared at him unsure if you should accuse him of anything due to his strange actions lately. You didn't want to argue with him so you pushed your feelings down and sighed “Nothing just wondered where you went”

“I’m right here I'll always be here” He moved closer to the screen to get a better look at your eyes. “Is that all you were wondering?” You couldn't help, but sigh heavily as your curiosity got the best of you. “What have you been doing lately?” Stupid. Stupid. You mentally kicked yourself as the words rolled off your tongue before you could stop them. Why are you so jealous that he might be with in-game MC? It’s not like you can actually be with him. “Like I told you before I've been testing my evol” it still felt like he was hiding something under that soft gaze of his. You narrowed your eyes at hime “Xav if you want to spend more time with MC you don’t need to hide it from me” you could feel that terrible lump forming in your throat as reality set in that no matter how much you loved him; he’s not yours and never will be. Before he could answer you shook your head willing your tears to stay at bay “I have to go I'll be back later” you closed the app right as his mouth opened to say something.

You stopped opening the app after that. You thought that maybe if you stayed away long enough things would go back to normal and he wouldn’t be able to talk to you anymore. How do you grieve someone who doesn’t exist?

1 week later....

Since that conversation you’re not sure if you’ve become more sensitive to light or if you just happen to keep getting glares in your eyes because you’re just unlucky enough to be right where one can shine right in your eyes. You kept the lights in your house low or even just off to keep the light from blinding you. These constant blinding flashes of light were killing your head so you started wearing sunglasses everywhere and even using the walls to be your guide around your place because it was easier to just walk around in the dark.

Tonight was different though as you made your way to your bedroom your head was fuzzy along with your vision “I need to go to the eye doctor my vision may be getting worse” staggering to your bed you fell face first onto your bed and passed out. Your body felt weightless as if you were floating on a cloud. Your eyes fluttered open to see an expanse of stars and milky ways as far as the eye can see. “Y/N”

There was a voice, but it sounded as if it was underwater. “Y/N?” Words failed you as you tried to answer “I'm…. tired…..” you words were slurred and your eyelids were heavy. “Let’s go home together” the voice was much clearer now. “Xav….ier?” succumbing to the drowsiness that had you in a vice grip, your head fell back as everything went dark.

You jolted awake only to immediately be blinded by the sun shining in through the window. “At least it didn't give me a headache this time” You mumbled to yourself as you yawned into a big stretch. Your vision was clear again a stark contrast from what you fell asleep with. You started to take in your surroundings taking note that this wasn’t your room “Am I lucid dreaming?”

“The sun is too bright turn it off” a groggy voice whined next to you. Without thinking you kicked your leg out connecting directly with the strangers crotch who audibly groaned in pain. You sprinted out of the room only to realize you had no clue where you were. Rustling could be heard from the bedroom so there was no time to waste as long as you made it out of here as quick as possible. Freedom was within reach as you came up on the front door or at least you hoped it was the front door; only to be grabbed by your forearm and yanked back.

“I will scream bloody murder!” You yelled as you fought against this persons iron grip. “It’s me! Y/N it’s me open your eyes” not even realizing you were already screaming bloody murder with your eyes closed ; you opened them to see those deep blue eyes you’d dreamt about. “Xavier? Am I hallucinating?” You pulled your arm again and Xavier let go this time. You rapidly scanned the room and noticed this place looked exactly how it did in the game “There’s no way i’m standing in your apartment right now” You pinched the back of your hand and winced in pain.

Xavier rubbed the back of his neck as he nodded “Welcome to my home” you circled him skeptically eyeing him up and down. “Explain yourself”

“I was testing if I could manipulate the light in your world and it turned out that I could” That’s when it hit you that it was Xavier who’d been blinding you with light. You weren’t sure if you were pissed or flattered that he was trying to get your attention while you were ignoring him. No he literally made your life a living hell with that of course you were pissed. You took deep breaths as you tried to gather your thoughts. “So it was you that kept blinding me Xavier that gave me such insane headaches why would you do that?” You threw your arms up in exasperation as you began to pace. “I wanted your attention and you wouldn’t talk to me” He approached you with careful steps as you backed up at the same time. All those repressed feelings you had for the last week quickly surfaced just from looking at him. His face became blurry as your eyes filled with tears; just as you went to turn away you bumped into the kitchen counter. You stumbled to a stop as Xavier trapped you between himself and the counter. “Why did you leave me?” His lips pressed together in a thin line and you could tell he was trying to keep himself calm as well.

“Because we can’t be together Xav….” Your voice cut off as you choked up trying to keep your tears from falling. “Why not I'm right here” he had a point, but you don’t belong here; this isn’t your home and Xavier already has someone he was literally made to be with. “I can’t stay here Xav I can’t come between you and-” You yelped as he lifted you onto the counter and slotted himself between your soft thighs that were still bare from going to bed in a large t-shirt and spandex shorts. “I cut through time, space and reality to have you in front of me” His hands lingered on your thighs softly drawing circles with his thumbs. "Do you truly believe I want anyone other than you?" You went slack-jawed at his confession of how he managed to bring you here “You what?”

He dropped his head and exhaled a raspy chuckle, but there was no amusement in it “I was so lost when you stopped coming to see me I thought I was losing my mind” This man really did the impossible to get to you; there’s no way you could ever tell a single soul about this or you’ll be thrown head first into a mental asylum. The feeling of Xavier’s hand on your cheek pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. He gently wiped away a stray tear that you hadn’t even realized escaped. “You’re breathtaking in person” The blue in his irises was damn near non-existent as he studied your face almost as if he was trying to permanently burn the image into his mind. His stare was so intense it was like he couldn’t take his eyes off of you or you’d disappear.

You softly pushed his shoulder you try and get some distance because it felt like you couldn’t breathe with him this close. “Xavier please….” Your voice trailed off into nothing, but a breathy whisper. You didn’t know what you were asking him for; words seemed to be escaping you. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and held it next to your head as he leaned in closer. Your lips parted as your breath became heavy and his gaze immediately dropped to your lips. “Please what?”

Fuck it.

You wriggled your wrist free and grabbed him by the back of his neck slamming your lips onto his. Xavier wasted no time kissing you back, his arms wrapping about your waist pulling you tight against his toned body. Xavier kissed you like a man starved the way he parted your lips to allow his tongue in along with the quick nips and sucks to your bottom lip your mind was going fuzzy as you fell into him with reckless abandon. You drew back gasping for air and Xavier chased your lips pulling you back into a heated makeout session. Before you fell back under his spell you broke away and pressed your fingertips to his lips when he tried to chase you again. His breath was ragged and you could see his rapid pulse fluttering on his neck. Seeing him completely flushed with red cheeks and hot ears gave you butterflies “We should slow down we just met” You teased with a giggle. Xavier rolled his eyes and kissed your nose as he took a step back. You didn’t miss how he quickly adjusted his pants tucking himself into his waistband. “I’m sure you have many questions go ahead I'll answer all of them truthfully”

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.

Originally for my friend in the LaDs server I’m in.

After learning about Xavier's myth, finally, I'm feeling soft for him. Meanwhile I mostly started liking Xav more already because of my friend. So now I'm going to be soft about him on main.

When the light of the early morning sun filtered gently through the curtains of your apartment, you awoke to the feeling of an arm slung over your waist. Cradled gently in Xavier's arms, you carefully turn over to look at him. It wasn't as though seeing his sleeping face was uncommon, but it was as novel as the first time you'd been graced with the sight.

Despite his nature, Xavier always tried his best to be awake to spend time with you. Your hunting partner even had his notification volume at a decibel you were certain no one else ever would just to make sure he didn't miss your texts and calls when you were apart.

You couldn't help yourself and brushed your fingers over his forehead, brushing back the hair covering the skin there to plant a tender kiss on the uncovered area. A giggle had to be stifled when his nose scrunched a little and he pulled you deeper into his embrace, inadvertently forcing you to bury your face in his shoulder. There was a happy hum, barely there, when Xavier finished shifting you to be closer. The feeling was a bit ticklish as the vibrations of the noise rumbled in his throat.

You decided the dawn was too early to rise and begin the day, especially when your prince still yet slept. So you slowly sunk deeper into the peaceful quiet Xavier brought you and returned to the land of dreams to greet your lover. The noon sun would be next to bring you back to the waking world. Plenty of time to frolic in starlit fields with the man who would give you his everything just to make you happy.

The next you woke, the feeling of soft hands and softer kisses brought you into wakefulness. Xavier's fleeting touches gentling you into the waking world. "Good morning, my star. The night was long, but you were there in my dreams. So it wasn't too bad being asleep all this time," were the first words to light upon still sleep drowned ears. "Good morning, Xavier," you got out sleepily, smiling when he responded with another kiss; this time on the lips.

"We could stay here. There's still time," Xavier began. "Whatever you decide, whatever you want- I want that, too."

"We could. Buuut- I'm sure you're hungry by now," was your reply. Which was promptly met by a still bleary-eyed look of eagerness, your bunny-like boyfriend enjoying the idea of eating. "I've got you." And then you were being carefully scooped up into his arms and set down. He shuffled forward, holding you up while still rubbing the remaining drowsiness from sleep-soft features. The rest of the short noontime was spent in such a way. The two of you groggily moving together, Xavier taking care to hold up most of your weight and thoughtfully move thing and hand them to you when necessary. It was sweet. Your sleepy boy doing his best to help your equally sleepy self, holding onto you tight all the while.

He gave you a silent look of apology while you made breakfast, wishing he could do it for you. But while he was highly capable as a hunter, the kitchen was certainly not a battlefield he could brave. Which meant that whenever you caught glances of him whilst moving about the kitchen, you saw his eyes stuck to your form. Xavier's eyes never once strayed, watching you now that he was given the opportunity to stare. You were perfect in his eyes. So strong, so capable- Even able to do things he couldn't. You couldn't help matching his hopeless smile, teeth peeking out before your hand covered the upward curve of your lips. This was met with a pout and a certain hunter stalking towards you to move your hand. "Don't do that. I like your smile."

You were cheesing again. Silly man.

An entire day off spent together is a day well spent, no matter how you chose to fill those precious few hours.

A movie together, dinner, getting ready for bed...

Laying down with him, arms once again secure around your middle and face nuzzling into your nape with a tender "I love you", you wanted to do it all over again. All the simple and mundane days you got to spend with your shooting star that made all your wishes come true. You'd gather up all the stardust of the quiet moments together until next you could hold this fleeting star in your arms.

THE LOVE OF A WRITER

Xavier x Writer!Reader

A/N: This is the first time I ever write on Tumblr, and also the first time I wrote something in 2nd person about LADS. English is not my first language, so I'd appreciate any type of feedback to improve my writing c: thank you for reading!

Summary: Xavier is coming to your apartment to watch a movie. While waiting for you in the living room, he finds a notebook that ignites a flame at the idea that someone else had stolen your heart.

Tags: Pre-relationship, fluff, some angst (just a little), sfw, jealous Xavier, conflicted feelings.

Words: 2,6k

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You had invited Xavier to come over to watch a movie, taking advantage of his day off. It was a regular activity you'd adopted since you'd become close after so much time being neighbors and coworkers. While you were in charge of cooking —since you didn't fully trust Xavier's cooking skills—, he was in charge of buying drinks and some snacks for the movie.

While you were waiting for Xavier to arrive, you decided to take a quick shower. You made sure to send him a text letting him know he could come in freely to get comfortable until you were done.

Xavier always made sure to bring your favorite snack or dessert as compensation for you always cooking something delicious for him. He usually didn't pay too much attention to what he ate, too busy hunting Wanderers and sleeping, only eating instant noodles and simple dishes that Xavier managed to cook without making a mess, or just go to a hot pot restaurant if he didn't feel like settling for his poor cooking. Every time you invited him over to eat was like a gift to him.

He entered your apartment silently, one of his hands carrying a bag with snacks and drinks to share with you during the movie. The other was holding his phone, still with your chat on the screen. Knowing that you were busy taking a shower, he walked to your living room and settled on the couch to wait for you.

He wasn't a nosy person, he respected your privacy a lot even when sometimes he was dying to know what was going on in your mind. So, whatever kind of secret you had, he would respect it because he knew you would tell him when you felt comfortable enough.

When he saw the open notebook on the table next to the sofa, he couldn't help but feel curious. He didn't think it was something private considering it was open, it's content revealed to anyone to see.

He picked it up with curiosity and looked at it carefully. It was a scruffy, plain notebook, nothing flashy. Xavier remembered having seen that notebook in the past: In a cafeteria where you two had agreed to go, you were absentmindedly writing in that notebook, oblivious to Xavier's gaze, and when he reached your side, you smiled at him and closed the notebook immediately. Or when he saw you by chance in a plaza, you were eating some donuts while your eyes focused on the notebook and your hand moved non-stop. That time Xavier didn't make you stop writing, it was you who stopped writing, putting away the notebook and grabbing your things before looking up and encountering his gaze.

It was inevitable that he felt curious about the content. What was it that had you so focused on writing? He thought he might come across lists, date reminders, or things like that. Maybe even some drawing. But what he found were pages full of text, some scratches and corrections here and there. Your handwriting varied in shape and size, sometimes clear and neat, other times sloppy, abrupt, and confusing.

Despite how overwhelming the interior looked, Xavier tried to read the first line of a paragraph.

«He is kind, gentle, and chivalrous. He easily attracts attention even when he doesn't mean to. People couldn't help but gravitate toward him like moths to a flame. Akira was simply exceptional».

Nothing in that paragraph had caught his attention until he read what followed.

«Maybe that's why I liked him so much».

He stared at the text, reading that last line over and over again. It was as if he couldn't quite comprehend what he was reading, as if the words didn't quite make sense. When he was finally convinced that what he was reading was not a product of his imagination, he began to read a few more lines.

«I liked to take advantage of any situation to be by his side. He was dense enough not to notice my intentions.»

«One of my favorite places is the beach when it's about to rain. I realized that's the exact color of her eyes. Other times they were the color of the starry night sky.»

«...and his lips were the most tempting thing the universe could have created.»

Many things went through Xavier's head too quickly, thoughts that merged together and were too confusing to say out loud. Only one thing stood out from all his mental chaos.

Who is Akira?

His mind tried to recall all the workers he remembered from the Association. He tried to remember if he had ever read Akira's name anywhere or heard it in conversation. After failing at that, he tried to remember if any neighbors in the building had that name, maybe someone he hadn't met but you had. The more he searched, the less he found.

By the time you got out of the shower and walked back into the living room, dressed and arranged comfortably, Xavier had a thoughtful expression, the closed notebook on the table next to the sofa.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a smile and approached the small table to see the contents of the bag he had brought. “As expected of you, you brought my favorite.”

You called him to come to the dining room, since you had left the food ready for when he arrived.

He didn't move.

“Xavier?” You called.

It took him a moment to snap out of his thoughtful state.

“Oh. Coming.”

You ate and talked peacefully, you asked him questions from time to time and he answered gently and kindly. Still, it was inevitable to feel that his responses were more careful than usual.

Once you settled in to watch the movie, Xavier took on a serious expression that was out of place considering the movie was mostly a comedy. Still, you didn't question it, you knew Xavier was sometimes strange in his own way, so you didn't think anything of it.

After a few minutes of the film, Xavier was unable to hold it any longer. Although the way he started the conversation wasn't... subtle.

“Do you like someone?”

You turned to look at him instantly, unable to believe that he had actually asked something like that out of the blue.

“What?”

For some reason, that answer irritated him. He wanted to ask you so many things. Ask you about that "Akira" you mentioned so often in your notebook, ask you if you truly meant everything you said in those pages. Ask you if it were true, what you thought of him. Did you see him as just a friend? Coworker? Neighbor?

Suddenly he realized how easy it was to lose you over something as mundane as you falling in love with someone other than him. It was like a punch in the stomach when he realized he might have already lost you.

For a second, he had a flashback to a conversation in the past, who knows how many years ago.

You saying that maybe you had fallen in love with someone, him replying that it was a good thing. You asking if he wasn't curious to know who it was, and him having to take a moment to say that it didn't matter, that he was happy for you.

Too guilty for not being honest with you.

Too jealous to accept that someone else had your heart.

“Do you like someone?” He asked again, unable to continue thinking about how unpleasant the feeling of deja vu was.

“Where does that question come from?” You laughed and he felt more irritation and his stomach turn over.

Was that a yes?

“Lately I've noticed certain things,” he lied. He was good at lying, he had been doing it for a long time. He was especially good at lying to you, unfortunately. “You smile more, your eyes sparkle... and we watch more romantic movies than usual.”

He said the last thing while pointing at the television with his chin. The main couple was in the middle of a romantic scene, looking at each other affectionately and sharing smiles.

“Oh,” you said. “I hadn't realized that.”

Again, an answer he didn't like.

“So? Is that a yes?” He settled back on the couch, turning his body to look directly at you. “Who’s the lucky one?”

You laughed again, leaning over the living room table to reach for a snack. Xavier pressed his lips together.

You weren't taking him seriously.

“I have no idea how you came to that conclusion, but I assure you there is no one.” You smiled at him sincerely. “It’s all just a coincidence.”

Lie.

The fact that you didn't want to tell him directly was another blow to the gut. You didn't trust him? You didn't want him to know? Why?

There was a silence in which only the movie could be heard. Xavier was no longer listening and you only paid half attention to it. Then he spoke again.

“Who is Akira?”

When those words left his mouth, he immediately regretted saying them because he knew he had sounded desperate.

Until he saw the change in your expression. You didn't laugh. Your smile froze and there was something in your eyes that confirmed he had asked the right thing.

He saw alarm.

“Who?” You asked, but instead of genuine confusion, he heard caution.

You knew who he was talking about.

“Akira.” He responded softly, his eyes focused on you, looking for more information with any change in your expression.

“Where did you hear that name?”

Faced with that question, Xavier had the decency to look away and look embarrassed. What was he supposed to tell you? That he'd snooped through your notebook without your permission while you weren't looking? What would that say about him? That would only prove you right that he was not trustworthy.

He couldn't bear the thought of breaking your trust. Not again.

Your gaze quickly searched for the table next to the sofa that was behind Xavier. It was closed, but you couldn't help but press your lips together, tense that it was within his reach.

As Xavier looked away, you stood up from the couch and leaned towards him. He immediately turned his gaze to you, eyes wide open as he watched you come closer. However, when he saw you step back with the notebook in your hand, he looked away.

“Xavier...” You kept your gaze on your notebook, your hands gripping it tightly. After a moment, you looked up at him, tense. “Did you read my notebook?”

Xavier swallowed before looking at you.

“It... wasn’t my intention.” He told you with sincerity and heaviness.

Again you two fell silent. The film had been completely forgotten by both of you. You looked at Xavier like you didn't believe he was real and he looked at you like you were about to break his heart.

Then, against all odds, you laughed.

“My god,” you gasped, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. “How embarrassing.”

That wasn't the reaction he was expecting. He looked at you in confusion as you shook your head and looked back at him.

“It’s not what you think,” you said confidently. “I don’t like any Akira.”

It took Xavier a moment to respond.

“I read—”

“Yeah, I know.” You laughed again, this time rubbing your face with one hand. When you pulled away and Xavier could see your face again, he saw the slight blush on your cheeks. “But what you read isn't my secret diary or anything like that. It’s my writing notebook.”

Xavier remained silent, processing your answer. He went over your words again and again until he finally registered their weight.

“Writing notebook?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “A notebook where I write down spontaneous ideas I have to write stories or longer projects in the future.”

Xavier continued to look at you intently as you opened the notebook to the first pages.

“Here’s my character index,” you explained as you carefully showed him the pages. “Akira is one of them. One of the main ones, in fact.” You flipped more pages to the middle and showed him more messy text. “These are ideas that come to me out of nowhere. Sometimes they're full scenes, other times they're thoughts of a specific character.”

You looked up with a small smile.

“What you read were the thoughts of my main character about him at the climax of the story.”

With those words, Xavier breathed again. He let out a shaky sigh and looked away from your face. It was as if an invisible weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he couldn't help but bring his fist to his lips in an attempt to hide his embarrassed expression.

“I thought that—” He said but stopped, thinking that maybe what he said would only embarrass him more.

This time you laughed out loud as Xavier tried to hide his embarrassment by grabbing a snack from the table. He ate without looking at you, incredulous that his apparent rival was a product of your imagination.

“Why were you so curious to know if I liked Akira?” You asked between laughs, still not wanting to drop the subject.

“I just—” He took a moment to answer. “I was curious to know who was the person that you wrote so passionately about.”

“Mmh...”

Entertained to see this side of Xavier, you decided to tease him a little.

“Well, do you wanna know a secret?” You leaned closer to him, voice quiet. “Akira is inspired by a real person.”

That was enough to get his attention. He looked at you again, his eyes fixed on you, attentive, alert, with tension ready to creep into his bones.

“Who?”

“Nope!” You shook your head. “That's a secret!”

You crossed your arms and raised your chin with a definitive gesture, giving drama to your words. Faced with his silence, you couldn't help but glance at him and seeing his expression —as if ready to seek out the one who had inspired such passionate writing—, you smiled at him.

“He is the most trusted and important person in the world to me. I am grateful to the universe for sending me such a wonderful star by my side.”

And your smile —Gods, your smile— was all he needed to realize your words. It felt like a shared secret. Like a confession.

His frown relaxed and he opened his mouth to speak, although at first he was unable to do so.

“Am I...?”

“The movie!” You turned your full attention back to the television, too embarrassed to give him any more information than you had already.

Xavier didn't need anything else to understand, not when he saw the blush on your face and the way you were trying so desperately to distance yourself talking about the movie and interesting facts about it.

He let out a chuckle that made you blush even more and made you think that maybe you had shared much away. However, Xavier simply adjusted himself so that he was sitting closer to you and his pinky finger brushed against yours on the couch.

“I'd love to read more of... your main character's thoughts about ‘Akira’,” he said with a warm and sincere smile.

Xavier definitely wouldn't leave you alone until he had read absolutely everything you had written in your notebook, until you told him how or why you made certain decisions and, especially, why didn't you just use his name instead of Akira's.

“Why did you name him Akira?”

“I didn't want to name him like anyone I knew.”

“You could just use my name, you know. I would prefer that you... your main character thinks all that about me and not a stranger.”

“Stop—”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A/N: Thank you for reading! I might write more about writer!reader with the other LIs. I'd appreciate any type of ideas for future fics ;>

Cute aggression amplified

✌️🙂✌️

Its illegal to be this cute 💘

Forget-Me-Nots

Xavier x reader

summary: Both you and xavier take time being extremely domestic, caring for the plants he has.

word count: 1.3K

masterlist!

Usually during this time, it was easy to laze around with Xavier, both of you lulled by the warm sun rays, the sound of chirping outside of the window providing a cozy feeling. But alas, the plants out in the balcony needed some caring for. Wilted leaves scattered across the floor, and soil that needed to be hydrated. 

You sat there staring at the plants, taking in the breeze from the outside when all of a sudden you heard the sound of the screen door sliding open.

“Are you just gonna sit there and stare at them?” Xavier ruffled your hair, a soft smile gracing his lips as he took a seat next to you. Pouting you fixed your hair, “I was waiting for you.” Xavier chuckled, placing down the watering can on the floor and handing you some gloves. “We might need to re-pot the forget-me-nots” he said softly, leaning to the side to grab the brand new pot. You looked at him curiously, grabbing his arm to see it closer. It was round in size, the glossy deep green color shimmering slightly in the sun. “pretty” you mumbled, leaning your cheek on his arm. He hummed, setting it down and grabbing the older pot. Sitting up, you slipped on the gloves, grabbing it from him, while he opened a new bag of soil. You set the pot down on your lap, watching the small blue flowers sway in the sun, each of them standing proudly. 

“Do you think they’ll like their new home?” you asked, your finger brushing against one of the petals. “I’m sure they’ll love it.” Smiling you began to push against the soil, loosening it up in order to free it without ripping any roots. Finally pulling it out, Xavier held the new pot in front of you, softly putting it in. He set it down, sprinkling more soil on top before handing you the watering can. “I don’t think I'm ready for this much responsibility.” you said, humor glittering in your eyes as you looked at him. Shaking his head softly, he smiled “I trust you.” 

Taking the watering can from his hands you tilted it slightly in front of the flowers, watching as it showered them. The soft sound of the water sprinkling around. Xavier got up and knelt down in front of the other plants, shears in hand. Clipping away at the dead leaves. You set down the watering can, picking up the newly potted flowers and setting them down in their old place. Smiling as you gazed down at them. Arms wrapped around your waist from behind, Xavier leaning his head on your shoulder. 

“We still have to clean up the leaves.” you said, melting into his embrace. He nuzzled your cheek, “We can do that later.”

A gentle smile graced your lips before slowly pulling his arms away. Turning around you looked up at him, softly placing a palm on his cheek. “If we finish this now, we can get some snacks and watch a movie.” He sighed, leaning his forehead on yours, “Okay.” pressing a small kiss on your lips. He pulled away, “Let’s hurry then.” grabbing the broom that was leaning against the wall. You sweeped while he held the dustpan, each of the leaves being thrown away. Both of you working silently, taking pleasure in these serene moments where you were just in the comfort of each other. Finally picking up the last of the leaves, Xavier quickly went to toss them in compost. Coming back and reaching to grab your cheeks, stopping him, “Let’s wash our hands first.” you grinned, pushing them down. He pouted slightly before agreeing. Walking inside and closing the door, you made your way to the sink in the kitchen, Xavier trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

Standing next to you, he looked down before putting his hand out, waiting for you to pump some soap. You side-eyed him, “Does the poor baby need help washing his hands?” you teased. The tips of his ears turned red, looking at you from the corner of his eye, “it’s closer to you.” he mumbled. Eyes softening, you reached for the bottle, pumping the soap. The fresh smell of citrus wafted into your nose, putting some into your own hands. The only sound that could be heard was the running water, you bumped your hip against his lightly. He turned to you, running his hands under the water. Booping his nose with some of the soap in your hands you giggled, Quickly washing off the soap and turning off the faucet. 

   “Where do you think you’re going?” he teased as he saw you try to run away, grabbing your waist from behind and pulling you against him. Giggling, you tried pulling away, “Xavier, we need to go get our snacks.” you said trying to be serious. 

You felt him shake his head behind you, burrowing his face into your neck inadvertently cleaning his nose with your sweater. “We don’t need to do anything, we can just order delivery.” his breath tickling you. “Xavierrr…” you whined, turning around in his arms you gazed into his blue eyes,  huffing before smiling softly. “Okay, I'm lazy anyways.” 

He pressed you flush against him, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. “We really have to order something star.” you mumbled against his lips, pressing your hands against his chest. He tightened his arms, lowering his head down, brushing his lips against your ear, “we’re still watching a movie right?” he mumbled. You chuckled, “That’s if you don’t fall asleep like you always do.” pulling his arms off you, grabbing your phone and plopping yourself down on the couch. 

“Should we get the usual?” you asked, he settled down next to you, laying down on his side and resting his head on your thighs. You smiled down at him, running your fingers through his silver hair. He nodded, eyes fluttering closed. The warmth of the sun, shining through the windows. Basking the both of you, typing away at your phone, scrolling through the various options. While Xavier slowly let himself succumb to the comfort of your presence, lips parting slightly as he fell deeper into sleep. 

A gentle smile graced your lips, lightly brushing his fringe away from his face. Putting your phone down next to you. Eyes scanning his face, your fingertip brushing the shape of his eyebrows, following the slope of his nose and then finally reaching his pink lips. Running your thumb across his bottom lip. Mesmerized by him and not noticing he opened one eye to peek at you. The corner of his lips lifting slightly, amused. 

“See something you like?” 

Pretending to think about it, looking off into the distance. “Hmm, I don’t know.” a teasing smile playing at your lips. He glared playfully, sitting up and squishing your cheeks together. 

“Rethink your answer.” 

“I rethink that I might have to go see Charlie to compare.” smirking at him, he furrowed his brows, eyes darkening. He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a fervid kiss. His hand cupping the back of your neck, tilting his head slightly, “You’re not going anywhere.” he mumbled against your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, gripping his sweater, kissing him back with the same intensity. His tongue brushed your bottom lip, lightly prodding them open. You obliged, sighing softly against his lips. 

Xavier deepened the kiss, pushing you down onto the couch. He pulled away, kissing down your neck. Your breathing heavy, reaching up to place your hand on his hair. 

“Any changes?” he mumbled, lightly biting the space between your collarbone. 

“I love you Xavier.” you breathed out, meeting his eyes as they softened with affection. Pulling him up for another kiss, running your hands down his back. He cupped your cheek, pulling away to look down at you. His thumb brushing against your cheek. 

“I love you too.”

I Exist to Nobody (but you.) – Part 1

Summary: You meet your soulmate on a serendipitous afternoon in your grandparents' backyard.

And on all levels except physical, Xavier is a normal boy.

Word Count: 4.2k

Tags: fem!reader x xavier, you x xavier (no use of Y/N), imaginary friend AU, imaginaryfriend!xavier, childhood friends (to lovers, but not in this chapter!), themes of codependency?, lil sprinkle of family issues lol, growing up, time skips as a plot device, again– pretty self-indulgent 

A/N: I understand that AUs aren’t everyone’s cup of tea and that’s okay! Xavier’s always been a comfort character to me and I wanted to write something different for him, which led to this baby <3 

(art + banners are made by urs truly x)

Part I

You stand a little over three feet, and your hair is in braids. 

You’re wearing your Sunday special; a pretty purple dress with a frilly skirt and your favorite pair of stripe-print leggings. Your sparkly jelly ballerinas have been long since discarded somewhere in the grass as you run barefoot in your grandparents’ backyard. 

You’re playing hopscotch by yourself, with the family Shiba for company. The sky is starting to turn into a pretty orange hue and you hear your mom calling from inside the house when you see something white move from the corner of your eye. 

With all the curiosity befitting a four-year-old, your tiny feet carry you in the direction where you saw it; near the mossy undergrowth, beneath the canopy shade of the old Kousa dogwood tree that stood for more than four generations behind the residential building you’d spent some days hiding in when you didn’t want to go back inside for dinner. 

It’s as safe a spot to you as it is familiar, so it takes you by surprise when you find something unexpected; in the form of a small, pale boy with hair the color of rain clouds in the summer, sitting with his legs up to his chin, looking like one of those little elves in your fairytale books. 

A pair of blue eyes meet yours, alight in childlike wonder.

_____

Xavier doesn’t know how he came to be; just that he’s now present in this plane of existence, in the phantom body of a four-year-old boy, in a place he knows human beings call a back-yard. 

He knows this—just as he knows things on an objective level; like what a house is, what the creature covered in fur is called (a small wolf), or what a human girl looks like. 

What he doesn’t understand is the knee-jerk reaction to hide when his sudden appearance catches your attention, which brings him to his current attempt at concealing himself amidst a thicket; beneath the tree with star-like blooms. 

He doesn’t account for the beating of his heart when your searching gaze lands on him, nor the unfamiliar excitement of being seen feels like. 

“Hi!” You finally exclaim after a few seconds of consideration, squatting down in front of him. Xavier notices that you’re missing a front tooth when you give him a big smile. He also notices how his heartbeat quickens at the sight. “Are you an elf?!” 

“No,” he responds quietly. “I’m human. I think.” 

His voice sounds odd to his ears. 

“Oh,” you say with an undercurrent of disappointment. “Well, that’s okay! I’m human too!”

You say it with such enthusiasm that Xavier’s lips pull up in a hesitant smile.

Bouncing back up to your feet, you pat away the nonexistent dirt from your dress and extend a hand towards him. “D’you wanna play with me? Oh, oh—we can play hide-and-seek! You seek, I hide!” 

You're off to run somewhere before he could answer. He doesn't know what hide-and-seek entails, nor what it means to be amongst the living.

He doesn’t know that many things, but he thinks he’d like to know more about you.  

___

You head inside the house after your mom calls you for a fourth time, her voice straining in (rising) agitation. Towing behind you is your new (best!) friend, who you decide is joining you for dinner.

 

“This is Xavier!” You point at the boy sitting on the chair you dragged near yours, eyes wide as he takes in the spread on the table in front of him. “I saw him outside and we played hide-and-seek!”

  

Your mom exchanges a look with your grandmother. She glances at the chair beside you, then at you. 

She sees your wide grin. Resigned, she sighs and smiles indulgently. 

“Hello, Xavier.” 

The boy perks up at that. She could also–?

…No. 

It’s not obvious at first glance. But when he studies the expression of the woman who shares the same nose and chin as his new friend, he notices that her eyes look past him. Not at him. 

Xavier falters upon realizing the… facade. He is aware that his form isn’t as corporeal compared to yours. His skin has a certain translucent quality to it, more obvious under the stark, fluorescent lighting. The manner in which he moves isn’t unlike the minute particles floating in the air; more buoyant, less solid. Less tangible. Less aliv–

You squeal in excitement, and he’s distracted. He watches as you turn in your seat to face him– to look straight into his eyes and tell him—

“I’m your bestest friend now, okay?” 

You say it as a statement; like a promise. And for a second, he feels more present in the world.

So you are. His bestest friend. 

Xavier’s chest feels warm; he likes the sound of that. 

___

“Grandpa, Xavier says your beard looks funny!”

“Huh? Who’zat??” 

_____

You learn the concept of an imaginary friend after introducing Xavier to person number six, who happens to be your preschool teacher. 

You overhear her discussing boring adult stuff with your mom when the latter comes to pick you up after school. You and Xavier are in a corner, playing princess and knight. It’s just the two of you, away from the other kids, since your friends refused to join when you’d asked them if they wanted to play too. 

Or rather— they don’t think it’s fair that you just made someone up to be the knight, and have them play the villains. 

That confused you. You also notice how it made your best friend sad. So in the end, you decided that you don’t need anyone else! Xavier is already the best knight who is now also an evil dragon.

“Honey, don’t you want to play with your other classmates?” Your teacher, Miss Dahlia, asks you as she and your mom amble closer to where you and Xavier are; her tone gentle, yet careful. 

You shake your head, a ‘harrumph!’ leaving your mouth. “They didn’t wanna play villains with us. But ‘sokay, Xavier is an evil knight dragon now.” 

Miss Dahlia smiles the same smile your mother gave you at dinner last night. “Oh, of course, sweetie. But maybe you and… Xavier can find someone else to join you?” 

Your brows furrow, starting to feel irritated about the whole thing. “I told you, they don’t wanna! They said they dun’ wanna have someone made up play the knight!” 

Your mom sighs and the two share a look. 

After a moment of hesitation, your teacher begins to explain how your friends “may not be able to see” Xavier since he’s special and only appears to you. That “It’s good you’re being very independent, sweetie, as long as you don’t let Xavier prevent you from hanging out with your actual friends.”

Because, according to Miss Dahlia, he’s just an imaginary friend. 

You blink, not understanding. Xavier is silent beside you. “Huh?” 

You’re looking at the boy in question, trying to make sense of how the other kids—and apparently, everyone else—can’t see him when he’s sitting right there. You don’t understand, and it’s making you more annoyed. 

So the moment Miss Dahlia finishes talking, you tell her that you’re happy playing with just Xavier, and that you’re gonna continue to play princess and evil knight dragon now, please and thank you. 

___

Back home, you and your imaginary friend lie starfish on the floor of your bedroom. You stay quiet while you count the barely visible water spots on your ceiling, waiting for the other person to speak. 

He doesn’t. 

Feeling fidgety, you break the silence. “They don’t see you.”

“I-I don’t think so.” 

“But I see you.” You stress the word, turning on your left to look at Xavier when you say it. 

“Yes,” He agrees, twisting his head to the right so that he’s facing you too. You try to figure out how he’s feeling about the situation—with all the naivety of a child your age—but his expression doesn’t give much away. 

You’re about to ask him directly when, finally, his lips curve into a small smile. A knot loosens in your chest.

“Don’t worry,” Xavier assures you. “That’s enough for me.” 

_____

You lost another round of hide-and-seek.

“‘S not fair,” you grouse, stomping a foot in frustration. “You always find me so fast!”

“We could always play tag instead,” Xavier offers. 

“As if you don’t win at tag too!” 

_____

It’s another bright, sunny Tuesday and your mom leaves you with her usual instruction to behave well for Mrs Dela Peña, a kind—albeit a little strict—lady in her mid-seventies who lives a block away from your house, and your babysitter since you were in diapers. You’re eight now, and starting to make heads with your multiplication tables, but your mom still thinks you’re a big baby that needs looking after. 

You think you’re old enough to be left alone during your summer break when she has to go to work, but she refuses to leave you by your lonesome no matter how much you insist. 

“I have Xavier with me anyway!” 

Your mom just shakes her head whenever you use that as an argument, not bothering with a response. 

So with the usual pout on your face, you stand at the front door with your arms crossed as you grudgingly bid your mother goodbye. 

“–and don’t forget to eat all your greens later for lunch, okay?” She reminds you one last time before giving you a wet kiss on the forehead. You scrunch your nose as you wipe it off. “Love you, honey. I’ll be home by six.” 

And off she goes. You turn to face Xavier—whose hair is a little longer now, almost past his chin, but with eyes the same shade of marble blue—and complain, “She always treats me like a little kid!” 

“But you are a kid,” he tells you, sounding a little confused by your ire. “And it’s normal for parents to care for their children, no matter how old they are.” 

You grumble, narrowing your eyes at him. “I know, but you’re supposed to be on my side.” 

“I am on your side,” Xavier says, blinking innocently. “I tell you when Mrs Dela Peña isn’t looking so you could hide your broccoli before she sees.” 

He does make for a good lookout. You divert the subject. 

“Okay, whatever. But we’re still on Project: Veggie Throw, right?” You ask him, excitement replacing the crabbiness from a moment ago.

Xavier hums in assent, both him and you sharing the same aversion for all things leafy and (barely) edible, despite the other one’s inability to eat. 

Apparently, just explaining to him the yuckiness of a watercress salad is enough for him to take your side of things. 

Xavier sneaks into the kitchen—quiet as a mouse, as usual—to observe the old woman who’s starting to prepare for lunch. He notes the celery stalks being chopped on a wooden board and makes a sound of disgust.

The little phantom boy waits until the woman finishes the rest of the vegetables to put on a corner before calling out to you:

“The veggies are contained in one spot, agent. Over.” 

Your head pops out to peek from behind the wall that connects to the kitchen. Xavier, who’s now sitting cross-legged on the countertop close to the awning window, waves you towards the sink while Mrs Dela Peña’s busy taking something out of the fridge. 

Trying your best to move swiftly before she could catch you in the act, you zip straight to where the sliced vegetables are, bath towel ready to snatch them away when—

“There’s that tuxedo cat again from yesterday,” Xavier casually comments, peering through the open blinds. “I think he’s brought a friend this time.”

Like second nature, you respond without thinking, “You mean Mr Snuffles?”

“...”

“...”

“Oh, I didn't see you there, sweetie!” Mrs Dela Peña exclaims, eyes crinkling from the smile that graces her face as she sees your frozen form over by the aromatics. “Would you like to help with the cooking? Oh-ho! Be a dear now and soak those mung beans in water, will you?” 

“... Sorry,” Xavier sheepishly offers, then shrinks down from your betrayed look. 

You end up on stir duty. The large pot filled with beans and green produce seems to bubble ominously as you’re forced to listen to the same story about Mrs Dela Peña’s neighbor for the nth time. 

An apologetic Xavier dutifully recites to you the play-by-play on how Mr Snuffles and his racoon friend are rummaging through the trash bins as penance, and you swear to be more conscious of your audience next time you’re speaking to your invisible friend. 

_____

You’re in fourth grade, and exam week is coming up.

You look at the textbooks that are laid neatly on the living room table, untouched. Then at the TV. Maybe you could sneak in one episode before—

“No screen time before you finish studying, dearie!” An older Mrs Dela Peña calls out from the kitchen, apparently having a sixth sense for children and their sneaky ways. “Your mother wants you to complete the set of exercises she’s left for you there before you watch your an-e-mays.” 

Groaning in response, you let your head fall down onto the table with a thunk. “But it’s booooring!”

Xavier hums sympathetically, patting your head with a spectral hand. “I can read beside you. Do you want me to ask you the questions?” 

“I want to watch Killua beat those guys at dodgeball,” you sulk, voice coming out a little muffled against the oakwood surface. “Not memorize dates from, like, a hundred years ago.” 

“Killua isn’t here to help you with The Revolution, I am.” You’re caught off-guard by the shortness in Xavier’s tone, enough to raise your head to stare at your friend curiously. He keeps his gaze fixed on the questionnaire in front of him. 

Wait. That gives you an idea.

“I think I know how you could help me, Xavi,” You say slowly, excitement creeping in your voice. Why haven’t you thought of this before??

The pouting boy tilts his head in confusion. You start explaining what you have in store for him for the next couple of days, and before you even finish your spiel, the pout is gone and Xavier’s nodding along with your plan, seeming to be fully on board. 

The idea that his… nonphysicality could finally be of use to you has him feeling oddly giddy. You, on the other hand, look identical to a cat that ate the canary as you reach for the remote. 

Seems like you’ll be able to watch your second favorite pale-haired boy after all. 

___

You’ve been asked to stay after class, two days before the end of midterms. 

Your history teacher has been on it with your adviser for a while now, in a heated argument about your test results. Well, yours and another student in your class. 

“How is that even possible? He’s sitting three rows behind her!” 

“I don’t know how she did it, but they even got the same answer to the third essay down to the last sentence!” 

You and your partner-in-crime share a look of alarm. Uh-oh.

Any attempts at making you fess up led to nowhere. You keep denying all claims of cheating, and your adviser recalls nothing that could warrant suspicion on the day of your World History exam. 

Without enough conclusive evidence of your dishonesty for them to be able to pin the blame on you and call it a day, their resolution to this ‘conundrum’ is to have you take another test in the faculty office tomorrow after school, under the watchful eyes of two (wary) teachers. 

-

-

-

You let Xavier help you one last time—by relaying to you the answers from the paper tucked between two books on your teacher’s desk—before deciding that it’s probably for the best if you refrain from using your invisible friend for anything that could cause you more trouble in the long run; especially on the remaining days left of midterm week. 

Xavier looks deflated, but agrees. (The pout is back, though.) 

_____

“Where’d you get the name Xavier anyway?”

“It came to me in a dream,” he says cryptically. His face betrays nothing, so you can't figure out whether he’s telling the truth or just messing with you. 

“... Right.”

Xavier hides a smile. 

_____

“Hey, what are they talking about?” You ask Xavier from your perch on top of the staircase. You’ve been eavesdropping on the conversation downstairs for a while now, but you could barely make sense of the words being thrown around except for a couple of bad ones. 

Xavier cocks his head to the side, trying to listen in as well, before deciding to just transport himself closer to the source. 

Your dad, a man that you’ve spent considerably less time with compared to your grandfather (or basically everybody else, for that matter), came to visit today for reasons that aren’t really clear to you. But judging from the hushed whispers and periodic bouts of angry shouting down the living room, it isn’t for anything good. 

Your mom frequently uses the term “deadbeat”, and sometimes when she’s really in a mood, “a good-for-nothing waste of a man” when describing your father. You don’t have much of a relationship with him to feel offended on his behalf so you just nod along and agree when your mom goes off in a tirade.

You wonder sometimes, how things would be if you had a dad. A better one, perhaps. The kind of dad that picks you up after school in an SUV, just like how the dads from your class do for their kids. Or someone that’d take longer “shifts” at work to bring home enough to take care of the family, like how your mom does.

You wonder what it would be like to spend the holidays with another parent – the three of you welcoming New Years at home with a bunch of round fruits and maybe some sparklers, instead of having to sleep early at your grandparents’ house. 

Xavier floats back to your side after a few minutes, face set in a frown. “They’re saying something along the lines of moving somewhere nearer the city and finalizing the papers for the divorce. Your father’s talking about remarrying, as well.” 

It’s relayed to you in monotone, like someone reading off a script—or reciting exactly what they’ve heard sans the curse words—that it takes you a moment to process the information. 

After a beat, the only thing that comes out of you is a small, “oh.”

“Are you… okay?” 

It doesn't take much time for you to shake your head, along with the passing pipe dream you’ve entertained, if only for a few short minutes. 

You stand up from your crouched position near the top banister, leaving your little hiding spot to go back to your room. Xavier follows. 

“It’s fine,” you tell him with a shrug. “Do you wanna read Nightwing with me?” 

He agrees, of course. If he curls up closer to you when you stay up later that night to stare quietly at the glowing stars on your bedroom walls, neither of you brings it up in the morning.

_____

You had a fight with your mother earlier today. Xavier’s with you while you sit quietly on the tire swing behind your house. 

“Would you come with me if I go someplace far away from ‘ere?” 

“How far do you want to go?” 

“I dunno,” you shrug half-heartedly. “It’d be cool if we could go live on a planet of our own, don’cha think?” 

“Just the two of us?”

“Yeah. Somewhere I can just…” You struggle to find the words, but you settle on– “Breathe, I guess.” 

A flock of birds fly eastward. Envy colors you green as you think about the fact that they could call any place home without being tied down to a single location. 

“I’d like that,” Xavier smiles. “Maybe we could, one day. Once mankind improves the means for intergalactic travel.” 

“...Whatever you say, Xavi.” 

_____

It's your twelfth birthday.

You’re sitting at the head of the table surrounded by friends and family as they sing you a happy birthday. In front of you is a sunflower yellow buttercream cake with rainbow sprinkles and two lit candles in the shape of a large ONE and TWO. 

“Happy birthday to you,”

You watch your friends; girls in school that you grew up with since kindergarten, and some boys that you’ve climbed trees with during lunch breaks. Almost all of them have already gone through one or two phases over the course of years you’ve known them, and some you consider your closer friends are even acting a little distant as of late, already outgrowing old interests that you’d once shared. 

Even the general consensus on shows like Adventure Time and Spongebob has changed drastically ever since they all started watching Disney Channel. Flashy cell phones and handheld consoles are traded in place of old Barbie dolls and LeapFrog books; the latter are now kept hidden inside a dusty box underneath the bed, like forgotten relics of a simpler time.

“Happy birthday to youuu,”

They look different now, too. Some shot up in height, others gained a measly few inches. Some ditched the braids in exchange for a shag cut. The cooler kids even started wearing makeup. 

(You think you’d like to try putting on eyeliner if your mom wasn’t so strict.)

“Happy birthday, dear– ouch!” A yelp. “Jeremy, you dumdum, stop moving the cake too much!” 

Your gaze then shifts to your right, almost instinctively, to a space that all your other guests would find empty.

There, always by your side, your best friend remains the same as ever. Not the same in the sense that he looked the way he did when you first saw him eight years ago in your grandparents’ backyard, no. You’re not blind to the changes he’s gone through, in stages similar to your own. 

He’s grown taller, for one; almost as tall as you are now. The chub in his cheeks lost some of its roundness, and his limbs are lankier. His hair went through phases of being short, long, and the awkward in-between. When you had asked a couple years back how he’s able to change the length of it without going to a salon, he simply said he does it “to match yours when you do.” 

All-in-all, his physical appearance passes as a regular twelve-year-old boy, if not for the slight ‘otherworldly’ aspect one could probably… overlook. So ‘the same’ isn’t really how you’d describe him. 

“–happy biiirthday to youuu!” 

Xavier mouths the song along with the people in your life, his gaze trained on you the entire time. You look into the same galaxy-blue that you’ve associated with home, comfort, and just Xavier in every way—and you understand.

Constant. The word you're looking for is constant. 

You blow out your candles, wishing it could last forever. 

_____

“Don’t you think you’re getting a little too old for an imaginary friend, dear?” 

_____

Xavier finds you up the roof one rainy afternoon. You look like you’ve been crying. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach from the sight of your red-rimmed eyes. He sidles beside you, close enough that his right side almost merges with your left. 

(He’d like to imagine that you could feel him—as a source of warmth, of comfort to you while you shiver from both the cold and the heavy emotions weighing you down. He wishes he could be more than just a presence.)

“M-mom said that,” you sniff, angrily rubbing away the wetness in your eyes with the back of your hand. “–tha’ when I grow older, you won’t show up anymore.

That—that you’d be gone, ‘cos imaginary friends don’t stay with you when you’re all grown up.” Your bottom lip wobbles by the end of your sentence. 

A dark rain cloud looms overhead, signaling the coming of a storm stronger than the current downpour that’s drenching you to the bone. 

“You won’t leave me, would you, Xavi?” You whisper, turning to gaze at your dearest friend with greedy eyes, committing his form to memory, just in case he– “You won’t disappear on me, right?” 

There’s a crackle of energy in the air; a drop in temperature that causes the fine hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end.

“I don’t want you to ever go away.” 

(Neither does he.)

Something builds up inside Xavier. A desire, a need stronger than the limitations of the circumstance he’s dealt with since the beginning of his existence. It’s as vast and tumultuous as the birth of a star, and equally as brilliant. 

(He wants, he needs, he wishes–)

An answer from the high heavens comes in the form of a lightning strike, illuminating the world in a blinding veil of white for less than a second. The resounding “crack!” feels like a blessing. Like an affirmation from the court of gods listening in on the boy’s plea. 

A boon is granted, born from an ambition so great. And for a moment, Xavier burns brighter than any of the billion pinpricks of light in the night sky. 

-

-

-

On a roof, two children sit facing each other under a raging tempest, threads of fate tying them together in an unbreakable bond. 

Snip.

Something falls into place. 

“Never,” he vows. “I’ll always be with you. Forever.” 

Can't stop thinking about how Sylus is implied to have been abandoned by his kin as a child. He was rejected and let down and hurt by every. single. person in his life bar one simply because he wasn't dragon enough for one group, and not human enough for the other. He was an outsider and an outcast from his earliest days. Only one person ever made him feel seen and cherished. And yet he was willing to let go of this sole person when that seemed to be what she wanted him to.

Let that sink in.

From childhood Sylus was discarded and unloved, and had more than likely not had a single truly happy day in his life until meeting MC. She was the first person he ever had that cared about him. The only one to love, accept, and want him unconditionally. MC represents everything good in his life. She is the person who taught him his worth and that he is not the monster he believed himself to be. The one who made him feel human for the first time in his life, who showed him what it is to love and be loved, who introduced him to the beauty of music and of life. The one who willingly shared half a soul with him to save his life, and who helped shape the person he is today.

MC is everything to Sylus. He spent the (most likely numerous) decades after coming back to life searching the cosmos for her. He built Onychinus and his empire with the intent of ruling it with her by his side. He dedicates himself to taking down the evil corporaation that harmed her as a child. So much of what he's done and still does is for her sake, and in hopes of building a happy life and future together. In a lot of ways, he lives for her. She is the living embodiment of his happiness.

And yet... he was and is willing to let her go if that is what she wants or what is best for her.

Because his love for her is pure. At his core, Sylus' heart is pure, in spite of everything that he has endured.

My heart bleeds when I think of all that he's been put through. But it is so healing to see him be loved, treasured, and happy now, his recent birthday event being a prime example of that. He is living the life he always deserved but was out of his reach for most of his life.

There is a place for Sylus in this warm, peaceful world 🩷

hii, im really a sucker for arguments/angst imagine HAHA can I please have a request for LaDS guys where they made you flinch in an argument (^_^;)

LaDS men when you flinch during an argument

pairings: Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb x Reader

content: arguments, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings if you squint

a/n: small break from the silly

Xavier

Xavier usually didn’t get worked up during arguments, he’d just observe.

He’d listen to everything you had to say, taking the words to heart but trying not to engage too much, especially when he noticed you were starting to get more animated.

This time, however, was different.

He was upset and he wanted you to know.

He wasn’t raising his voice, he wasn’t being mean or mocking but his face gave his inner conflict away.

You weren’t backing down and neither was he.

“I can hold my own and you know that Xavier, you’ve seen me in action.”

His sharp inhale didn’t go unnoticed by you,

“I’m not doubting that, not doubting you, I just need to know that you won’t get hurt.”

It’s like you two were talking right past each other,

“I won’t, we don’t need to be attached at the hip for you to know that!”

He turned around quickly,

“Yes but I want to be able to reach you quickly, to get to you in time-“

He took a fast, heavy step towards you, wanting you to see the sincerity and genuine concern on his face, what he didn’t anticipate was for you to flinch at his sudden approach.

He stopped, his words catching in his throat as he just… looked at you.

You stared up at him, hands balled up in front of you and he felt immense regret wash over him.

“You…”

He started but couldn’t finish the sentence, being at a loss for words.

You lowered your hands, trying to adapt a more relaxed stance,

“Xavier, I didn’t mean to…”

His head hung low now, his eyes covered by his bangs.

You could see his shoulders rise and fall with uneven breaths.

Silence stretched between the two of you.

“Xavier…”

You tried again, softer this time.

He didn’t respond, he was standing there, the internal conflict in his mind clear.

When his gaze finally met yours again, his expression left you breathless.

It wasn’t what you had expected, it wasn’t anger, not disappointed but aching.

“I would never…”

The words left him quietly, not able to voice out what exactly had gone down just now.

“I need you to believe that.”

“I do,”

You blurted out,

“It’s not your fault. You just surprised me and I-“

“I scared you.”

He finished for you.

“Even if I didn’t do it on purpose, I can’t just say that, that’s okay with me.”

You took a careful step closer, tension between the two of you starting to ease.

Xavier didn’t move, he just watched.

“I know you’re not trying to control me,”

You said.

“But I need you to trust the decisions I make. And that I can take care of myself and still come back to you.”

“I trust you.”

He murmured,

“But what if something happens and I’m not there? What if I won’t be able to reach you in time-“

He swallowed the “again” that was about to slip him,

He took a small breath and then looked down at his hands.

“…can I touch you?”

He asked, hesitantly.

“Just- your hand. If it’s okay.”

You immediately softened at that.

You nodded, yes.

“Of course.”

He inched closer, steps slow, making sure you took in every one of his movements.

His hand reached for yours, getting a hold of it as if it were something fragile.

He brushed the back of your hand with his thumb in an attempt to ground himself.

“I’m sorry.”

You held onto his hand tightly, squeezing.

“I’m glad you’re being open about your concern but don’t try and decide for me. You want to protect me and I want to protect you.”

The ghost of a smile showed on his lips.

He leaned closer, close enough for your breaths to mingle.

He whispered,

“I want to figure this out with you.”

And this time, when his hand lifted to touch your cheek, you leaned into it without hesitation.

Zayne

The silence between you and Zayne hung heavy in the hospital room, occasionally interrupted by the soft hums of the equipment around the room.

Your boyfriend had been trying, trying to get through to you.

Telling you to stop pushing your limits, to stop taking unnecessary risks.

Yet you brushed him off everytime.

And now the consequences sat between the two of you.

“You could’ve gotten seriously injured.”

His voice was laced with restrained emotion.

Your eyes were looking at everything but him, hands clenched into fists at your sides.

“I know. I just didn’t think-“

“Exactly. You didn’t think.”

He interrupted you, voice sharper than what you were used to.

His eyes were cold behind his glasses,

“I kept trying to tell you-“

He went to adjust his glasses, hand raising.

But out of instinct, you flinched at the sudden movement.

It wasn’t a big reaction, barely a twitch but it was enough to gain Zayne’s attention.

He froze.

His face fell and any trace of anger and disappointment gone.

Instead, it was replaced by hurt.

He started,

“I wasn’t going to-“

A shaky exhale left him,

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Zayne stood awkwardly, his shoulders were tense, guilt reflecting in his eyes.

You looked up at him.

“It’s okay.”

Your eyes met, relief finally easing onto his face.

Still, he didn’t dare to move.

“…are you sure?”

You nodded, a small smile gracing your lips.

That’s when he stepped forward.

This time, not to lecture and to fight but just to be there.

Rafayel

A storm cloud was starting to form in the room.

The tension thick because of something more akin to a misunderstanding than an argument. At least that’s how Rafayel saw it.

He was gesturing animatedly, his voice was getting a little more heated than intended as he tried to explain himself, it was unusual for him to get so worked up over something he himself considered trivial.

Your arms were crossed, your brows were furrowed, frustration written on your face.

With one especially sudden swing of his arm, you flinched.

You stepped back a bit and Rafayel felt himself freeze as his words were caught in his throat.

He was staring at you, confusion and concern displayed on his face.

“Why?”

His voice had quieted down, soft.

“What… why did you react like that?”

You couldn’t immediately answer.

You were standing still, feeling guilty at that urge that had overcome you.

It was an instinctive reaction, not something you had realised in time to stop.

Rafayel hesitated, he could feel his hands twitch with the urge to reach out to you, wanting to comfort you but doubt filled his mind.

He was torn between wanting to pull you close and giving you the space you might’ve needed.

“Have I ever made you feel unsafe?”

His question wasn’t meant to make you feel guilty, it was sincere, making your heartbreak even more.

The raw vulnerability in his tone simply had your heart aching.

His question hung between you two, it was his way of asking for reassurance.

You shook your head, whispering,

“No,”

You put your hand over your heart,

“No, Rafayel. Never. I wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t mean to react like that.”

You could see some of the tension leave him.

The next time his eyes found yours, they were filled with the light echo of relief but also a hint of regret.

“I shouldn’t have gotten carried away like that.”

He stepped closer, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist, an attempt to test the waters.

“Can I… hold you? Or do you want some space?”

You offered him a small, comforting smile,

“Come here, you big baby.”

A sigh of relief left him and he stepped closer to pull you into an embrace.

His hand brushed through your hair, as if attempting to make all your pain and sorrows go away.

“I’m sorry.”

He whispered against your ear, his voice low and sincere.

Sylus

Sylus and you stood opposite of each other, his face was devoid of any emotion but you could see his eyes, dark with frustration, showing his true feelings.

You went on a mission he warned you about, recklessly pushing ahead without considering any risks.

And lo and behold, it had gone sideways.

His arms were crossed over his chest and his breath came in sharp, controlled bursts.

“Do you think this is a game?”

His voice was firm, his words sharp.

“I told you not to go, not alone, and what do you do?”

“I could handle it.”

Cutting him off, you tried to stand your ground, though you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

As he let out a frustrated exhale, he threw his hand up, running it through his hair.

His movement was so fast and controlled, that you couldn’t help but flinch back, instinctively shrinking away.

The man facing you froze.

For a moment that felt far longer than it actually was, the room felt suffocating.

He stared at you with wide eyes, caught between something you couldn’t quite make out and something softer, something making his chest ache.

He felt overwhelmed by guilt.

“You know, Id never hurt you, right?”

His question was barely above a whisper.

His gaze softened, frustration replaced by something more vulnerable.

Your answer was caught in your throat.

You felt his gaze on you, watching you carefully, analysing your every move like you were something fragile, small.

Something to protect.

After a second, Sylus took a step back, creating some space between the two of you, giving you room to breathe.

He felt the weight of his actions making his shoulders sag.

He wanted to reach out, make sure you were okay but something in the back of his mind told him not, to not scare you further.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The regret in his voice shining through,

“I was worried. And I often don’t know how to get that through to you without pushing.”

You lowered your head, letting his words settle, understanding him.

“I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t taking it seriously. I was just-“

You stopped yourself, inhaling, to collect your thoughts,

“I guess I just didn’t want to feel like I couldn’t handle it.”

Sylus watched you, his features softening.

He quietly said,

“You’re strong.”

A slow exhale,

“But you should know you have nothing to prove to me. All I ask for is to know that you’re safe.”

You searched for his eyes, finding worry and care still there.

They were always there.

Under all of it, even on the rare occasions that his frustrations got the better of him.

He muttered an apology, slowly closing the space between you.

“This won’t happen again.”

He kept up the eye contact as his hand reached out.

You didn’t flinch this time.

It came to rest on your shoulder, the slight pressure from his heavy hand grounding you.

It felt like an unspoken promise between the two of you.

He’d be by your side no matter what.

Caleb

Caleb’s voice was thick with concern, frustration and something he tried not to reveal to you often: fear.

He wasn’t one to argue, never one to raise his voice or escalate things, not when it came to you.

But this, this was about your safety and he couldn’t just stand to the side and not do anything.

“You’re not listening to me.”

His voice was steady, yet the edges let his worry show.

“You could’ve been hurt and you don’t even seem to care.”

Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, brows furrowed.

You didn’t want to back down, wanting to stand your ground but you knew he was only acting like this because he cared.

Yet the ache of knowing he still doubted your capabilities pushed you to keep going.

“I can take care of myself.”

You said, frustration overtaking your voice,

“You’ve seen me in action before.”

In a moment of bad judgment, he thrust his arm out to emphasise his point, the movement swift.

Before he could even finish speaking, you flinched.

Caleb halted at that, words dying in his throat, eyes widening in realisation.

He felt his chest constrict slightly, breath hitching.

No, I-“

His voice cracked as he took a step back, face twisted in a display of guilt.

“I’m so sorry.”

He murmured, struggling to look you in the eyes.

Before you knew it, he dropped to his knees in front of you, face pale.

The slight tremble in his hands didn’t escape you, as he reached for you, not wanting to overstep but trying to lay his heart bare to you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I would never-“

He stopped mid sentence, shaking his head,

“I should’ve thought before… moving like that, acting like that.”

Your heart was pounding as you watched him bow his head in front of you, remorse clear on his face.

“I’m sorry.”

He said again, voice desperate.

“Please, just… tell me you’re okay. I didn’t mean to hurt you...”

He trailed off, wide eyes looking up at you, searching for a sign, any sign that you didn’t fear him, didn’t hate him.

He had to know that he didn’t destroy something he held so dear.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you reached out, patting his head.

He stiffened at first, he was hesitant, but your warm touch seemed to reel him in.

“I’m okay.”

You reassured,

“It wasn’t your fault. It was just a reflex.”

Unbeknownst to you, Caleb wasn’t looking for reassurance, he was looking for forgiveness.

“Forgive me? Please?”

His voice was low, unsure, letting his insecurities and vulnerability show.

You knelt beside him, meeting his gaze with softness.

Cupping his face, you felt the warmth coming off him.

His breath was starting to steady slightly.

“Nothing to forgive you for…”

Your quiet voice reached his ears,

“I know you’d never hurt me, Caleb.”

He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, resembling a puppy.

You closed the last of the space between you two, resting your forehead against his.

You and Caleb didn’t need words to understand one another.