hi long one but this is a very important hc / imagine that me and a friend felt is important to share, this is yet another part of the LADS future children series (i made one about rafayel and having twin lemurian babies you can find it in the masterlist here)
taglist: @feralkuromi (if you wanna be added lmk :D)
Anyway without further ado
Have we ever talked about how alienated and alone Xavier felt in his family? How estranged he is from his father and just doesn't seem to fit in?
Xavier would adopt because he probably wants to give a home to some kid that feels just as alone as he did. He wants to give someone a family, a family he didn't have, and he wants to be a good father. He really just wants to be there for a child that doesn't feel like they belong, or even give a kid a home. Wants to give someone that was like him long ago and chance to feel like they belong, or that they at leave have somewhere they can return to and feel safe in.
He will discuss this with you at length, seeming calm, but super nervous because adoption is a lot and he doesn't know your thoughts on it. If you agree to it, just know he will be extremely happy. This doesn't push the idea of having kids being born off the table by the way, he just... really wants to adopt first.
Xavier will do EXTENSIVE research, by the way, this isn't a spur of the moment thing. He's probably been thinking about this for the longest amount of time, and he wants to make sure he does this parenting thing right, especially with a kid who already had a family and must have gone through so much. Genuinely, he is so thoughtful about everything, he will do research alongside you as well.
Paperwork is fun, but hey, you both get through it and end up getting approved.
You end up being matched with a young boy who's about 11-12. His parents were lost in a Wanderer attack when he was 3, and he has no relatives willing to take him in, so he was sent to a home. He had been in about 2 families before but sent back simply because there just wasn't that 'spark', or it wasn't the right fit, etc...
The boy liked taking care of the younger kids. He would tell them bedtime stories or fairy tales, he'd always reassure them... he got used to being there. So when he got matched with both of you, he was surprised (most people who visited usually went for the younger kids because they were deemed 'less troublesome' and had 'no baggage').
There are a lot of pre-placement visits once matched. The first one is nerve-wracking on both ends.
You end up taking the lead in the beginning, learning about the boy, trying to get him to feel comfortable in your presence (he's a little anxious himself), meanwhile Xavier is just quiet beside you (man is overthinking a lot about what to say or do).
In the end though, you leave the two to their devices for a bit (under excuse of 'going to the bathroom') and they start talking. And they get along well.
The boy wants to be a Deepspace Hunter when he gets older so no more kids end up losing their parents to Wanderers. He's currently practicing how to use a sword in school because he wants to be like the knights in stories he read when he was younger, and he always plays the knight whenever playing pretend with the younger kids.
Xavier explained that he's a Deepspace Hunter, and offers to see the boy's technique. And the two begin bonding almost instantly.
As the end of the visit drew near, the boy asked Xavier a question: "If I was your son and you were my dad, would you take me to eat hotpot?"
And Xavier replied: "I would take you anywhere, regardless of if you wanted me as your dad."
The next visit, at the boy's request, you and Xavier took him out to hotpot. And you found out that the boy also had quite the appetite on him.
He and Xavier are alike in many ways. He fit right into your little family. But of course, the boy is the one who must consent to the adoption.
This is a very slow process of building up trust with the boy, but Xavier is adamant on making it work. He's learning how the boy grew up, the environment he's used to, what his daily routine looks like, and already adjusting the home in order to be more familiar to him.
Xavier is also asking the foster parents on advice almost constantly. He's making such an effort to ensure the boy feels right at home (he really wants to get this right, he doesn't want to fail the boy). Man is scouring forums, reading books, everything.
Then the boy does end up being placed in your home with you and Xavier. Things still need to be legalized and finalized in court of course—right now, it's the moment of seeing how he ends up fairing in the household.
He ends up liking the place well! You and Xavier help decorate his room, there's new games that have been bought, and more snacks and food filling the kitchen. The pantries have more silverware, and now there's three plates at the table instead of the usual two.
You introduce the boy to the garden you and Xavier cultivated, you show him the piano (and even play a bit together)... he's making himself at home, really.
He does express fear that you and Xavier may return him back, that neither of you want to go through with this. Because this was the moment when he was sent back the past few times. But, both of you continue to shower him in love.
Xavier really is a good father-to-be, and you recognize that as he helps the kid study for school, knows when to be kind and slightly stern, is doing his best not to overstep boundaries... reminds you of when he was first navigating his relationship with you, and when you realized what a kind and thoughtful partner he is.
It's when the boy one day calls Xavier "dad" and calls you "mom/dad/[insert gender neutral parental title here]" that both of you break. Up until that point, he'd been calling Xavier "Mr. Shen" and you in a similar fashion". But then he told you he wants to be your son. For real. And you and Xavier could not be happier.
After everything is finalized and he's officially adopted, not much has changed. Because truth is, the boy had become a part of the family, had already been seen as your son the moment Xavier met him.
He will grow up into a fine young man, with both his and your guidance. And I know for a fact he will feel loved and cherished by the both of you.
Tag: Xavier x f!reader, Zayne x f!reader Warning: reader is not MC, angst, no comfort (yet), parallel universe(isekai), third-person
"You're in love with someone who is not me." "How can you be so sure?" "Cause I'm nothing like her" "It's not the looks or personality that I'm in love with. It's the soul"
You know them, but they don't know you. Still, no barrier you erect can conceal the truth of their discovery.
Part 2! [Rafayel, Sylus] x reader
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You truly love the game, you really do. The atmosphere, the intricate details, the beautiful lighting that sets the perfect mood, and the voice lines that bring each character to life. It all comes together so beautifully.
The protagonist of the game is strong, smart, and undeniably beautiful, exactly like what you would expect in a game like this. And she’s nothing like you. Or rather, you're nothing like her. There are moments when you can’t help but feel a twinge of envy, but other times, you just push it aside and enjoy the ride.
But now, as you look at her across the street with your own eyes now, you're sure that you are definitely not her. You let out a quiet sigh, turning away and heading back to your temporary resting spot in this world. The weight of the different life is heavy in your thoughts. You need to find a way to get back.
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"No matter how many times it takes, no matter where you are… I will find you."
The street is as busy as ever, people moving past in a blur. He can't wait to get home after his mission and take a nap. Somehow, he catches a glimpse of someone and instinctively reaches out.
The sharp honking of a car pulls him out of his thoughts, and his gaze snaps back to her, the stranger he had grabbed. For a brief moment, he's taken aback, confusion crossing his face as he processes the fact that she isn't the person he had mistaken her for.
Xavier exhales sharply, trying to steady himself. "Apologies." He says, his voice rough and edged with frustration. "I thought you were someone else."
"…It's okay…" The girl says softly.
Xavier nods silently, still feeling a deep sense of guilt and regret. He can't help but still notice the similarities. He looks at her for a moment longer before breaking the silence.
"It's just..." He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "You really do look like...this person I know."
She looked at him warily, as if caught off guard, her tone flat but with a slight edge. "How so?"
Xavier scratches the back of his head, his eyes roaming her face once again, as if trying to pinpoint the similarities. He catches himself, realizing how that might sound. "You're just…similar."
"…Whoever you’re looking for." She says, her voice flat, as she steps closer to him. "I'm afraid I'm not them. You must have mistaken." She adds, her words clear, as if she is offering him a quiet but undeniable truth.
Noticing that he didn’t respond, she huffed, a mix of frustration and resignation settling in, feeling like the conversation had reached its end. With no more words to say, she turned and started to walk away.
In a moment, panic sweeps over Xavier, a feeling that he's about to lose something important. His body reacts before his mind can catch up. His hand shoots out, grabbing her wrist gently but firmly, pulling her back.
"Wait." His voice is a little hoarse, a mix of urgency and uncertainty. His grip is firm, but not forceful.
Xavier watches her intently, his gaze never leaving her face as he studies her features. There's a comforting presence that he responds to in her demeanor.
"I...I was just wondering..." He starts, his voice faltering for a moment. "What food do you like?"
"Pardon?"
Xavier's cheeks redden slightly, realizing how odd the question must sound. He rubs the back of his head, trying to play off his curiosity.
"I just... I was just curious." He says, his voice a mixture of embarrassment and honesty.
"…Why? You're going to take me out for dinner or something?" She let out a small laugh, but it quickly fades when she notices he doesn’t laugh back.
Xavier's heart skips a beat at her laugh, a genuine smile almost forming on his lips. He'd be lying if he said the idea didn't sound appealing.
"I just thought it would be nice to know more about you." He finally manages to say it, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.
"... You do realize we just met, right?" She asked, tilting her head slightly as she studied him.
Xavier nods, unable to tear his gaze away from her. His heart rate is still quickened, the mixture of shame, curiosity, and newfound attraction swirling within him.
"Yes." He says, his voice soft and genuine. "That's why I want to know more about you..." He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his usual cool demeanor.
She couldn't help but notice the way his eyes softened, almost pleading, as if silently hoping she would say yes. The vulnerability in his gaze was impossible to ignore. She wasn’t sure if it was his sincerity or the weight of the moment.
"I'm sorry... It's just that I'm a bit busy at the moment." She said, her voice soft but firm.
Xavier's heart sinks, a mix of disappointment and understanding washing over him. He had been caught up in the moment, the closeness, the connection he felt.
He nods slightly, a small sigh escaping his lips. "Right. Of course."
He steps back, putting a little more distance between them, and averts his gaze
She nods, offering a soft, half-hearted smile. "I hope you find the person you're… looking for… Have a nice day."
The words hang in the air for a moment, a gentle attempt at parting that feels heavier than intended.
Xavier's gaze lifts, his eyes meeting hers for a final moment. The disappointment is still there, but he manages to force a smile onto his face, even if it doesn't reach his eyes.
"Yeah." He replies, his voice a little hoarse. "You too."
He watches she walks away, the space between you two stretching further with each step. Each footfall feels like a silent reminder of what’s slipping out of reach.
"I will find you." "I don't want to be founded."
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"When you and the world wake up, I hope we do not met again"
Zayne was beyond exhausted. The hospital was packed with patients. He had been on his feet all day, working tirelessly to treat and care for everyone who came through the doors.
So he changed his course after work, heading for a nearby coffee shop. He noticed he was the only customer left, likely due to the late hour or approaching closing time.
The sound of ringing fills the air as the door opens. A person steps in behind him, moving to the counter to place an order.
"Hi, can I get a…?"
The person's soft, clear voice pierced Zayne's ears as he heard them place her drink order. He blurted out the name of the drink before he could stop himself.
The person tensed, quickly turning to face him, her eyes widening in surprise as if she recognized him.
Zayne quickly averted his gaze, pretending to be completely engrossed in looking at the decorations.
She stared at him briefly before returning to her order, speaking quickly. "Yeah and I would like a dessert with it too... "
"It seems we're out of dessert for tonight, he’s already taken the last one." The attendant said with a regretful tone.
"Oh." Her voice tinged with disappointment
With a hint of hesitation, he spoke up. "If you’d like, I can give it to you."
"That …won’t be necessary. You come first, after all." She stammered, offered a polite smile
Zayne shook his head slowly. "No, it's really alright." He said, his voice calm and reassuring. "I can go without it for tonight." He paused, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment.
Zayne was caught off guard by his own actions. Why on earth was he offering his dessert to a complete stranger? Was it just an impulsive gesture, or was there something else driving him?
After a brief pause, he discreetly looked her up and down, his expression thoughtful. "Have we met before?"
She widened her eyes in surprise, then offered a sad smile. "I don't believe we did."
Odd… Zayne thought, his suspicion not quite quelled. He couldn't quite put his finger on what was so familiar about her. She didn't look like anyone he knew, and yet he was convinced he had seen her somewhere before. Regardless of it, he strangely feels a sense of contentment when he sees her.
She glanced at him briefly, uneasy under his gaze. "You... just got off work?" She asked, hoping to shift the focus.
"Yeah, the hospital nearby." Zayne replied casually, his gaze still fixed on her.
His suspicions were not eased, no matter how hard he tried to suppress them. There was just something so oddly familiar about her, as if he had seen her before somewhere, in some other place in time. He couldn't quite place it, and it was driving him crazy.
She nodded slightly, her gaze flickering briefly. "You work quite... late."
"It's a part of the job." Zayne replied with a shrug, his expression remained neutral.
She smiled nervously, each question she asked only deepening the awkwardness. Feeling the tension grow, she fell silent, unsure of what to say next, hoping the quiet would ease things.
Zayne found himself wondering if she visited the coffee shop frequently. The location was slightly out of the way and secluded, which made him question if she came here often.
"Do you come here often?" He asked suddenly, breaking the silence between them. "There aren't many places open this late."
"Not... really." She replied, a slight shrug lifting her shoulders. "I just discovered it a few days ago…"
Zayne nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly. He couldn't shake off the feeling of worry growing inside him. Here she was, a lone girl in a quiet area so late at night.
"You know, you really shouldn't be walking around alone... especially at this hour." Zayne found himself saying without thinking, his concern finally getting the better of him.
She narrowed her eyes slightly, a defensive edge creeping into her tone. "I can handle myself." She said, her words sharp but quiet.
The waiter approached and handed Zayne his drink first, breaking the conversation for a moment. He gave a small nod of thanks.
Zayne glanced at his watch, realizing just how late it had gotten. He took one sip of his drink, holding up the cup before turning back to her.
"I better get going. Got an early day tomorrow."
The words slipped out almost instinctively, as if he felt the need to let her know, even though there was no real reason to. His gaze lingered for a moment, unsure if he should say anything more.
She didn’t answer or glance at him, keeping her gaze fixed ahead. A sense of disappointment washed over him, he must have offended her. Without a word, he turned and walked out, silently hoping their paths would cross again.
"I hope we do not meet again." "So do i."
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I know it sound deludelu but i just need some angst in my life a bit. I'll post the rest later. Also no hate to the MC. Her character is well-built, and i love her personality.
— synopsis: you go to akso hospital to get your child their vaccine.
zayne was always the one to handle these things, but now that he's gone—
you don't know what to do.
— note/s: n/a
cross-posted on ao3! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
i.
“mommy, are we gonna see daddy?”
you freeze with your hand on the car door, your child’s small voice cutting clean through the dull hum of the engine. there’s a soft rustling sound as they shift in their car seat, wide eyes peering at you expectantly from the rearview mirror.
you swallow. “no, baby.” you keep your voice steady, soft. careful. “we’re just going to the hospital to get your shots.”
their face scrunches up. “but daddy always gives me my shots.”
your chest tightens, a sharp pressure beneath your ribs. “i know.”
you don’t tell them why it’s different this time. you don’t tell them why daddy isn’t coming home.
you climb into the driver’s seat and close the door. the seatbelt clicks into place, and you adjust the mirror. you breathe. in and out. your wedding ring catches the light as you grip the steering wheel. zayne’s ring sits cool and heavy against your collarbone, hanging from the delicate chain around your neck. you reach up and press it between your fingers.
“mommy?”
you glance back at them. “yeah?”
“daddy’s gonna be proud of me for being brave, right?”
you smile. it’s thin. it wobbles at the edges. “yeah, baby. he’s always proud of you.”
ii.
the hospital smells like disinfectant and stale coffee. you adjust your child on your hip as you stand at the reception desk, the too-bright fluorescent lights making you feel exposed.
the receptionist glances up. “can i help you?”
“um.” you hesitate. “my child has a vaccine appointment?”
the receptionist taps at the keyboard. “name?”
you give it. the receptionist hums and scans the screen.
“do you have the vaccination record?”
you open your mouth. close it. “uh… no. sorry.”
“that’s okay.” she types a few more things. “we can look it up. when was the last time your child got their MMR booster?”
your mind blanks. “uh… i don’t know.”
the receptionist raises an eyebrow.
“my husband usually handled that stuff,” you add quickly.
the receptionist looks up at you then, a flicker of recognition sparking behind her eyes. her gaze drops to your ring and then to the chain around your neck. her face softens. “dr. zayne?”
your throat tightens. “yeah.”
a pause. “i’m… sorry for your loss.”
you nod stiffly. “thanks.”
she glances toward the back. “do you want to sit down? i’ll have someone come get you soon.”
“yeah. okay.”
you settle into one of the plastic chairs in the waiting area, your child curling against your side. they tug at your sleeve. “mommy?”
“yeah?”
“do you think daddy would be proud of me if i don’t cry?”
you press your lips together and kiss the top of their head. “he’d be proud of you no matter what.”
iii.
the nurse who calls you in knows you, too. you see the flash of recognition in her eyes when she reads the file.
“you’re dr. zayne’s wife?”
“yeah.”
“i’m sorry for your loss.”
you manage a thin smile. “thanks.”
she looks at your child. “alright, sweetheart. ready for your shot?”
their hand curls around your sleeve. “is daddy gonna do it?”
the nurse’s expression falters.
you stroke their hair. “no, honey. daddy’s not here right now. but this nice nurse is going to take care of you.”
their lip wobbles. “but… what if it hurts?”
“it might,” you say softly. “but you’re brave, remember?”
their eyes shine. “like daddy?”
“just like daddy.”
the nurse smiles kindly. “alright, big kid. let’s get this over with.”
your child squeezes their eyes shut as the needle goes in, their hand clutching yours. they don’t cry.
when it’s over, they beam up at you. “i was brave!”
you stroke their cheek. “so brave.”
“daddy’s gonna be proud of me!”
the nurse’s gaze flickers toward you. you know what she’s thinking, but you don’t say anything.
“yeah, baby.” your voice shakes. “he’s so proud.”
iv.
you walk back through the hospital corridors, your child skipping at your side. your wedding ring feels heavier than usual on your finger. zayne’s ring presses cold against your chest.
the hallways are familiar. too familiar. you pass by rooms zayne used to work in, faces zayne used to know. they all look at you with soft eyes and hushed voices. you hate it.
your child’s hand tugs at yours. “can we get ice cream now?”
you smile faintly. “yeah. we can do that.”
they light up. “can i get chocolate?”
“of course.”
“and can we tell daddy that i was brave?”
you don’t answer right away. your hand closes around the ring at your neck.
“he already knows,” you say quietly.
you walk through the automatic doors, stepping into the sharp brightness of the afternoon sun.
Prompt : In a cozy mountain chalet, you and Xavier escapes the chaos of everyday life, enjoying lazy mornings and homemade breakfasts. Genre: Fluff Warnings: slight suggestive content Words count : 1506
The small things you notice when you wake up is the gentle warmth of the sun warming the white sheets, the sweet breeze slipping into the room through the French window making the curtains fly before settling into the crook of your neck, and the comforting smell of breakfast in the making.
It’s mainly this smell that pushes you to get out of this cozy bed, your appetite being stronger than your need for relaxation. You escape the covers, taking a moment to stretch before leaving the bedroom.
It was going to be a very good day; you were sure of it.
Your bare feet caress the wooden floor of the chalet you rented in the mountains at three hours from Linkon City, you were told it was the best spot to stargaze at this time of year. You wanted to spend time with your boyfriend without having to think about all the responsibilities you had back in Linkon, the last year had been hectic enough. Well, no use thinking about it for now, let's get back to your boyfriend.
As you step into the room, the smell you were following since you were awake washed over you, but now you could distinguish it more subtly, it was a mix of bread toasting, the smell of red beans and scrambled eggs. There was some jazz playing in the background, and you could also feel the heat of the sun reverberating through the windows of the living room, the kitchen of the rental being open, it opened directly onto this room with a cozy atmosphere.
Your eyes finally paused on the back of Xavier, and what a back, he was wearing a plain white t-shirt clinging to his skin in some place, probably because of the steam who had gradually settled in the room. Your eyes travelled down his body, his soft hair, his strong arms, those little shorts that highlighted his legs... and not only his legs. You approached him discreetly, before sneaking your arms around his back, nestling your face against him, smelling the perfume you bought him for the new year. His body tensed up a little before letting out a soft, husky laugh as he took one of your hands to kiss it.
“Good morning, sleepyhead” he whispered before letting go of your hand.
“You’re the sleepyhead in the relationship” you teased, squeezing him a bit tighter. It was common knowledge that Xavier slept a lot, but you didn't hold it against him, he was one of the best, if not the best, Deepspace Hunter.
“Maybe but you’re the one waking up after me, so you’re the official sleepyhead today” he responded smiling before going back to his cooking. You stood on tiptoe to look at what he was doing, resting your head on his shoulders to find some balance, he was folding some dough.
"What are you doing?" you asked, trying to reach for the dough but unable to grab it as his body acted like a dam between you and the dough.
“Some Red Bean Buns, with some toasts and scrambled eggs… don’t touch” he said laughing, pushing gently your hand away.
“Please” you purred, pressing a kiss against his neck and sliding a hand under his shirt, caressing his belly and tracing his abs.
He melted against your touch, grabbing back your wrist and holding it against him. “No, you go back to bed, and I handle the breakfast, I promise I won’t burn anything this time.” He turned toward you, moving your hand to his upper back before crouching slightly, sliding his arms around you and kissing your lips softly.
It was your turn to melt, you closed your eyes, losing yourself in the kiss before you felt a thick texture on the tip of your nose, you opened back your eyes in surprise, looking straight into the mischievous gaze of the culprit.
“What is it?” you asked, pouting before moving one of your hands from under Xavier’s shirt, touching the thing on your nose and looking at the reddish-brown paste on your finger.
“Red bean paste, I told you I was making buns, right?” he replied before licking the tip of your finger. You looked at him like he just killed someone. “Why do you look at me like that?” he smiled, pinching slightly your cheek.
“You just tricked me and then you steal my paste, who am I in love with ?!” you joked, taking a step back dramatically, clutching your imaginary pearls.
“A monster, now go back to bed” he said, rolling his eyes with an exasperated smile.
“I’m going back to bed because I decided to, not because you told me” You said with a face falsely annoyed, leaving the room before coming back a few seconds later, sticking your head out from behind the hallway wall. Xavier tilting his head back to look at you.
“I love you” you grinned before disappearing behind the wall, walking down the hallway you heard him replying to you. “I love you too!” he exclaimed loudly enough to make sure you heard him. Xavier usually had a soft-spoken tone, so as you let yourself fall on the fluffy bed, you can’t stop yourself from kicking your feet and giggling.
Ten minutes had passed since you went back to bed, you were scrolling on your phone while enjoying the sun. You heard the door opened, his back walking before the rest of his body as he walked into the room backward, turning around once the door was closed.
“Good morning, again, Miss” he walked toward the bed, holding the plate carefully, settling down on the cover, making sure not a thing spilled. You looked at the plate more closely, there were some of those delicious buns he was making,a few toasts, some with jam and butter and others with avocado and salmon, the scrambled eggs were in a big egg-shaped bowl.
“Look at this feast! You outdone yourself!” You grab his arm pulling him in bed, next to you, his weight making the glasses of juices almost spilling. “Oops, sorry” you said as he carefully leaned back against the headboard.
“But you didn’t even eat anything yet.” he grabbed one of the buns, splitting it in half and giving you a piece of it, the smell was divine.
“Mmmh, that’s so good!” you moaned as you took a bite, the soft dough and the red beans paste melting against your palate.
“If you continue to make those noises while we eat, I think we will have to postpone breakfast for a few hours.”
You almost choke as you looked back at him, he was innocently tilting his head before starting eating his bun.
“Xavier! You can’t say that while I’m eating!” you laughed, playfully hitting his arm.
“I did breakfast, I have all the right my dear.” He kissed your cheek before reaching for the juice.
You spend the rest of the morning eating those delicious delicacies, while speaking about everything and teasing each other, as always.
It was now the afternoon, a little rain was cooling the weather, the breeze still moving the curtains of the room. You and Xavier held each other close, your head resting on his shoulder, one of your legs wrapped around his, his arm around your shoulders while the other was holding a book. You were helping him, turning the pages when he needed to.
“And done.” He put the book on the bedside table, he had just finished the new book he bought at the library last week.
“So, was it as interesting as you thought?” you asked, hugging him tightly.
“Yeah, it was but I have a more interesting right…” he touched the tip of your nose “here.”
He turned toward you rapidly. You let out a yelp of surprise as he positioned himself in such a way that you ended up beneath him. He didn’t waste a second before trailing a series of soft kisses across your face. When he finally kissed your lips, you pulled him into a more languorous kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist pushing him into you.
His hands found his way under your shirt, while yours ended up on the back of his neck. His warm hands were a contrast with the coldness of your body, making you both shivered.
You tried to pull back from the kiss to catch your breath, but he trapped you bottom lip between his teeth. “I guess” a kiss “the breakfast” a kiss “was not enough” another kiss “for you because I feel like you trying” an encore kiss “to devour me” you ended up saying breathlessly, a smile on your face.
“What can I say?” He nestled his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m an insatiable man’’ you felt him smirk against your skin as he said that before you felt his hands travel down your body.
It was going to be a very good day; you were sure of it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A/N : it was my first long fic i hope you all enjoyed it ! 💖
I've never fully understood why I feel so strongly in the manner of my death until very early this morning on a call with one of my good friends. I began to tell her how I wish to die, alone in the forest listening to the sound of wind blowing through the trees. Whatever age my death materializes makes no difference to me, as long as I have stayed true to myself, I will accept my end.
As I went on, I began to feel myself get excited at the idea of my body returning to the earth in a way in which the government would be most disappointed. I plan on disappearing, and every time I say it out loud, I'm met with uncomfortable stares and sometimes depending on who I say it to, I gain a lecture about how unfair that would be to my loved ones. Sure, whatever.
Why must people control every aspect of our lives in the name of loving us? I love you so you must... Even my own death wouldn't be mine if I allowed others to have a say in it. So much for final moments! The idea of dying in an institution meant for profit, then being placed in a plastic white bag to be brought down to a metal table, pumped full of chemicals, sounds exhausting.
Not to mention the viewing of my body in the morgue. Following with the wake, where everyone will show up in all black as if no other color exists, and cry as if losing me greatly affects how they wake up and make their coffee in the morning, ridiculous! Then there will be my subsequent burial or cremation, both are shit. Then a tombstone.
My tombstone would read something like Beloved Daughter and Mother. Is that all I amount to in this life, my titles? What about who I was? No, I'll gladly disappear into the woods and take my last moments away from prying eyes, medical supplies, and metal tables. Let my body break down into particles to enmesh with the earth the way it was intended to. Give me one final moment with the earth at the time of my death.
Source: At the Time of my Death
Pair: Xavier x reader
Wc:2k
Includes: Fluff, established relationship
"Stay right there," Xavier says, backing away from you. You turn to him with a confused expression. "No, don't move." With the second command, you grow anxious. If Xavier was this insistent on you staying still, there was most likely a Wanderer nearby. You curse. Today was your day-off so you hadn't brought your weapon with you.
"Xavier," you whisper his name in a worried tone. When he doesn't respond, your eyes scan the park for anything that can be used as a weapon. You hear a click, and your body acts fast. You roll off the trail and grab as many stones as you can carry.
"MC?" Xavier calls out for you. You body shoots up and your arm is reared back.
"Where's the Wanderer?" You ask.
"Wanderer?" Xavier shakes his head. "There's no Wanderer." You look around and notice that the park is still as peaceful as when you entered it. You drop the rocks.
"But...why did you tell me to stop walking?" You ask. Xavier pulls out his phone and shows it to you.
"There was a nice breeze that shook the leaves," He says. "And the sun was shining down on you so nicely, I had to take a picture." You look at the photo Xavier took. It looked better than the photo booths one you would take.
"Xavier, this is...wow," He managed to take a photo of you that, despite looking confused, made it seem as though you were posing professionally.
"I'm glad you like it," He smiles. He begins to scroll through his gallery. "I try to take pictures of you whenever we spend time together." His gallery is filled with pictures of you laughing, concentrating while playing kitty cards, and the claw machine and even aftermaths of your Wanderer fights. Xavier was able to catch the perfect moment of when you landed the last blows in those fights. You looked like an action movie star.
"They're so many photos," you say.
"Yeah. You look so good at everything you do. I wanted to make the moments last forever." Xavier says.
You kiss Xavier's cheek. "You dork." You take out your phone and hold it high above your head. You snap a photo of Xavier's warm smile and blushing face. You show it to Xavier.
"Perfect, now I have a wonderful moment to keep forever."
PLEASE PART 2 ON THE SELF DOUBT ANGEST PUHHHLEEEEEEASE
Pt.1
PAIRING: Love and Deepspace men x reader (reader is implied to be the MC in Caleb's part)
SYNOPSIS: Part 2 of "Self-doubt" - comfort!!
A/N: Finally, it's here. Hope you enjoy!
Finally deciding to go home and drown your sorrows in sleep, you stood, your limbs heavy, your breath unsteady. But before you could take a step, the sound of approaching footsteps stopped you in your tracks.
Soft at first, deliberate, hesitant—yet steady. Familiar.
You didn't have to look up to know who it was.
A quiet sigh left your lips. "Xavier."
He didn’t speak right away, but you could feel him watching you. There was no judgment in his gaze, no demand for explanation. Just patience. A patience that made something fragile inside you crack even more.
Wordlessly, he sat beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, even in the biting chill of the night. Neither of you spoke, and for once, the silence wasn't unbearable. It was different. Softer.
"You scared me," he finally admitted, his voice quieter than usual, as if he was afraid that speaking too loud would shatter whatever fragile state you were in.
You swallowed, your fingers curling into the fabric of your sleeves. "I’m fine."
Xavier hummed, unconvinced. "You’re not. But I’m not here to force you to talk. I just... didn’t want you to be alone."
Something thick lodged itself in your throat at his words. The lump of emotions you'd tried so hard to suppress threatened to spill over.
"Why?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, so raw it almost hurt to speak. "Why do you always—"
"Care?" he finished for you, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, though his eyes remained serious. "Because you matter to me. You always have. And I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I know one thing for certain—you are not some afterthought. You are not unworthy. You are not less."
Your breath hitched, eyes burning. "You don’t understand."
Xavier exhaled, running a hand through his hair, frustrated but not with you—with whatever had made you feel like this. "Then make me understand. If you don’t want to talk, I’ll sit here with you until you do. If you want to pretend everything is fine, I’ll let you. But I’m not leaving."
You turned to him then, really looked at him. At the certainty in his expression, the unwavering belief in his eyes. It was so infuriatingly Xavier—so effortlessly kind, so utterly steadfast—that it made your heart ache in ways you couldn’t put into words.
You opened your mouth, but no excuses came. No lies. No ways to push him away.
Instead, your voice cracked, and before you could stop yourself, you whispered, "I don’t know how to stop feeling like this."
Xavier didn’t hesitate. He reached out, hesitantly at first, as if giving you the choice to pull away. But you didn’t. You let him take your hand, let his warmth seep into your cold fingers, grounding you.
"You don’t have to do it alone," he murmured. "I don’t care how long it takes. Just… don’t shut me out."
The dam inside you broke.
A choked sob tore through you, your body shaking under the weight of everything you had been holding in for far too long. And Xavier—he didn’t flinch, didn’t let go. He simply pulled you close, wrapping you in the kind of embrace that felt less like comfort and more like something solid. Something safe.
You clung to him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as alone as you thought.
And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to be.
His fingers traced slow, soothing circles against your back, his breath warm against your temple. "I don't want you to disappear into the dark. If you let me, I'll stay."
The words, so simple yet so profound, settled into your chest like an ember, slow-burning and tender. You lifted your head, meeting his gaze, and in the hush of the night, something unspoken passed between you—something delicate, something inevitable.
Xavier’s thumb brushed the damp trail of a tear from your cheek, his touch unbearably gentle. "I see you," he murmured, and before you could think, before you could hesitate, he was leaning in.
It was soft, barely there—a whisper of a kiss against your forehead, a silent promise. Not rushed, not demanding, just steady. Just real.
And for the first time, you let yourself believe it.
The city had always been too loud, yet tonight, it felt impossibly quiet. The kind of quiet that pressed against your ribs, heavy and suffocating, filling the spaces between heartbeats with something unnamed and unrelenting. The café door had long since closed behind you, but the ghost of Zayne’s presence still lingered, his voice a phantom echo in your mind.
You walked without direction, only moving because stillness felt too much like surrender. The night air was crisp, laced with the scent of rain that hadn’t yet fallen, and you breathed it in as if it could cleanse the weight of everything left unsaid. But it didn’t. Of course it didn’t.
Your phone remained in your grasp, screen dark, thumb hovering over his name in your messages. A message unsent. A confession you didn’t dare put into words. You had told yourself you would let this go, let him go—but wasn’t that the cruelest kind of lie?
You stopped beneath the glow of a streetlamp, light spilling over you in fragile, golden threads. Your breath wavered, hands tightening around the fabric of your sleeves. And then, against every instinct screaming at you to forget, to move on—you typed.
“I’m sorry.”
It was inadequate. A pitiful offering for the storm that had brewed between you. But before you could backspace, before you could rethink, you pressed send.
The reply came faster than expected.
“I’m still here.”
Three words. Simple. Unwavering. And yet, they shattered something deep inside you.
You closed your eyes, letting the night swallow you whole. You should have walked away. You should have ignored him the way you had trained yourself to. But Zayne had never been someone you could ignore. And perhaps, just this once, you didn’t want to.
With unsteady fingers, you called him.
The line rang once.
Twice.
A third time.
And then—
“Come back inside.”
His voice was quiet, intimate in a way that sent a tremor through your chest. He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t demanding. Just offering. Leaving the choice in your hands, as he always did.
Your throat tightened. Your heart ached.
For a long moment, you said nothing. You listened to the silence stretching between you, to the quiet promise hidden in his words. And then, with a breath that felt too much like surrender, you turned on your heel, retracing your steps back to the light.
When you stepped back inside, the café was quieter than before. The world outside had not changed, and yet, everything within you had shifted. Zayne was still there, waiting, his gaze unreadable but warm. A cup of something hot sat across from his own, waiting for you, as if he had always known you would return.
You sat without a word, hands wrapping around the warmth of the cup. For a moment, there was only the quiet hum of the café, the soft clink of porcelain, the steady presence of him beside you. And then—
“I never wanted to be someone unreachable,” he murmured, his fingers resting just inches from yours on the table. “Not to you.”
Your breath hitched, something fragile pressing against your ribs. “Zayne—”
“I see you,” he said, voice as steady as the earth beneath you. “Not as an afterthought. Not as someone passing through my life.” His gaze flickered to yours, sharp and unwavering. “But as someone I want in it.”
Something deep inside you cracked wide open.
A shuddering exhale left your lips, and before you could stop yourself, your fingers brushed over his—hesitant, uncertain. But when he turned his palm upward, intertwining his fingers with yours, it was effortless. As if he had been waiting for this moment, just as much as you had.
For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight in your chest eased. The walls you had built so carefully, so stubbornly, faltered in the warmth of his touch.
And for once, you let them fall.
The world felt quieter without him in it.
You told yourself it was for the best, that you had made the right decision. And yet, as the days bled into nights, as the hours passed in dull monotony, you found yourself reaching—again and again—for something that was no longer there.
For him.
For the sound of his laughter, for the weight of his presence filling the spaces you hadn’t realized were empty. For the warmth he carried so effortlessly, the kind of warmth that lingered long after he was gone.
But you had done this to yourself.
And now, you had to live with it.
Or at least, you thought you did—until the knocking started.
Soft at first. A hesitant tap against the door, as though testing if you were even home. And then, more insistent. Steady. Patient. Unyielding.
You ignored it, at first. Pressed your hands against your ears and willed it to stop, to go away. But the universe was never that kind.
“Cutie.”
Your breath caught.
Muffled through the door, but unmistakable. His voice—soft, coaxing, laced with something raw beneath the teasing lilt. A plea hidden in a single word.
You curled deeper into yourself, fingers tightening around the blanket you had wrapped around your frame. If you stayed silent, he’d leave. If you waited long enough, he’d realize you weren’t worth it. That you were doing him a favor.
But he didn’t leave.
He sighed, the sound heavy, filled with something you couldn’t quite name. And then—
“I’m not mad at you.”
The words struck harder than you expected. You squeezed your eyes shut, hating the way your heart clenched, the way your resolve wavered like sand beneath the tide.
“I just...” A pause. A shift, as though he had leaned against the door. “I don’t understand.”
You swallowed. You didn’t want him to understand. Didn’t want him to see the ugly, selfish parts of you, the ones that whispered that maybe—just maybe—you wanted him to fight for you. That you wanted to be more than just another passing moment in his life.
“I thought you knew by now.” His voice was quieter, words woven with something impossibly tender. “You don’t have to keep up with me, cutie. You were never supposed to.”
Your throat tightened.
“I just wanted you there.”
Your fingers twitched. Trembled. Your resolve, already fraying at the edges, threatened to unravel completely.
“I don’t care if you don’t want to see me right now,” he continued, and there was something steady in his voice now. Certain. “But don’t think for a second that I don’t see you.”
A shaky breath. Yours, not his. He was always so sure. So steady. A lighthouse in a storm you hadn’t even realized you were lost in.
The silence stretched between you, thick with everything left unsaid. And then, softer—
“I miss you.”
Your hands clenched into the fabric of your sleeves.
A choice.
A breath.
A surrender.
With trembling fingers, you unlocked the door.
The moment it cracked open, he was there.
Rafayel—bigger than life, impossibly beautiful in the dim light of the hallway. But his eyes, sharp as they were, softened the moment they met yours. He looked at you as if you were something precious. Something worth waiting for.
Something he would wait for, as long as it took.
You exhaled, the weight in your chest easing just slightly. And for the first time in days, you let yourself be selfish.
You stepped forward, barely a breath between you, and before you could think better of it, his arms were around you.
The embrace was immediate, crushing in its intensity. His hands found the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he held you tight, as if to assure himself you were real, here, not slipping through his fingers like a dream about to fade.
“Don’t do that again,” he murmured into your hair, voice uneven, raw in a way you had never heard before. “Don’t shut me out.”
Your fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, knuckles white, grounding yourself in the warmth of him.
“Okay,” you whispered, breath hitching when he pulled back just enough to look at you. His hands cradled your face, touch achingly gentle, reverent, as if memorizing the details of you in case you disappeared again.
He searched your face, gaze flickering between your eyes, your lips, before he exhaled sharply, like he had just made a decision. And then—
Soft. Slow.
His lips brushed against yours, a question, a promise, a silent plea. You melted into him, sighing against his mouth, letting yourself be held, letting yourself be wanted.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the night.
“Come inside,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
He smiled, something warm, something yours, and just like that—the world wasn’t so quiet anymore.
The hours slipped by in hazy disarray, the wine glass now empty, the room a blur of half-formed thoughts and aching silence. You could feel the chill of the night seeping deeper into your bones, but it wasn’t the cold air that made you shiver. It was the weight of your own thoughts—the gnawing self-doubt, the quiet loneliness that seemed to stretch out forever, wrapping itself around you like an unwanted lover.
You told yourself to be strong. You told yourself to forget. To move on.
But it was impossible to ignore the echo of his name in your mind, the memory of his touch, the way his eyes had looked at you—so soft, so gentle, like you were something more than just a fleeting shadow in his world. You had convinced yourself that it didn’t matter, that you didn’t matter to him. But now, in the silence of your empty apartment, that lie was unraveling at the edges.
You were not enough for him, and yet you had never wanted anything more.
The sound of your phone vibrating again cut through the haze, and for a moment, you simply stared at the screen. The name flashed once more.
Sylus.
The familiar pang of longing twisted in your chest, a sharp, bitter ache. You didn’t want to open it. Didn’t want to be reminded of everything you couldn’t have. You had closed that door, hadn’t you?
But the phone buzzed again. And then again.
Without thinking, your thumb slid across the screen, the message lighting up the dim room.
"I’m outside."
Your heart stuttered in your chest.
You blinked, the words swimming before your eyes. Your pulse quickened. He was here. And for a moment, you almost convinced yourself to ignore him, to let him be just another chapter you could close. But that wasn’t you, was it? You were never one to run from what you felt, no matter how terrifying it seemed.
The sound of his footsteps echoed against the hallway, distant but unmistakable. The way his boots hit the ground with that gentle weight, as though each step was taken with purpose. You felt the air shift as he drew closer, your skin prickling with the intensity of his presence.
The door knocked softly, almost too softly, as though he was waiting for you to make the first move. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you hesitated.
“Please,” his voice reached you, quieter now, as if spoken through the layers of pain you had wrapped yourself in. “Let me in.”
Your breath caught, and without thinking, you turned the knob.
The door swung open, and there he was.
Sylus.
The light from the hallway cast him in a soft glow, outlining his silhouette in such stark contrast to the darkness behind you. His eyes—those eyes, the ones that could see straight through every defense you put up—were soft. Warm, even. There was an urgency to his gaze, but also a tenderness, as if he was afraid to touch you too suddenly, afraid to break the fragile moment that existed between you.
“I couldn’t leave,” he murmured, and his voice cracked just the slightest bit as he spoke, his own emotions laid bare.
Your heart ached at the sight of him, standing there, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen before. The man who had once seemed so untouchable, so unreachable, now seemed almost fragile in his need for you.
“You don’t have to do this,” you whispered, voice shaking.
But he stepped forward anyway, and in that moment, everything shifted. His hands were warm when they cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the traces of tears you hadn’t even realized you were still holding back.
“I do,” he said, his voice low and firm, yet undeniably soft. “I do, because I’ve never needed anyone the way I need you.”
And with those words, your world fell away.
Without another word, he pulled you into him, his embrace fierce yet gentle, as though he was afraid you would slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough. His scent enveloped you, familiar and grounding, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to sink into it. You let yourself surrender to the warmth of his arms, the only place that felt like home anymore.
“I was so afraid,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. “So afraid of being nothing to you.”
His fingers threaded through your hair, and he pressed his lips against the top of your head, the softest kiss, a promise more than a gesture.
“You were never nothing to me,” he whispered. “You were never a fleeting thing. I just... I didn’t know how to show you, not when I was so terrified of losing myself in you.”
You pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, the depth of his words reflected in the dark pools of his eyes. For the first time, you saw it—the same raw vulnerability, the same fear of not being enough that you had harbored so deep inside.
And in that moment, it no longer mattered who was enough or not enough. All that mattered was that he was here. And so were you.
You kissed him then—softly, slowly, as if testing whether the world would allow such a moment of peace to exist. But his lips were insistent, and soon enough, the kiss deepened, your worries melting away with each touch, each press of his body against yours. The weight of your doubts lifted, replaced by something far more comforting, far more real.
In his arms, you were not lost. You were not a fleeting moment. You were everything.
And as the night wrapped itself around you both, the air no longer felt cold. It felt warm. It felt like home.
It was almost absurd, how you could feel so much for someone, and yet, never have them see it. Caleb, your constant. The one who would always be there to crack a joke, to make you laugh when the world felt heavy. But as time passed, it became harder to pretend. Pretend that the ache in your chest was just something you could ignore, pretend that you could be content with the role of the background character, the one who never got the spotlight.
You stared at the ceiling, the dim glow of your phone still lingering in the darkness, his name burning through the cold night. You were so tired of pretending, tired of holding everything inside, locking it away like some precious treasure only you could see. But it was suffocating you, this secret love, this thing you never asked for but couldn’t escape.
The steady buzz of your phone in your hand felt like a pulse, like a lifeline, but also like a reminder of everything you couldn’t have. It hurt too much to answer. It always did. Because with Caleb, every conversation felt like an act of theater, a performance where you smiled and pretended to be happy, to be fine, when the truth was you were drowning. Drowning in a love that never had a chance to be returned, that was never meant to be returned.
Another message lit up the screen, and your chest tightened. "Pipsqueak, please answer me. I’m worried."
Worried. His words rang in your ears, his concern always just enough to make you feel seen, but never enough to pull you from the depths of your own feelings. You wanted to scream at him. To ask him why, after all this time, he still didn’t see you. Why couldn’t he see what was right in front of him?
But you couldn’t. Because if you did, you would break. And breaking meant losing him entirely. It meant letting go of the one piece of your life that was still solid, the one thing that still anchored you to the world.
With a trembling hand, you turned the phone face down on your nightstand, the silence between you now absolute. The emptiness felt suffocating, but you couldn’t take back what you had already done. You had locked him out, not just from the room, but from your heart. And maybe that was the best thing for both of you.
But as the hours passed, the weight of that decision grew heavier, until it felt unbearable.
Your phone buzzed again. It was him, and this time, you didn’t hesitate.
You picked it up, feeling that familiar pang of hope and fear coil in your chest. There was no turning back now. He was calling, and you—well, you couldn’t run anymore.
“Hey,” you whispered, almost too quietly. The sound of your voice was fragile, like it might shatter if you said too much.
“Y/N, you okay?” Caleb’s voice came through, low and concerned, but there was something more to it this time. Something you hadn’t noticed before—the way his voice lingered, the way it softened when he spoke your name.
“Yeah, just tired,” you replied, forcing a smile into your tone. It wasn’t enough to mask the sadness, but it would have to do.
There was a pause on the other end, and then he sighed. “You’re lying.”
You let out a small, bitter laugh. "Am I?"
“Yes,” he said simply. “I know you better than that.”
And for the first time, you felt the walls you’d carefully built between you begin to crack. Caleb, as oblivious as he was, somehow always knew when you were hiding something. It was frustrating, maddening even, but in that moment, you couldn’t deny it. His understanding of you, his ability to see through your armor, made everything feel even more impossible.
“I’m fine,” you said again, but it was weaker this time. "I just… I need some space, Caleb. It’s nothing. Really."
His voice softened, as though he could sense the lie even through the phone. “I don’t believe you.”
You were silent for a long moment, the weight of the conversation pressing in on you. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you had to say, but the words felt tangled in your throat.
“Caleb,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “I just—sometimes, I feel like I’m invisible to you. Like no matter how much I try to be there, it’s never enough.”
And there it was. The truth. The raw, aching truth that you had buried for so long.
You waited for him to speak, to laugh, to dismiss your feelings as something trivial. But instead, there was a silence so thick it felt suffocating.
And then, in the quiet, he finally spoke.
“I never meant to make you feel that way,” Caleb said, his voice unusually quiet, the usual teasing lilt replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. “I… I never saw it like that. But I should have. I should’ve seen how much you’ve always been there. How much I’ve taken you for granted.”
You swallowed, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. You didn’t know how to respond. You didn’t know if you even could.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he continued, and there was something in his voice now that made your heart ache. “You’re not invisible to me, pips. You’ve never been.”
And in that moment, you allowed yourself to believe him, just for a little while.
You didn’t know what would happen next, what this would all mean, but for once, it didn’t matter. Caleb had seen you. Really seen you. And that was enough to keep you holding on.
“I’m here,” you whispered. “Always.”
And in the space between those words, something shifted, like the universe itself exhaled, allowing you both to breathe again.
The night is still young... and here i am sitting and rethinking everything ... i love xavier... and like him before i even played the game and i couldn't pin point exactly what drew me to him the most .. even after sylus and caleb came out ... i am loyal to this man ... a bit too much
And now i can play the game and ya .. just..
It is very well written about his characteristics and his personality and i do know and have seen to tumblr how people mischaracterize him ..
Well.. after everything .. the man underneath all the mask is who i resonate and relate to and love as well.. even if he is a game character .. he bring comfort and joy to me and lightens up my day even if by 10 per cent ..
I would say.. this man is also an introvert and doesnt really like talking about himself therefore ..
The original person whose writing i am reblogging
Hats off in trying to understand him and put it so beautifully in words ...
Enjoy my rant about this man
As much as I also laugh and joke about Xavier being jealous of Lumiere, I also absolutely get it. So be prepared because I have THOUGHTS.
✨ In defense of Xavier ✨
I cannot speak for all his jealousy, but I can speak on my own interpretation. Unfortunately, since I joined in October, I completely missed his Lumiere myth. I also don’t want to spoil myself too much in case I get the rerun, so some of this is just my own interpretation based on his character.
But I don’t think Xavier is explicitly jealous of *himself,* guys. I think when he asks “Who do you like more, me or Lumiere?” He’s not asking it literally. He is asking the main character, he is asking us as the player, “Do you like me or do you like the mask I wear?”
Now, I’m biased. I actually wrote a drabble on this concept for Victoria with her first (and still canon!) love interest from Ninjago, Lloyd. There’s some character parallels here I won’t go into detail with. But that was a topic the two had to navigate at first. Being the object of so many peoples’ affections while in an alter ego can absolutely raise a lot of questions. And in this example, Lloyd was wondering if Victoria was in love with the persona he has to put up for public perception, or the person he truly was. Of course Victoria loved him for him, not for the mask.
I think Xavier is doing the same here.
Xavier is a crown prince. He’s a vigilante. He’s a hero. But at the end of the day he is XAVIER. He’s gone through so many jobs, so many roles, he’s worn down many different masks. Someone falling in love with the mask is the last thing he wants. I was discussing this with my therapist the other day, that’s something that drew me to both Rafayel and Xavier.
They both have masks, literal and figurative, that they hide behind. Falling in love with the mask does nothing. It’s the person underneath that’s more important. It’s why Rafayel asks “Will you still love me, no matter who I become?” It’s why Xavier asks who the main character prefers, him or Lumiere. It speaks to my own life as someone placed on a pedestal, constantly wearing a mask of perfection and untouchability. It irritates me when people claim to have feelings for me when they haven’t found the person behind the mask. It shows they’ve fallen in love with an idea of me, not with who I am as a person.
I’ll gladly make jokes about his own jealousy too, but there’s a lot more to it. It frustrates me to see all of the love interests mischaracterized or even outright demonized.
So, in defense of Xavier, when he asks if you like him or Lumiere more, keep in mind.
Are you in love with the man, or the mask?
⋆˚࿔ the best pillow 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
-the LaDS men cuddling with you and laying their heads on your lap (fluff)
୨ৎ── . Sylus
The living room was peaceful, bathed in the soft golden glow of the late afternoon sun. Sylus lay stretched out on the couch, his head resting on your lap, while a book was placed in his large hands. His white hair fell messily over his forehead, as his red eyes scanned the pages with sharp focus.
The low hum of music played from the speaker across the room, a slow, soulful tune drifting through the air.
You absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair, scrolling through your phone, when you glanced down at him. “Hey, can I connect my phone to the speaker?”
Sylus didn’t look up from his book. “No.”
You blinked. “No?”
A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Listen and appreciate real good music, sweetie.”
You rolled your eyes, sighing dramatically. “You sound like an old man.” The comment made him smirk, but he didn’t respond, his eyes still on his book.
A slow, mischievous smile spread across your lips.
Sliding your fingers beneath the frame of his glasses, you gently pushed them down just enough to reveal his striking red eyes. Before he could protest, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss between his eyebrows, right at the root of his nose.
Feeling his body tense ever so slightly, you knew your 'attack' was effective. Bingo.
Sylus inhaled through his nose, his grip on the book tightening just a fraction. "I'm trying to read, kitten." he murmured, his voice as smooth as ever.
But you saw the way his ears tinged just the faintest bit red, the way his fingers twitched against the page.
A giggle escaped you and you felt him exhale, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
Sylus shifted, pretending to be unaffected as he grabbed his phone to check what song was playing.
That’s when you saw it. Your gaze flickered to the screen and your teasing smile softened. The playlist title was clear as day.
“Songs That Remind Me of Y/N”
When Sylus noticed where you were looking, his thumb casually covered the screen, as if that would make you unsee it.
You grinned, warmth spreading through your chest. “You big softie.”
He scoffed but didn’t deny it. Instead, he flipped the page of his book, still looking entirely unfazed. But as you glanced down at him, you caught it—the barely-there smile playing at his lips.
Sylus’ free hand moved from your tight to intertwine with your own hand, before bringing it to his lips and plant a soft kiss on your knuckles.
୨ৎ── . Zayne
The clock struck midnight as Zayne stepped into the apartment, exhaustion weighing heavy on his broad shoulders. His dark hair was slightly disheveled from running his hands through it all day, and his sharp green eyes, usually so intense, were dulled with fatigue. But despite the ache in his muscles and the relentless pull of sleep, he made his way to the living room—because he had made a promise.
And Zayne never broke a promise to you.
You were sitting on the couch, papers spread out around the couch and the coffee table, biting your bottom lip in concentration. At the sound of his quiet footsteps, you looked up.
"You're home," you murmured, a mixture of relief and concern in your voice. "Zayne, you look exhausted."
"I'm fine," he said softly, his voice gentle despite the obvious tiredness in his tone. "Let’s get this done."
You sighed, but didn’t argue as he settled beside you, his broad frame sinking into the cushions. He leaned slightly toward you, your shoulders brushing as he picked up a form and started filling it out with his precise handwriting.
Minutes passed in comfortable silence. But with each passing moment, Zayne's pen moved slower, his eyes blinking sluggishly as he fought the exhaustion clawing at him.
Then, without warning, his head dipped forward before he caught himself.
You turned to him, your lips pressing together in fond exasperation. "Zayne…"
"I'm awake," he murmured, but his deep voice was quieter now, softer, laced with drowsiness.
Another few moments passed, and then—he slumped.
His head rested against your shoulder at first, his body leaning heavily into yours, before he finally slid down, laying his head on your lap with a deep exhale. His dark lashes fluttered once before his breathing evened out, the exhaustion finally winning.
You glanced down at him, your expression softening. Even in sleep, he looked serious, but there was a rare peace on his face that made her heart ache.
Gently, you adjusted his position, letting his head rest more comfortably on your lap. You ran your fingers through his black hair, smoothing it back, with a featherlight touch.
With a small smile, you picked up your pen again and continued working in silence, letting him recharge. After a while, you feel a big hand gently squeezing your leg. “You’re such a nice pillow, you know that?”
Zayne looks up at you with only one eye open and a tired but fond smile on his lips.
“Look who woke up! Hi sleepy head.” you tease him, caressing his cheek gently. “I’m almost over with these papers.”
He nodded as a small yawn escaped his lips. “I’m sorry, next time I’ll be more helpful.” he whispered softly before falling asleep on you once again.
୨ৎ── . Rafayel
Rafayel stretched out across the bed, his head resting on your lap, his eyes half-lidded with contentment. The soft fabric of your sweater brushed against his cheek as he exhaled slowly, savoring the warmth of your presence. But something was missing.
Your fingers weren’t running through his hair. You weren’t teasing him with a sly remark. You weren’t paying attention to him at all.
Instead, you were glued to your phone, your delicate fingers tapping away at the screen. Occasionally, you let out a quiet chuckle, further fueling his mild irritation.
Rafayel pouted. "Babe." No response.
He shifted slightly, pressing his forehead against your lap. "Baaaabe."
Still nothing.
A smirk curled at the edge of his lips as an idea formed. He nuzzled against you, his breath warm against your skin. Then, he let out the most dramatic sigh he could muster, his broad shoulders rising and falling with exaggerated defeat.
"Are you really going to ignore your very handsome, very lovely boyfriend, who just wants a little attention?" his voice was laced with playful desperation.
You hummed absently, still not looking up. "Mhm. Sounds tragic."
Rafayel gasped, clutching his chest as if you had mortally wounded him. "Tragic?! This is abuse, beloved. I'm starving for affection."
You snorted, shifting your head the slightest to peer down at him.
“Put your phone down..” he murmured, drawing patterns on your thighs with his fingers.
He was pouting, so you followed his instructions. “Yes?”
A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “Hi gorgeous.” he smirks, as you grab his pretty face between your hands.
“You really become a brat if I don’t give you attention for five minutes, don’t you?” you chuckle, brushing your thumbs along his cheekbones.
A pleased rumble vibrated from his chest as he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.
"Yes," Rafayel declared, looking up at you with the biggest, most pitiful puppy-dog eyes his irises could manage. "Because my beautiful, sarcastic, heartless partner is ignoring me."
You bit your lip, trying—and failing—to suppress a laugh. "You are so dramatic."
"And yet you love me," he shot back, smirking before going back to leaving pecks on her legs.
You feign a sigh, when you feel him playfully biting your skin.
“Ouch!” you immediately half-heartedly slap his forehead, while he laughs amused by his actions.
“Stop it or I’m gonna crush your skull.” you playfully glare at him, but he just shrugs.
“A nice way to leave this world, not gonna lie.”
He proceeded to nibble her thigh again, so you squeeze his head between your legs, chuckling.
“Now beg.” you challenge him, raising one eyebrow. But he simply cackled, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your thigh. "You really think I’m gonna complain about this?"
୨ৎ── . Xavier
The door clicked shut softly and Xavier stepped inside, his frame carrying an air of quiet exhaustion. His light-colored hair was slightly tousled, his big blue eyes dimmer than usual, lost in some distant thought. He didn’t say a word.
You knew this version of him well. The one that withdrew into silence when something weighed on his mind. He was lost in his own thoughts, tangled up in emotions he didn’t know how to put into words.
So you didn’t ask. Didn’t press. Instead, you took his hand, gently tugging him toward the bed. Xavier hesitated for a second before letting you guide him, his shoulders relaxing just a little under your touch. You pulled him down until he was lying on top of you, his head resting against your lap as you softly ran your hands through his hair.
With a small smile, you let your fingers drift from his hair down to his back, as you began tracing invisible shapes against the fabric of his shirt. At first, you just doodled—little swirls, hearts, nonsense patterns—letting him feel your presence without forcing him to talk.
Then, slowly, you spelled out the words.
I love you.
A heartbeat passed. Then another. You felt his breath hitch ever so slightly, his tense shoulders easing as if a weight had been lifted. So you kept going, tracing a small heart at the end.
Xavier shifted, turning his head just enough so he could glance up at you, his deep blue eyes no longer clouded. A soft, almost bashful smile ghosted his lips. Then, without warning, he rolled over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer in a way that was both shy and desperate.
His face was buried against your neck now, and you could feel his breath warm against your skin. Finally, he spoke—his voice quiet, but steady.
"…Again," he murmured.
You blinked. "Again?"
He nodded against you, his grip tightening slightly. A soft laugh escaped your lips before you resumed your gentle tracing of sweet nothings and hearts.
୨ৎ── . Caleb
Caleb sighed dramatically as he rested his back against the couch, his broad frame comfortably settled between your legs on the plush carpet. Your fingers worked gently through his thick brown hair, separating strands to weave into intricate braids. Every now and then, you’d clip a tiny butterfly or flower pin into place, giggling to yourself at how utterly adorable he looked.
He loved this. The feeling of your hands in his hair, your presence surrounding him. But there was one small problem.
He couldn't sit still.
His hands roamed absentmindedly, his fingers lightly tracing over the soft skin of your thighs. The warmth of your legs bracketing him was too tempting to ignore. Without thinking, he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her knee, then another, higher this time.
You huffed, tightening your grip on his hair just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to warn him. "Caleb. Stop moving."
He grinned. "But you're so soft" he murmured against your skin, his lips brushing along the inside of your thigh now. "How am I supposed to resist?"
You rolled your eyes, though he couldn’t see it. "You're not supposed to try to resist. You're supposed to sit still and let me finish your hair."
Caleb chuckled, but he didn’t stop. His hands squeezed your legs gently, thumbs stroking the inside of your thighs in slow, teasing circles. "M’sorry, baby," he muttered, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. "You're just really distracting."
"I’m distracting?" You scoffed. "You’re the one squirming like a hyperactive puppy while I’m trying to make you pretty."
"Hm..pretty, huh?" He smirked, tilting his head back against your stomach, his striking purple eyes gazing up at you. "Does that mean you're finally admitting you like playing with my hair?"
You flicked his forehead, making him laugh. "I've always liked playing with your hair. I just don't like when you make it impossible to finish."
"Okay, okay." Caleb raised his hands in surrender. "I'll behave."
"Good." You started braiding again, your fingers moving deftly through his locks. For about ten seconds, he actually sat still. Then his lips ghosted over your thigh once more, this time leaving a soft bite.
"Caleb!" He burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking with amusement. "I tried to behave, I really did," he said between chuckles. But then he finally stopped moving around and let you finish your masterpiece. “Wanna grab something to eat later?”
“But it took me so long to make these braids.” you pout slightly, already sad at the idea of having to remove all the cute clips from his hair.
“Who said I’m gonna take them out? Everyone needs to see what an amazing job you did!”
A RANT
I just realized something as i am on tumblr and on insta. .. it physically hurts me that i can't reblog LADS fic or art or comic ... any content on lads on instagram ..... 🙂🙂🙂 and here
I have become so confident and shameless at this point ..... its concerning 😆😆
Cuz at first i was afraid and scared to either reblog write or comment on any fic but then i realized
~ Wait .... they r writers and readers tooo.. and as a writer and reader i would love if anyone commented or liked or reblogged ny works.. so whats stopping me
So
Yes
Thats my rant
Thank you for coming to my rant 😉🤣😆😂😂
And be prepared for me to find posts and comment on them ... 🤪🤪
Rule: 10💖= 1🐰 added
loyal to my man ~Xavier .... Life is delulu at this point and other fixations
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