Can You...

I have the feeling that Xavier, Caleb and Sylus would be so into a chubby!mc/reader. I just KNOW it. Nothing's gonna change my mind about it 🤺🤺🤺

Xavier would be on the top of the list like, take a look at this dude, my boy needs some softness in his life. He's the type to be all over you all the time (not only in a sexual way), always hugging you or having an arm around or just touching you, he just adores how soft you are. When you guys have those rare days off, he spent most of the time with you, he absolutely adores when you let him lay his head on your lap as you play with his hair.

Caleb is a tease, he still respects most of your boundaries and knows there are things that is better not to mention, but that doesn't stop him from messing with his little and pretty pipsqueak. Caleb is touchy, both innocent and not so innocent ways. He likes to have a hand resting on your thighs and give a gentle squeeze, he likes the sensation of your soft skin beneath his touch. Whenever you're starting to get on his nerves or you start zoning out he tends to give a small pinch on you tummy (that bastard) because he knows that would get you back to the earth almost immediately. During winter, Caleb hands always find their way to rest between your thighs under the excuse of being too cold and that you are his perfect "warmer".

Oh, and he likes to leave marks... a lot of marks.

Sylus ....oh my beautiful Sylus. My mean would be so head over heels...

Sylus has seen a lot of beautiful things in his lifetime(s), jewelry, dresses, ornaments, man and woman by equal yet in his eyes, none of them were even close to you. For him you are the very personification of what a goddess should look like. He adores everything related to you, chubby cheeks, thick thighs, tummy rolls, you name it, he adores every inch of you and nothing would ever change that. He's a body worshiper by nature, you might think he wouldn't do such a thing with that personality and looks, but you're the only one who gets to see that side of him, to have him completely on his knees as he kiss his way up your body to your lips, whispering sweet words with every touch of his lips against your skin. Sylus adores to show you off, let everyone know he has the most beautiful and perfect person by his side, and they can only watch from afar. Since he knows that stores don't sell exactly "cute" clothes for chubby/plus size people, he takes matters into his own hands contacting one, if not, the best designer he could find to make all the pretty clothes you show him, in your size and even personalized if you want to. Oh and if the person refuses or ever tries to disrespect you....well, we all know what is going to happen to that poor unfortunate soul.

(i definitely don't have a favorite and I'm definitely not delusional)

Headcanon -

Barista Caleb takes your order

Details: dokidoki fluffy coffee caleb, maybe he adds apple juice and a squeeze of lemon? 700ish words.

“Morning,” he says, a slow, easy grin tugging at his lips as he leans against the counter. His voice is smooth, low, but carries just enough amusement to make you feel like he’s been waiting all morning for someone interesting to talk to. “First time here?”

You blink, thrown for a second, before shaking your head. “Uh—no, I’ve been here before. Just… not with you taking my order.”

“Ah,” he hums, like this is important information. “Well, in that case, I’ll have to make sure your experience today is exceptional. What can I get for you?”

It’s almost unfair, how casual he is about it. You manage to give him your order, your voice steadier than you expect, but the moment he nods and writes your name on the cup, you realize you might be in trouble.

Because he is breathtaking.

Not just in a pretty-boy, “oh, he’s attractive” kind of way. No, it’s the way he moves—fluid, self-assured, a quiet kind of charisma that doesn’t demand attention but holds it anyway. His apron is tied perfectly at his waist, snug but comfortable, emphasizing his lean build. He works with an effortless grace, hands moving with quick, precise motions as he sets up your drink like he’s been doing it all his life.

And then there’s the new barista.

You notice them standing beside him, apron still a little too crisp, movements stiff with nerves. He notices too.

“Hey, you good?” he asks, his tone light, but genuinely concerned.

The newbie nods, but hesitantly. He watches them for half a second, then gestures toward your order.

“Wanna make this one?”

They freeze. “Uh—me?”

“Yeah, you,” he grins, nodding toward the espresso machine. “C’mon, it’s just one drink. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“…I mess it up?”

“That’s the spirit,” he teases, nudging them lightly with his elbow. “But seriously, don’t worry. I’ll walk you through it.”

You watch as the newbie hesitantly steps up, hands fumbling with the portafilter. He lets them struggle for a second before stepping in behind them, close enough that his voice drops slightly, quiet and patient.

“Here, let me help.”

And then he does something devastating.

He reaches out, his hands brushing over theirs as he adjusts their grip, fingers steady and sure. “You wanna lock it in like this. Feel that little click? That means it’s in place.”

The newbie nods, but their breath catches slightly, and—yeah, okay, you can’t blame them. He is warm, too close, and entirely too unaware of how unfair it is to exist like this.

“Good,” he says, pulling back just enough to give them space. “Now, hit that button—yeah, that one. You got it.”

You swear you see the newbie swallow hard, cheeks dusted pink. He doesn’t comment on it—maybe he’s too focused on the drink, or maybe he’s just used to this.

Because you are feeling the exact same thing.

The drink comes together eventually, and the newbie looks both relieved and still slightly dazed. He claps them on the shoulder, offering a quick, reassuring grin.

“See? Not so bad,” he says. “Next time, I’m letting you handle it without the assist.”

They make a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a nervous gulp.

And then, finally, he turns back to you.

He picks up your cup, spinning it slightly between his fingers before sliding it across the counter toward you.

“Here you go,” he says, his voice just a little softer now, a little more directed at you. “Hope you like it.” And then, after a pause, his smirk deepens.

“If not… guess you’ll just have to come back so I can make it up to you.”

Your fingers tighten around the cup, heat creeping up your neck. Your brain offers you several possible responses—flirty, cool, clever—and you say none of them.

Because all you can think about is how easy it would be to just ask. His number. His shift schedule. Anything that would let you turn this brief interaction into something more.

But the words sit heavy on your tongue, unspoken.

You just nod. And walk away.

And as you take your first sip, the new barista catches your gaze, their expression a perfect mirror of yours—slightly dazed, a little overwhelmed, and absolutely thinking the same thing.

This isn’t just a barista.

This is a problem.

And then you glance at the counter one last time, at the name tag pinned neatly to his apron.

Caleb.

—————————————————————————-

There’s more barista Caleb! Check my masterlist 🫶🏻

Pairing: Xavier x mc

Cw: angst, mentions of captive bird, spoilers for Caleb’s story, threats of violence, Xavier being protective, use of nickname Starlight, comfort, probably other stuff

A/n: I love Xavier so much, I just finished the Caleb story and the entire time I kept thinking that Xavier and Sylus would never do that. Zayne probs too but he’s not my favourite. Anywho, enjoy the Xavier fic, might write one about Sylus soon.

——————

Xavier’s knee bounced. Up and down and up and down and up and down. His heart raced, faster and faster. Whether it be nerves or anxiety, he wasn’t sure. Maybe both. He hadn’t seen you for a week, the last he had heard from you was that you were going to Skyhaven for a mission and you would be back. That’s it. No other communication, nothing from Jenna, Tara had no clue where you were, and Simone wouldn’t spill.

Over the past week, he had barely been able to sleep, he was so worried. After hearing about the explosion by the overpass, his anxiety spiraled further at the thought of you getting hurt. He knew you could handle yourself, his trust in you was beyond words, beyond measure even. He had seen you in countless fights, had seen you take down coutless wanderers, but he was always by your side. He was there to step in if you ever got hurt, and that’s where his anxiety stemmed from. He needed you by his side, not for your own sake, but for his.

He on his couch, waiting for something. Today was supposed to be the day you were to come home. He also knew Skyhaven was hard for you, after all, your childhood best friend had lived there. His heart tinged a bit, some jealousy creeping up through the anxiety. He pushed it aside for now, he had bigger things to focus on than his petty jealousy. His phone dinged, a light melody that he only used for you. He picked it up immediately and checked the text.

“I’m back.”

“R U home?” His breath quickened, he needed to see you.

“Yes.”

“Can I come see U?”

“Please”

He stood up. He grabbed his wallet, the book he had been reading, and the two new stuffies had caught at the arcade while you were away. He still needed his teacher with him, even after his near fifty tries a day, he only caught the two. He teleported to your front door. He needed to see you as soon as possible. He needed to be close to you, and hear your voice, and be in your presence.

He knocked three times, and unlocked the door. He called out your name and saw you by your windowsill, look out at the sky, with a solemn look on your face. You looked over at him, and a small smile grew. He knew something was off. Your emotions were always easy for him to read, you never put any effort into hiding them when he was around. He put down your stuffies on the couch, along with his book and approached you.

“How was your trip?” He stood next to you, trying to be a calm and comforting presence. Someone you could lean on. And you did, you leaned into his side a little and look into his soft blue eyes. You felt safe beside him. You felt a lump form at the back of your throat, and felt your eyes sting a little as you tried to hold back your tears.

“It was rough,” you managed to get out. A singular tear fell, and he noticed it immediately. He wasn’t sure what to do. He felt the panic creep up his throat, his eyes widened and he reached out to wipe it away.

“What happened?” His voice was measured and hardened. Ready to go after whatever had caused your pain. To stop whoever had hurt you. To protect you.

“Caleb… is alive.” More tears fell, your complicated emotions were clear on your face. Anger, fear, some resentment, longing, and pain. Xavier knew all of those well. He also knew what this would mean for you. Your childhood best friend, the one you had mourned, the one you had cried yourself to sleep over, was alive.

“What?”

“He was alive this whole time Xavier, and he’s involved with Ever. And he…” you trailed off. Xavier’s eyes quickly examined your face, and he knew something else had happened. He was not going to push, he was going to wait until you told him yourself. He, however, was more than ready to kill the bastard again if it meant keeping you safe.

“What did he do to you?” His voice, was comforting to you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck and let the tears flow. He held you tightly, unwilling to let you go. He didn’t experience what you experienced, he knew something had happened. He did not want to let you go through it alone.

“He drugged me with cold medicine. He trapped me in his house… he isn’t the same person I grew up with. He’s not my Caleb…” he stilled at that. His anger grew. You could feel a shift in Xavier’s demeanour, unlike with Caleb, you weren’t scared. You knew Xavier like the back of your hand, you had spent so much time with him. You know him now like you used to know Caleb. You held on tighter to Xavier, afraid that if you let him go, he would become a different person too. That you would loose him. Xavier’s hold tightened exponentially, and he was ready to go, to hurt Caleb. Put him back into the ground because, what he did to you, the pain he had caused you is not okay. None of it was okay. Anyone who caused you pain, regardless of it being your childhood best friend, did not deserve to be in your presence ever again, breathe the same air as you, be near you. Xavier would expect the same if he ever did that to you.

“He… did what?” He managed to ground out, through his clenched teeth, and his arms clutched you closer.

“He wanted to protect me, he said…” you sobbed out.

“Oh Starlight,” he tried to pull away a little but you wouldn’t let him. You didn’t want to see the pity on his face. “Hurting you like that isn’t protection.”

You nodded into his neck. He let go of you briefly a grabbed your legs to wrap them around his waist. He picked you and walked over to the couch. Beside the stuffies and all. Regardless of how he felt in the moment, the anger brewing under his skin making him feel like a restless animal, he knew you needed him more.

When he tried to pull away to see your face you let out another sob and clutched further. “Please don’t leave me Xavier.”

He huffed at that, and finally forced your face away from his neck. He placed his forehead against yours. Your bleary eyes stared back into his, deep sorrow and anger sketched into his features. There was no hint of pity. Your relief washed over you.

“I would never, in a million years leave you. You are the only one for me in the entire cosmos. I will always be by your side,” he cradled you close. “Can I kiss you?” He muttered so softly you almost missed it. You nodded.

He pressed his lips softly against yours. It was nice and peaceful, his touch was gentle. He pulled back, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You sighed and leaned your head against his chest. He swayed you back and forth. When your breathing evened out, his suppressed anger came to the forefront. A man was about to die. Xavier was going to kill the man a second time, the man who dared to hurt you.

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

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

"Okay, come here, then."

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

"You want me to sit on you?"

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

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

"Once upon a time–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 wonder if even after Odysseus returns, Telemachus still wakes up in a cold sweat some nights and goes to pace in front of his mother’s door. There’s light and loud talking and laughing and Telemachus grips his sword tightly, tense as he knows he can’t let anyone near.

The door opens and Telemachus jolts, turning to see a man standing in the doorway behind him. He lunges forward, but the man grabs his wrist and shoulder, disarming him and bringing him to the ground. He closes his eyes, bracing himself and feeling a burn in his throat. He failed. He can’t protect her. He-

Suddenly there are gentle hands on his face. A soothing voice replacing the cacophony that the prince realizes had never existed. He looks into his father’s eyes with shame, blinking back tears as the king gently takes him into his arms. Odysseus promises his son that he’s safe, brings him back to rest beside him and Penelope, and lets him have just a few hours of peace before it happens again.

Just thoughts.

Eury working his way up from poverty to become Odys second in command and wooing Ctimene is my roman empire all over again

Summary: Xavier has a nightmare that disturbs both of you (1.5k words, angst (flangst maybe?) Xavier x gn!Reader

a/n: i've read this too many times now to be happy with it lol so here we go! and it's the first piece over 600 words i've actually published in nearly 4 years! yay! (please help me out with a title lol)

"Xav!" your whisper is harsher than intended and edged with frustration. It's difficult to make the vowels and consonants of his name softer when you've spent the last forty minutes trying to rouse him.

You wriggle slightly in an attempt to stretch your back and hips without disturbing him too much as he lays in your lap. Your back has started to ache and it's too dark now to comfortably read the text on the page in front of you. Xavier's book rests open on his chest like an injured bird, rising and falling with his breaths. You want to stand, get a glass of water and turn on the lamp behind you at least, but Xavier is slumbering too deeply to react at all.

You'd tried every tick in the book once you'd established he was actually sound asleep - it's a rare thing for him to let his guard down so completely. Even in the comfort of your own homes, Xavier was always just below the tide of consciousness- alert enough to bolt if necessary but relaxed enough to recharge like a fox napping in the midsummer sun. Disarming. Charming. Dangerous.

You'd jostled him gently, then a bit rougher. Cooed every variation of his name and nicknames. You'd even played dirty - pretending to both phone for a takeaway hot pot and to invite Caleb round to share it. Neither strategy had worked and Xavier's expression remained smooth and his breathing even.

"Xavier," you try again, one last time sweet and sing-song like a dawn chorus. You think it's working as his chest stutters on the inhale and his eyelids flicker. But it doesn't. His expression darkens instead ike an oncoming storm - brows pulling together, lips turning down and his hands start to twitch, the tendons coiling and flexing. A frown pulls at your own lips, concern begining to thread through your irritation. Xavier doesn't dream - or so he tells you - and he certainly doesn't get nightmares.

He starts mumbling then, half sentences and misfired words sounding vaguely like 'go' and 'leave'. You've never known him to talk in his sleep, let alone start thrashing. The spasms in his fingers have escalated to full body twitching, thighs tensing and untensing, fists white-knuckling. His chest rises and falls far quicker than it had been less than two minutes ago, verging on hyperventilation. Your own heart starts hammering.

The room is blanketed in a rich navy as blue hour nears its end. Xavier's features, like the finer details of the room, are lost in the murk. You call his name again, trying to suppress the panic creeping through you as his calls grow stronger, expression sterner and sentences more coherent.

You lean forward slightly, to look down over him. Xavier's face distorts, closed eyes narrowning, teeth bared at the nightmare - at you.

You push your hands gently but firmly into his shoulders,as you had done half an hour earlier. An attempt to ground him - bring him back to the land of the living. Your own heartbeat continues to rise and your breath quickens, nearly mirroring the heaving of his chest. Short, sharp inhales and incomplete exhales. Lungs never fully empty nor full in the strange, overwhleming confusion anxiety brings.

You're releived it's his upper torso on you lap and not his legs which are now flailing wildly, kicking visciously. The book on his chest falls to the carpet with a thump, white pages splayed and bent like broken wings. Your hold doesn't work instead it makes him writhe more, voice raising and the words becoming clearer, more commanding pleas. You think you hear a "don't leave me" over the rush of blood in your ears.

Desperation tightens its grip. You just want him to wake up.

Your instincts are fraying.

Something is telling you to shove him off you and run. Run far and quick away from here, away from Xavier and don't look back.

You let go of his shoulders and bring your shaking hands to his face. Cupping it gently and brushing hair back off his forehead, damp with perspiration. It's Xavier, he wouldn't hurt you - consciously or not, you reason. Something primal whispers doubt into your heart.

There's light pooling in Xavier's hands.

Blood drains from your face and your stomach plummets. He's seconds away from drawing his blade.

Wouldn't he? it purrs again.

"Xavier!" you say once more, voice high and thin. You push into his shoulders with enough force to bruise th eimprint of his shoulder blades into the flesh of your thighs.

It works.

He shoots upwards, cresting the wave of wakefulness. You jerk away as he reaches, unseeing into darkness behind your head, bellowing -

"Don't!"

- and the room burns.

Bright, blinding and white hot before it dims just as quickly. Shattering glass rains down as quietly as a caress. The filaments overheating and exploding, one after another until all that remains is the singular floor lamp at the back of the room. It casts disturbing shadows across Xavier, still in your lap. The light hits him wrong. Hits him at dangerous angles - his more delicate feature still shrouded in gloom. Your pulse doesn't slow.

You blink once, twice, three times against the sudden luminosity and stark murk. Partly, too, to earse the look in Xavier's eyes. They're wild and wide, an ominous glow against the indigo room.

His chest chest heaves, breaths ragged and the only noise beyond the buzz of static. Your own chest has stalled. You don't dare inhale. He's looking at you without recognition, a preadator snarling at prey. A chill skitters up your spine and out to the fingers still fisted in his hoodie. Your mouth dries.

You're in danger, the traitourous part of you croons.

You move to shove him off your lap and vault the sofa, cramps and numbness long forgotten. But Xavier's faster than you. Faster than light itself and he's straddling you now. His weight settles over your pelvis, thighs pressing against your own.

He reaches for your face. Alarm surges up inside you once again, and you can't summon the rational part of you, the part that knows bone deep that Xavier would rather fall on his sword than harm you. It must have slipped from you when the lightbulbs exploded, like a spooked animal. You're too light headed and the blood is surging in your ears.

You feel a bit like you're floating - the switch from a relaxing evening to a high-stress moment leaving you strung-out. Both of your chests are heaving and you finally notice his hands are chilled and trembling against your cheeks, unconciously and despite everything, you lean into the touch. You force a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, releasing the white-knuckle grip of his hoodie. The fabric holds the indents of your grip where it's been scrunched and stretched. They hang limply by your side, unsure if you should touch him.

"You-I-yo-" Xavier stammers, "-you left me."

It's not an accusation, but it should be. His voice shakes and he swallows thickly. His eyes are softer now but still wide and wet with tears. He tilts your face this way and that with a touch so reverant it's alien to the previous moments. He's leaning forward, head tilted down to examine you properly, as if he were doubting your presence, checking you aren't about to slip through his fingers.

It's quiet for a moment.

The weightless feeling ebbs. You take one of his hands in yours and guide it to rest over your heart. So he can feel the rhythm as it steadies, proof that it's still beating. That you're still here, at home with him - even if you are still reeling from the adrenaline surge. The action grounds you as well. It's your Xavier, of course nothing would have happened, even if he hadn't woken when he did.

"You're still here," he breathes. His hands are still trembling but his breathing has settled. His gaze roves your face, one had still wrapped in yours.

"Yeah," you clear your throat, shifting beneath him, "I'm still here, Xav." You school a small smile onto your lips. The shadows seem less hostile now, the sole lamp casting a warm buttery glow over him, marigold against forget-me-not. Blue skies and an orange sunset after a tempest. The light twinkles where it catches the powder-fine glass coating the floors and fabrics of your home. There's some glittering in Xavier's hair.

"Good." He sags against you like a puppet with its strings cut. Head slumping into the space between your neck and shoulder, breathing against your pulse point. His arms snake up your back and over your shoulders, pulling you impossibly close. His breath shudders once more and something warm drips onto your exposed skin, then again and agian. Any instinct to flee has be smothered, how could you ever have considered that Xavier would hurt you? The same Xavier sobbing into your arms following a nightmare. A nightmare where you had left him no less. You bring your own arms up to wrap around him.

It's not particularly comfortable - Xavier is nearly folded in half to tuck himself up into you while still straddling your lap. You run a hand through the hair at his nape and hold him. Soothe him. Soothe yourself, too, with whispers and promises pressed into his ashen hair.

"It's okay, Xav. You're okay. I'm okay. 'M not gonna leave you." A promise. A curse. A lie. A truth. An oath.

At the Time of my Death

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

⭐️ silent cry

✦ pairing: xavier / gn!reader

✦ genre: hurt to comfort

✦ warnings: probably badly written breakdown, feeling of emptiness and loneliness

✦ word count: 1.6k words

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ: there was never no need to hide your tears and feelings behind a fake smile. not when he was always there for you

⋆˙ ✦ note: as a huge stay and a silent cry lover, i couldn’t help myself but write this. this was probably the most fun i had while writing, though adding the lyrics into the story was harder than anticipated. stan stray kids y’all!! not proofread!

you had never been one to burden others with your feelings. perhaps it was that loud voice in your mind that kept on shouting to not annoy others around you, or just the fact that concerning people close to you filled you with guilt. you’ve always been told you were strong, and strong people don’t cry, right?

oh, how wrong everyone was. nobody knew that behind the smile you wore, behind every “i’m okay” you uttered, your poor heart was sobbing loudly. you dared not to show your vulnerability to anyone, not even the ones you considered friends, or even family. to be seen as disappointment was burdening your chest like an anvil.

that happy mask you always wore, simply to make others happy, seemed to shatter the moment you stepped foot in your dark room. the mental heaviness of your body and thoughts left you only sighing into the darkness, your frame harshly hitting the mattress. there was no joy in your eyes. you, who used to smile brightly, felt like you were slowly dying.

no one knew, yet a part of you felt glad. they didn’t deserve to be burdened by your troubles. even if no other person was there to listen to your nightly sobs and cries, you had made peace with that. for all you know, it was meant to be this way.

so there you were. in your room, dimly lit with the light radiating from your desk lamp, silently bawling your eyes out. your head laid on the pillow, the material of the sheet stained by the salty droplets of your tears. you weren’t aware of how long you had been crying, or why you even felt like it. it just happened, and there was no way to stop it. no matter how hard you tried, how much you tried to hold the tears in, it only made you cry more and harder.

your eyes burned, head was throbbing like it was repeatedly hit by a hard piece of metal. you could barely see the outlines of the furniture with how blurry your eyesight was. you wish you could just turn it off, to never feel again. or… to have someone you could cry to. but there wasn’t a person like that.

no one knew how you felt. at least, that was what you thought. one person knew all too well.

xavier was painfully aware of the pain in your eyes. the exhaustion behind your every smile. you were like a body without a soul, your gaze dull and almost empty. he wasn’t someone to notice other people’s feelings, moreover, he didn’t particularly care about the others.

but you weren’t just other person for him. you were special. he wanted to be your support, the shoulder to cry on. he was willing to be of help to you, no matter what would make you happy. truly happy.

yet you never approached him, and xavier couldn’t understand why. wouldn’t it be easier for you to let go of everything you held in? he would listen to your silent cry, that much was something he made clear to himself. your happiness was the most important thing to him, so why wasn’t it yours?

he was standing by your door, trying to listen to any sound coming from behind them. but your apartment was eerily quiet, as if you weren’t even there. but he knew better. he knew you were inside, suffering on your own.

as you laid on your bed, aggressively wiping the uncontrollable tears flowing down your cheeks, a knock erupted through the space of your abode. in panic, you jumped up, running to the bathroom to look at yourself.

the sight wasn’t pretty, it was anything but. your eyes were red, your hair a mess and face fully wet from tears. just the sight of yourself made you tear up even more. you bowed your head down, splashing handfuls of ice cold water on your face.

once you dried your face, you stumbled toward the door, possibly knocking something in the process. your hand made contact with the handle, and with a last deep breath, you swung the door open to reveal xavier.

“xavier! what are you doing here?” you mustered up the energy to smile brightly, hoping he would look over the red rim around your eyes.

you glanced down to notice a small box in his hand, and you immediately knew it were the macarons you liked the most. it was the packaging of it that gave away the content, and it made your heart flutter with genuine joy. even though it was a sparkle, it was enough.

“can i come in?” xavier asked with his usual calm tone.

the question surprised you, but you let him in anyway. with how dark your apartment was, his step to your room was careful, mindful of his surroundings. you quietly followed behind him, silently wishing he would explain his visit.

once you stood by your bed, xavier placed the box on the nightstand, right under the lit lamp before facing you. that was when you noticed the knot in between his eyebrows, not very far from a frown.

before you could say anything, his hand grabbed onto yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. your gaze fell down to your intertwined hands, then back at him. your eyes were round in surprise, and you barely bit back a gasp that threatened to fall from your mouth.

“why are you smiling when you don’t feel like it?” he whispered quietly, his free hand going up to cup your cheek.

he could feel the dried pathways of your tears beneath his palm. the cold water that you splashed your face with earlier didn’t get rid of the evidence of your tears fully, as it appeared. the pad of his thumb grazed ever so gently against your skin, drawing soothing circles over your cheekbone.

“what are you talking about? i’m okay,” you lied with a smile, though you could feel the tears prickling behind your eyelids.

“you always say that, but i can see how your heart sobs,” xavier’s voice was but a mere whisper as he drew you closer.

the forced smile began slowly faltering from your lips, and it was soon replaced by a quiver. without even realizing, a sob rippled through you, making it hard for you to hide your tears. one by one, like pearls falling from a torn necklace, tear droplets ran down your face. you couldn’t continue pretending to be alright, not when xavier was around.

a wave of relief washed over the man standing in front of you. he smiled softly as he engulfed you in a warm embrace, letting your tears stain his sweater. he didn’t mind. at least you weren’t alone in this, you had him now.

“don’t be the only one hurting,” he murmured into the crown of your head, earning a choked cry as a reply.

you tried to muster up a response, but nothing more than a sob came out. xavier shushed you gently, wordlessly saying that words weren’t needed.

careful with his movements, he settled on your bed. back leaning against the headboard, his arms reached out to pull you down on his lap. you had no energy to fight against it, in fact, you didn’t even want to. his warmth was soothing, and somehow nostalgic.

xavier’s arms held you tightly, like you’d slip away from his grasp if he let go. you cried and cried, body trembling and tears falling. loud sobs and pained whimpers filled the room, the dark place of all your deep sorrows.

even in his arms, it still hurt. why did it all have to hurt so much? and what was it that hurt? you weren’t even sure anymore. you couldn’t even tell if you had a reason to cry at all. it all felt useless, and utterly pointless. it felt unfair that xavier had to deal with your feelings, wrong even. you should push him away, right? you were a deepspace hunter, his partner. you were meant to be strong…right?

just as you were about to pull away, still crying heavily, you felt xavier’s slender fingers on the back of your head, gently pushing your head onto his chest.

“lean on me. i won’t let you go,” he whispered close to your ear, his lips brushing against your temple as he planted a gentle kiss on it.

xavier sat there with you, not uttering a sound as you let every tear out. his left hand gently caressed your hair, untangling the knots with a gentle touch, while the other drew soothing patterns on your back. his sweater was pretty much soaked by the time you were done, but he couldn’t care less. his favorite piece of clothing meant nothing compared to your happiness.

“thank you,” you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse and almost gone.

“you don’t have to thank me,” he shook his head, looking into your still teary eyes. “i’ll listen to your silent cry. always.”

his lips touched your forehead, calloused hands cupping your cheeks. he softly brushed the tear trails away, keeping his gaze on you. his touch was gentle, comforting. this man, the one who killed wanderers without mercy, treated you with upmost love and care. as if every crevice of your body was made of the most fragile glass.

“when you lose strength, i’ll hold you. i’ll say ‘it’s okay’ to you. just don’t cry alone, not when i’m here. not when i’m near,” xavier said in a quiet tone, leaning your head down to let you rest on his shoulder.

the heat of his body completely relaxed your muscles, putting your mind at ease. his chest slowly rose and fell as he breathed calmly, lulling you to sleep. your eyes began to close, and within a moment, you were asleep.

xavier didn’t leave your side, he wouldn’t dare. he stayed with you the whole night, occasionally waking up from his slumber to make sure you were sound asleep. as much as he valued his sleep, he valued you more.

he loved you more than anything.

© xaviers-star-tassel