How The Boys Would React When You Have A Migraine

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

Lumiere re-run: Aftermath

📖⬅⬅⬅

Xavier, you're such a meanie... >n<!!! you better come home early the next banner or your cheeks will be so sore...!

So I received this ask from anon:

I have recently had a very uncomfortable experience...I am a uni student and have to travel via train sometimes. I was in my seat, wearing headphones, and I could see in the reflection of a window that there were 3 guys looking at me and one of them was all spread out touching himself. Later, that man came to sit next to me and tried to talk to me or get me to look at him. I was just ignoring him, and staring into my phone and pretending not to hear him since I had headphones over my ears, but I could hear them talking about me. They kept daring each other to touch my hair and stuff like that.

Later when we had to get up to get off the train, they walked up to me and kept "brushing" theirs hands "accidentally" against me.

Thankfully nothing happened because they lost me in the crowd once I got out of the train but I was super scared they would follow me

I am so so so sorry you had to experience that. My heart was breaking as I read your ask🥺 I know exactly how that feels, to be completely helpless in those situations. I hope you stay safe always and be sure to always travel with a companion next time🥹

Here is the request for the LADS boys reacting to the events/finding out what happened to you.

You tell them what happened—the train, the way you were stared at, touched, followed. Your voice shakes by the end of it, even if you’re trying to keep it steady.

You didn’t want to make it a big deal. You just needed someone to know:

Zayne

He doesn’t speak at first.

But you see it—the shift. The stillness. Like something inside him tightens, coils too tightly to breathe. His face remains calm, but his eyes say everything. Fury, quiet and buried, held back by habit. By choice.

“They touched you?”

His voice is soft. Too soft. Like he’s trying not to believe it.

You nod.

He inhales slowly, jaw flexing as he exhales through his nose. Then his hand scrubs over his face, once, grounding himself. “Did you report it?”

You shake your head. “No. I was scared. I just… I just wanted to leave.”

His gaze flickers toward the floor, then back to you. “You did what you had to do. I’m not angry at you.”

He hesitates. Then quietly adds, “I hate that I wasn’t there. That you had to face that alone.”

You glance away, and he steps in closer. Not fast. Not overwhelming. Just enough to rest his hand gently on your arm, the warmth of his skin an anchor.

“Next time,” he murmurs, “tell me. Call me. Text me. Anything.”

His voice lowers, thick with the words he struggles to say aloud. “You matter to me more than you think. Don’t go through something like that alone again.”

Later that night, he doesn’t leave your side. He lets you sleep curled against him, one arm around your waist, the other brushing soft strokes through your hair. And every time you shift in your sleep, he murmurs something under his breath.

“You’re safe now.”

“I’m here.”

“They’ll never get near you again.”

The next morning, he drives you to campus.

Kisses your forehead before you get out of the car.

Then heads to the hospital.

It’s a quiet day, until three men are wheeled into the ER. Minor injuries. Nothing urgent. But Zayne hears them laughing. Whispering. Mentioning a girl.

The words catch his ear.

Train. Girl. Scared.

He stills. Completely.

He doesn’t ask questions.

He reads the chart, notes the names.

And when the others step out, Zayne lingers behind. Alone.

What happens next isn’t in the textbooks. It isn’t written into the Hippocratic oath. But he’s a surgeon—he knows exactly where it hurts. Where to press. Where to leave no trace.

Later, when a nurse asks why all three patients discharged themselves early and limped out without a word, Zayne simply nods and goes back to work.

He never mentions it to you.

He just holds your hand a little tighter the next time you walk through the city.

Sylus

There’s a pause.

Not hesitation—calculation.

A flicker in Sylus’s crimson eyes as he scans every word, every tremble in your voice, cataloging and analyzing it with terrifying precision.

You can almost hear the gears turning. Quiet. Lethal.

“Did you get a good look at them?” he asks. The question is sharp, deceptively calm.

You shake your head, voice small. “No. Just… their voices. One of them was touching himself. Then he sat beside me. Tried to talk to me. They were laughing. Daring each other to touch my hair.”

Sylus doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink.

But his jaw sets, ever so slightly. A muscle ticks in his cheek.

“Scum like that,” he says, voice low, “always think they’re untouchable. Like the world won’t notice when they disappear.”

He doesn’t pace. Doesn’t shout. He doesn’t need to. His fury manifests in stillness—in the way his fingers lace together too tightly, in the frigid control of his tone.

“You’re not taking the train again. Ever.”

“That’s not—Sylus, it’s not realistic—”

“I wasn’t asking.”

His voice slices through your protest like a knife. “I’ll walk with you. Drive you. Put a goddamn tracker on your coat if I have to. But you’re not going near that station alone again. Next time, they won’t even get close enough to breathe near you.”

Silence. Then something shifts in his eyes as they flicker down to your clenched fists.

His tone softens—but only slightly. “I know you were scared. And I hate that they made you feel powerless.”

He reaches out, knuckles grazing your hand. Careful. Controlled.

“But you’re not small. And no one gets to make you feel that way. Not under my watch.”

You nod, and he pulls away.

“Luke. Kieran,” he calls out, without raising his voice. His eyes stay on you. “Get her home. Stay with her.”

Mephisto swoops in and lands on the back of his chair, watching in silence as Sylus stands.

He doesn’t bother turning. “You were tailing her. Track them down.”

His voice is low. Icy.

And Mephisto launches into the air with a mechanical screech that echoes like the end of a countdown.

Within minutes, they bring them to him.

Three men. Faces bloodied, defiant—until they meet his eyes.

There is no grand speech. No threat.

Only Sylus, standing over them like death incarnate, sleeves rolled up, gaze as sharp as a blade.

He leans in, smile cruel and quiet. “Let’s see how untouchable you feel now.”

By the time he’s done, they can’t so much as whisper your name.

And Sylus?

He wipes the blood from his hands with surgical precision. Straightens his coat. And walks out without looking back.

You never hear their voices again.

Rafayel

He goes very still.

The kind of stillness that unsettles the air, that draws the light out of the room without a sound. His expression—usually teasing, theatrical, bold—shifts.

Not into anger. Not yet. It becomes unreadable.

Cold in a way that doesn’t suit his fire.

“They touched you?”

The words fall low, sharp. Stripped of all his usual lilt. Dead serious. Dangerous.

You nod.

His hands curl at his sides, nails biting into his palms. The crackle of heat that usually dances around him is absent. It’s quiet. Controlled. But the restraint is louder than any fury.

“Give me their names,” he says. “Or their faces. I don’t need both.”

You shake your head. Quiet. “I don’t want revenge… I just wanted to feel safe again. That’s all. Just… stay.”

Something flickers in his eyes. Not disappointment—never that. But something else. Like the desire to burn the world colliding with the aching need to be what you asked for.

He exhales through his nose. Shoulders relax just enough for him to step in.

Then his arms are around you, pulling you in, holding you so tightly you feel real again. His warmth wraps around you, not scorching—just steady, grounding. Like embers at your back.

“Then that’s what I’ll be,” he murmurs into your hair. “Your safe place.”

A beat.

“But if they so much as breathe your way again,” he adds, voice quieter, crueler, “I won’t be as merciful.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, lingers there. “You did nothing wrong, love. You hear me? I’m proud of you. And I’m so, so glad you’re here.”

Your voice cracks when you finally whisper, “I was scared.”

He tucks you closer to his chest, hand cradling the back of your head.

“I know, cutie. I know.” His voice softens like dusk, like waves kissing ash. “It’s over now. You’re with me.”

You fall asleep in his arms, safe in the heat of him.

And later—when the moon is high and your breathing is steady—he slips away. Silent. Focused.

CCTV footage. Street cameras. Reflections in windows. It doesn’t take long. He’s always been good at finding the shadows people try to hide in.

By dawn, three men are reported missing.

One is found knee-deep in a freezing river, babbling about glowing eyes and a voice that promised worse.

The others? Well.

Let’s just say they won’t be going near open water again.

And Rafayel?

He returns before you wake. Washes the blood off his hands.

And makes you tea.

Xavier

He blinks. Once. Twice. Then goes still—completely still.

The words hit him like a punch to the chest. You can see it in his eyes—the disbelief, the horror. Like something in him can’t reconcile the image of you—you—with the violation you just described.

“They were… watching you?” he repeats, slowly. “And they touched you?”

You nod.

Xavier’s breath hitches, his hand tightening ever so slightly at his side. He looks shaken—not by fear, but by the weight of helplessness. His voice comes quiet, almost broken.

“I—I don’t understand… how anyone could think that’s okay. How they could look at you and—”

He stops himself. His jaw clenches. It’s subtle, but telling. Xavier rarely shows this much emotion all at once. You see the storm gathering behind his calm.

Then, with careful control, he steps closer. His hand reaches for yours, warm and trembling faintly. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. That you were scared. That they made you feel small.”

He swallows. “You should never have had to feel that way. Not for a second.”

His eyes lift to yours, and they’re unwavering now. That quiet strength he carries, the kind most people miss—it sharpens into something else. Resolve.

“I wish I had been there,” he says softly. “Because I would’ve stopped them. I would’ve made sure they never looked at you again.”

Then, quieter—like a vow spoken into the space between heartbeats—

“You won’t ever be alone again. Not if I can help it.”

He holds you that night, as long as you’ll let him. A steady presence. A silent promise.

But when you’re asleep—peaceful at last—Xavier slips away. Quietly. Deliberately.

He tracks them down. It doesn’t take much.

He already had access to security feeds, transport records, street cameras.

He watches the footage once, then again, jaw tightening.

Then he finds them.

And Xavier doesn’t scream. He doesn’t threaten. He doesn’t need to.

All he says, in that low, even voice of his, is:

“You made her afraid. That was your first mistake. I won’t give you time to make a second.”

They don’t know what hit them.

And the next time you take that train, no one dares come close.

No one even looks at you the wrong way.

Not with Xavier walking beside you—quiet, composed, protective as ever.

But now, there’s something different in the way people step aside when he passes.

Something cold.

Something earned.

Just Be Yourself

Xavier; Zayne; Rafayel; Sylus; Caleb x female!reader || with teenage kids!

Genre: fluff

Warnings: 300-600 words, lgbtq+ kids!, married lads&reader, reader likes women too in Sylus's part!

Note: as a pansexual person I know how much of a struggle coming out to your parents may be, but I believe our dear lads men would do a great job at creating a safe space for their kids to come out to them

for masterlist and request info head to the navigation →

How would they react to their kids coming out to them?

Xavier was lying on the couch, peacefully watching tv and falling asleep when his 16 year old son interrupted his tries to take a nap.

"Dad?" he walked around the couch to get to him and shake his shoulder a bit.

"Hm..?" was the only response he got, Xavier not even bothering to open his eyes.

"I have something to talk to you about. Can you quit sleeping for a moment please?" and finally he saw his dad opening up his eyes (only half way) and sitting up.

"Yes?"

"Well I..." his son turned to look at the carpet, clearly stressed about something judging by the way he played with his fingers nervously.

Not rushing him Xavier simply stayed in one position, trying not to fall asleep.

"I'm... Gay..." finally he said, looking into his dad's eyes matching his own.

The next moment of silence seemed to last eternity, the teenager would lie if he said he wasn't afraid of his dad's response, even if you already assured him he'll accept him no matter what.

"Okay." that... Was it?

"Okay?" Orion repeated after Xavier, tension leaving him, allowing confusion to take place.

"Okay. It's not my business to tell you who to love." he stated like the simplest thing in the world.

In a second he was wrapped in a tight hug which he reciprocated a little too slow from the lack of his afternoon nap.

"You're the best, dad!" his son cried out into his shoulder, squeezing Xavier tighter before letting go of him to run somewhere "Mom, you were right! I can't wait to tell my boyfriend that he can come over for lunch!"

Xavier lied down again, getting comfy under the material of a blanket when...

BOYFRIEND?!

He looked in the direction his son disappeared to, not feeling sleepy any longer.

Sitting in the dining room with his laptop and a half finished coffee Zayne continued filling up patients reports regarding his last surgeries.

He heard footsteps coming from behind him, recognizing them as his child's he continued with his work not turning around to acknowledge the teen, expecting them to pass by the room on their way to the kitchen.

"Dad? Can I talk to you about something?" he heard the hesitation accompanying their voice.

"Of course, what's bothering you?" he said not taking his eyes off the monitor.

"Could you... Not focus on your work for a bit..?" the presence of vulnerability accompanying their quiet words made him worried.

"Yes, forgive me." he took his hands off the keyboard, turning his head towards the teen.

What he saw made him pause for a moment, brows arching in confusion.

There he was, his 16 year old son, standing with eyes dropped to the floor, nervous, almost crying and in... Make-up?

Seeing how they didn't seem eager to express what was bothering them Zayne decided to push the topic a little bit, already expecting what the conversation was going to be about.

"You look nice." he simply stated, not a hint of anger or disappointment in his voice.

The shock he saw on the teen's face the very next second spoke loudly, tears forming in their eyes.

With a hand gesture he asked them to come forward, taking their hand into his.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" he gently stated, brushing one tears away from their cheek.

Nodding their head they tried to compose themselves enough to make a sentence leave their closing on the air throat.

"I... I want you to call me Ivy from now on." Zayne brushed their hair away from their eyes, the warm present in his eyes, reserved only for his little family.

"Ivy." he said, testing it on his tongue and nodding approvingly "I like it."

He saw the way his daughter bit her lip so as not to let out a sob before crashing her dad into a hug.

"Don't ruin your make-up, I know mom worked hard on this one." she laughed at the comment "To this day I remember how your mom cried at the party once, with a napkin under her eyes, refusing to smear her mascara."

"Mom's always been a girl boss, wasn't she?" they laughed together.

"That she was, and you're exactly like her." he felt the hug tightening up even more.

"Those god-damned SEAGULLS-" Rafayel screamed, looking at the mischievous bird that stole his paintbrush simply because he put it on a table for a second too long to take a sip of the tea made by you.

"Why are we yelling?!" now the artist didn't only scream but also jumped, startled.

"When did you get here?!" he looked with hurt at his daughter, holding a hand to his chest to calm his heart down.

"Stop yelling!" he heard you, his wife, screaming from the kitchen.

"Of course, cutie!"

"Sorry, mom!" they both answered, turning in the direction of your voice, your figure hidden behind a wall.

Rafayel looked at his daughter, waiting to see whether she wanted something or if he could come back to his peaceful (not really) lookout for inspiration.

"I have news~" she said, almost singing it, and swaying to the sides with a huge grin on her face.

"Hit me with it." he watched her happiness, preparing for the news of the century.

"I have a girlfriend!" she jumped up and clapped her hands in joy.

Rafayel almost fell from his stool.

"A what?!"

"I said something!" your voice rang from the kitchen again, with your head peeking out to send him a firm glare.

"I'm sorry, honey, love you!" he said to you before turning back to his daughter "A what." he pointed at her in shock.

"A girlfriend! You know, a girl, that I really, really like? Like you like mom?" she explained to him sarcastically, watching as he tried to process the information.

"Okay, first of." he raised a finger and looked at her with disappointment "I don't like your mom, I love her." he said firmly, it was important to correct that huge HUGE mistake his daughter said.

"I love you too, darling!" you butt in again, to which he pointed approvingly in your way, still hidden behind a wall and busy.

"And second." he didn't move his eyes away from his grinning daughter "You're too young to have a girlfriend!"

"Dad, I'm 16 years old! I'm turning 17 in half a year!" she protested.

"You're still a baby!"

"I'm not a baby anymore."

"To me you'll always be a baby!" he cried out, upset that his child grows up.

"Dad, pleasee-" she groaned in disbelief.

"Also since when do you like girls?!" he looked at her sternly "How come I didn't know about it?"

"Oh please, I couldn't be more obvious about it, I had a crush on every single one of the female characters in every single movie we watched together." she deadpanned to him to which he responded with his lips turning into a straight line, eyes half closed, a hand on his chin and thinking.

"Okay, yeah, the signs were there." he nodded his head "But didn't you have a boyfriend like a year ago?"

"Yeah, I'm bi, dad." she explained.

"Oh shit double the idiots to protect you from." his eyes widened in panic.

"Daaad." she groaned again, he was unbelievable. She raised her head to look up at the ceiling before her eyes fell back to him "So, you're okay with this?" she asked, a little bit unsure, but still calm.

"What, with you being bisexual? Sure, love who you want to love and all that. What I'm not okay with is all the idiots that are gonna try to win you over that don't deserve you. No one deserves you!" she laughed at his antics.

Yeah, she loved her drama queen dad.

"Father, I have something important to tell you." Sylus stopped humming, turning his head to sneak a glance at his 17 year old daughter. He was currently cooking dinner for you, since you were in too much pain to move due to your period, he wanted to spoil you in every way he could.

"Yes, Lilith?" he asked while taking out plates.

"I hate men." she said, standing with her arms crossed over her chest and sending a dead glare from those red eyes of hers.

"Just like your mother." he muttered, completely unfazed, still focusing on the task at hand.

"No, dad, I mean I'll never be with one, I hate looking at them, and want to throw up anytime I see one without a shirt." he still didn't look like the information shocked or hurt him "I like women, okay?" she said firmly, annoyed at his lack of reaction. Now he finally turned to look at her again.

"Like I said; just like your mother." he deadpanned. His daughter's mouth fell open in confusion.

"Wait, mom likes girls?" he nodded, not caring too much for the topic "But she married you?!" now he chuckled.

"Yes, you see, Lily, your mother hated men, always did, still does, saying that they are all scums and she'll never find herself in a relationship with one." she smiled gently, as if reminiscing his wife's words brought him joy "But then I came along, and now she hates every single man, except for me. Now, your mom is attracted to all genders, in case you haven't noticed yet." he looked at the teen, crocking an eyebrow.

"How was I supposed to notice?! Every time I am with the both of you somewhere in public all you two do is stare at each other and tease each other to the point I want to cry, cause I'll never have someone love me like you love each other!" she argued with him, making some very energetic hand gestures. Sylus only chuckled, yes, him and his wife are crazy over each other.

"Now, now, sweetie, I'm sure you'll find someone who'll love you just as much. Now I do have to say, I prefer you liking women too, I'm not a... Huge fun of teenage boys anywhere near my daughter." he said, coming back to focusing on the cooking.

"Thanks, dad, I knew I could count on you to understand." she said, more calmly this time, grinning right after "Oh! Also, I sneaked to mom like 10 minutes ago, we're doing a self-care evening today while watching movies, wanna join?" she asked, clapping her hands, like a kid talking about sweets.

"Sure, I don't see why not. Just make sure not to hug her too tightly on the sad scenes, she doesn't feel too well today." Lily nodded, running out of the kitchen right after to get into her pajamas.

She loved days on which her always busy father found the time to indulge in her little plans.

It was early morning, Caleb as usual woke up first to start off his day with making breakfast for his family. On any other day it would be you who'd join him in the kitchen first, before your kids wake up, especially on the weekend like this, but this time his oldest son was the one to greet him first.

"Hey, dad." he simply said, reaching out for a glass to pour apple juice into.

"What's got you to wake up at 7am on Saturday?" Caleb asked, focused on cutting vegetables.

"Didn't sleep well last night, I have something to talk to you about, I already talked to mom about this last week when you were gone on a mission, decided it's better to do it before Skye and Ethan wake up." he stated, as calm and collected as his father.

"Sounds serious, what's up?" he sneaked a glance at his son, still working on the breakfast.

"Well I... I have a partner. We hit six months together recently, and I wanted to... Invite them for dinner sometime, you know, so that you'll meet them." he explained slowly, Caleb listened in silence, connecting dots in his head.

"Where's the catch?" he said instantly when Alec stopped talking.

"No catch just..." the teen exhaled.

Caleb looked at the 18 year old boy, waiting for him to finish the thought.

"They're... Non-binary." he finally said, his dad's expression didn't betray how he felt about that "And since we never talked about stuff like that, I wanted to ask if that's... Okay with you."

"Date who you want to." he simply said "I just want you and your siblings to be happy." he put the perfectly chopped veggies on the pan.

"So you won't have a problem with addressing them accordingly?"

"Nope." he didn't hesitate "Now if that topic is over, go and set the table, usually your mom is the one helping me with that, but today you were faster than her, congrats." Caleb chuckled hearing his son groan.

"Waking up early is no fun." he stated before getting to work.

©alexrosa13 on tumblr

taglist @pozuki

This is one of my fav xav arts i have seen ....🥹🥹

Its so gooood.. AHHHHHHHHHH

Colonel! Xavier

• Colonel! Xavier whose appearance is deceiving. Literally a wolf in sheep's clothing. Everyone is afraid of him and the rookies who made the mistake of trying to over power him, well they are never seen again.

• Colonel! Xavier who joined the fleer the moment he knew Ever was working within the Fleer, he had made sure that you were safe even in this life. Who was not afraid of killing anyone who dared to even glance in your direction.

• His jealousy would reach even higher levels! For the safety of the Fleet workers, you stopped going to Skyheaven, but Xavier always knows if a male is trying to interact with you. Is that a drone following you?

• This man is even jealous of his own robotic arm. Do you like the arm more than him, so he tries to not touch with that arm. Even considering trying to find a way to grow a human arm so he could touch with his own skin.

• He likes taking you flying because it's only the two of you, there is no one else in the sky that can come between the two of you. Colonel! Xavier will wife you up so he can get frisky with you in the sky, I will bet that at least once, he turned the autopilot so you could ride his plane.

• Colonel! Xavier who can actually cook, the food could be better but at least he is not a hazard to society anymore.

• This version of Xavier would only pretend to take the chip in his head, only to be ripped off by his contacts, there is no way in hell that he would let someone else take the memories he had with you. He has remembered you for centuries and he will keep remembering you for millennials.

• Colonel! Xavier requests you to be the hunter on duty on Skyheaven so he could see you more often. If you ever need a partner, he would only allow females to come with you.

• Colonel! Xavier who hates incompetence, who is not afraid to downgrade subordinates for the minimal error. Even if the error was trying to talk with his adjutant about an important mission. His subordinates will try to find a way to contact you so you would call him down. Is he abusing them verbally? No problem, they will call you so he can talk with you and calm him down.

• Colonel! Xavier who can only sleep if you are with him, and will try his best to not be dead by next spring. He found you now and he is not willing to let you go.

• Colonel! Xavier is willing to give up his life to EVER as long as they never touch you. He will destroy them from inside. Do you think that Caleb was a little extra with Viper? With Xavier as the Colonel, Viper is not even allowed to have a thought about you, Xavier would know if Viper has a thought about you.

AHHH.. THIS IS SOOO GOOOOOD and perfectly captured the moment

Street interviews would absolutely get MC in trouble 😂

When the Dawn Hesitates, the Light Trembles | Oneshot

shen xinghui | xavier x reader

synopsis:

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

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

word count: 6.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🌙✨

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

“To who?” her friend gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His gaze remained steady.

You swallowed. Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

You let out a long sigh.

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

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

You needed fresh air.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🌙✨

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You remained silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🌙✨

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was a pause.

“And how are you planning on doing that?”

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

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

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

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

🌙✨

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you buy it?”

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

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

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

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

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

You relented, nodding.

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

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

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

“Why?” his voice was searching.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stopped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✨Extra✨:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ೃ⁀➷ FLUSTERING HIM — zayne, xavier, rafayel x gn!reader

it tends to be difficult to flustered the impenetrable dr. zayne. the crispy sizzle of bacon hits hot iron and the thick scent of popping fat flies into the air. you eye the tall doctor from your spot at the counter. a apron uncharacteristic of him is tied nicely around his waist. he cracks an egg with his empty hand, plopping the slimy yolk into a bowl only to whisk it into a frothy yellow mixture.

mornings with zayne have always been comforting. you watch him carefully, scurrying over to watch his cooking skills from behind. "do you want me to teach you?" he glances briefly down at you, a touch of affection in his green eyes. "no, i just wanna watch for now." he raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

a sleepy affection fills your heart and your arms slide around his waist from behind. pressing your face against his back, you take a chance to inhale the refreshing scent of his shampoo. zayne stiffens, taking a moment to pause his cooking as he feels your hands glide across his waist. heat floods into his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

"why'd you stop?" you murmur into the fabric of your shirt. "i couldn't remember what else i needed," he says, his calm tone wavering just for a second. his adam's apple bobs as he tries to ignore the way your touch elicits tingles up his spine.

xavier’s arm reaches over, pulling you closer as streaks of colorful light flash across the tv screen. you find your eyes growing heavy as you lean into his chest. the soft rising and falling from his breathing rocks you gently. you couldn’t remember by now who had suggested a movie, but neither of you seemed to mind much.

you don’t think it capable of flustering someone as calm and lackadaisical as xavier. but his own emotions are seen when the lights of the movie begins to fade and he strokes your arm with languid fingers.

you lean closer, intaking his scent as your eyes flutter close. sleep descends on you as the credits begin to roll. xavier skims over the varying list of names before turning to you. he nudges you gently, unsure if you’re awake or not. he calls your name but garners no response.

instead, you bury yourself deeper into his embrace, murmuring his name through parted lips. he pauses, staring you with a soft amazement and adoration. a tinge of pink colors his cheeks as he glances away from your endearing position. he wants to ask you not to catch him off guard like that, but lets out a sigh, covering his warming expression with the back of his hand.

it’s easy as breathing oxygen to fluster the stubborn rafayel. you snack on the stick-shaped chocolate biscuits, watching as he rambles on about one of his latest clients. you wonder if there was an easier way to get him to stop talking at the speed of light.

a final bite of your pocky sparks an idea and it seems rafayel has recognized it as well. he juts out his lower lip, pouting as he realizes you’ve dropped paying attention to his very important words. “are you listening?” he chirps, “this is very important, you know?”

you nod your head vaguely before placing the pocky stick against his lips. “first one to pull away loses.” you grin and you can already see the tips of his ears turning a lovely shade of red. he stares at you before delicately biting down on the biscuit. “fine, but i won’t lose,” he mumbles.

you already know you have this in the bag the moment you bite down, inching closer to rafayel little by little. your eyes lock with his for a moment before a mischievous gleam strikes in your eyes and you’re tilting your head to the side as if ready to kiss him. immediately as his lips brush against yours, he bites down and pulls away. his eyes dart away as he tries to cover up his neck and face turning into a burning cherry. he mumbles something about letting you win.

Can you...

Read 📖⬅⬅

...give me one last kiss?

🎵 One Last Kiss - Utada Hikaru 🎵

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Just in time before Dec 7... another song lyric inspired piece இ௰இ I can't tell if my heart is ready or not