I’m Sorry To Say It But Xanthus Fans Are Starving … And With The Situation There In … Pls I’ve

Isaac and listener having their first ever disagreement/misunderstanding as lovers ever ever???

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐫𝐲 ꨄ Isaac

˜”* ❝𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙚, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙚.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɢᴏɴᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ.

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

Beep.

“Hey, when you get this, can you call me back? I want to make sure you’re okay. Bye, honey.”

Beep.

“It’s been an hour… I made some food for us. I know I normally don’t cook but you’re, wherever you are and I wanted to make something for us. Call me when you get this, love you.”

Beep.

“It’s been about… 4 hours since the last one? I’m getting kind of worried. I mean, I know you, you wouldn’t ignore me or anything so I hope you’re okay. Just make sure to call me when you get this, bye.”

Beep.

“honey, please come home, It’s three in the morning.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You open the door quietly. You knew you were gone for a long time but didn’t want to wake up Isaac.

“Welcome home.”

You jumped at the voice that spoke to you.

“Isaac? What are you doing up right now?”

You put your coat up and walk closer to him.

“Where were you?”

“Isaac, you need to slee–”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Y/N. Where were you?”

You’d never seen him this angry before especially not to you. You knew what the time was, you knew how tired he was.

“Isaac we can talk about this when you get the sleep you need.”

“The sleep I need? You were gone since, what, nine? Do you know how many times I tried calling you?”

“I was busy.”

“And you couldn’t call back? I thought something happened to you, I didn’t know where you were and why.”

“You didn’t need to. I’m sorry I was gone for so long but I’m here now.”

You walked away out of frustration and went into the kitchen.

“No, we’re not doing this. What if you got hurt?”

“But I didn’t! Isaac, I need you to stop trying to babysit me! You’re always trying to fucking watch over me but I’m grown. I don’t need you to watch me all the damn time!”

You could hear him get up to follow you, clearly pissed. 

“Maybe because I care about you?! I don’t want to find out that I couldn’t protect you or some crazy shit like that! I was sitting here for hours, waiting, all because you couldn’t pick up the phone! You’re mad at me? I’m the one that should be mad! You know I’m paranoid, Y/N.”

You grabbed a drink from the fridge and a cup to pour it in. You weren’t ‘mad’ at him, you just didn’t feel like arguing.

There was a new found tension between the two of you and you didn't like it. It felt tight, suffocating.

“Isaac,” You look at him.

He stops his movement to look at you. His eyes were full of worry and anger.

“I understand, you worry about me. I’m sorry I didn’t call you back. I didn’t mean to make you worry, okay? I just don’t want to fight and I just want us to be okay.”

“We are okay. I just– just, tell me next time. You didn’t even let me know before you left.”

You put everything down and hugged him. He was fragile and you forgot that. There was so much built-up emotion in his system and you could tell. He melted into you a bit, he needed to let go.

“I’m sorry, Isaac. I love you, okay?”

He looked at you and smiled, “I love you too, honey. We can have a better conversation about this later, okay?”

You nodded and took him to bed. 

Sure enough, when he woke up, he gave you an entire lecture about not answering your phone but you knew he just wanted you to be safe. Though, given his past, you knew you should’ve said something.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

thank u for requesting but how DARE YOU (ily)

Strictly Business

Isaac asks for a relationship that is entirely professional. You oblige, to both your disappointment.

Isaac Rhoades x Reader

Warnings: talk of insomnia

“I just thought—” you began hesitantly, moving the tray of cinnamon swirls closer to Isaac, prompting him to take a second one. The placating motion did nothing to ease the frown on his face. His hard stare remained fixed on you, annoyed and dismissive. You felt your heart sinking and averted your eyes.

Isaac hummed unbothered as if he couldn’t care less about your request to spend time together — as if he did not care in the slightest to entertain your pathetic longing for human company. “I’m busy, you know,” he said by way of dismissal and pushed the plate of freshly baked cinnamon swirls back towards you. 

After a bit of prying, you had found out that his mother used to make them when he felt sad and — with the anniversary of his parent’s death so recent — you wanted to cheer him up and surprise him with his comfort food. Isaac did not appreciate your efforts, evidently.

You tried to take the blunt rejection of both your company and care for him in stride, but you could not suppress the tight clench of your jaw as your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. “If I overstepped the other day in the garden,” you said slowly, raising your gaze to meet Isaac’s and show him the sincerity of your apology, “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way. I—”

“It’s fine,” he said curtly, rising from his seat at the table and straightening his tie. “Think nothing of it. It was a lapse of judgment on both parts. We can pretend it never happened.”

“But I actually—”

“No,” Isaac interrupted, holding up a hand to silence you, “our relationship is strictly professional and I intend to keep it that way. I’m sorry, but I am in no way interested in anything more. There is nothing between us. Understand?” 

Isaac’s stare burned into you and you swallowed thickly, hiding how much his words hurt. “I understand,” you said in a tone so calm and drained of feeling it took Isaac aback. 

He blinked in surprise, no longer used to your flat tone and apathetic stare. ‘Sir’ hung unsaid in the air between you. Isaac cleared his throat to break the loaded silence stretching across the house again. 

You got up from your seat, brushing down the front of your clothes. “Well, as you said, my services will not be needed on my day off. I will be in the library should you change your mind,” you said tonelessly, leveling Isaac stoically. 

There was a glint of worry in his eyes, a chip in his armor you could only spot because you had spent many hours with him, paying close attention to his expressions and mannerisms. Isaac looked unsure. His mouth was slightly agape, but whatever he wanted to say was buried a moment later, hidden behind the thick wall of nonchalance and indifference he put up. 

The crack in his mask was sealed, and expressionless eyes met your own.

“Happy reading.”

Isaac thought he knew what loneliness felt like — he had lived in solitude for years now — but no amount spent on his own had prepared him for the heart-wrenching sorrow he felt as you continuously brushed him off, retreating into yourself and being the strict definition of utterly professional. 

He felt hollow, watching you set the table with only one plate for him to eat at alone, hearing your monotonous voice ask him if he would prefer rice or pasta, seeing your lips twist in a polite but ingenuous smile as you greeted him in the mornings, handing him his coffee and disappearing to start on your daily chores. 

There had been no sweets, nor snacks you would prepare for him and shily requested he give you feedback on. There were no little bursts of light throughout his day as your paths crossed and you shot him a smile or playful wink. 

There were no intimate moments between you two where you would look at him with an open, vulnerable expression and rest your head against his chest as you told him about your past. There was no tender, featherlight caress of your fingers on his cheeks as he revealed some of his fears and troubles to you. 

You had shut him out, adhering to the boundaries he had impulsively set as his anxieties got the better of him. Now he was left with the consequences of pushing you away.

‘There is nothing between us,’ he had said, but why was his heart breaking every time you looked at him with your cold stare and turned your back a moment later? Why was he lying awake at night, his mind occupied only with thoughts of you as the devouring feeling of loneliness and loss swelled in his chest and choked him? Why was he missing you so terribly that it made tears gather in his eyes when you had your back turned?

It was pathetic, and one night, after you had shot down his concern for the dark circles under your eyes and told him it should be of no matter as long as you performed your duties to his standard, he recognized his sentiment to be a lie. 

There was something between you. There had to be because the sinking feeling as you, clearly hurting, turned away once more tore him to shreds. There was no other explanation for it, but Isaac was afraid of what that realization brought with it.

He was afraid that the admission to his all-encompassing love for you would be the very thing that destroyed him. Everyone he loved was gone, and he felt his hands beginning to shake at the thought that you — now among those he adored — would meet the same fate because he was too slow, too weak, too incompetent to protect you.

Still, there was only so much hollowness he could endure, and the loneliness engulfing him was so acute that it had begun hurting to exist in the house. Your brief company somehow made him feel the loneliest of all.

A quiet sound of protest came from one of the corners of the library as Isaac switched off the light. “Sorry,” he apologized tiredly, turning the light back on to look at you, huddled on the small sofa with a blanket around you and a book in your hands. Judging by the cover, it was Frankenstein. “I thought you had already gone to bed and left the light on by mistake. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. It was late. However, something kept you from sleeping for the past few weeks, and no matter how tired you were, it was nearly impossible for you to doze off. At times, when the morning sun was slowly rising over the horizon and the first rays illuminated the dark blue of night, it felt like you were too tired to fall asleep.

“No worries,” you said curtly, resuming your reading, “I will make sure to turn off the light when I go up in a minute. Good night.” 

The lie rolled off your tongue as if it were nothing. Isaac did not move from his place in the doorway. You knew he knew that you couldn’t sleep. It was evident in your appearance, your red eyes with dark bags beneath them that looked more like bruises with every passing day. The soft footsteps he could hear pacing around the house at night when you were too restless to sit down. He would be a lousy private investigator if he had not noticed your insomnia coming back in full force.

“I—” he said into the silence, making you look towards him.

“It is rather late,” you answered, trying to discourage Isaac from starting any conversation. In truth, it hurt having him near you when he was seemingly an infinity away, hidden behind some brick wall he had put up to keep the world out — you included. 

It was his decision, and after the kiss, or as he called it, a ‘lapse of judgment,’ you did not think it right to push his boundaries after he had so clearly told you and shown you with his actions, that he wanted nothing but a professional relationship with you. It made your heart crack, but you were adamant to give him only what he asked for, only as much as he wanted from you. It made the situation somewhat bearable to know it was what he wanted.

Isaac cleared his throat, stepping further into the room. “I know, but I— It’s just that you—” he stuttered, suddenly nervous at confronting you. “You haven’t been—”

“Well, I certainly am tired,” you said, marking the book to set it on the small table beside the couch and rising from your comfortable cocoon to fold the blanket neatly and place it over the back of the couch.

“Wait, I—”

“Good night then, boss.” You brushed past him and kept walking towards the door, but a hand on your wrist stopped you. “Don’t forget to turn off the light,” you said, fighting against the urge to lean into Isaac’s light touch. It wasn’t professional. That was not what he wanted. There was nothing between you.

“Don’t call me that, Pickle,” he said quietly, his thumb tracing small circles against your wrist. “I haven’t been— Our relationship has not been strictly business for a while now. It never was to begin with.”

“I thought that was what you wanted out of me,” you answered, unable to keep your voice from breaking as Isaac raised your hand to his lips, softly kissing the back of your hand. “You said—”

“I was wrong,” he said quickly, his eyes so earnest that you could not help but believe him, “I was scared that I would get too close to you after the kiss and then you would— you would leave me and— I don’t think I can go through that again, losing a person I love.”

At Isaac‘s words, something within you broke.

Tears began welling up in your eyes and you stepped closer to wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace, which he returned immediately. It felt so good to have him close to you again, his fingers running soothingly along your back as you could feel his elevated heartbeat pounding in his chest.

“You love me?” 

Isaac swallowed, squeezing you tighter and pulling you even closer to him as he steeled himself. “I do,” he said shakily, but the truth of his words was evident in the underlying confidence with which he delivered them, “and I’m sorry I made you doubt that. I’m sorry I pushed you away and dismissed our relationship as a mere work association when it has always been more than that. I— I was scared and I didn’t know what to do after you— after what you did for me and—“

You leaned back enough to meet his gaze. “Can I kiss you?” you asked, longing to do it properly this time, wanting to erase the bitter taste of rejection that had accompanied the feeling of Isaac’s lips on yours.

“Please,” he whispered, inclining his head as you moved to meet his lips.

Suffice it to say, with Isaac lying next to you in his soft double bed — him pulling you close and whispering sweet nothings into the darkness of night as your head rested on his chest and his arms were securely wrapped around you — you fell asleep almost immediately.

Isaac smiled, placing a kiss against the top of your head as he listened to your breathing even out.

Luv luv you

CMON WHERE IS MY DAILY CONSUME OF ISAAC ??? Maybe how they cooked dinner after the confession (part 9) ??? Would be so cute !!!

𝟗𝟏𝟏 / 𝐌𝐫. 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 ♥ 𝘐𝘴𝘢𝘢𝘤

˜”* ❝911, 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ɪꜱᴀᴀᴄ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜰᴜɴ ᴄᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴅɪɴɴᴇʀ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

You waited for Isaac in the kitchen after your… “pledge”. You started questioning why you even did that, considering he wanted you to leave when you’ve done enough work. It didn’t matter though, you were just excited to cook with him in a few minutes.

“Hello.”

You looked up to see Isaac looking at you wearing an apron. 

“An apron? Wow, you’re like a real chef,” You teased.

He chuckled a little before looking around. 

“Y/N, can you get the ginger and garlic?”

You nodded and went to grab the ingredients. 

“Ah, I can’t reach…” You said to yourself.

You looked around to see if there was something you could use to reach. Apparently, you were as discrete as you thought because you heard Isaac laughing.

“You need help?”

“Maybe.”

He grabbed your waist and made sure to get a firm grip on it. Then, he lifted you up so you could reach. 

“Just grab it and tell me when to lower you.”

You nodded. 

“Can you let me down now?”

He lowered you until your feet were on the floor again except, he was still holding your waist. You kind of wanted to say something about it but you didn’t mind this. Plus, you haven’t started cooking yet so it wasn’t like anything was burning. At the same time, you wanted to get this done so he could sleep reasonably tonight. 

“Uh, Isaac?”

“Oh! Sorry.”

He removed his arms from your waist and grabbed the garlic from you. 

“Awe, Isaac, are you blushing?”

He tried to ignore you but you both knew he couldn’t.

“Isaac, don’t ignore me.”

You took a few steps closer to him before your faces were only inches apart. Isaac’s eyes started wondering your face but they kept meeting your eyes and lips. You could tell he was trying to be slick about it but you always notice. 

“We should get star–”

He kissed you before you could even finish. It was warm and sweet. His arms went right back to where they belong, around you. 

“Yeah, let’s get started.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

im sorry its so short omg IM SORRY IVE BEEN BUSY YALL

now that christmas is over,

fuck all three of these characters they make me throw up inside my mouth

Same reaction

the new xanthus audio oh wow

IS IT JUST ME OR IS ZSAKUVA AVOIDING XANTHUS AUDIO ??? ITS BEEN 7 AUDIOS CLOSE TOO 4 MONTHS ??? BRO I NEED HIM LIKE TOO KNOW IF HE DIES OR NOT ???

Reblog if you've ever cried over the death of a fictional character

The Song A Dove Sings

—————————-🧡—————————-

Synopsis: You sing Xanthus a beautiful song; one he won’t forget for as long as he lives.

Warning: Mentions of blood.

———————————🧡——————————

As dawn made way for the morning rise, with the orange, pink and red hues rolling over into a sky blue, your eyelids fluttered open to the golden rays of sunlight poking its way through the curtains, and the gentle chirps of the birds roosting in nearby trees. The rays of sunlight that woven its way through the balcony window painted the room in an ethereal golden glow. You were enveloped in the warmness of the blankets, the strong hold of the man you loved most, and the faint, lingering smell of cologne and coca butter. You focused on the hushed sound of his breathing, and the warm air of his breath dancing on your neck. You looked at his peaceful expression, the way his blonde hair fell messily over his pale face, and those long, beautiful eyelashes that so perfectly complimented those stunning ruby red eyes you’ve adored so much. Like most people, you weren’t a fan of mornings—and it’s not for the typical reasons. Before you and Xanthus found each other, you woke up to a gaping cavity in your heart, suffocated by the air of solitude that filled the room. It didn’t matter how brightly the sun shined, how blue the sky was, or how loudly the birds sang; mundanity always hung above your head like a dark storm cloud. Seeing your partner’s face reminded you that you were not alone anymore. With every rise and fall of his chest, with every hushed breath that entered the atmosphere, you were reminded that your melancholic days were fewer and far in between. And so, with your eyelids getting heavier and heavier, yielding to the gentle call of sleep—you nestled further into the warm embrace of the one you loved most in this world.

Until you heard a familiar cooing sound. A familiar chirp—one that echoed in the air; its sound fluttering through the wind, just like the wings of the bird it belonged to.

A familiar song.

Your eyes popped open—any trace of fatigue and weariness melting away. As much as it pained you leave the serenity of Xanthus’ arms, you had to. So, with a quiet groan and a lot of caution, you slowly crept out of bed and tiptoed to the balcony window. And sure enough, there it was.

A Mourning Dove.

Your stomach swirled with nostalgia, and your chest felt heavy. It had been ages since you saw one, and even longer since you’ve heard its hauntingly beautiful call. As the bird sang, you took a moment to admire its muted colors—its little body covered in beige and light gray hues. The corners of your mouth quirked up fondly as you watched the dove’s chest and throat puff out to make each sound.

“Love?” A groggy voice groaned behind you.

You turned around to see Xanthus sitting upright, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“There’s a mourning dove outside,” you replied.

He got out of bed and walked over to the balcony window.

“Ah. So there is. I haven’t seen one in so long, which makes sense—they aren’t native to the U.K.”

You didn’t answer. You merely watched it sing some more. And although, for a time, the silence between you two was very comforting, you could practically feel Xanthus’ inquisitive gaze.

“I take it that you really like this bird?”

“Yeah. A long time ago, back when I used to live with my parents—a dove that looked just like this one would perch on a ledge outside my window, and sing— once in every blue moon. I know a lot of people think that it sings a sad song, but I never thought so. I always felt comforted, and even a little joyful when I’d hear its song.”

“Is that so?”

You hummed. “I’ve always envied them.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re free; they have peace. I didn’t have that growing up. For my entire life, I was forced to live in fear—always looking over my shoulder, always flinching at every corner. I never let myself fully trust people because I never knew what their true intentions were. It felt like I was…trapped in a cage. And since everyone was out to get me and family, I never really got a chance to actually live my life.”

The cage might’ve been spacious, filled with all the luxuries one could ever ask for—it might’ve been familiar, and full of the people you loved, but…

A cage is still a cage, nonetheless.

“Do you feel free now?” Xanthus asked.

You hummed and rested your head on his shoulder. Dontis was an absolute saint for opening up his home to you two. He’s helped you guys out in more ways in one. You certainly weren’t ungrateful for everything he’s done for you two, but at that point it’d been months since you’ve left his penthouse. Months since you’ve got to try new food, or interacted with new people. Months since you were able to live your life.

Yes, his house was full of luxuriously plush couches, beautiful paintings, and wide flat screen T.Vs, but you still weren’t free. A cage is still a cage. But even after everything you’ve been through, if there was one thing you’d gained—-it was peace. You’ve found peace with Xanthus, and that was enough for now.

“When I die, I think I wanna become a mourning dove.”

Xanthus turned his head toward you. “What?”

“I remember you telling me something about the jokes vampires make when they die. You told me that if you died, you’d come back as a bat. So, I’m telling you now that when I die, I’m gonna come back as a mourning dove. So make sure to keep your ears open;

‘Cause I’m gonna sing you a beautiful song.”

……..

No matter where he went or where he tried to hide, death followed Xanthus everywhere—but it never really bothered him until he met you. Humans lives were fleeting compared to his own, and as fragile as a porcelain tea cup, teetering dangerously on the edge of a high shelf; one nudge away from shattering into numerous irreparable pieces. He never liked thinking about your death, or what’d it be like if you were gone—so he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, and cherished your presence while you were still around.

But ever since you and him had that conversation, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He didn’t stop thinking about it when he held your broken and bloodied body in his arms—your face drained of any color, your eyes dull and lifeless.

He didn’t stop thinking about it as he tore Audric to shreds after what he did to you. He could still feel the warmth of his blood dripping from his fingers.

He didn’t stop thinking about it when he gave your eulogy, or when he and your loved ones walked to the graveyard.

And he most definitely didn’t stop thinking about it when they lowered your coffin 6 feet into the cold, dark ground.

He couldn’t bring himself to leave your grave—even after everyone left. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, or to mutter any sort of apology for getting you into this mess. For being so careless. For being so damn weak. All he could do was sit in front of your grave, with his face buried in his hands, and sob inconsolably. He’d lost the person he was supposed to protect; his lover, a piece of his soul. And now, he felt incomplete—broken, even. So, all he could do was sit there, and cry until there were no tears left to shed.

Until he heard a familiar coo. A familiar chirp.

A familiar song.

He took his face out of his hands, and looked up; the red, bloody tears still streaming out of his wide eyes. And sure enough, there it was, perched on your headstone:

A Mourning Dove.

Its little body was bathed in beige and light gray hues, its throat and chest puffed out as it sang. And Xanthus watched quietly in disbelief until it was over. He reached his hand out, and the dove perched on his finger. And as soon as the bird made contact, he felt it.

It was you.

You came back to say goodbye to him, one last time.

The dove cooed once more, and flew away—the faint flapping sounds of its wings fading further and further away. He watched as the dove flew toward the sky.

You were finally at peace. You were finally free.

——————————-🧡——————————————

A/N: Ever since part 8.1–when Xanthus jokes about dying and being reincarnated as a bat, I couldn’t stop thinking about what kind of animal listener would end up being. I really, really love mourning doves, and I’ve always thought that they’d be a good fit for listener.

— 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫

✧·˚ the few times xanthus and love had some domestic moments together

𝓲.

“so you take the hair and go over and then under, you see?” dontis explains how to do a fishtail braid to you while using himself as a example.

“wow it’s really that simple?” he nods.

“yep it’s best not to over think it, it becomes muscle memory after a while, did you wanna try it for yourself?” you nod excitedly.

“i would love too.”

after a while you feel as though you’ve mastered the braid.

“i like this braid, it’s so simple but it looks so complicated and in turn it’s prettier.”

“i think you’ve perfected the braid now, you’ve been at it for hours and each new braid you make is better then the last.”

just as you finish combing out the braid from dontis’ hair, xanthus walks through the door, no doubt coming back from a fruitless search on some more information about the organization hunting him.

xanthus is clearly exhausted but still walks over to sitting on the couch and places a kiss on your cheek.

“i’ll be in the bedroom read if you need me love.”

you nod and watch him walk quietly to the bedroom. dontis picks up on your concern for him and chimes in.

“i have an idea, why don’t you try out your new braid skills on xanthus hm?”

you practically beam at the idea and thank dontis before quickly leaving to the bedroom. you knock softly on the door before hearing a ‘come in love’ from the other side.

“xanthus could i braid your hair?” you ask as you open the door to him sitting in bed reading a book.

“how many books do you think you’ve read?” you ask focusing on the braid you’re creating with his blonde hair.

“far too many for me to count. love are you sure you want to braid my hair? surely it would be easier to braid dontis’ since his is much longer than mine.”

“you’re probably right and he’d probably make less of a fuss about it.” xanthus looks up from his book, dumbfounded.

“i am not fussy.” he tries to move his head to look at you before you correct his position and he whispers an ‘ow’ as you pull his hair a bit.

“see? fussy.”

xanthus pouts as he hears dontis chuckle from the other room.

“i am not fussy” he mumbles.

you lean down and kiss him gently on the cheek.

“okay you’re not fussy, just pouty.” xanthus grumbles as he lets you continue braiding the short pieces of his hair.

“dontis i think you should let them braid your hair.”

dontis leans against the door frame and smiles.

“who do you think taught them?”

𝓲𝓲.

“what are you doing love?” your fingers light trace over xanthus’ palm lines while you lay in bed with him.

“you’re supposed to be asleep.”

“this one says you’ll live a long life.”

xanthus’ free arm wraps around you to pull you closer to him as he lets you continue reading his palm.

“oh really? what else does it say?” his eyes remain closed as he breathes in your scent before kissing your neck gently.

“does it say you should go to sleep?”

“that’s not how palm reading works you know.” you feel his lips curl into a smile again your skin.

“i know, but you need to get to sleep.” he says before placing a soft kiss on your jawline.

“sleep is so boring, palm reading is so interesting and palm reading a vampire is very interesting, plus i know you like the feeling of my fingers tracing your skin.”

“you little—”

“shit—” you quickly try to scramble away for him but his vampire reflexes are too quick for you and you’re trapped in his arms.

“go to sleep love.”

“do you miss being human?”

the question catches xanthus completely off guard and he has to think about it before he comes up with his answer.

“…yes.” he instinctively pulls you closer to him. “i didn’t before but now that i have you i miss it. i miss the fact i won’t get to grow old with you and that you’ll leave this plane of existence before me and i’ll be left alone.”

his answer stuns you to silence as you let his words sink into your mind. xanthus misses being human because of you. you place your hand over his and give it a light squeeze to reassure him.

“i’m not going anywhere on this plane of existence without you xanthus.”

“i appreciate that love.”

a part of xanthus aches for himself and his love since they’ll never be able to see him grow old. he lays awake most nights wonder if they’re upset at the fact they don’t have a normal partner, that they love a monster. the thought eats away at him constantly and he does his best to repress it, but it’s hard when you can feel what he feels.

“i love you xanthus, i hope you know that i couldn’t ask for a better life partner.”

‘life partner’ what a funny way to describe their relationship.

𝓲𝓲𝓲.

“xanthus how do you even know so much about skincare?”

for the past half hour xanthus and you have been doing skincare to keep the theme of a selfcare day and he has surprised you with knowing much more than you on what and what not to put on your face, he even defined your skin type and the best products for it.

“when you’ve been around as long as i have you pick up on a few things.” he says as he applies a cleanser to your cheeks.

“are the headbands necessary?”

“absolutely, you look adorable— look up for me.”

you sigh and look up so he can apply a cream for your under eyes that seem to grow darker by the day.

“i thought the roles would be reversed for this, you know me telling you what to use on your face.” you say as he finishes smoothing out the product.

“oh please, i don’t age.”

“then how do you—”

“lotion next!”

you smile and shake your head at the quick redirection of the topic.

“i would say with your complexion this will be the best product to use.”

he holds it up to you and you nod in agreement like you have a say in what’s happening. as he applies it you can’t help but stare at the focus on his features, it makes you smile.

“what are you smiling about love?”

“nothing, i just love you.”

xanthus stops his application and kisses you lovingly before pulling away.

“bleh, i think i got some of the toner on your lips and it is not a pleasant taste.”

you lick your lips to see what the fuss is about and you regret it instantly.

“oh bleh that tastes terrible!”

“i told you!”

finally here is some xanthus fluff! i’m not a monster, i love writing fluff but got so many asks for angst so i just did them all at once (YOU GUYS ASKED FOR IT)

this is an apology for what’s to come

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist