#jayzioxreblog

[jayzioxx]

Its me, hi, im the problem its me

these are my mutuals. they know who they are

[jayzioxx]

My meow meow

Isn't he just dreamy!!

[jayzioxx]

Its fine because im anemic im always sleepy w him

you've heard of matching his freak now get ready for matching his eepy sleepy

[jayzioxx]

User mlem0817 i love you so much these little nu nus are my happiness

Mavuinui☀️

[jayzioxx]

The fact that they look so much better like this

Mualani, Kinich, and Kachina with skin tones based on what are as far as I know the peoples they're based on: Native Hawaiians for Mualani, Maya peoples for Kinich, and Pueblo peoples for Kachina. If I made any mistakes please let me know.

[jayzioxx]

Meeeeeow this is the nahida we wanted

genshin archon redesigns from someone thats never played the game before 👽

[jayzioxx]

Thats some level 99 devotion my guy

An attempt to draw his design from memory

[jayzioxx]

WHO ALLOWED U TO WRITE SUCH ANGST??????

Hearbreak Anniversary with Rafayel

Summary: It was your anniversary with Rafayel. One year of togetherness. But what if he does not show up when you expect him to? What if he was spending it with MC? Pairing: Non MC! Reader x Rafayel Note: MC in this fic goes by the name Lina (my name... so if you are angry, you can be angry at me :3). This oneshot was based on this request. I will write this for the other LADS men too. Content Warning: Fear of abandonment, self worth issues, angst, hurt and slight comfort, Rafayel grovelling, Rafayel POV

The soft glow of the sunset filtered through the gauzy curtains of Rafayel’s studio, painting the space in warm hues of gold and orange. The place smelled faintly of him—a mix of turpentine, salt, and the faint trace of his cologne. You had spent hours here today, your hands busy arranging the decorations you’d so carefully prepared for this special occasion. Sea shells, shimmering like iridescent pearls, lined the edges of the room, their opalescent beauty a nod to the ocean he once called home. Candles flickered softly on every surface, their flames dancing to an unseen rhythm. You’d even managed to find strands of silken seaweed and glass ornaments, hoping to evoke the beauty of his heritage, the beauty of him.

Every corner of his art studio had been dusted, tidied, and then transformed with touches of magic, warmth, and care. You even placed the tiny trinkets and mementos you had kept from your shared moments—little souvenirs from your adventures together, knickknacks that held meaning between the two of you. You wanted him to feel at home, to feel the same sense of belonging that you had with him. You even wore your best clothes, the ones he had once complimented.

Today was your first anniversary. The thought alone sent your heart fluttering, and you’d poured all that love into this space, into this moment.

A few months ago he had told you this was just another day for him. A god’s sense of time was different, fleeting, perhaps even insignificant. But to you, it meant everything. It was a celebration of love that had somehow defied the odds—of a mortal heart tangled with one belonging to something far greater. So you ignored the whispering doubts that crept into the back of your mind, choosing instead to focus on trust. Rafayel had chosen you, not her. No matter how many stories tied them together, no matter the whispered inevitability of their connection, he had assured you. It was you he loved now.

But as the hours passed, that fragile trust began to tremble.

You sat in the chair by the window, smoothing down the dress you’d picked especially for today. Time crawled. The soft golden light of day gave way to a dark, yawning sky, and still, Rafayel didn’t come home. The anniversary dinner, meticulously prepared and carefully plated, sat untouched on the table. Each tick of the clock became a cruel reminder of his absence.

Worry gnawed at you. What if something had happened to him? Perhaps the art sale ran late, or he was caught up with his patrons. But he always came back home, right?

Your heart twisted as you reached for your phone, dialing a number you didn’t want to use but needed to.

“Thomas?” you asked hesitantly, your voice trembling.

“Oh, hey,” Rafayel’s manager greeted casually. “Everything okay?”

“Is Rafayel still at the sale?” You tried to keep the panic from seeping into your tone, but the silence on the other end was damning.

“Uh… no, he left hours ago. Said he was going to grab dinner. Lina was with him.”

Your grip tightened on the phone, your knuckles turning white.

Lina.

The name struck like a knife.

“Thanks, Thomas,” you whispered, hanging up before he could ask anything more.

You sat there, staring at the flickering candles, their light casting long shadows across the studio walls. He was with Lina. On your anniversary. You had trusted him, convinced yourself that you were enough despite the insecurities that had clawed at your heart since the day you met him.

But now, they came roaring to life.

You had known, of course, who Lina was. She was the one linked to the sea god, his past, his history—his heart. You tried not to let it affect you, tried to bury the insecurities that rose whenever she came up in conversation. Rafayel always assured you there was nothing between them. But then why was he with her, of all people, on your anniversary?

Tears blurred your vision as your chest tightened painfully. Lina.

She was everything you were not. Strong, beautiful, a part of Rafayel’s past, his first love. How could you compete with that? How could you compete with someone who had shared so much more with him, someone whose bond with him was carved in the very fabric of his existence? She was a part of him, woven into the his story, while you were… just someone who had stumbled into his life, someone insignificant in comparison.

Lina... The woman who was forever tied to his past. The sea god's bride. The one he’d loved for so long, the one who had always been there, time after time. You had told yourself, time and time again, that it was nothing. That Rafayel was different with you. He had assured you that there was nothing between them anymore.

But if it’s nothing, why is he with her now? On our day.

Your fingers trembled as you held the phone to your ear, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to ask any more questions. The answers were irrelevant now. His absence, her presence, they were all you needed to know.

Tears pooled at the edges of your vision before spilling over, streaking your face like tiny rivers tracing paths through dusted cheeks. It wasn’t fair. Nothing felt fair. He had promised you. He had promised. But promises were like ocean tides, weren’t they? Sweeping away whatever they could, leaving only bits of broken shells behind.

Lina was everything you could never be. She was strong, beautiful, powerful—everything that Rafayel deserved. She had the sea god’s heart, had always had it, and here you were, just a fleeting ripple on the surface, barely a mark to him. She was woven into the fabric of his past, his future. What are you to him? What have you ever been?

The memories of your relationship, the quiet moments of closeness, the laughter shared under the soft, flickering light of his candles, all those moments seemed so... fragile now. Fragile and fleeting. You were nobody. Just a distraction, a place holder. Nothing more.

You stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor like the scratch of claws on stone. The studio, his studio, filled with remnants of him, was suffocating. His scent lingered in the air, the faint trace of his cologne mixing with the oils and paints scattered everywhere. His taste still clung to your lips from the last time you’d kissed him, the memories of his touch branded into your skin. It was all too much. Too much. The studio, so full of him, was now a suffocating reminder of what you had lost. You didn’t want to stay. You couldn’t.

You tried to hold the tears back, but it was useless. Every doubt, every fear you’d bottled up over the months came crashing down, drowning you in their suffocating weight.

This wasn’t love. This was a cruel game, one you couldn’t win.

You couldn’t breathe. You had to get out.

Your legs moved before your mind could catch up, carrying you toward the door. The wind hit your face the moment you stepped outside, cool and biting, but it wasn’t enough to quell the storm raging inside you.

You ran.

The streets blurred into one indistinct smear of light and shadow as you ran aimlessly, your feet pounding against the pavement, carrying you farther and farther from that studio. From him.

Eventually, the pavement gave way to sand, and the sharp tang of the ocean filled the air. The moon hung high above, casting a silver glow over the beach. Your chest heaved, your lungs burning as you collapsed onto the sand, letting the waves crash against the shore in a soothing rhythm that mocked your turmoil. You kept running, further and further away from whitesand bay, along the beach.

You stumbled, falling to your knees in the sand, clutching your arms around yourself. Your chest heaved as the tears fell freely, the sound of the ocean mixing with your sobs. Lina. You could picture them together, her hand in his, the same way they had been for so many years before you. The seagulls cried above you, indifferent to your pain. And in that moment, you realized that the world didn’t stop for you. It never had. You stared out at the endless sea, the dark horizon stretching in front of you.

How could I have been so blind?

The waves crashed against the shore, each one louder than the last. You are nothing to him. The thought echoed in your mind over and over, relentless, until you could barely breathe under the weight of it.

And just when you thought the world couldn’t get any colder, the tears started again. They fell freely now, salt mixing with the salt of the sea.

You had wanted to be enough. But maybe that was a joke after all. But even as your body trembled with the weight of the heartbreak, you knew one thing: You could never go back. Not to him, not to that studio, not to any of it. You were just a wave, crashing onto the shore, and he was the sea god.

The night wrapped itself around you like a suffocating blanket. The cold air bit into your skin, but it wasn’t enough to numb the ache clawing at your chest. Each crashing wave seemed to echo the bitter truth you couldn’t escape: you were never going to be enough for him. You curled tighter into yourself, trembling as the tears continued to flow. The sand clung to your dress, to your damp hands, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The world had narrowed to the storm raging inside you—a tempest of betrayal, doubt, and misery.

The sharp chill of the ocean breeze whipped your hair against your tear-streaked face, but it was nothing compared to the icy grip of despair coiling around your heart. Every promise he’d made, every word of reassurance, felt like shards of glass now, cutting into the fragile hope you’d built. The waves surged closer, the cold spray dotting your skin. Your sobs mixed with the crashing tide, swallowed up by the vast, indifferent sea.

You hugged yourself tightly, your body shaking as the cold seeped deeper into your bones. Yet, you stayed there, rooted to the spot, as if the ocean could somehow wash away the ache inside you. But no wave could reach that far, no tide could touch the place where your heart ached. You wanted to scream, to shout at the world for the injustice of it all, but the air in your lungs wouldn’t let you. You were too small for this world, too insignificant for him. You would never be the sea. You were just a small wave, lost in the expanse of the tide.

Rafayel’s POV

The door to the studio swung open, and Rafayel stepped inside, laughter trailing after him. “You should’ve seen the look on that shopkeeper’s face when I said we’d take both cakes,” he said, his voice warm and light. He turned to Lina, who chuckled softly as she followed him, holding one of the carefully boxed pastries. “He probably thought we were insane.”

Rafayel kicked the door shut behind him, balancing his own box of confections, his grin still in place. “I can’t wait to see my cutie’s face when she tries these. She’s going to love them.”

But the moment his gaze swept across the room, his laughter faltered and then stopped entirely.

The studio was transformed. Soft candlelight flickered, casting golden hues across the walls. Seashells glimmered like scattered pearls, carefully arranged along the edges of the space. Strands of delicate seaweed draped like garlands, their green silkiness catching the light. Trinkets, small but unmistakably meaningful, dotted the surfaces—each one an ode to moments he had shared with you. The table was set with plates of untouched food, lovingly prepared, and the air held a faint, tantalizing aroma that now felt unbearably heavy.

He froze, the pastry box slipping slightly in his grip. His throat tightened as his eyes roved over every detail, taking in the love and care you had poured into the space. The decorations, the mementos, the effort—it was overwhelming.

“Rafayel?” Lina’s voice broke through the silence. She stepped forward, her brows knitting in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” His voice cracked, and he set the box down on the nearest surface with trembling hands. “I fucked up,” he whispered, barely audible. His fingers grazed one of the seashells, its surface smooth and cool. He trailed his hand over a string of seaweed, the soft texture almost mocking him. “I fucked up bad.”

Lina’s concern deepened. “What are you talking about?”

Rafayel turned toward her, his expression stricken. “The anniversary. Our anniversary. It slipped my mind.” His voice was a low, shaky whisper as he glanced back at the table, the untouched plates, the flickering candles. “She did all of this… for me. For us.”

He called out your name, his voice echoing through the space. “Are you here? Cutie?” His steps quickened as he moved through the studio, searching. The bathroom. The bedroom. The small corner where you sometimes curled up to read. “Are you asleep?” he called, though he knew better. Each empty room was another blow to his gut.

Panic clawed at him as he returned to the main room, his gaze darting to the table again, the small trinkets, the soft glow of candles still burning. The room felt haunted, filled with the ghost of your hope and effort.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair, gripping it tightly. He grabbed his phone and immediately dialed Thomas.

“Thomas, did she—did she say anything to you? Did she mention where she might go?” Rafayel’s voice was taut with desperation.

Thomas hesitated. “She called me earlier. She asked if you were still at the sale. That’s all she said.”

The weight of Thomas’s words slammed into Rafayel like a wave. You’d called, searching for him, only to learn the truth he had tried to ignore. It had slipped his mind completely. He didn’t know you were setting all of this up. For him. For the both of you.

“Thanks,” Rafayel muttered, ending the call and immediately dialing your number. He paced the studio, his heart racing as the line rang once… twice… three times—

And then he heard it. The faint buzz of your phone, abandoned on the sofa near the window.

“Shit!” Rafayel cursed, grabbing the device and staring at the darkened screen as if it could offer him answers. “Shit, shit, shit!”

He collapsed onto the chair you had once sat in, his head in his hands. Where were you? His gaze drifted to the table again, the untouched dinner, the carefully arranged decorations.

How could he have been so blind? So careless? You had given him everything, and he… he had been too wrapped up in himself, too foolish to see what truly mattered.

Lina hesitated before taking a few careful steps toward Rafayel, watching his every move with growing concern. She’d never seen him like this before. His usual confident, almost cocky demeanor had vanished, leaving only raw distress in its place. He sat slumped in the chair, his phone clutched tightly in his hands, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath.

"Rafayel..." she began softly, her voice gentle but concerned. "What’s going on? What happened?"

Her hand brushed against his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, but the instant her fingers made contact with his skin, he flinched as though struck. His body jerked back, his eyes flashing with something wild—something dangerous.  His eyes, usually a mischievous swirl of pink and blue, flared into a startling, unearthly bright blue before he clenched them shut, his jaw tightening.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice hoarse as he pulled away, his fists curling. “Lina, I—sorry. I didn’t mean to—” He forced himself to inhale deeply, reigning in his emotions as the scales receded and his eyes returned to their usual hue. “I’m fine,” he lied, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. “I just... I need to find her.”

Lina’s hand hovered uncertainly before falling back to her side. “Rafayel,” she began gently, “her phone’s here. Her purse. Even her car keys. Where could she have gone?”

“I don’t know,” he snapped, the sharpness in his voice born of self-directed frustration. “And that’s what’s driving me insane.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots as if the pain could ground him. “She’s out there somewhere, without her coat, without her phone... and it’s freezing tonight.”

Lina straightened, crossing her arms. “Then let me help—”

“No.” His interruption was immediate, his tone brooking no argument. He turned to her, his expression pained but resolute. “This is my fault. I need to fix this myself.”

“But—”

“Please, Lina,” he cut in, softer this time. “If she’s out there, you’ll hear from me. Just… if you see her, let me know. But I have to do this alone.”

After a long, hesitant pause, Lina relented, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Fine. But don’t do anything reckless. I’ll keep my eyes open and let you know if I find anything.”

Rafayel nodded, murmuring his thanks before grabbing his coat and storming out into the night.

The cold air bit at his face as he ran through the streets, his breath forming short puffs in the frigid night. He clutched his phone tightly, the screen glowing as he swiped to a recent photo of you, showing it to every passerby he stopped.

“Have you seen her?” he asked a bewildered man on the corner. “This woman? Please—it’s urgent.”

The man shook his head, muttering an apology before hurrying off. Rafayel grit his teeth, suppressing the wave of panic threatening to consume him. Where are you?

The thought repeated like a drumbeat as he made his way to the beach. The icy wind off the water made him shiver, but he pressed forward, searching desperately. He called your neighbor, pacing along the shoreline as he waited for an answer.

The voice on the other end was soft, a little worried. “No... the lights are off. The door’s locked. I haven’t seen her since this afternoon.”

His heart skipped a beat, the silence that followed pressing like a weight on his chest. Where were you? Where could you have gone? You were working so hard fore him, for the both of you since the afternoon and he wasn’t even there to experience it with you together. He could imagine it, the smile on your face as you placed those shells, the excitement in your movements as you cooked his favorite food. His eyes darted to the horizon, a dark line of water stretching out before him, and his legs moved faster, pushing him toward the shore, toward the place where you sometimes went to escape.

The beach was empty when he arrived, the wind biting at his skin, the waves crashing softly against the sand. He scanned the shoreline, dread filling him as he searched. There was no sign of you, but his heart refused to let go of the hope that you might be here.

He walked for what felt like hours, the weight of the cold creeping into his bones as the night deepened. The autumn air turned chillier, the first hints of winter brushing against his skin. You hadn’t taken your coat. You hadn’t taken anything. What was he thinking? You’d never leave without saying something. So why was he—

His breath hitched as his gaze landed on something ahead. A small lump on the sand.

His heart stopped, the world narrowing down to that single, fragile form crumpled against the cold ground.

“No!” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. He ran towards you, his legs moving faster than they ever had before, fear propelling him forward. His feet barely touching the ground as he pushed forward, his every step frantic. He reached you within seconds, his pulse hammering in his ears. He knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he gently touched your shoulder.

“Cutie?” he called, his voice cracking. His knees hit the sand as he reached you, and his heart twisted painfully at the sight. You were curled in on yourself, your arms hugging your knees, your face hidden. Tear tracks glistened on your cheeks, even in the dim moonlight, and your body trembled from the cold.

“Shit,” Rafayel hissed, his voice barely a whisper as panic surged again. You were cold, so cold. Damp from the wet sand, your skin pale as if the very life had been drained from you. He pulled off his jacket, draping it around you as gently as he could, his hands still shaking.

Why didn’t I see it? Why didn’t I see how badly she needed me?

He slid his arms around you, his heart aching as he pulled you into his lap, cradling you as though you might break into a thousand pieces. He brushed the strands of hair from your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he whispered your name over and over, praying that you would wake up. That you would hear him. “Fuck,” he breathed, feeling a wave of guilt crash over him. “What did I do? What the hell did I do…”

But he couldn’t. Not now. Now, all he could do was hold you, his arms wrapping around you protectively as he rocked gently, trying to warm you, trying to make everything okay.

“I’m here, okay? I’m here. I’m so sorry, cutie.” he whispered, his voice breaking. His mind raced, but nothing could erase the hollow ache in his chest. The thought of losing you, of failing you—he couldn’t bear it. He wouldn’t. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, the words tumbling from him like a confession he had never intended to make. “I’m so sorry. I fucked up. I messed this up, I—I’m here now.”

He clutched you tighter, trembling with the weight of his regret. The wind cut through the beach, but he barely noticed, too consumed by the sight of you—so still, so fragile, in his arms. His mind raced, scrambling for something, anything, to fix this

Your eyes fluttered open weakly, barely meeting his. You were too exhausted to respond, your body utterly spent.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice unsteady as he gently tucked his coat tighter around you. “I’ve got you. I’m so sorry.” His thumb brushed the tear-streaked curve of your cheek, his chest aching at the evidence of your heartbreak. “You shouldn’t be out here. It’s too cold...not like this. Not alone,” Rafayel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His hands trembled as he tried to warm you, his arms sheltering you from the relentless chill of the wind. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve—” He broke off, his throat tightening painfully. Words felt so useless now, but he couldn’t stop them. He needed you to know. “I’m the biggest idiot in the world. I forgot something so important, something that should’ve been at the center of my mind.” His arms slipped beneath you, lifting you effortlessly despite your protests—if there were any.

Your lips moved faintly, but the sound was lost in the cold wind. He leaned closer, his ear near your mouth. “What is it? I’m here. Please... say something.”

“I thought... maybe you'd care,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. The words struck him harder than any physical blow ever could. He felt the sting in his chest, his breath hitching as guilt twisted the knife deeper.

“I do care!” he exclaimed, his voice desperate. “More than anything. I was just... I was so caught up in everything else, and I—I didn’t realize how much you needed me. How much you’ve always been there for me. I messed up, cutie. I know I did.”

You shivered against him, and he shifted to shield you better from the biting wind. “Let me take you home,” he pleaded, his voice softer now. “We’ll fix this. I’ll fix this. I’ll make it right, I swear.”

For a long moment, you didn’t respond, and his heart hammered in his chest. Finally, you gave the faintest of nods, your head resting against his chest. You shivered in his arms, your eyes fluttering shut again, too drained to muster a response. Panic surged in Rafayel as he felt how cold your skin was against his. He shifted, standing with you carefully cradled in his arms, his coat wrapped tightly around you.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he pleaded, his voice urgent but soft. “I need you to hold on, okay? Just a little longer. Let’s get you somewhere warm.” He pressed his cheek to your temple for a moment, as though the simple touch might reassure you—and himself—that you were still here with him.

Rafayel didn’t waste a second. He scooped you up gently, careful not to jostle you. The warmth of his jacket wrapped around your frame and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat seemed to soothe some of the tension in your body. He murmured quiet reassurances as he carried you, his voice a constant presence in the cold, empty night. His normally cocky demeanor had shattered into shards of raw vulnerability, replaced by a frantic urgency to get you home—his home. Your breathing was shallow, your limbs slack in his hold, and every uneven step he took felt like walking a tightrope with everything he valued most precariously balanced in his grasp. He adjusted his hold, cradling you tighter against his chest. “Look, I know I’m an idiot sometimes. Fine, most of the time,” he admitted, his words a jumble of nervous energy and shaky humor. “But this isn’t the time to prove me wrong, alright? Just hang on a little longer. I’m taking you home.”

By the time you reached the studio, the candlelight had dimmed, but the room still held the warmth of the love you had poured into it. Rafayel carried you inside. By the time he reached the threshold of his room, his shirt clung to him, drenched from sweat and your tears. He nudged the door open with his shoulder, careful not to jostle you, and hurried inside.

The room was cold and dimly lit, the heater long dormant. He set you down on the bed, fumbling with the blankets to cocoon you in their warmth. Your body trembled, and his chest constricted as he watched you stir faintly before slipping deeper into unconsciousness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, barely audible at first, as if the walls themselves might condemn him. Then louder, more desperate, his voice cracking. “I’m so damn sorry. I was stupid—so, so stupid. I should’ve seen this coming. Should’ve kept you safe. Should’ve—” He stopped himself, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to stifle the sob building in his throat. His eyes flickered between his usual hues and that unearthly blue every now and then.

His hands hovered over your face, fingers trembling as he brushed damp strands of hair from your skin. “You’re too good for me, you know that? Too good for someone who screws up as much as I do. But I promise—” His voice broke, the words spilling out in a frenzied rush. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. Il love you, cutie. I love you so much.” And then, because even in his rawest moments he couldn’t help himself, he added with a weak, self-deprecating chuckle, “I am lucky I’m this charming, or I don’t think you’d ever put up with me.”

He turned on the heater, pacing back and forth as he muttered under his breath, berating himself in every way he could think of, his brattiness peeking through as he cursed the broken world that had led to this moment. He glanced at you repeatedly, as if reassuring himself you hadn’t vanished, that you hadn’t slipped through his fingers.

When you stirred, your eyelids fluttering open, he froze mid-step. His usual confident smirk was gone, replaced by wide, guilt-stricken eyes. “You’re awake,” he blurted, his voice filled with relief but tinged with apprehension. “I know I screwed up,” he admitted quietly, his lips brushing against your temple. “But—seriously, who let you do this to yourself, huh? Oh wait, that’s me. Fantastic job, Rafayel. Bravo.” He huffed out a shaky laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sitting at your bedside. The words spilled out before he could stop them, over and over again. “I’m so, so sorry. This—this isn’t how it was supposed to go. You’re supposed to be mad at me, not like this. Not…” His voice cracked, and he scrubbed a hand down his face, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Then, almost instinctively, the mask of bravado slipped back into place. “But, hey, look at you, stealing my bed like it’s your right. I mean, sure, I offered, but still.” His smirk faltered, his voice softening. “You better not make a habit of this, you know? Making me worry this much.”

You shifted, your eyelids fluttering completely open, and the sight of your weary gaze meeting his nearly unraveled him.

“Raf?” Your voice was weak, barely audible, but it was enough to snap him upright.

“Hey, you’re awake!” He forced a grin, though it couldn’t hide the guilt pooling in his eyes. “Good, because I was just about to start serenading you with an apology song. Don’t ask for a refund… the lyrics are terrible.”

You tried to sit up, but he was on you in an instant, gently pressing you back down. “Whoa, whoa, no sudden moves, alright? Just... stay put for once. Let me handle it for a change.”

"Handle what?" you asked, your voice edged with exhaustion and confusion.

His grin wavered, giving way to something more honest, more afraid. “Everything. All of it. I... I screwed up, okay? I’m the idiot who let you get like this, who didn’t see—who didn’t stop—” His words tangled, and he exhaled sharply. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry, and I’ll keep saying it until you believe me. Or, you know, until you tell me to shut up. Whichever comes first.”

Your lashes fluttered weakly again, and a barely audible sound escaped your lips. “...Rafayel...?”

His heart soared and broke all at once at the sound of your voice. “I’m here,” he said quickly, leaning closer so you could hear him clearly. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Tears welled in his eyes as you looked up at him, your gaze heavy with exhaustion and something he couldn’t quite name—hurt, maybe, or disappointment. It cut him deeper than any blade ever could.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice a choked whisper. “I know that doesn’t fix this, but I swear, I’ll spend every moment making it up to you if you let me.”

For a moment, silence hung between you, broken only by the hum of the heater and the soft whistle of the wind outside. Finally, you whispered, your voice trembling, “I waited...”

“I know,” he whispered, his tears falling freely now. “You shouldn’t have had to. You deserve better than that, better than me—but I’m begging you, please give me another chance. Don’t give up on me yet.”

Finally, your voice, though weak, broke the quiet. “You forgot... something that meant so much to me.”

Rafayel’s throat tightened, but he nodded, accepting your words. “I know. And I’ll spend as long as it takes to make it up to you. I’ll show you how much you mean to me. I love you,” he whispered against your skin, the words soft but raw with sincerity. “More than anything. More than I can even say. I don’t deserve you, but… please, let me try. Let me make it up to you.”

“Don’t leave me,” he repeated, his voice a breathless whisper, “Not like this.” His voice cracked on the last word, and for a moment, you could see the mask slip—just for a second. Rafayel was scared. Scared of losing you. Scared of failing you. It was the one thing he had never let you see, the one thing he kept locked away in the deep recesses of his heart, but now, it was clear as day.

As you looked at him, something shifted between the two of you—an understanding, perhaps. You could see his desperation, the way he clung to the edges of his composure, trying to hide the vulnerability he never allowed anyone to witness.

I thought... I thought this was everything I could give. Everything I could be..." your own voice cracking.

He shook his head again, his grip never loosening. “You’re so much more than all of this. I’ve been blind, cutie. And now I can see it—see you.” He gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as if to erase every doubt that had taken root there. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for making you feel invisible.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, the tears still staining your face, but the weight of his words was a strange kind of relief. He was here. He saw you now. The storm of emotions inside you hadn’t dissipated, but his presence, the raw sincerity in his voice, made you feel something close to safety.

Rafayel kissed your forehead softly, the gentle pressure of his lips a tender promise. “I’m here, cutie. And I’ll do everything I can to make this right. You won’t feel invisible again.”

You nodded slowly, the tears still flowing, but there was a flicker of hope, however faint. "Just... don't forget again," you whispered.

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice firm, but his eyes were full of vulnerability. "I won’t. Never again."

You didn’t respond immediately, your eyes closing as if you were too weary to respond. But when Rafayel reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, a faint squeeze answered him. It wasn’t forgiveness, not yet, but it was enough—a thread of hope that he clung to with everything he had. For now, you didn’t pull away, and that was a start.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

[jayzioxx]

I love freaky fluffy guy

I'm officially in LaDS swamp make way for my ffg (freaky fluffy guy)

[jayzioxx]

THISSSSSSSSS OMG

˗ˏˋ ꒰ KEDEHARA KAZUHA ꒱ ˎˊ˗ samurai love..

soft bf!kazuha/fem!reader

warnings ★ — none<3 just fluff, healthy relationship,today without fucky fucky my dears!!! 🌹 a/n ★ — damnn, Kazuha is such a comfort character..how I adore him,I want to rip off the hands of some writers who write dirty smut about him help

1.369 words

༊*·˚ Kazuha's sensuality is unlikely to be surpassed by anyone. the guy is so full of harmony with the world around him that looking at his peaceful face, blown by the autumn breeze, brings you immeasurable pleasure. his hands, skillfully holding the blade, eyes, beautifully harmonizing with the red strand, a smile, so light - you loved to stare for hours at the samurai, who became happier from this, as well as from any other thing connected with you.

༊*· ˚Kazuha thoroughly prepared his confession to you, not wanting improvisation and mistakes. in his opinion, confession is a gift from his heart, which must be light, like leaves flying from a branch.

"I've long wanted to show you the sea," - Kazuha began with a smile, not taking his eyes off you, - "but you are silent, you don't like the landscape?"

your excitement did not escape the man who feels too well. you deny it, but the samurai comes closer, continuing to examine you.

"I hear your heart louder than the murmur of the shore. It screams about feelings," - he whispers thoughtfully and, without waiting for your answer, gently takes your hand and puts it to his chest, in which the heartbeat was echoing at a frantic pace, - "I feel it too."

༊*·˚ From the beginning of your relationship, the samurai was not shy about talking about feelings and showing them, on evening walks along the harbor he liked to squeeze your hand tighter, telling another haiku about love. In addition, Kazuha sometimes shared with you stories from the past, when he had not yet escaped from Inazuma. But he loves listening to you much more - your voice is louder for him than the rustle of crimson leaves on the trees.

༊*·˚ Kazuha likes it when you carefreely ask to comb his blond hair and braid his ponytail. at such moments he closes his eyes and smiles involuntarily, melting in your arms.

༊*·˚ he loves to hug you tightly, quietly muttering about your tenderness. his favorite part of the body is the collarbone, the guy often runs his fingers over them, and then kisses them weightlessly.

there is no hint of rudeness or lust in his actions, his love is sublime. kisses on the lips are rare for you, most often Ronin limits himself to the temples or forehead, and for you he specially offers his cheek.

༊*·˚ once he caught a yellowed, but neat leaf flying from a branch and without unnecessary words carefully wove it into your strand of hair near your ear, smiling relaxedly. it is sometimes difficult to understand his actions, Kazuha often reasoned differently from other people, but this only made you fall in love more and more with each passing day.

༊*·˚ quarrels with him are impossible. the young man, seeing your gloomy face, does not avoid problems, but tries with all his might to calm you down, creeping his fingers into your hair and stroking your head.

[jayzioxx]

I swear i love this blog so much it feeds my delusions more than any hope of getting into SNU or tokyo uni

Jumping to Conclusions

Lads men seeing wedding stuff on your moments post and proceeding to overreact

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by simonesays, talkthat_tara, liiisa_ and 287k others

misshuntermc: It’s like stepping into a fairytale 🧚✨

tagged: simonesays, talkthat_tara, liiisa_

comments

liiisa_: everything was so pristine I felt like I shouldn’t touch anything 🤣

↳ misshuntermc: Girl me too I was afraid to drink anything other than water ☠️

talkthat_tara: the dresses were so pretty omg

↳ misshuntermc: is this what Cinderella felt like??

simonesays: too many choices 😵‍💫

↳ misshuntermc: time to make a pros and cons list

whosjeremiah: can I be the florist????

nene.nero: I call flower boy duties!

[jayzioxx]

I will admit, i only write x reader fics because of 1) clout and 2)i cant find names for ocs and im too lazy to character design

Cuz i cant sleep... some slight angst following up this and this fic isn't the follow up from the poll im just sleep deprived and sad

Also WARNINGGG ooc soft emotionally ✨️mature✨️ wanderer~

Wanderer who tries to atone for his past sins realized how much he's broken [name] throughout the years. [Name] who was undeniably loyal and trustworthy, [name] who nearly gave his life away to help him reach godhood.

"You..." Wanderer muttered as he looked at [name] who was fast asleep on the sofa in his living room. He wondered if he should bring a blanket to cover that scrawny, malnourished body resting so peacefully, but he couldn't take his eyes off the bruises, cuts, and old battle scars littering the skin of those once strong limbs.

"Idiot. Nothing would have changed even if you died for me." He thought. And he was so glad that didn't happen. He couldn't have lived with himself if he caused pain for another he loved.

Wanderer's cold fingers traced around a healing wounds on [name]'s face, which was one of the many he'd gained during his final battle fought as the right-hand man of a fatui harbinger, likely from when he foolishly intercepted the rough attacks from the traveler just to buy some more time for Scaramouche.

Wanderer absentmindedly continued to carass his scarred skin, not noticing how [name] was waking from his afternoon nap.

"Sorry." He croaked, bringing a thin hand up to rub his tired eyes. "It was warm. I didn't mean to fall asleep here."

Wanderer felt a pang through his heart (despite not having one). He'd gained a lot of emotions and grew to feel things during the months he spent under Nahida and at the akademia, but [name] had only spent 3 days in this new setting after roaming around homeless for so long.

Wanderer didn't realize how lucky he was in that aspect, for being given a chance to overcome his past when his counterpart was suffering the entire time.

"Lord Scaramou- Forgi- Sorry, Wanderer." [Name] spoke, stuttering to correct his words as he was still struggling to adapt to his new life. "You were zoning out."

He was. He only noticed how much he had been thinking over things when [name] pointed it out.

[Name] was still laying on his side on the sofa with Wanderer's hand on his cheek, staring at Wanderer's face with his sleepy eyes.

The puppet moved his hand from [name]'s face to his back to gently help him sit up. Truth be told, Wanderer was scared. The man in front of him was far too thin and far too weak. Almost to the point he would fracture at a light breeze.

Without a word, Wanderer got up and went to make some tea, and the other sat perfectly still, eyes unmoving, not even turning his head. He almost seemed like a porcelain doll.

When Wanderer got back, [name] sat in the same position he had been, faced the same direction, with only his eyes following the one who had just come back from the kitched and placed a warm cup of tea in his hands.

"He's like a doll." Thought Wanderer, which only made him feel more upset. He knew he shouldn't be frustrated, that he was the one responsible, but he just wished that [name] would at least move his head a bit more, or maybe shift in his seat. Act a bit more alive.

Or, at the very least, not act like he was living dead.

"Hey." Wanderer said, carefully choosing his words and speaking as gently as he could. [Name] had a slightly uncomfortable look on his face, seemingly confused with how to respond.

"You can respond however you'd like to. Or dont if you don't feel like it." Wanderer spoke softly, noting [name]'s discomfort. [Name] just smiled, a bit relieved. He found it a bit strange to see Scaramouche so... kind.

"I'm not Scaramouche." Wanderer said. He looked apologetic.

"I won't be either." He felt like his words didn't get through to [name], but the sunken look on [name]'s face told him how much impact his words had.

"I'm sorry." He finally apologized. He didn't exactly understand why he was apologizing, all he knew was that there was a lot to say sorry for.

"If you're not him, then why are you apologizing."

[Name]'s words stung like salt on a fresh wound.

"Because I stopped being him without considering you."

Wanderer couldn't stop the bitter tears falling from the other's eyes. He seemed to have a knack for making him cry. Scaramouche's strongest general and the broken human marionette wanderer picked up.

"I'm sorry for how I used you."

...

"I'm sorry for how it broke you."

...

"I'm-" Wanderer choked."...I'm sorry for not telling you I loved you when it mattered the most."

He wasn't crying. He had much better control over his feelings than [name]. But being unable to stop [name]'s tears made him feel as helpless as he felt when he was first abandoned.

The tea had become cold and untouched, and Wanderer gently took the teacup from the other one's hands and placed it aside, engulfing him in as warm a hug he could provide. [Name] too allowed his skinny frame to be held as he quietly sniffled.

For the first time in a long, long time, both Wanderer and [name] felt as normal and human as the rest.

Meanwhile nahida accidentally spying on then through whatever weird magic she's got crying her eyes out with kaveh who's crying cuz he saw nahida crying so now the two of them dont know why the other is crying and they're crying togerther because of that.

Al haitham in the back wondering what the 🦆is going on...

[jayzioxx]

Reblogging because i also become sad when my fav is the one with the least attention

I have to admit that I'm kind of sad that from my (for now) 3 Wanderer x Reader Fics Rock Rose is the one with less attention when it's one of my faves...

Link: archiveofourown.org/works/58677043

I loved writting it a lot because it used it as an excuse to write about how much I love the Scarameow plushie and turned into that...

My beloved little meow meow ✨️

[jayzioxx]

Sobs

Headcanon: Heizou with a Criminal S/O

Heizou is instantly captivated by you, not just because of your charm but because of the mystery surrounding your criminal background. He’s fascinated by how someone so clever and cunning managed to evade detection for so long. It’s a puzzle he can’t resist solving.

Heizou enjoys teasing you about your criminal activities. He’ll throw in comments like, “I bet you thought you could outsmart the great Detective Shikanoin, didn’t you?” or “You’re lucky I’m on your side—or am I?” His playful banter is a way to keep things light between you, though he’s always aware of your capabilities.

Despite your past, Heizou respects your intelligence and resourcefulness. He knows it takes a sharp mind to pull off some of the things you’ve done, and he can’t help but admire that. In return, you respect his detective skills, even if they sometimes clash with your lifestyle. There’s an unspoken acknowledgment of each other’s talents.

As much as Heizou enjoys the thrill of being with someone like you, he’ll often try to steer you away from trouble. “I know you’re tempted, but maybe stay clear of any big heists tonight?” He’s always looking out for you, even if he knows you might not always listen.

Sometimes, it’s hard to tell whether you and Heizou are playing a game of cat and mouse or if you’re genuinely in a relationship. He’ll often joke about how he’s going to “catch you in the act” one day, but there’s always a playful tone behind it. You both thrive off the tension and excitement this dynamic brings.

While Heizou might not completely condone your actions, he won’t harshly judge you for them either. If he finds out you’re planning something, he’ll simply say, “I’d hate to see you get caught—by someone other than me, that is.” His subtle warnings are his way of showing he cares about your safety.

Sometimes, Heizou will consult with you on cases he’s working on. He knows your background gives you a unique perspective on crime, so he values your input. “If you were in their shoes, how would you have done it?” It’s a strangely intimate bond, discussing how to outsmart criminals while you were once one yourself.

Despite being on opposite sides of the law, there’s a deep understanding between you two. Heizou knows that your criminal past doesn’t define you entirely, and you know that his work as a detective doesn’t mean he’ll betray your trust. There’s a delicate balance in your relationship that both of you respect.

Heizou is fiercely protective of you, especially when your past catches up to you. If you’re ever in danger or targeted by other criminals, he won’t hesitate to step in. “I might let you get away with a lot, but no one messes with you on my watch,” he’d say, standing between you and the threat.

Being with Heizou is never boring. The mix of your criminal tendencies and his detective instincts keeps the relationship exciting and full of adrenaline. Whether you’re teasing him with near-miss confessions or helping him solve cases, there’s always a sense of thrill between you two.

If you ever manage to get away with something suspicious, Heizou will have fun interrogating you—half-seriously, half-jokingly. “So, where were you last night? And why do I have the feeling you’re not telling me everything?” His sly smile betrays that he’s more amused than actually suspicious.

Heizou might be a detective, but when it comes to you, he’s willing to bend the rules. If you’re ever caught up in something risky, he’ll do what he can to keep you out of trouble—even if it means covering for you. He trusts that you won’t put him in a compromising position, and that trust is key to your relationship.

The dynamic between you and Heizou is a constant push and pull. He’s always trying to keep you on the straight and narrow, while you’re always testing the limits of what you can get away with. It creates a playful tension that keeps the relationship exciting.

Despite your past, Heizou never forces you to change or stop being who you are. He respects your independence and understands that you won’t give up your lifestyle entirely. Instead, he works with you to find a balance—where you can still be you, but without causing too much trouble.

When things are calm, and it’s just the two of you, Heizou will occasionally open up about his fears. He worries about the risks you take and confides in you about how he wants you to be safe. “I just don’t want to lose you to something stupid,” he’d admit, his usual carefree demeanor replaced by a rare moment of vulnerability.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[jayzioxx]

Its a xiao fic but scara has me cackling LMAO i love him 😭😭

HAUNTED

Chapter 2: Not what it seems

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: Fun fact i actually did get 54 tardies my junior year of high school lmfao 😭 The lore to this smau begins now 😈

Synopsis: Friends start their first year at Teyvat University. The school that is known for its paranormal activity. The group doesn’t truly believe the rumors until they start to experience how frightening the school can be. What happens when the friend group investigates the truth of the hauntings?

Taglist: @morgyyyyyyy @state-of-grac3 @trulyylee @jellichuu @practicoi @yuminako @eyshamuun @kuniz-darlingg @heartsforni-ki @lalalaloveallmydays @animeobsessed56 @samyayaya @lloovvv @adepticiaoo @cherrysnows @miisamores @strayharmony943 @xionri @kazumiku @bethleeham @sukisprettyface @jayzioxx @kaikaidenkai @js-a-silly-little-guy @jiminscarmex @i-am-me-and-you @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @brideofbriar @floweringanna @miy-svz @vitanye

[jayzioxx]

What if this exact kazu[name] pair but mdzs au?/hj

I reblog things more than I actually post someting so here's a lil something

Conglomerate!Kazuha and average joe office worker!reader;

First met when [name] was in 1st grade.

[Name] was anxious about his first day of school, and in his little mind, among all those other kids, he was the only one who felt that way!

[Name] didn't exactly go to pre school, it wasn't a legal requirement, so his parents didn't see a reason to send their child to education so early and spent the first few years of [name]'s life making memories with just the three of them.

[Name] wanted to cry when he saw his mummy waving at him with a smile on her face, but he promised her he would have fun at school and a big boy doesn't break promises! So he held back the tears threatening to fall down his chubby little cheeks.

[Name] looked around, trying to find someone to talk to, but everyone already seemed acquainted with each other... Would they be mad if he bothered them? He didn't want to take chances, he'll just figure out the school thing himself! It won't be that hard, right? School was, in fact, not fun. Everyone had friends and seemed to fit in, and [name] was the odd one out. An acorn in a bowl of dog food, a duck among swans, whatever. He missed hiking with his parents and exploring old (publicly available and safe) ruins within the woods (sectioned under the community park).

As lunch time rolled around, everyone ran to play with their friends, and [name] didn't want to stay cooped up inside the classroom either, so he, too, begrudgingly walked outside to at least stare at nothing.

When [name] looked around for a quiet place to sit, a huge tree in the corner of the grass field caught his eye. He ran over to that perfect place he spotted, but as he got close, he noticed another boy, laying down on the grass and observing the sky.

[Name] turned around to quietly leave before the other boy spoke. "Do you want to sit with me?"

[Name] didn't say anything and just looked at the other boy, slightly intimidated. He seemed older. He wanted to say,'It's fine, I won't bother you' but instead blurted out, "Which grade are you in?" filled with embarrassment, he slapped his hands over his face, almost expecting the other boy to be angry, but instead, he just laughed.

"I'm in second grade. Is this your first day?" [Name] nodded and stayed silent.

"If you're alone right now, you can sit next to me. I'm also alone." The older boy said, and feeling a bit more comfortable, [name] sat next to the him.

"What's your name?" He asked from his new found friend. "Kaedehara Kazuha."

It was only in third grade, did [name] find out that Kazuha was in fact not a loner like him, and was very popular.

Went to the same secondary school too.

The hardest year for [name] was his last year of primary school. It's not like he didn't have any friends, but still, his first friend had already finished primary and transferred to another school.

When he finally finished that long year of school and transferred, he was scared. What if he had already found new friends? What if he didn't want to talk with him anymore?

Any thoughts that bothered him quickly vanished as a blonde haired boy came barreling towards him, trapping him in a hug.

"Hello!"

Had to part ways before Kazuha finished secondary school.

At some point, Kazuha just stopped showing up at school, or the library, or the park. It was like he vanished. [Name] tries contacting him, but every time the phone only spoke in its robotic voice,'the number you have dialed is not in service.'

Years passed, and [name] ended up in college. Not a prestigious university or anything, just a community college, got a half decent job with a half decent salary, and continued to stay in the same monotonous office just because the job market was too competitive to find a better job. By then, Kazuha was just a distant memory from a happy childhood.

Met after a team dinner.

[Name] was so dizzy by the time he reached the toilets, barely able to keep himself from puking all over his clothes, but hey! Just because the team leader forced him to drink till dead doesn't mean he should die before washing the damn stench off his clothes. It's not like clothing was getting any cheaper....

[Name], with all the strength he had, kept himself from face planting anywhere till he got to the sink, splashing the cold, surely dirty tap water onto his heated face.

"Fuck this..." was all he could say. Not like he could quit. Or call HR, or beat his loser of a boss dead. He still needed the paycheck and the job.

Every step he took felt like an iron ball was chained to his ankle, oh he was drunk alright. So so drunk and so so annoyed.

He somehow made it out of the crappy restaurant and decided that was enough before letting his jelly legs collapse. Maybe the pavement would be comfortable.

He shut his eyes, expecting to fall face first onto the concrete, yet a strong but slender arm stopping him from toppling over completely.

[Name] turned his head with widened eyes, the face he saw between his hazy vision was all too familiar, yet distant at the same time.

"Am I hallucinating?"

Took a while to get more comfortable with each other.

"You up?" A strangely familiar voice asked as [name] rubbed his temples, barely opening his eyes from the headache crashing into his head.

The smell of coffee radiated throughout the unfamiliar, comfortable room.

"I made you some coffee." The other person said, and only then did [name] snap back into reality. He was in an unknown person's house, in an unknown person's bed, wearing an unknown person's clothes, just the morning after he was drunk to his limits.

"What the hell happened..." he spoke, almost to the stranger, but mostly to himself. He dreamt about seeing the face of an old friend.

"At least look at my face." The man spoke again, and when [name] did look, he didn't think he'd forgive the other one again.

(They did nothing freaks)

Had their ups and downs.

It's been almost a year since [name] reunited with his old friend. A year since Kazuha did everything he could to at least hang out with [name] a bit more. His younger friend was a bit more rough, a bit more ill spoken, and a bit more pessimistic than he remembered. But gosh, was he beautiful.

But when he gets angry... I guess rage is also a beauty?

"And WHEN exactly were you going to tell me?!" [Name] kept a tight pincer grasp on Kazuha's ear as he let out a series of 'ow's.

"Soon-" Kazuha tried to weasle his way out of [name]'s grasp but was cut of swiftly.

"Yeah, and exactly how 'soon' were you going to tell me you partnered with my company's boss, specifically requested creative team B for a task specifically catered to have me work at your company?"

"Soon-! Hey that hurts!" Kazuha complained, trying to put on his best puppy eyes, but alas, it is useless.

"Right, and I'm Elon Musk, your point?" [Name] sighed and continued. "If I didn't accidentally turn to the wrong office I wouldn't have known that was your company in the first place." He raised a brow, finally releasing Kazuha's red ear.

"I can't even get mad at you because you're cute... You're abusing your power..." Kazuha pouted, rubbing his ear.

"YOU'RE the one abusing power here!"

And never confessed to each other either.

Kazuha barged into [name]'s room. The ivory walls and wooden shelves were decorated with a few photos and trinkets to the younger man's liking.

"There's a thing called knocking?" [Name] sassed as he went through a work document before he could hit submit. It's been about a week since [name] moved into Kazuha's apartment (against his will), and Kazuha made it his personal goal to invade [name]'s privacy every few hours with drinks and snacks.

Kazuha placed the mug of coffee on the table as he pressed a quick kiss on the other's cheek before grabbing another chair and sitting beside him.

[Name] suddenly paused his work and took off his reading glasses, placing them on the table. Kazuha, confused, didn't inquire but sightly tilted his head, quite like a bird.

"What are we?" [Name] asked.

"What do you want us to be?"

But still, they love each other.

A/n I'm too lazy to type out the individual headcanons rn. Maybe I'll do a part 2 if yall want me to...

Yeah anyways cringe culture is back and I'm pulling kdrama ceo x poor man gay homosexual uwu fanfiction out my ass. Yay.This one specifically was inspired by every kdrama I've watched and every manhwa I've read