“what Did You Just Say?” | ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡

Can you please write dumb/subtle/random/cute things batboys will do while they are crushing on reader?

♯ FEEL YOUR LIPS CRUSH . . .

— gn!reader, fluff

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

becomes overly observant but awkwardly obvious

bruce wayne is a master of observation—trained to notice the smallest details in a room, a person, or a crime scene. but when it comes to you, this skill becomes more of a curse than a blessing. his crush transforms his usual precision into something downright awkward as he hyper-focuses on the tiniest parts of your life.

it starts innocently enough. you’ll be in the middle of a casual conversation when bruce interrupts, his deep voice breaking through your train of thought.

“you’ve switched your coffee order recently,” he says matter-of-factly, his piercing blue eyes locking on yours.

you blink, momentarily confused. “uh, yeah. i wanted to try something different.”

“it’s good,” he replies, his tone completely serious, as if your new preference for caramel flavored coffee over vanilla is a critical observation.

sometimes his comments catch you so off guard that you don’t even know how to respond. like the time you came into the room wearing a pair of old sneakers. bruce, who was leaning against the kitchen counter sipping his coffee, glanced down and said, “those laces are frayed. you should replace them.”

you laughed nervously, unsure if he was joking. “uh, thanks for the tip?”

but bruce wasn’t joking. “i’ll send alfred to pick up new ones. you don’t want them snapping mid-step.”

he tries to play it cool, he really does, but his constant streak of seemingly random observations only makes his feelings more obvious. one afternoon, you find him glancing at your notebook while you jot something down. without even looking at you, he says, “you press harder with the pen when you’re tired. your handwriting’s smaller today.”

you set your pen down, giving him a skeptical look. “do you . . . keep track of my handwriting, bruce?”

his face doesn’t change, though you swear his ears flush the faintest shade of pink. “no,” he says smoothly, taking a sip of his coffee. “it’s just. . . noticeable.”

it’s the way he says it—quiet and genuine—that sends your heart fluttering. he doesn’t realize how much he’s revealing, but his small, awkward comments and laser focus on the details of your life make it abundantly clear.

the funny thing is, you’re not the only one noticing. alfred, who’s known bruce wayne longer than anyone, often raises an eyebrow or hides a knowing smirk whenever bruce starts one of his “random” observations.

( “perhaps master wayne should focus on his own handwriting.” bruce glares at alfred, but his lack of a comment only makes the butler’s smirk grow wider. )

finds excuses to be helpful

bruce’s wealth is something he wields with the subtlety of a battering ram when he’s crushing on someone. his intentions are good—he genuinely wants to help—but it often comes off as over-the-top or hilariously unnecessary. for someone as logical and composed as the bat, using his money to make your life easier feels like a no-brainer, but he doesn’t realize just how obvious it makes his feelings.

it starts small at first. you might casually mention needing to replace something—your laptop is acting up or your phone is outdated. the next day, without fail, a box will mysteriously appear at your doorstep. inside, you’ll find not just a replacement but the absolute best version of the device, meticulously selected and clearly expensive.

“bruce,” you say, holding up the latest model of a WE laptop you can’t imagine ever affording on your own. “did you do this?”

he looks up from his work, his expression calm and unbothered. “it’s practical,” he says, as if that’s a reasonable excuse for gifting you a piece of technology worth more than your rent. “your old one was slow. it’s inefficient to struggle with outdated equipment.”

when you try to protest, he waves it off, as though spending thousands of dollars on you is no more different than buying a cup of coffee.

but it doesn’t stop there. one morning, you’re sitting in the kitchen with him, absently complaining about how your car keeps breaking down. it’s an offhanded comment, something you don’t think twice about, but bruce takes it as a challenge. by the time you’ve finished your coffee, he’s already pulled out his phone to make arrangements.

“wait,” you interrupt him, narrowing your eyes as you catch him murmuring something to alfred over the phone. “what are you doing?”

“nothing,” he replies too quickly, but later that day, you’re startled to find a sleek new car parked outside your home, the keys and a handwritten note from the butler sitting on your counter.

“bruce!” you exclaim, storming into the study to confront him.

he doesn’t even look up from his computer. “your old car was unreliable. this one is safer.”

“that’s not the point!”

“it’s just a car,” he says with a small shrug, though there’s a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.

despite his attitude, it’s clear he’s putting an incredible amount of thought into everything he does for you. his gestures are less about showing off his wealth and more about making sure you never have to struggle, even in the smallest ways. because to him, it’s just logical—he has the resources, so why wouldn’t he use them to make your life easier?

DICK GRAYSON

finds excuses to touch you

for someone as physically expressive as dick grayson, touch comes as naturally as breathing—but when he’s crushing on you, it’s a whole new level. he’s not even aware of how much he does it at first, but the moments start to add up. it’s little things at first: the way he always seems to find a reason to brush his hand against yours, the casual way his shoulder bumps into you when you’re walking side by side, or the way he’ll lean close when he’s explaining something, his hand ghosting over yours as he gestures.

but then, it becomes less about the accidental and more about the intentional. when you’re sitting on the couch together, he’ll sling an arm over the back of it, his fingers close enough to brush against your shoulder. he’ll offer his hand when you’re stepping out of a car or climbing over something, even if you don’t need it, the contact lingers just a second longer than necessary.

“careful,” he’ll say, his voice soft and teasing, even though the step you’re taking isn’t remotely precarious.

“you know i can walk, right?”

he grins, squeezing your hand briefly before letting it go. “just being chivalrous.”

and then, there are the moments when he gets so wrapped up in the conversation or your presence that he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. like the time you were sitting together, and he absentmindedly started playing with the hem of your sleeve. it wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he looked down, startled, his ears turning pink as he quickly let go.

“sorry,” he mumbled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “didn’t realize i was doing that.”

but the blush on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know.

for dick, touch is a way of expressing what words sometimes fail to say. every hand on your shoulder, every playful nudge, and every lingering hug is his way of saying, i like being near you. i like you. even if he hasn’t quite found the courage to say it out loud, his actions make it impossible to miss.

teases you relentlessly (but gets flustered when you tease him back)

teasing is how dick shows affection, how he keeps things light, and, more than anything, how he tries to get your attention. when he’s crushing on you, though, his teasing takes on a new level. every little thing you do seems to give him material to poke fun at, not in a mean way, but in a way that makes it clear he’s paying attention to everything about you.

if you trip over a word while talking, he’ll immediately smirk. “careful there, shakespeare,” he’ll quip. “do we need to enroll you in a public speaking class?” or if you drop something, he’s ready with a dramatic gasp. “wow, butterfingers, do you need me to carry everything for you? i could be your personal assistant, but i charge by the hour.”

it’s playful, yes, but it’s also consistent. he’s always looking for ways to make you laugh, even if it’s at your own expense. like the time you were struggling to open a stubborn jar of jam, and he swooped in, popping the lid off with ease.

“guess i’m just the stronger one here,” he said, flexing his biceps with an exaggerated grin. “it’s okay; not everyone can have these guns.”

but if you so much as raise an eyebrow or fire back with your own jab, the tables turn in an instant. one day, after he’d spent a full five minutes teasing you about your choice of coffee ( “a triple-shot vanilla latte with almond milk? fancy. are you sure you don’t need a royal escort to carry it for you?” ), you finally snapped back.

“oh, and i suppose you’re the coffee expert, mr. regular black coffee? real creative. i bet the baristas have your order memorized.”

the grin on his face faltered for a split second, his eyes widening just slightly. then came the blush—the faint pink hue creeping up his cheeks as he tried to recover, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“hey, black coffee is . . . classic,” he mumbled, suddenly unable to meet your gaze.

and that’s the thing about dick grayson: as much as he loves dishing it out, he can’t always handle it when it’s directed at him. the moment you tease him back, especially if it’s about something he’s sensitive about (like his perfectly styled hair or his need to one-up everyone), he turns into an awkward, flustered mess.

“you spend how long on your hair every morning?” you asked him once, teasingly ruffling his carefully combed locks after he made fun of the mismatched socks you were wearing.

he froze, his hand shooting up to fix the damage. “it’s not that long,” he protested, his voice defensive but light.

“oh, come on! i bet you use at least three different products. don’t tell me you don’t have a favorite brand of gel.”

his cheeks flushed crimson as he stammered, “i—you know, it’s just . . . maintenance! can’t all of us roll out of bed looking flawless, okay?”

you laughed, and he groaned, muttering something under his breath about how you were “way too good at this.”

JASON TODD

acts nonchalant but is always nearby

jason todd is many things—brash, sarcastic, sometimes even reckless—but when it comes to feelings he doesn’t fully understand, he defaults to keeping his distance . . . or at least pretending he’s keeping his distance. the truth is, when he’s crushing on you, he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame, always finding an excuse to be wherever you are without making it obvious. or so he thinks.

take your quiet sunday afternoons, for instance. maybe you’ve settled on the couch with a book, enjoying the rare peace. jason walks in, all nonchalant, like he’s just passing through. he glances at you—just a quick flick of his eyes, like he’s making sure you’re still there—and then he settles in the chair across from you, a spot he never uses otherwise.

“what are you doing?” you ask, watching as he pulls out a book of his own, the same one he’s been pretending to read for weeks.

he doesn’t even look up. “reading.”

you roll your eyes but say nothing, knowing full well he’s barely getting through a page. you can feel his gaze on you every few minutes, like he’s trying to memorize the way your brow furrows in concentration or how you chew on the corner of your lip when you’re focused. and if you catch him? he quickly snaps his attention back to his book, pretending obliviousness.

“didn’t know you liked this spot so much,” you tease, gesturing to the chair.

a smirk plays on the edge of his lips, though there’s a flicker of defensiveness in his eyes. “what, i can’t sit here now? thought it was a free country.”

it’s always like that—his attempts to mask how much he cares come with a side of sarcasm. but the truth slips through in the little details. like how he never actually leaves the room until you do. or how, even when you’re sitting in silence, he finds a reason to linger. maybe he’s scrolling through his phone, flipping through a magazine, or staring at the ceiling like he’s deep in thought. but really, he’s just soaking in your presence.

and then there are the times when he doesn’t even bother pretending. like when you’re sitting in the kitchen, finishing up some work, and he wordlessly sits down across from you, arms crossed and chin propped in his hand.

“what?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“nothing,” he replies, though the slight curve of his lips gives him away.

it’s not that jason is afraid to admit he likes you ( although there is a possibility he is but we don’t talk about that )—it’s just that he doesn’t know how. so instead, he hovers. he sticks close enough to feel like he’s part of your world but not so close that he risks giving himself away. so while he might act nonchalant, the truth is, he’s anything but. every glance, every lingering moment, every excuse to be near you is jason’s way of saying he cares—he just hasn’t found the words yet.

fixes things you didn’t even know were broken

jason’s way of showing he cares is a little unconventional, but it’s always in the small, unspoken ways. he’s the type to notice things that no one else would—things that have been lingering for ages in the background of your life, just waiting for someone to fix them. but because it’s jason, he’ll never bring it up. he’ll just do it, no questions asked, and then act like it never happened.

it starts with the little things. your chair in the living room? it’s been squeaking for months now, but it’s not something you’ve gotten around to fixing. it’s one of those annoyances you’ve learned to ignore, a piece of background noise that doesn’t really bother you enough to take action.

until one day, it suddenly stops.

you sit down in the chair, and for the first time in ages, it’s silent. your eyes narrow. you didn’t fix this—so who did?

“jason?” you ask, glancing toward him as he lounges on the couch, pretending to be deep in whatever he’s doing.

he doesn’t even look up. “what?”

“the chair. it’s. . . quiet now.”

he pauses for just a moment, but it’s enough to catch the shift in his demeanor. he shrugs, barely concealing the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “must’ve gotten lucky. or maybe it fixed itself.”

you know it didn’t. but before you can press him on it, he’s already back to whatever he was doing, like the whole thing is no big deal. it’s almost as if he’s trying to play it off, hoping you won’t notice that he’s been quietly fixing things in your life, one at a time.

the next thing happens a few days later. you walk into the kitchen, only to find that the light above the sink, the one that flickers every time you try to use it, is now working. perfectly.

you stop, standing in the doorway and just staring at it. there’s no way you fixed it. and it certainly wasn’t broken enough to need replacing. so once again, you turn your gaze to jason, who’s now sitting at the kitchen table, eating a snack and acting entirely uninterested in your investigation.

“jason, did you—?”

“no,” he interrupts and continues watching the video essay he turns on every time he eats.

“uh-huh,” you say, narrowing your eyes, walking toward the light and testing the switch again just to make sure you’re not imagining things. it stays steady, glowing without hesitation.

he’ll never say it out loud, but each fix—each thoughtful act—speaks louder than any words could. the broken things don’t matter, because jason is here, fixing them in his own way, piece by piece.

TIM DRAKE

gets shy when you’re too close

tim drake is usually the picture of composure. he’s calm, collected, and can handle himself in just about any situation, but when you’re too close, all that confidence seems to slip away. it starts small. you’re sitting beside him, maybe sharing a space while working on something, and without thinking, you slide just a little bit closer to him. maybe your arm brushes against his, or your knee nudges his under the table.

it’s enough to throw him off, just for a second. his heart rate picks up slightly, and he tries to hide it behind the screen of his laptop, pretending to focus harder than he really is. but he knows, deep down, that he’s hyperaware of you now—of the way you’re sitting, of the way your presence seems to fill the space between the two of you.

his eyes flicker toward you, but quickly dart away, like he’s afraid you caught him staring. it’s an involuntary reaction, the nervous little shift in his posture as he tries to seem as casual as possible. he clears his throat, his voice slightly quieter than usual. “uh, sorry, was just—just making sure the laptop was charging.”

it’s obvious to you that he’s not really talking about the laptop. he’s trying to act like it’s no big deal, but every time you’re too close to him, tim’s body betrays him. the way his leg shifts a little away from yours under the table, or how he tries to subtly angle his body so there’s just a little more space between you and him, even if he doesn’t want there to be.

you might not notice the subtle movements, but tim does. and every time you get close to him, whether it’s by accident or on purpose, he feels a flutter of nerves that he can’t quite explain. it’s not that he doesn’t want you near him—far from it—but the proximity messes with him in ways he doesn’t understand. his thoughts get jumbled, and his usual calmness slips, replaced by the flustered feeling he’s not used to.

if you ever catch him looking at you, his gaze quickly drops, and a soft blush creeps up his neck. “i—i didn’t mean to—uh, just making sure you’re not too cramped.” he mutters, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his laptop, anything to distract himself from the fact that he’s suddenly very aware of you being so close.

sometimes, when you get too near, tim will just freeze for a moment. it’s like his body can’t process the closeness, and the little awkward silence stretches between you two. it’s not uncomfortable—far from it—but it’s a vulnerable thing for tim, this closeness he doesn’t know how to handle.

but if you keep talking, or even just touch his arm gently when you lean over to look at something, tim’s composure slips even more. he shifts in his seat, trying to act like he’s calm, but his hand might twitch toward yours for just a second before he pulls it away like he’s afraid you’ll notice how he’s reacting.

follows you around during patrol

it’s late at night, the moon casting faint silver light across the streets, and the only sounds are the hum of city life and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. you’re out on a walk, maybe trying to clear your head or just enjoy the quiet, unaware that someone is watching you from the shadows. tim, clad in his suit, has been tailing you for a while now. it’s not that he’s trying to be creepy or intrusive, but rather, he’s just . . . concerned.

tim is the kind of person who can’t turn off his instincts, and tonight, for whatever reason, they’re telling him to stay close. he’s perched high above you on a rooftop, watching you walk along the street below, trying to remain unseen. his red robin suit blends into the darkness of the night, the shadows making him nearly invisible to anyone who might be looking.

he’s not sure why he’s doing it—it’s not like you’ve asked him to keep an eye on you—but there’s something about the quiet stillness of the night that has him on edge. maybe it’s because you’ve been a little distant lately, or maybe he’s just worried something might happen to you in the dark. either way, he’s got his eyes on you, and he won’t stop until you’re safely back where you belong.

he’s quick, agile, moving like a shadow himself. you might hear a faint creak of a fire escape ladder or the flurry of footsteps just out of your line of sight, but when you look, there’s nothing there—just the empty street, the soft glow of streetlights, and the ever-present hum of the city.

it’s when you stop for a moment, distracted by something—maybe you’re checking your phone or admiring a nearby storefront—that he’s closest. in that moment, tim takes a chance, moving closer to you, just a few feet away in the darkened alley. he’s not trying to startle you, but there’s something in his gut that tells him he can’t let you out of his sight, especially when it’s this late, and the streets feel a little emptier than usual.

he’ll hover just out of view, giving you space but never quite leaving you alone. if you keep walking, he follows, keeping his distance but staying close enough to ensure you’re safe. when you stop at a crosswalk or glance around, he’s already a few rooftops away, peering down at you from above, making sure you’re not being followed.

the closer you get to home, the more relaxed tim feels, but he never lets his guard down entirely. even when you reach the safety of your doorstep, he lingers just out of sight, making sure you get inside without any issues. he’ll remain in the shadows for a moment longer, watching as you lock the door behind you, ensuring you’re safe before finally letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

only then does he disappear into the night, his heart still racing, his mind replaying the images of your walk. he’ll retreat to his hidden vantage point, slipping into the dark corners of gotham once more, but the small weight of relief that you’re safe settles deep in his chest. even though he doesn’t want to admit it, there’s a part of him that feels content knowing you’re okay—even if you’ll never know how closely he’s watched over you.

i was wondering how togame, sakura and unemiya (if you can) would react to someone else flirting with the reader😭 and p.s i just wanted to say your writing is chefs kisses 🫶🏻

she’s mine (just not officially)

or, someone is flirting with you, and they can’t deal, featuring: haruka sakura, hajime umemiya, jo togame, suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki

a/n: I actually sort of combined two similar requests into one — just felt it would be easier for everyone! tbh I loved writing this. jealous boys are yummy ~ and thank you so so much for your kind words babes, they mean so much to me! <33

note: first time writing for pretty boy kiryu!! ooh nooo he’s actually kinda cute eeeeee

c/w: fem!reader, crushes, headcanon blurbs, language, jealousy, pre-relationship

the instant that sakura haruka registers that someone’s flirting with you, he’s clenching his teeth so hard that his gums start to ache.

there’s many things that crop up in his mind and threaten to spill from his lips — but he holds them back, because none of them would truly make sense in the situation.

you can’t very well tell someone to back off of your girlfriend when she’s not your girlfriend.

it irritates sakura to no end to watch the way your cheeks flush prettily at every lame-ass compliment the slooze offers you; they aren’t even that good, simply mediocre at best, and it’s very clear that all the dude wants is to get in your pants — and sakura can’t even fathom how you can’t see that.

your giggles, normally so pleasant to his ears, grate like nails on a chalkboard when they’re evoked by someone else.

sakura knows he’s more than likely overreacting, but he can’t help it. every fiber of his being is screaming at him to yank the douche away from you, to separate your bodies that are drawing way too close for comfort, to drag you off to some darkened corner and show you that he’s the one that’s worthy of your attention — that all he wants is to receive it and offer you his own.

but he can’t — and that’s the worst part of it. all these things he wants to do, all the things that sleazeball is currently doing, are the things that sakura is too scared to do.

maybe one day, he’ll pluck up the courage to put himself in that place; and if only he could see the yearning glances you send his way, then he would realize there is no need to fear rejection.

truth be told, you won’t even know hajime umemiya is jealous, because he knows how to (mostly) play it cool.

he’s long since learned to smother negative emotions with ones that are positive — and if he simply can’t smother them, he will act as if they aren’t even there, and proceed with his day like normal.

this process is no different when he feels that green snake curl up in his heart.

of course, he’s outwardly calm, but on the inside he’s seething over every interaction you have with the man. umemiya is taking note of every single pick-up line and compliment the man is throwing at you, and discreetly judging them — that one was way too cheesy, or that one delivered way too lazily, and really, when is the whole “did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” schtick going to die out?

umemiya couldn’t blame him for asking that question though; you were purely angelic, what with that soft smile and those beautiful eyes and that silky hair — he could go on and on about every angelic quality about you.

umemiya does his best to keep his nose out of these situations, but the second he hears the man suggest a date, umemiya is springing to your side with a bright smile.

he’ll apologize to the man and launch into an explanation about how you have plans already (plans of which you weren’t aware of until just now), and only once he’s secured you away from your suitor will he smile sheepishly and say, “I totally forgot to let you know about that. just figured you’d want to come along.”

umemiya never once stops to wonder why you never refute his claims of agreed-upon plans, or why you never question the fact that those same plans turn out to be very rushed and obviously cooked up on the spot; or why he only springs them on you when you’re being hit on.

when someone is flirting with you, jo togame has to find a way to occupy his hands — by fiddling with his ramune bottle, fixing the collar of his jacket, or even in some cases, by simply shoving them in his pockets.

because, nine times out of ten, when someone starts flirting with you, togame is right there beside you; and his hands begin to tremble with the urge to place themselves somewhere on your body. he wants to sate that protective and possessive growl in him by showing a subtle claim over you by a well-placed hand on your hip.

but togame doesn’t hold that claim over you; because although he’s head over heels for you, you have absolutely no idea about it — and sometimes, togame doubts you’d ever hold the same depth of emotion for him too, even if you did know.

so he sits, and he waits, and he seethes. and he yearns. and he thinks.

thinks about what it would feel like if he could do the very thing his mind was screaming at him to; wonders how good it would feel to have your body tucked against his, to be able to look at the guy and say, “I’m sorry, but she’s taken,” all the while you smile up happily at him. like he’s the only man on earth.

togame thinks about all these things — completely unaware that, in that same moment, you are too.

whenever a man enters a conversation with you, suo hayato very subtly injects himself into it and then takes complete control of it. though it’s fairly obvious the man only wanted to talk to you, suo somehow manages to get him roped into a conversation with him as well.

suo is never straight-up rude — but it’s not hard to discern if one bothers to read between the lines. his voice is as calm and unaffected as ever, even bordering on genuinely conversational at times, but there’s this hint of something else beneath it; almost like a threat of some sort.

any and all topics pertaining to you are steered in another direction, the turns always orchestrated by suo himself — sometimes you find yourself wondering why the guy is even still there, why he’s actually conversing with suo when you could clearly feel that he was interested in you.

the man knows why. he feels the silent commands that suo sends his way, feels the aura from him.

of course, you can’t really detect that — but the man flirting with you certainly can. whatever metaphorical language suo is speaking in the man understands clearly, and before you know it, his interest in you is deflected (forced) away.

and every time, you’re left wondering why you don’t feel disappointed about it; and why it just feels more natural for it to just be you and suo.

kiryu mitsuki is what you’d call a man of few expressions. it isn’t that he’s emotionless or incapable of feeling, it’s just that it’s difficult to tell what he’s feeling. his expression is always soft, eyebrows relaxed and eyes even more so, his lips always pulled into a smile as if he’s heard a joke that only he understands. if anything, you’d say kiryu looks content with life — it’s actually a quite charming look.

but when someone’s flirting with you, kiryu looks anything but. his brows are furrowed and the smile is wiped from his mouth. his eyes, a kind, gentle green, burn like twin peridot in hellfire.

kiryu can’t even hide it; can’t be bothered too. he’s shown his affection towards you in ways that are too blatant to be considered merely-friendly. he may not have ever verbally confirmed his feelings for you, but he doesn’t really have to. kiryu shows them.

of course, he’s well aware that you haven’t reciprocated these feelings; and he won’t force you to — if it happens, it’ll happen naturally.

it’s because of this philosophy that he won’t ever interject himself or disrupt the flow of your conversation with the man, but after it’s all said and done with, kiryu will be just a tad clingier towards you than before — and secretly, selfishly, hope that you’ll reciprocate his feelings soon, so that he can finally call you his and he can say all the things he wants to to guys that flirt with you.

𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌

nonnie asked: lately i noticed many writers writing about reader kissing character's face while wearing lipstick and therefore covering them in it and i found it so cute and then started to imagine your om!ocs and the modern au guys (…) being covered in lipstick kisses too […]

pairings: my genshin modern au guys (xiao :: scara :: aether :: kazuha :: heizou :: venti :: childe :: diluc :: kaeya), my obey me ocs (dantalion :: valefar :: stolas), my twst oc (cheron) x gn! reader

warnings: these lipsticks are not smudge-proof

a/n: as said i might write a full thing for one character when i have the chance but considering i have 13 characters here and i can only think of so many scenarios, i’m writing a few paragraphs each for now ^^;

original ask

modern au || dantalion || valefar || stolas || cheron

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐀𝐔

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist

It had been a busy week in which you hadn’t seen much of each other, so when you finally made it to Friday evening, you were overjoyed to see your boyfriend again. Needless to say, when the door swung shut, the first thing you did was flutter some well-earned kisses across his face, not even bothering to take your make-up off.  So when Xiao spotted his reflection in the mirror, the flush on his cheeks wasn’t the only rose colour decorating his beautiful complexion. While you watched his blush darken, he couldn’t meet your eyes in the mirror and you giggled to yourself as you watched them snap to you when you pulled the neckline of his shirt out of the way and planted a final kiss on the base of his neck.

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist

It was your day off, so for once you weren’t out of the house before Scara, instead getting ready at the same time as him. You made him his usual morning coffee to go after he slept over, since he straight up refused to drink anyone else’s, and kissed him goodbye. Not long after he arrived at the piercing studio, notifications started blowing up your phone and you skimmed the furious string of texts, laughing to yourself. Apparently, Xiao hadn’t said anything about the smudge on the corner of his lips, leaving Heizou and Venti to have a field day when they came in, teasing him relentlessly even after he wiped it off.  As for the accusation that you did it on purpose, who was to say…

𝐀𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist

“Do you still need the make up remover?” Aether asked from outside your bathroom door. You’d both just gotten back from an outing with the others from the piercing shop, staying longer than you initially intended. But that was what always happened. Venti could be very convincing and the group was too much fun to leave early. “I’m done, but I didn’t notice you wearing any makeup earlier,” you admitted, opening the door to let your boyfriend in.  “Well I wasn’t,” Aether sheepishly laughed, rubbing the base of his neck. And then you saw it. Faint traces of colour decorating his temple, cheek, the corner of his mouth and even the parts of his neck and chest not covered by his shirt. A shade that very closely resembled the lipstick you applied before going out. “You might be a bit of an affectionate drunk.” “Oh my— I’m so sorry, Aether,” you apologised, quickly searching around for some cotton pads and wiping the lipstick off his chest, trying not to linger on the thought too much. “Don’t worry, I thought it was cute,” he assured you, his warm smile seemingly lighting up the room. As you leaned in to clean his face, he took the opportunity to steal a quick kiss from you as well. “You should wear it more often, it looked very pretty on you.”

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist

Kazuha had come over for lunch, as he often did, taking a break from his coworkers between the plants, sketching if the time allowed for it. When you both had to return to work, you pressed a sweet kiss against his cheek and then rushed to help a customer. And while neither one of you noticed the colour dusting his cheek, the others sure did and wasted no time pointing it out, though all their teasing comments seemed to bounce right off of him.  He wiped the stain away before any customers came in, laughing off how he hadn’t noticed at all. “Of course you wouldn’t notice,” Heizou agreed, a knowing air about him. “After all, you’re way too busy making heart eyes at your florist to even think about looking anywhere else for a second.”

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist

“Hey honey, could you help me with something real quick?” You called your boyfriend over as you finished applying a new shade of lipstick you bought. As Heizou strolled up to where you were standing, you turned towards him with a smile. “What do you think? Do you like it?” “The colour looks beautiful on you,” he easily replied, sending you a flirtatious wink. “Though I’m not sure if it’s really the colour or just you being gorgeous that’s causing it. Now what did you need help with?” Wrapping one arm around his neck, you pulled him in for a kiss, making sure to firmly plant your lips against his. If your boyfriend was surprised at all, he masked it well, easily melting into the kiss. As you pulled away a little breathlessly, you grinned. “Just wanted to see if it’s really smudge-proof, though I guess it failed in that regard.” You traced a finger around the faint trace of colour on his lips as Heizou took the tube from you and applied the lipstick with pinpoint precision. Turning to you, his olive eyes were gleaming with mischief as he chuckled. “I think we should run a few more tests, just to be sure.”

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist

“This one’s for the song you wrote for me and this one’s for bringing me my favourite coffee without me asking,” you mused, studying your boyfriend’s face covered in pink-hued gloss marks. Somehow a kiss to the temple had ended with you caging Venti against the couch, fluttering a dozen kisses all over the skin you could reach. “Ehe, what can I say, I’m just the best boyfriend ever,” he giggled, tracing his fingers down the contours of your face in return. Then, something in his expression changed and you prepared yourself to shut down whatever idea he was about to propose next. “Maybe I should think about getting one of them tattooed? On my shoulder or so?” “Don’t you dare.”

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 Idol

Ever since you had caught a lot of heat from Childe’s manager for accidentally letting your boyfriend leave with a mark decorating his collarbones, you were very cautious of leaving any visible stains on him, even if it was just makeup.  Still, you found ways to work around this little inconvenience. There was one time you signed off a little post-it note you left on the fridge for him, wishing him good luck for a performance, with a lipstick stain. After seeing his reaction of childish glee, it became a staple in your relationship. Then again, whenever Childe came home from work with his makeup still on, he never failed to press a big, fat, lip gloss stained kiss on your cheek, chuckling like the menace he is when you make a show of wiping it off.

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 Club Owner/ Bartender

Diluc had seen his fair share of shameless make outs during his time at the Angel’s Share and normally he just turned his head the other way, not sure why people would enjoy slobbering all over each other. Well, that was until he met you anyway.  Though he’d like to think he was more composed than the intoxicated people at his club, whenever you pressed your lips against his, he thought he might get drunk off of you. He swallowed hard when you pulled away, mind still trying to process what was happening as his eyes tracked the movement of your own kiss-swollen lips, not hasty to wipe away the traces of you against his skin.

𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 Model

Kaeya actually revelled in it whenever you leave any type of mark on him, as long as it didn’t lead to a scolding from his manager. Whether it was something more durable like a hickey or something easily wiped off like a lipstick stain, Kaeya always looked very smug about it afterwards. After all, the marks were a testimony to the events that transpired previously, and what could he say, Kaeya enjoyed those very much. Even more so considering he knew his way around a makeup bag, confidently picking out shades that looked gorgeous on you and even more gorgeous when they were smudged around the corner of your lips and over his skin. In his opinion, every photo of the aftermath was more stunning than any of his cover shoots.

𝐎𝐛𝐞𝐲 𝐌𝐞! 𝐎𝐂𝐬

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 Majolish Owner/ Devil Style Chief Editor

You walked in on Dantalion getting ready, his attention that was previously on his reflection in the vanity mirror flickering to you when you entered. His plush lips, curled into a loving smile, are painted in a flattering shade of red and your gaze was trained on them as you came to stand in front of him. “Are you trying a new shade? It suits you well.” “I am. I’m glad you like it,” he hummed, tilting his head in contemplation. “I wonder…” Cupping your cheek in his palm, the demon leaned towards you and you instinctively closed your eyes as his soft lips pressed against yours with purpose. As always his kisses made a part of your brain short circuit and you blinked at him dazedly for a moment after you parted. There was a satisfied gleam in his bright eyes as he wiped at your bottom lip with his thumb, studying the red stain he left. “As expected, it’s an even lovelier colour on you, my flower.”

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐑 Casino Owner

“Little lamb, come here for a second.” Valefar was no stranger to finding your lipstick smudges at the rim of his drinks or wiping smudges of colour and gloss from his cheek before leaving for the casino after you gave him a kiss goodbye. He didn’t mind, found it cute even, but as he regarded the pink stain on the collar of his white dress shirt in the lounge’s mirror, he knew it won’t come off with a quick swipe of his thumb. It wasn’t a big deal, he kept spare shirts in his office, but Val wouldn’t pass on the opportunity to fluster you. “Care to explain yourself?” You were halfway through stuttering out a sheepish apology when Valefar backed you against his desk, keeping you pinned to him with a hand on your back. Intense amber eyes keep contact with yours as he leaned down to suck a noticeable hickey on the same spot his collar would be, knowing your clothes barely wouldn’t be able to hide it. “Debts should be repaid, wouldn’t you agree?”

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐒 Popular Streamer

It was a pleasant day in the Devildom, as pleasant as it could be in a realm without the sun anyway, pulling the two of you out into town. While strolling from apparel stores to gaming shops, you passed a café you frequented and decided to stop by for some refreshments. As you pointed around various shop displays, you had the sinking feeling that your drink emptied faster than usual. And when you spotted the colourful stain that had transferred from your straw to your boyfriend’s lips, you caught the culprit red- handed (or rather red-lipped). When confronted he merely chuckled playfully before swooping in to steal a kiss on top of your drink, staining them with more of your lipstick and thereby destroying the evidence. (His straw also became more colourful as he offered you his drink as compensation.)

𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐂

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 Prince of Hell

When Vil gifted you a set of lipsticks and glosses from a campaign he was part of and had no need for, you accepted them gratefully. You just finished sorting through all the shades and trying out a pretty shade of red, when there was a knock on your door and Cheron sauntered into your room.  “There you are,” he grinned, charming without even having to try, before pulling you close and stealing the air from your lungs with a kiss. For someone who claimed to not be interested in ferrying more souls to hell, he sure seemed intent on trying to kill you. “What’s this you got there? Vil’s new collab?” “Right you are,” you paused, peering around him to the lipstick tube in your hand and chuckling as you read the shade name. Pressing another kiss right onto the middle of his cheek as payback for his usual schemes, you took in the red matching the colour on the corner of his lips. “Don’t you think it’s a beautiful colour, Cherry? It does match your hair and eyes. Maybe I should start calling you that.” There was a dangerous glint in his crimson eyes, clearly aware of the red staining his face, as he swiped his thumb under your bottom lip where the lipstick left a smudge as well.  “You have a lot of nerve marking the Prince of Hell.” His grin showed off the points of his fangs more clearly now, clearly amused at your little stunt, taking a step forward and walking you backwards towards the edge of your bed. “That’s fine. If you can handle the consequences, that is.”

© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit; do not feed my writing to an ai

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

genshin tag list: @mccnstruck @tavvattales @silentmoths @ainescribe @meimeimeirin @dustofthedailylife @nsojbbkkm @kazuuhhaaaa @inufinuf @ynverse @nico707 @boba-is-a-soup @hellithides @ryuryuryuyurboat @the-guardian-kitsune

modern au tag list: @r0ttenhearts @bananasquash @himimikyu @franaby

obey me ocs tag list: @the-guardian-kitsune

I absolutely love your writing style and choice of words😭😭 whenever you write scara or do a a character study he sounds like a loser lmao (in a good way-)

Thank you, dear anon! Your kind message inspired me to write a proper response (I haven’t done this in ages), so do forgive me for wasting your time on reading it! ❤️🙏

I think “loser” is a pretty accurate word to describe Scaramouche. He never gets what he wants, being either robbed of something he had spilled his own blood and tears to finally seize or prescribed to experience the underwhelming and unsatisfying results of his seemingly “successful” goals. In my humble opinion, it’s the latter that makes Scaramouche such a tragic character. In the end, he wasn’t even allowed to escape from the painful reality of living with the fact that he had spent almost five centuries believing in absolute lies and subjecting himself to blatant manipulations. He was denied the right to commit what the game essentially implied to be a suicide in the name of “correcting his mistakes”, and to someone as wilful yet fragile in terms of ego as he, having to continue existing in Teyvat and actually face the consequences of his actions instead of “quitting in a quick and beautiful fashion” is the cruelest but sobering punishment one could invent and execute against already broken and humiliated individual whose unyielding convictions were shattered by the sudden revelation.

In short, Scaramouche is a complete failure of a person (and deep down he knows it). It’s only natural that you, the “Reader” character, won’t be happy with his pre!Wanderer version — after all, you are the prisoner of his flawed mentality. His imperfections (hidden self-hatred and prejudices included) are too sharp to be smoothed, let alone to be rid of. They leave no room for improvements to be made to the cage you are placed in, depriving him of the pleasure of hearing you sing for him. A bird without a voice is a pathetic sight to behold, and there is nothing he can do about it other than activating his usual defense mechanisms and blaming you for not succumbing to his childish whims. He will be inclined to think that you deserve to have your wings clipped because... there certainly must be an urgent justification for making you miserable, right?

But he won’t be happy either with the outcome. Despite a certain amount of sadistic glee produced, your suffering won’t be considered a victory on his part. It doesn’t matter what kind of feelings you harbor towards Scaramouche — you may desire or loathe him, whatever. It’s he who is the sole problem here; to be precise, it’s his tendency to constantly contradict himself that really dooms your already unhealthy relationship. After all, you are no mind reader, so how would you know that Lord Scaramouche’s disdain for you was born out of his bizarre interpretation of how love works? How would you know that The Balladeer’s despicable demeanor has a complex layer to it? How would you deduce the discarded puppet hurts you because his guts twist at the thought of him — of all people — behaving in a genuinely nice manner?

He wants you to love him, truly, for even failed tools can long for the taste of intimacy. But he also has a burning hatred for seeing the sincere joy of another, himself included. As such, those mutually exclusive feelings constantly clash with each other — if he can’t just dream of that sweet fairy-tale nonsense without a feeling of revulsion, then he is not worthy of it at all. By this logic, the fault is yours alone (for causing him to malfunction, of course) and you are not worthy, too.

Scaramouche is being difficult because there is no other option for him to take – he simply can’t see alternatives. His preferred method of coping with the trauma is lashing out at those few pleasant things in his life and destroying them, therefore prematurely declaring his defeat. It’s as if he aims for it on purpose... or is in strong denial of his neglected need to be loved, thus unconsciously choosing the most crooked and thorny path.

Predictably, this path will lead him to an impasse. As long as he keeps refusing to admit he still has the capacity to feel himself human, he will never win. He is the creation of Eternity, the puppet made by the hands of the embodiment of everlasting stagnation; enthralled by false beliefs, he won’t reconsider them at his current state of being. Your humanity, on the other hand, gifts you the ability to endure, adapt, change, and ultimately prevail – a feat not eligible to his infinitely tolerant body. You have the advantage of possessing a spirit free of the constraints of an artificial creature and a mindset of agile properties – in other words, all roads are open for you to explore to your heart’s content.

Scaramouche, however, has only one. He shall remain a dedicated worshipper of the stale idée fixe until enough force – a force of source almost divine – is applied to his stubborn self. You don’t hold such power, but at least you will always find a way to escape the horror of cohabitating with him. Yet he… He will haunt the same repeated trail in a vain attempt to prove to the world and everyone living in it that his decision to torment you (and himself) was never wrong. Only time shall eventually show him the downsides of the narrative he has been obsessing over and point out the obvious inconsistencies, and until then…

Until then, he will never ever beat you. But will you still be here to laugh at him once he realizes that he never had the slightest chance of putting your king in checkmate from the very beginning?

It is a question you must resolve yourself. By then, his intervening whisper won’t entice you anymore; by then…

You will be the one to pull on the unlucky doll’s strings.

fluff, apologising and making up after a 'fight' kind of drabble bc i miss suna <3

suna rintarou shows up to your university on the third day of the silent treatment.

the sight is a surprise, to say the least. your pro-volleyball player boyfriend standing outside your faculty’s building with his hands in his pockets, blending in with baggy jeans, a hoodie, and a cap. he looks the part of a university student, but you could never be fooled, not when he's 6'3 with an equally admirable stature from exercising.

amongst the crowd of outflowing students, the dark-haired spots you, olive eyes widening upon seeing you. he pushes himself onto two feet before walking over to where you stay rooted, dodging the students who just came out of the same lecture.

“hi,” suna greets, stopping just a few feet away from you. the sight of his lopsided smile is enough to get your heart racing again. you've missed him so much.

regardless, you cross your arms to keep up an angry front, not wanting to give in to his charms just yet no matter how good he may he at using them. 

“what are you doing here?” you ask bluntly, betraying the butterflies in your stomach.

his expression doesn’t falter at your iciness. “not happy to see me?”

you are happy to see him, very much so, especially when he has taken the initiative of literally showing up at your campus and waiting for your classes to be over to see you. he must be tired from practice as well and you know too well that mondays were never kind to him. 

so the fact that suna came all this way for you makes you feel a little special. 

he’s even wearing some of that cologne that you really like and unless it’s for special occasions, you know that your boyfriend is never bothered enough to wear any fragrance. he is so sly that you could kiss him.

“not particularly, suna.” you say in response, lying through your teeth.

suna clutches his chest like he’s been shot, making a gasp of offence at your statement. “babe, after i came all the way to campus? i thought i’d never want to come back here but i made some exceptions for the love of my life and this is what i get in return?” 

“suck it up, i guess.”

“-and who on earth is suna? never heard of him. can’t believe you’ve already forgotten my name after three days, i’m losing sight of reality, babe hold me, i might faint.”

“whatever,” you chuckle a little at his antics, eyes softening with a certain fondness that suna doesn’t miss. his lips twitch upwards at the sight of it.

this is his chance to win you back. he throws his line in in hopes of catching you hook and sinker. 

“let’s go to dinner tonight,” he offers, recovering from his previously downed position, voice contrastingly soft and gentle to smoothen his proposal. 

“what, so you can stand me up again?” you quip, instantly slicing the atmosphere to turn tense as the line snaps in half.

suna’s grin falls, morphing into a guilty frown. “c’mon pretty, that’s mean. you know how sorry i am, i didn’t mean to forget about our plans.”

you huff, letting your arms fall back to your sides. “i know, i know, but you standing me up just stung. it was frustrating because i made time for us that i could have used to study with instead,” you confess. “you know how stressed i’ve been with finals.”

the athlete stuffs his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “but i’m trying to make up for it.” 

“i know and i appreciate it, but now’s not a good time. i’m sorry but i can’t go to dinner tonight or any time soon, i have a bunch of practice tests to do that i can’t keep putting off.”

“then can i come over?” asks suna, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

“and watch me study? do you really want that?”

“i just want to be with you, i can order us takeout or something- on me.”

“guess i’m just irresistible, huh?”

“duh, do you know how much i suffered during the weekend? missed you so much, practically died from boredom.”

“oh so i’m just another person for you to bother? is that how it is?” you ask, unable to contain your smile. 

the dark-haired scoffs. “c’mon babes, you know you’re better than that. you’re the only person i can bother.”

“oh fuck off,” you whack his shoulder teasingly. “also for your information, you’re not coming between me and my education.”

“ambitious people are a turn-on,” he mutters with a shrug before pulling you in to kiss your cheek.

“ew get off me, freak,” you joke whilst shoving him, not rough enough to actually create distance but suna still stands his ground from the force. his hand goes to hold your other cheek as he smothers you with over-exaggerated affection. 

you laugh in his hold, holding on to his wrists for balance. “suna!” you yelp when he pushes too much weight onto you, causing the two of you to stumble sideways. “actually get off me.”

“can’t. won’t. don’t want to. this is what you get for not responding to me all weekend- what does  a man need to do to get a text back from the love of his life?” 

“easy. be a man.” you step out of his grasp with a satisfied smirk, beginning to walk away from your boyfriend who stares at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. inevitably, suna runs up to you.

and as he encases you with his arms in the middle of the empty gardens of your university faculty, you know that the two of you will be okay. even if suna is the bane of your existence, there is no one else for you like him. 

4:15am — Hayato Suo

“A real gentleman is as polite to a little girl as to a woman.”

You remember reading that exact line a while back, though you can’t remember where. And if it weren’t for your boyfriend holding a lost little girl’s hand as he brings her to safety, you would have forgotten the quote altogether.

But today that quote wasn’t leaving your mind anytime soon.

“Here you go, let’s sit down here,” Suo gestured to a nearby bench, gently guiding her through her teary eyes. “Do you happen to remember your parent’s number?”

The young girl sniffled and wiped her tear stained cheeks. “N-No, I’m sorry…” she croaked, guilt creeping into her glossy eyes.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey now— it’s okay,” he whispered soothingly. “I’m sure they’re looking for you too. Could you give us a visual description of what they look like?”

You were seated next to the little girl while Suo was crouched besides her, opting to give you the leftover seat for a chance to rest your legs. It was a sweet gesture, really. But you wish he’d give himself an opportunity to rest too, seeing as he just dealt with a small gang all by himself.

How this situation started was a blur. One minute you were shopping for a new flavor of tea with Suo, and the next you were comforting a girl no older then ten while your boyfriend beat up a group of punks that thought it’d be fun to pick on her. The moment they were all down, Suo had the three of you flee the scene to keep the young girl safe.

You kept a gentle gaze on the girl next to you, though it didn’t stop you from sending Suo a concerned glance for her. She was clearly frightened— no doubt about it, and you couldn’t blame her. If you were little, lost from your parents, and older kids started teasing you, you’d get worked up as well.

“They’re tall… both reallyyy tall,” she said through sniffles. “Mommy has long blonde hair, and daddy has big curly hair on his head and face.”

Suo nodded, retaining the newly acquired information. “I see, can you recall the last place you saw them?”

He gazed at her softly, a look that made her feel safe and secure despite it coming from a stranger. Her sniffles stifled, and her breathing soothed.

Before she could respond, haste footsteps approached the three of you. You snapped your head in the direction the sound came from for confirmation that it wasn’t the boys from earlier. Instead, you were met with unfamiliar faces that matched the description you had just heard.

“Oh goodness, there she is!”

The blonde woman came rushing to her daughter, scooping her up in her arms as she let out a sigh of relief. “We were so worried about you…”

Suo and you both stood, finding your way back to each other’s sides as you watched the small family reunite.

The man— who you could only assume was the little girl’s father— bowed in gratitude.

“Thank you, thank you so much for keeping her safe,” he expressed, sounding quite out of breath.

“We were happy to help,” Suo smiled. “She didn’t get herself into any trouble, unfortunately it came to her. So please, don’t blame her for the commotion.”

The girl’s mother set her back on her feet, allowing her to hug both your and Suo simultaneously. You both hugged back, of course.

“I hope I can be as cool as you guys one day…!”

You side-eyed your boyfriend subtly, as did he, and let out a small chuckle. Neither of you would consider your actions to be “cool,” they were just good deeds. It’d be pure evil to leave such a young kid alone in a dangerous situation, something neither you or Suo would stand for.

“Again, thank you so much. We really can’t thank you enough for handling everything.”

You waved your hands, “It was no problem, really. Like he said— we were glad to help.”

Suo nodded next to you, tilting his head and sending a close-eyed smile to the family, waving as they set off. Once they were out of sight, a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

“Stressed?”

“Not anymore, but that whole thing had my heart racing. That poor girl…” your voice trailed off, thinking about what might’ve happened if neither of you were nearby. “Although…”

His brow lifted in curiosity as you turned to face him with a teasing grin. “I never imagined you being such a hero to kids~”

“What can I say?” he chuckled. “I’ve always been a gentleman haven’t I? That’s what you and the others have been telling me, at least.”

“Yeah, but I think this qualified you as a true gentleman.”

There’s no way that quote won’t cross your mind every time you see Suo from now on. Not until it’s erased from your memory, that is.

© enassbraid 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform

Helloooo, it’s really cool to see a new writing blog here!! I always get excited about scenarios/hc, especially when I have hyperfocus. Can I request Furin (Suo, Ume, Sakura, Kaji) + Togame reacting to the reader (gn or fem) looking at them intensely and they ask what the reader is looking at and the reader says "I'm admiring my future husband" (I'll leave it up to you whether this will be in front of others or when they are alone). The reader says it more as a joke (or not?) to see their reaction (although it doesn't sound like a joke)... Just established relationship, they already have a good level of intimacy. I hope this isn't confusing... Stay hydrated and stay well 💚

•⊹💌₊˚✩dear future husband ₊˚⊹♡ w/ the wind breaker boys

✿ featuring: haruka sakura, hayato suo, ren kaji, hajime umemiya, togame jo  ✿ fluff, f!reader (mentions of being called their 'wife') ✿ a/n: hi cutie~ @kuppuru thank you for this wonderful request and for the warm welcome  ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ had so much fun making this, made myself laugh a couple times while writing these silly wb boys aaaa i wanna bite them!! hope you like it! ✿ wc: 1.4k

— you place your hand under your chin, posing all cute and dreamy-eyed, admiring your sweet, handsome boyfriend. when he catches you staring, he asks you why, and you tell him “oh, i’m just admiring my future husband.”

ʚɞ sakura -

“h-husband?! y-you want t-to get married to me!?” his face heats up instantaneously, and you could have sworn you saw a little steam coming out of the top of his head. 

“whenever you react all cute like that, i kinda do!" you exclaim, happily smiling at his crazy and very red reaction.

his imagination goes wild, and a bunch of different scenarios of what sakura pictured married life with you was like began entering his brain without his consent.

“sakura…?” he imagines you in a wedding dress holding a huge bouquet, walking down the aisle towards him, all prim and proper.

“sakura?” he imagines you two kissing as newlyweds in front of all bofurin members (umemiya is of course bawling his eyes out and yes, even his sworn “frenemy” sugishita was there as one of his groomsmen) on your wedding day.

“sakura.” he imagines coming home to you after a long day, you welcoming him back with home cooked omurice, wearing a cute little apron, and warmly embracing him as you ask how his day went.

“sakura!” he imagines going on a honeymoon with you, you two on the bed, your cute voice calling out his name, your fleeting touch caressing him all over -

all over. it was all over, sakura has blacked out. you poke his cheek multiple times, and still nothing.

“guys, sakura has crashed. error 404 unresponsive page.” you called out to suo and nirei, who were observing the whole thing, how sakura gets redder and redder every time you called out his name, and the both of them have probably figured out more or less why he was reacting that way.

“maybe that’s his way of saying, “till death do us part.” suo remarks, and you couldn’t stop giggling.

ʚɞ suo -

he tilts his head and chuckles. a little “oh?” escaping from his mouth. he was certainly curious on what made you decide that you wanted him as your “future husband” or you so claim. it was usually him that pulled some smooth talk like this, so he was surprised that you suddenly became so – bold. 

you were so cute if you thought this would fluster him.

it made him determined to retaliate and play along with your moves, as he found you ever so amusing as always. “my, my, how mature of you. already ready to take the next step?” suo teases. “i’ll be waiting, then.” he smiles. it was your turn to be flustered. you were at a loss for words, as you expected him to be a little playful, but not this much.

“cat got your tongue?” he leans in closer, and his lips capture yours in a chaste kiss. he repeats this at least three times. you tried to lean in for a more passionate one, but suo raises a finger and touches your lips. “no fair, hayato. what are these baby kisses you’re giving me?” you pout. suo looks at you affectionately. “let’s save the mature kisses for when i become your future husband, hm?” 

these kind of one-liners were his specialty. his forte. and you were in his territory, so of course suo, the competitive little devil that he is, wastes no time to put you in your place. 

ʚɞ kaji - 

he looks at you for a moment, as if in deep thought. kaji finally stands and says: “im leaving.” 

you worry that you might have tested his patience for some reason, as you have been trying out some pick up lines on him nonstop since this morning. he was used to your antics, so he either ignored you or waved you off but this was the only time he actually responded.

kaji looks back at you, as if waiting for you to stand up and follow him. “are you coming with me or not?” he extends his hand in invitation, motioning for you to take it.

“where?” you were so confused. kaji clicks his tongue, reaching out and grabbing your hand. 

“to go buy you a ring.” he says, as if it were the most obvious thing. 

you hold your hand up in protest. “wait, what?! i said future, ren, future! and i was joking!” he pretends to have heard nothing, putting on his headphones to tune you out and does not at all pay attention to your explanation. you couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, but ren kaji was always full of surprises, using metaphors to get his point across, so you just waited to see what he would do. 

he drags you off to the convenience store, told you to wait outside, comes back out with a small paper bag. reaching into it, he opens his hand and unveils a wrapped candy. 

a ring pop.

he puts the ring pop on you, and you admire how the oversized candy diamond looks on your ring finger, almost sparkling in the sunlight. “i’ll get you a real ring in the future, but for now, this will do.” 

you jump up and hug him. he buries his head in your shoulder, trying to hide his small smile. 

you couldn’t stop gushing at how lucky you were and how ren kaji is as sweet as the ring pop he “proposed” to you with. 

ʚɞ umemiya - 

you don’t think you’ve ever seen umemiya smile this big at the mention of the word “husband”. his blue eyes all sparkling and lit up.

the thought of you wanting to marry him in the future or even mentioning it made him so excited, he considers the townspeople and members of bofurin as his family, but of course, you were different. you two already do lots of domestic things together, like helping him tend to his garden, cooking together (you even knew the recipe for his special umemiya soup), tucking him into bed whenever he falls asleep with his glasses on and a book on his face, and of course very intimate things that are only shared between the two of you. you’ve seen many sides of umemiya, but this one is definitely a first.

“oh, baby, the thought of that would make me so happy! i have so many siblings, and now i will have a wife too! now all that’s left is children! i wouldn’t want them to get lonely, so how’s ten?” he picks you up and spins you around, then hugs you tightly. 

“you’re not even my husband yet, and now you want to be a father?!” you giggle, peppering his adorable face with kisses. 

ʚɞ togame - 

he does not utter a word, but togame stares back at you with the same intensity, his bright green eyes making it difficult to look away. it’s as if he has captured you with his soft gaze. 

he mimics your position, his chin also resting on his palm. the two of you now looked like you were having a staring contest, but much closer and much more intimate. 

you blink. “hello? why are you looking at me like that, jou?” you ask him, a perplexed look on your face, waving your hand in front of his face.

“don’t mind me, i’m just admiring my future wife.” he remarks. “and how beautiful she is going to look on our wedding day.” he smiles, almost slyly. he was being so charming lately, always praising you and telling you how much he’s so grateful to be yours. 

you were almost tempted to be the one to get down on one knee and propose to jo togame and ask him to be your husband right there and then. 

𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗/𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖑𝖊 [Yandere Prince!Scaramouche/Reader]

A/n: After reading so many tyrant otome isekai manhwas, I thought I should give writing one a try... This story ended up being a bit more “real”(?) than OI. And I forgot the isekai part LOL. Love this fic a lot because the (L/n) family says the most banger lines. They spitting facts. Anyways, welcome to another throwaway-thursday, enjoy this one, @vennnnn-diagram because... lol.

Unreliable Synopsis: Exiled in Watatsumi island after publishing two anti-colonial novels outside their homeland, the famous reformist writer and physician (L/n) (Y/n) faces several familial deaths— and it all leads back to one man...

Content Warnings/Tags: Yandere themes, mentions of miscarriage (note: this is because this is very loosely based on a real life hero's biography), "lovers" to enemies, angst, character deaths, church corruption, politics, etc. Prioritize your mental health. The fic is meant to be a bit dark. You can listen to this song for the vibes 💖

"Are you going to Watatsumi Fair, Niwa?"

"Well, of course! The Lector works hard to make sure it's grander each year."

"Our Lector… I hope (L/n) is doing alright. It must be incredibly heartbreaking to lose a newborn son under three hours…"

"Indeed…"

It’s the 19th century and the streets chatter on about the upcoming festival. Seri, mitsuba, yomogi, and shiso— murmurs of food and spices exchanged at the Watatsumi Fair circulated. However, these four wonderful things wouldn't be there without a certain exile transforming the island into a thriving island: Lector (Y/n) (L/n).

Prince Kunikuzushi's most esteemed “rival”.

You were an exemplary philosopher and ophthalmologist who published two novels abroad that reflected Inazuma's social issues and military abuses. Of course, you were born in a noble clan. Only the wealthy can study outside Ritou and attain higher education beyond the basic arithmetic and religion Inazuman Colonizers gatekept your people with. You were slaves.

But these colonizers feared educated colonies would demand rights; hence, after publishing those eye-opening novels, you became Public Enemy #1. Charges against you were not absolved, but Inazumans could not execute you upon arrival. You were not a revolutionary, but a pacifist reformist. You made the government and clergy's behavior known worldwide, hence the military banished you to Watatsumi— another Inazuman colony and barren land. 

Assured that you've done nothing wrong, you stayed in Watatsumi. With nothing but your firm beliefs, your days of exile were your most productive. Using your skills as a physician and some wits on land surveying, you've improved Watatsumi’s quality of life in under 6 months. 

You're far from home with little spare change, yet you provided medicina gratis. With you, you’ve helped open the people’s eyes. 

You lived under the scrutinizing eyes of the Queen, yet you erected streetlights in each dark street. With you, you’ve helped the people see in this dark age. 

And most importantly, you have established Watatsumi's first school.

With you, the people understood the truth of their situation: they had been living under a tyrant’s rule for the past few decades.

And all you asked in return was for the people to help you in your ventures to improve the island's agriculture and spices.

How can the people of Watatsumi not love you for this martyrdom?

“(L/n) is organizing a secret rebellion association planning to overthrow the government”. That was the Queen’s grounds for exile, including false testimonial and documentary evidence. It was obvious that your books were in strong opposition to the current Inazuman Government.

Hence, Archbishop Sangonomiya Umiko was incredibly fond of you.

"I still believe I am innocent of the crime of rebellion, illegal association, and sedition. All I did was publish two novels!" You hummed. "When the Shogun calls for my execution— and she will— do immediately ask for my body. They will likely throw it wherever they please. Worse, Kunikuzushi might use me as his doormat." 

The Archbishop laughed. "I can see that. His Highness does fit that character."

You and Umiko sat far from the festivities. Sangonomiya Umiko was neither friend nor foe. She is the current leader of Watatsumi Island, but she is restricted by the commands of the Queen and her children. Umiko cannot even preach about her true faith, hiding her birthright as the Divine Priestess and instead donning the title foreign title of Archbishop. Even with friendly demeanors, there’s an unmistakable grim air on both your faces.

No passerby would mistake this meeting as a romantic date. You have a wonderful spouse waiting home, appearing as crest-fallen as you do now. 

… But "Spouse" is a rather loose term. You and your partner were forbidden to have a wedding. Prince Kunikuzushi would not allow an exile to marry and no priest would disobey him. Hence, you and your lover decided to merely promise to the God you believe in that you'll remain loyal to one another. That faith and loyalty brought about a prematurely birthed child— who only had three hours to live until his breath was cruelly stripped away…

And historians would attribute your son’s death as a cause for your morbid obsession with your own future execution.

"Kunikuzushi is a personification of what's wrong with the Inazuman Empire," you said casually. "He will be the core of what causes the revolution, not I."

Umiko did not miss the way you addressed the Prince. You spoke without honorifics, an aspect in both Watatsumi and Inazuma's language that is evident in everyday conversations. Most revolutionists emphasize his high station with hatred. You emit those titles and call him by name.

As though it was a habit.

As though you were once friends and more.

"Lector (Y/n), do watch your tongue," she shook her head. "The walls have ears."

"And what if the walls have eyes and ears? They shall see and hear my innocence." You sipped your tea before you snapped your fingers with a grin. "Oh, and do me one last favor. When they'll let me face my executioners, armed with polished guns and a shoveled ground:"

"Only the guilty are shot in the back. Let me face the firing squad and spare my head so that I may die facing the heavens."

A glimpse of (h/c) hair ran past in the streets of Inazuma City, carrying a child in his arms. The child was injured but otherwise “fine”— as fine as children could be amidst the rains of ashy woods and turbulent fires. The city capital reeked of gunpowder and a nauseating metallic scent. The (h/c) haired man may not have any blood relations to the person whom they’re protecting, nor does he know her name, but he held onto the 8-year-old dearly. 

Despite the chaos that surrounded him, your older brother cannot help but think of one hopeful thought:

With the recent loss of (Y/n)’s son, maybe they’d be willing to adopt this little girl as my new niece? 

But all that ended abruptly when a loud voice resonated throughout the streets.

“DON’T LET A SINGLE ONE OF THEM ESCAPE. NO SURVIVORS!”

Prince Kunikuzushi stood proud in the middle of it all. With calm finesse, he ordered the generals to order their soldiers to kill without a hint of remorse. His eyes were dull. All he knew was that his mother wished for the death of revolutionaries hiding in the capital. Whether these rumors were falsehoods or not, the Queen did not care. Fear is the family’s greatest weapon, bloodshed is nothing to them.

Death is nothing for a mother's puppet like him.

The Prince truly didn't have any care for this war. He's only following orders under the reward that he'll be able to have you. It was the Queen's promise, and she had always been relentless in any pursuit of honor and glory.

In return for his familial services, Queen Ei might consider his proposal. The royal family dreaded the death of their former matriarch, Makoto, and the prince showed no attraction to any of his valid consorts. Should he show loyalty to the end, the Queen will allow him to marry anyone to his liking.

That's why he's putting up with this.

He looked at the horizon, seeing nothing but fire instead of the deep ocean.

Why did Watatsumi have to be so far away?

Why did you have to be a sea away?

As fate would have it, a young soldier spotted the two. A hunt between two red-tagged innocent civilians and a greenhorn murderer commenced. Limping slightly, your brother attempted to push down restaurant chairs and other outside furniture in hopes he’d lose track of them.

The soldier did not know that the person he was tracking was your older brother.

Had he known, he would’ve left him alone.

And as much as fortune favors the bold, it was not on your sibling’s side.

The soldier fired his first reckless shot and hit its target.

Your brother stumbled, holding his stomach. He gasped, coughing as he subconsciously let the child go. But he did not fear for his life, but hers. He knew that the child was asleep on a park bench when the horns rang for danger. She was homeless with nothing but bedclothes and a short makeshift blanket, and now she’ll be forced to witness a traumatizing scene.

Poor child… You must be frightened…

I hope…

Your brother remains adamant that the child must live, even as the barrel of the enemy's rifle is pointed at his chest. A look of stern determination, mixed with fear, can be seen in his eyes as he stands his ground despite the threat of death.

That (Y/n) will raise you right…

“S-Scaramouche’s crown's resplendent band shows no natural light. The ocean's glimmer elucidates more hope than your vile scarlet battalions could ever hope for!!!” Your older brother yelled, weakly hiding the child behind him.

The soldier cocked the barrel against his forehead.

“There is no emprise to plundering, to murder and genocide—” he continued, coughing blood at the corner of his lips. “You will all be remembered in history as those who had foolishly paraded without genius. Death has a more ambrosial scent than a life of servitude under your heels.”

SHOT!!!

…

…

“M-Mister?... M-Mister?! MISTER!!!”

The child screamed as your brother fell to the ground. With the remaining humanity the young soldier clung to, he turned a blind eye towards the little one crying silvery tears. Truth be told, the new soldier himself had forgotten what it was he was fighting for. What was the point in this death, this pain, if not to harm both sides? But a good soldier does not question his orders and he leaves the child without a word.

She did not know his name. She did not know his status as a (L/n). She did not know he was the older brother of the famous physician (Y/n) (L/n). She did not know he was a martyr way before his true death.

But she still held his corpse with abandon. His body heat was slowly growing cold. Though her stature was short and small, her tears were heavier than her heart could manage.

(L/n)s may meet horrid ends, but Fate grants you all one last wish.

You all have the privilege of dying whilst facing the heavens, and that is the final honor your brother can carry with him in his passing. 

“My dear, a letter arrived,” your spouse spoke. “It came from your mother…”

It was deep into the night and you had just fixed yourself up for bed, but you’re not one to turn down letters. Perhaps your old friend from Opera Epiclese had sent you a reply? Igniting the nearby lamp, you lovingly kissed their hand before taking the letter.

“Thank you, love,” you cooed. “I’ll surely be writing a letter back, so why don’t you rest before me? I shall accompany you later.”

Leaving them with a blush, you shut the door behind you. Despite the struggles in your relationship, your love for your gorgeous spouse will never disappear over the unplanned loss of your first child.

Unlike Kunikuzushi’s…

You entered the living room and closed the door behind you. A wise decision, given the contents that were about to crush the little mental stability you had left.

“My Dearest (Y/n), It is with a heavy heart and trembling hand that I take quill to convey news that no mother should ever have to write down. As I write these words, tears splotch the paper, and each stroke of the pen is a painful reminder of the sorrow that has befallen our clan. My dearest child, it grieves me beyond measure to inform you that your beloved older brother, (B/n), has departed from this world. The weight of this solemn news rests heavily upon my shoulders, and the burden is almost too much to bear. The tragedy unfolded in the heart of the capital, where (B/n), in an act of unparalleled heroics, sacrificed his own life to save that of a young girl during a merciless ambush. His valor shone through, but the cost is another pain you must bear after the death of your own child. Oh, my (Y/n), the pain is unbearable. I wish I could shield you from this heart-wrenching truth, but I believe in your resilience. The thought that you are in exile, far from my comforting embrace, only adds bitterness to my heart. The cruel hand of fate has robbed you of the chance to bid a final farewell to your dear brother, to stand beside his resting place and pay tribute to his funeral. The distance that separates Ritou and Watatsumi feels insurmountable, and I ache at the thought of your solitary grief. I hope your spouse shall accompany you in these troubled times. In these dark hours, know that you are not alone in grief. Though separated, we mourn the loss of a beloved son and brother, the heir of the (L/n) clan. May time and the tender embrace of cherished memories bring some measure of peace to your soul. With all the love a grieving heart can muster, Mother”

As the ink on your mother's heartbreaking letter crumpled with sorrow in your heavy trembling grip, a weighted silence filled the room. The words she penned— each a painful jab to your psyche— threatened to spill tears you've fought so desperately to hold back for weeks since you didn’t want your spouse to worry.

Before you can succumb to weeping on the floor with a contorted expression and writhing body, the door opens, disrupting your peace. 

Prince Kunikuzushi, adorned with his mother’s feather and opulent regalia, strode into your humble abode with an irritating aura of entitlement. His presence, a stark contrast to the mourning atmosphere, successfully transformed your grief into weaponized spite.

"Still holding another Watatsumi Fair, are we?" he sneered, disdain dripping in every word. The callousness in his eyes and “indifference” to your mourning made the air all the more sharper.

“Why are you here, Your Highness?” You spat out. “Had your clow— soldiers failed to entertain you?”

“They are nearly as boring as your spouse in bed.” He snarled. “And I wager that their lives last longer than they do.”

You bit your tongue. Your spouse had made an effort to teach you not to reply to any insult he had towards them, and you had done decently enough to honor their wishes by merely scowling at the royal instead of equipping any nearby blunt weapon.

“Allow me to ask again,” you forced yourself to be cordial. “What are you doing here, Kunikuzushi?”

The prince clicked his tongue.

“Do I not have the authority to visit you?”

“You do,” you said. “But you do not have the right to barge in as you please, much like how Lord Hiroshi shouldn’t have decided to conquer my homeland Ritou and decide to claim it as Inazuman property for your mother’s ever-so-eternal happiness.”

“He was only claiming what is rightfully ours.”

Prince Kunikuzushi looked over at your bedroom door. You took large steps forward, blocking his way. You won’t allow him to disturb your lover’s good night’s rest.

He frowned.

"You should have been mine," he muttered softly. 

You hated this about Kunikuzushi the most. He speaks with audacity that knows no bounds as he criticizes your spouse, but would sound the most pure when addressing his own emotions. “You should’ve said yes. You should’ve ruled these nations with me, and more. But you threw it all away and for what? Fragile patriotism? You are defending an island that will suffer the same fate as your beloved Ritou.” 

In the eye of this tempest, your mother’s burning words fuels a fire that burns brighter than any royal decree. 

"You speak of love and marriages," you seethed, voice cutting through the tension, "but you know nothing of the bonds that truly matter."

…

…

…

As the realization dawns upon him, his arrogance wavered. 

He had not realized early on that news about your brother’s death had reached you already.

"An accident," he stammered, attempting to deflect blame. "If I knew, I would have spared him in that ambush. I’m not an All-Knowing God, so it’s genuinely just an accident."

With a chilling calmness, you locked eyes with him. "That wasn't an accident— our previous affairs were an accident. What you've done was murder." 

Your words hung in the air, leaving no room for denial.

“I love you,” the prince spoke in near-whisper. “You know better than anyone that I would never do anything to hurt you this bad. You know that I am the voice that called for your exile instead of execution. I never would’ve asked for his death.”

His claim was also true. 

You knew you were the only person who he had fallen for his whole life. You knew because when you were studying abroad, you had strange chance encounters with him. You knew because he was mildly stalking you and would’ve for a long time had you not offered a seat in the library. You knew because he had been a difficult person to court, always bottling his own emotions and lashing out in retorts you had dubbed “adorable” at a time. You knew because he had told you himself years ago that…

"You are insufferable. And yet, I find myself inexplicably drawn to your company. It's horridly vexing. Your presence lingers in my thoughts long after you've departed, like an annoying insect. I must confess, despite my best efforts, I find myself rather fond of you too— ridiculously enough."

... But what you didn’t know during your studies in Fontaine was that Kunikuzushi was the son of the Queen you despised and wrote articles against in editorial jobs to earn not only spare cash but the enlightenment of your people back home. What you didn’t know was that the prince had been sent by his mother to monitor your actions.

What you did not know came to haunt you on your way back home. 

So you rid yourself of these memories and cornered him into a wall, a hand just behind his head. The sound of your hand slamming made the intimidating prince flinch, and he trembled at the dullness of your eyes.

“And yet whose orders was it? Whose order was it to ensure there would be no survivors in that location? WHOSE WAS IT, KUNIKUZUSHI?! ANSWER ME!!!”

Your spouse called your name from the other room. “(Y/n), is everything alright?”

With their voice, your anger faded slightly, yet your breathing remains loud and manic. “I’m alright! Do not leave the room, dear!”

“Scaramouche” took that as an opportunity to digress.

“I saved you from death before. Do not forget that.” His face hardened. “In case you've forgotten, I'm no saint. Many people will want to seek me out and settle the grudges they've built against me, and what better way to avoid that than to route those future seeds of rebellion?” 

The prince took your hand off the wall.

“Mother had enough, she sees no reason to hold back against those who rebel and she had filed an order to reopen your case. And if my blood and hers are the same, I guarantee you that she will only provide you with the worst defense attorney possible. You will surely receive the death sentence.”

He placed your hand on his chest, gripping it so desperately tight to the point of it hurting.

“So choose me,” Kunikuzushi mumbled. “Choose me, and save yourself. Do not follow your brother’s path. Choose me. I’m your only option.”

And heavens above, does he take delight in that.

You met his gaze with a resolute determination. 

"I appreciate your offer," you replied, your voice steady, "but I refuse. My brother's legacy, as tarnished as it may be, deserves justice, and so do I."

A flicker of frustration passed across Kunikuzushi's face. 

"You're being naive," he retorted, the desperation in his voice taking a sharper edge. "An arraignment is on its way. The military court will not deliver justice. It will devour you. I’m offering you a fucking lifeline, a chance to escape the inevitable."

“I won't tarnish my brother's memory by succumbing to the same shadows that claimed him."

Kunikuzushi's eyes, once filled with a glimmer of hope, darkened with frustration. "You're condemning yourself—" he argued, "—for an idealistic notion of justice that doesn't exist. You're a fool."

"Perhaps I am a fool," you admitted, "But I am a fool who is sure of their innocence. I am not a revolutionary, I only spoke and wrote of the truth. I will not compromise my integrity for the sake of expedience."

As you spoke, the defeat in Kunikuzushi's eyes began to settle. 

"You're determined," he snarled. "So stubbornly determined to die!"

"Perhaps," you acknowledged, "Choosing you would be an escape, but it would also be a betrayal of everything I stand for. And I…"

You smiled.

“I love my spouse,” you said. “And the child we made that was taken from me all so suddenly. Hence, I do not need your love, Prince Scaramouche.”

Kunikuzushi tensed up.

Your child was baptized by the Inazuman priests. 

And Inazuman priests serve the royal family and their constituents.

History’s eyes will speculate that Prince Kunikuzushi was the reason your child had died, that he had ordered your son's immediate poison upon birth.

And Kunikuzushi knows it to be true.

But you will never know that.

You will never know the full extent of what this man had taken from you.

With those words, you turned away from Kunikuzushi, leaving him and his offer behind. You opened the door and gestured for him to leave. Neither of you knew at the time that this would be the last night you’d spend in the comfort of your own home.

Before you knew it, you were writing your final farewells.

(Y/n) (L/n) was subjected by the military court on ████████ ██, ████ and was sentenced to death at six in the morning.

The people saw no justice for their hero, and your body was buried in Inazuma City. If it were not for all you and your clan had given, there would be no freedom in Watatsumi Island and Ritou. Had your brother not saved the young girl, she would not become the matriarch of the Yuna Clan, who led the first Navy in the revolution.

And had you not died in Inazuma City, there would be no Resistance.

But that was centuries ago. 

Divine Priestess Sangonomiya Kokomi sat on her desk, examining previous preliminary investigations. She racked her brain over the testimonies of the seven members of the military court, the judge advocate, the defense counsel, and the prosecuting attorney. The prince was right when he stated the trial would not be fair for you were forced to employ a Lt. Arataki as your defense. It was a prejudged trial. Despite the obvious assertion of innocence, you were still acquitted of your allegations of treachery.

It never fails to make the current Head Priestess feel sour over a 5 centuries-year-old case.

"In their last moments, (L/n) penned Watatsumi Fair and Canticle, two sonnets kept hidden in an alcohol burner." Kokomi murmured as she read. "Although the prince barred their spouse entry, several other family members and friends came to visit (L/n) with the Orobashi coral statue provided by the townsfolk. The sculpture was created for them during the aforementioned fair."

Are you going to Watatsumi Fair?

"In their Fontainian black suit, hat, shoes, and white vest, (L/n) walked calmly outside their prison cell to the execution site in Inazuma City. They've even checked (L/n)'s pulse and felt no irregularities. (L/n) were tied elbow-to-elbow despite their visible acceptance of fate."

"It was speculated that Prince Kunikuzushi was the last person whom they talked to, looking rather somberly with disdain. He spoke in a foreign language so only (L/n) and he knew of their conversation."

Seri, mitsuba, yomogi, shiso.

"But Archbishop Sangonomiya Umiko understood what he had said. Je t'aime, mon grand amour… ma première trahison. Roughly translated as I love you, my grand love… my first betrayal."

"Lector (Y/n) (L/n) was commanded to face the ground when the firing squad pulled the trigger, but they still tried to face their executioners. They fell to the shoveled ground, looking at the gray morning skies. They were buried at seven."

“From then on, the name Kunikuzushi changed its meaning to Country Destroyer— for he had successfully demolished the Inazuman Empire upon sitting on the throne through violent means. When asked about this, the King responded with:”

Remember me to one who lives there.

“I didn't desire the Empire that took away my (Y/n). I didn't crave any of it. As soon as I was coronated, my heart stopped beating. And so, I enticed the neighboring King Morax to crumble the very essence of the Inazuman Empire. What purpose do these soldiers have in life, when all they've done is obediently follow ruthless commands and snuff out the ones who hold my heart?

When it’s said and done, I will be empty— a blank slate, destined to wander the desolate corridors of a nation bygone.

Only to honor these filthy human emotions called “love” that never came to be.”

He once was a true love of mine.

Taglist (pls notify if you wish to be on the taglist &lt;3): @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram , @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl @kitkareen

sketches from volume 15 - 17

⌕. WIND BREAKER

⟳. “ DID I IMPRESS YOU? ”

how would the wbk boys impress you to catch your attention or they want you to praise them?

character/s : sakura haruka , suo hayato , togame jo , kaji ren , umemiya hajime , kiryu mitsuki .

warning/s : suo’s part is like 50/50 so uhm !! you can decide if it’s part of it or not ! , ooc characters ( im sorry sighs )

word count : 100+ each

note : i have motivation to write so might as well make the best of it !! i’m also planning to make suo’s part a separate fic uhm..

sakura haruka — 119 words

i don't know but i think sakura would try to impress you by showing how he’s good at fighting but when you praise him for that or he got your attention because of that he gets flustered easily and tries to brush it off saying he’s not doing it to impress you when it’s clearly written on his face.

you can only laugh when he says that you’ll probably won't even believe anything he says and just look at his face to see if he meant it or not.

“ where have you been all these years my knight in shining armor? ” you teased him, your hands clasped together in return he looked away with a blush on his face.

suo hayato — 165 words

bro doesn't even need to impress you because you’re already impressed by him !! he’s a gentleman everyone knows and that’s also how you're already impressed because why is he so gentle? so whenever you two are together people will mistake that you and suo are dating because of how considerate suo whenever he’s with you.

you’ll never even catch him irritated whenever you let him carry your school bag or the things you bought, he’s just there following you with a smile on his face.

“ why are you doing this every time we are together? ” you asked as you take a spoonful of ice cream in your cup and eat it. “ i’m close to falling for you, you know. ” you said half jokingly when he chuckled as he wiped the ice cream from the side of your mouth. “ i’ll wait for the day you fall for me. ” he replied making you speechless and a blushing mess as you just continue to eat your ice cream.

togame jo — 118 words

did a bit of research and seems like he plays go and shogi so uh he would probably invite you to watch him play with shogi with someone.

he knew he would win it and obviously you are in awe saying how good he was at shogi so you invite him to play with you after he plays a couple of rounds. you weren't good at playing shogi but you wanna test out your skills.

he beat you once or twice then after that then lets you win every round. “ wow, togame i didn't know i’m the only one who can beat you! ” you quip making him chuckle as he nodded. ” guess you're too good at this game. ”

kaji ren — 166 words

you heard that the music playing in his headphones are something that can damage his eardrums but it seems like his ears don't even hurt so you would let him try one of your favorite music to see if he likes it.

when you two were taking a walk around the town, you were rambling about your favorite band and how cool and good their music are. kaji didn't let that slip in his mind and listened to their music when he got home.

the next day, you suggested one of their songs and his response was he had listen to it and taking a liking to the song and it was now on his playlist. your eyes widen and smiled. “ really? its a good music isn’t? you got a good taste in music! ” you praise as you pat his back as if he’s choking on something. it just made you more even happy that he has one of your very favorite song in his playlist.

umemiya hajime — 195 words

you helped him plant some seeds in the rooftop since you don’t have anything to do and everybody knows that umemiya is a man that cares for everyone. let’s imagine umemiya has like one of those portable stove hidden in the rooftop 😭😭 so you were flabbergasted when you just saw him casually take out a portable stove. he remembers that he doesn't have enough ingredients to cook something so he apologizes for that and quickly run into kotoha’s cafè to get a few ingredients. when he got the ingredients you just watched him.

you watch the white haired man cook something in front of you — you didn't even know he has the skills to cook! clearly you’re impressed since you can’t cook to save your life. ( if you would even cook it’s burnt. ) he probably learned it with kotoha. when he finished cooking he gave you a portion of food he had cooked for you two. you gave it a ten out of ten. it was delicious as you thanked him for it.

“ never knew you could cook, maybe i’ll hire you as my personal chef in the future. ” you said jokingly making umemiya snort.

kiryu mitsuki — 145 words

if you invite him to play a game with him he will accept it without hesitation even if you're bad at it or you just started playing he would help you and will still play with you even if you’re the worst player in the game.

would probably try to impress you to fish out some compliments from you and it works like a charm. “ damn, didn’t knew you’re so good at this! ” you would say as he just laughed wholeheartedly.

he probably won’t even try to hide that he’s trying to impress you. “ i should be good at all these games so i can carry you and impress you, y’know. ” he says that with a smile plastered on his face.

if you two are not talking about games or anything you’re gonna comment about how good he smells because of the perfume he uses.

date posted 062324