𝟐:𝟎𝟑 𝐀𝐌

REQ ♡~ kevin & su matching layouts☁️🧸🤍🤍

[credits: @/0Nashiro on twt]

thinking fluffy thoughts about scaramouche.

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hey do you think that kunikuzushi is a waist holder.. HE SEEMS LIKE ONE AHH IMAGINE HOW GENTLE HE IS naw i can’t take this no more

— 🧸 !!

I FORGOT TO RESPOND TO THIS I’VE BEEN BUSY FOR THE PAST FEW DAYS 😭😭 </3

(could be suggestive maybe it’s just a lot of waist holding JFGKJG i love kuni)

oh my gosh waist holder kuni….. he hasn’t felt the touch of a human being before so when you let his hands wander along your waist he’s so embarrassed yet fascinated by the dips and curves of your figure, and you’re so warm, too, something that contrasts his normally cold porcelain skin.

once you gave him permission it’s become a habit for kuni, always straying close to you and placing a hand at your waist to pull him closer to you,,, and when night falls his hands are basically glued to you bcus you’re so warm <333 if u ask kuni to touch his waist too he’ll be pleasantly surprised at the request, he might flinch a bit at the sensation, but it’s extremely comforting feeling your hands run along his waist like this.

RIN ITOSHI OMFG 😭

ONCE AGAIN, I AM AWARE HALF OF THEM ARE FLAT.

featuring. alhaitham, scaramouche/wanderer, kaveh, dottore, xiao

author drivel. look at me go, i finally made the 2nd part after what.. 4/5 months? (typical me behaviour ngl). reason it's so belated is cuz the app i make these things in got messed up and the pfps all disappeared and for a long time i couldn’t be asked to fix it lmao🗿

contents. lots of crack, not nsfw, but it can get pretty suggestive lmao

✤ 𝐭𝐱𝐭 𝐫𝐱𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝟐

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨

al haitham

I'M FUCKING FINALLY NOT LYING THROUGH MY TEETH WHEN I WRITE THIS SHIT LETS GO

scaramouche

this man(let) is like a victorian man when it comes to anything more than sitting next to each other and you can’t convince me otherwise.

kaveh

to explain the nickname: kaveh -> sounds like coffee -> coffee beans

dottore

the dottores "own(ed)" one phone between the bunch of them, despite it originally being omega's. y/n is just kinda like the communal s/o in a way. also, omega will use ~ over my dead body.

xiao

the image used there is some beta art of xiao where he's got a vacuumed seal shirt for some reason (even more so than normal)

teasing with kazuha was a big game to you. who gets flustered the most, who shys away first, wo touches who first when kissing, it was all a challenge. that you would lose. each and every time.

you were determined to win this time, though. you were going to leave him a red mess, begging for kisses! you weren’t gonna let yourself lose this time.

formal parties were a buzzkill, especially with all of the oogling eyes on your boyfriend and the hushed whispers about how dreamy he is.

so, if you were to deprive kazuha of his much needed attention, it would be fine, right? since he has his little goons, he doesn’t really need you to be at his every beck and call, right? he didn't seem too lonely.

thoma sure did, though. poor, poor thoma, all alone with no commissioner to bother him! you’re sure that kazuha wouldn't mind if you talked just a little bit, right? 

clearly, you think, this wasn’t the best way to go about it. 

you weren’t losing in your eyes, per se, just incredibly underpowered. you were just teasing kazuha, and now you were trapped in a cage of his arms in an abandoned hallway.

"i bet you think you're so smug and powerful, huh?" you breathlessly whispered, his slender fingers gripping onto your chin like you were bound to leave any minute. he wouldn't allow that, even if it just were a passing thought.

"oh, do you not think i am?" kazuha hummed beneath you, tracing his knuckles against your jawline and making you shiver whenever one of his many rings made contact with your skin. "because, i think it's quite clear who has who pinned."

"and i think it's quite clear who's gonna l-lose when we get home." you broke eye contact with him before he squeezed your thigh and leaned closer.

"i think we'll do other stuff before that, aha. do you really think we’ll even make it home, hmm?" 

he nibbled on your lip before enveloping you in another kiss, gripping your hair to push you two closer and closer until it felt like two bodies became one with how minimum space was between you two.

kazuha pulls away with a dangerous look on his face, a predator hunting their prey, before kissing you down from your jawline to your collarbones.

he left a fiery trail of reds and purples, bruises blooming across your skin as his teeth grazed across your skin. his blunt nails dug into your skin, rings once again making your breath hitch and bite your lip.

ah, maybe you have lost this game.

These flowers will never fade.

Synopsis: your mind doesn’t remember his name, your heart burns with the impression he left. You keep searching for someone you are certain you knew, someone you know you loved. When you see him again, does your soul still know who he used to be?

Featuring: Scaramouche x gender neutral reader.

Content warnings: spoilers for the 3.3 quest, this takes place right after the quest’s ending; angst to fluff, amnesia (if you’ve played the quest, you know what i mean), reader is implied to originate from Inazuma, implied friends to lovers (?), reader cries, but there’s a happy ending and some soft kissing, soft scara.

Author’s note: this is kind of a novelty for me, different from what i’m used to writing, i had so much fun creating this story, so i hope it’s enjoyable!

Acknowledgements: thank you so much Bunny for being the first one to read this piece and liking it, that makes me immensely happy, genuinely!

You don’t quite recall when it started, this feeling, as if you miss someone, every day. Sometimes, in dreams, you see this person, him. He is always with his back turned to you, cyan and azure clothes fluttering in the breeze, just out of your reach, for, every time, when your fingertips are close to reaching him, the dream ends, a gust of wind and the same small bird on your windowsill greeting you good morning.

This sensation gnaws at you every time the dream repeats, your heart rate accelerates, its thunder urging you to find this person, to calm the storms battling inside your mind. Who is he? You are not sure. And who is he to you? Your heart answers in whispers that you loved him, but you don’t remember when that was. Was it years ago? Or perhaps you just fell in love with the idea of the mysterious stranger who keeps entering your dreams? Deciding not to dwell longer on your thoughts for now, you get dressed and exit your room.

The inn you’re staying at is nice and small, the occasional chatter or people hurrying to start their days, paired with the natural light entering through stained glass windows making for an atmosphere reminiscent of sunny days. You smile, looking up at Sumeru’s bright blue sky. Perhaps today you’ll find answers, for the first time since you started this journey, leaving your homeland behind, the realm ruled by eternity fading to green fields under the protection of the archon of wisdom.

The wanderer, formerly a man of many names, has his eyes set on the horizon, a golden outline against a backdrop of mist flower blue and snapdragon orange, another day coming to a close.

Erasing himself from history doesn’t seem to have affected the general outcome of events; in the end, he could not save those he cherished, and everything turned out to be the same.

However, now that Scaramouche has recovered his memories and decided to bear the burden of his sins, there is a certain memory concerning someone he hadn’t lost, but who might have forgotten him: you. You, who always trailed behind him, trying to make conversation when he set foot in Inazuma, not as the Kabukimono, not as Kunikuzushi, but as the Balladeer; you, who greeted him with smiles and soft words, even when he snapped at you; you, who found their way into the hollowness of the heart he longed for; you, who Scaramouche was certain he knew, even when no memories remained. And he has no one else to blame for this, except himself.

What are the chances you two cross paths again? What is the likelihood some part of you still remembers him, like Scaramouche did when his own memories were erased? The wanderer sighs, closing his eyes briefly, hands gripping the railing of the terrace in front of the Sanctuary of Surasthana. Even if you did have memories of him, is he really worthy of you? Does he dare speak the words his make-believe heart wrote in the lips he kept silent?

Conflicted, Scaramouche opens his eyes again, the image of an early night starry sky coming into view, as he wonders whether he can bring himself to face you again, if the same stars he once deemed to be a lie weave the threads of this hypothetical fate in his favor, that is.

The last rays of a late sun kiss your skin once more, as the outlined horizon turns from raging reds and purples to azure and starlight golden. Your eyes scan the distant skies, glittering with stars, didn’t someone once tell you they were fake? No matter, you think, gaze fixated in the faraway pinpricks of light.

A wish you dare not murmur crosses your mind, and you silently ask the stars above to guide you, to help you find the man you keep seeing in your dreams. You think you loved him once, but you can’t recall his face or his name, for that matter… Is he in the same situation, wherever he wanders? You wonder.

With these muddled thoughts, your steps carry you through Sumeru city, arriving finally at the Sanctuary of Surasthana. There are still some people around, a researcher and a man dressed in Inazuman attire seem to be discussing something; a blond girl in a peculiar dress is talking to a child? a floating child? you can’t quite tell, perhaps is some new technology, or it could be the renowned traveler everyone talks about and her floating companion; some more civilians seem to be milling around, and then, your gaze focuses on a peculiar figure: he is dressed in hues that match the early night sky, lighter blues merging into more intense tones, like the waves that lap against Inazuma’s coast. You can’t see his face, but, from the back, you spot uneven locks of black hair, the aura around him unknowable, inscrutable, as the very night sky he seems to have walked out of. On top of his head sits a wide brimmed hat, in the same shades of blue, two teal silky ribbons swishing behind him as he walks.

Then, you know. It’s him, the one who’s been appearing in your dreams for archons know how long.

Without thinking it twice, you break into a run to catch up to him.

When you’re about to reach for him, though, you hesitate. What are you even going to tell him? That you dream of him? That you are sure you know him but you don’t remember his name? No, that doesn’t seem like the best course of action…

Not even a second later, your thoughts would be interrupted by a colliding force.

“Hey, would you mind looking where you are- …” Scaramouche’s eyes widen at the sight before him, his words dying in his throat. There, right before him, lying on the ground, is you.

“I’m sorry, I- …” You trail off, your own gaze mesmerized by his features. Deep blue-violet eyes lined in red stare back at you, widened, some dark strands of hair falling over his surprised expression. His skin is pale, porcelain-like, spotless, but if your eyes don’t deceive you, you could swear his cheeks are coloring in pink.

The sight of him is familiar, everything about him, you know you have seen before; his face, somewhere outside your dream, you remember it now, but why? Why is it you can’t recall his name? What is this feeling of knowing you loved him somewhere along the way? Who was he? And who is he now?

Your train of thought is interrupted, his voice, familiar.

“Are you okay?” He asks, fair hand reaching for yours, pulling you up from the ground.

As his skin makes contact with yours, a scene flashes before your eyes.

“So, will you tell me?” You sing-song, skipping along, a few steps before him. “Why do you always speak harshly when you care so much?” You turn around, light pink cherry blossom petals falling around him, the afternoon sun casting an ethereal glow around his figure. You smile, catching a petal that landed on his shoulder, holding it between your fingertips.

“None of your business.” He grumbles, cheeks matching the color of the flowers around you, lilac eyes averted to the side.

You chuckle.

“Hm, so you say but…” You take one of his hands in yours, and although he grumbles a little, the boy makes no attempt to pull away. “You seem to be a little happier when I come to see you.” You regard him, a knowing glint in your eyes. “Are those fatui guys overworking you?” Your gaze darkens, expression somber. You don’t really know what orders does your friend (who you have more than platonic feelings for) receive from the fatui, but you notice how always that he returns from missions, he is visibly tired and overexerted.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He replies, monotonously, as if that same sentence had fallen from his lips thousands of times.

Observing how his expression numbs at the topic, you decide to lighten the mood and, playing with the delicate pink petal you’re still holding, you ask him:

“What do you wish for, Balladeer?” You give him an encouraging smile, then add: “Don’t say it aloud, just think about it, let me know when you’re done.”

The harbinger looks at you, nodding, then: “Okay, done.”

Softly, you blow the petal in your hand, scattering it to the wind grazing the islands of Inazuma.

“There,” you hold his hand again. “Now it will become true, as long as you keep desiring it.”

“I wished for you, [Y/n].” are the words Scaramouche would keep locked inside the heart he yearned for.

Now you remember him. Balladeer was how he introduced himself to you the first time you met him back home. A close friend, what he became next. And the one your heart longed for was what he ended up being the more time you spent together. Yet, you never confessed that to him. Not that you had that much time anyway, you now recall how he left Inazuma one night, never showing up at the spot you usually met, not tomorrow, not the next.

“Ballad-” Your words are cut off.

“Shh, don’t. You remember me, I see.” Scaramouche smiles, perhaps more tender and genuine than you remember. His pointer finger rests on the curve of your lips, effectively keeping you from speaking. “But I’m afraid I do not use that name, anymore, my dear [Y/n].”

It’s true, his attire is quite different from what you remember it to be, and for some reason, you had forgotten about him altogether… But you know he is the same man you fell in love with.

Before you can hold them back, silent tears start falling down your face. He wipes them away with the backs of his fingers, pulling you closer to where his heart should be.

“Then…” You sniffle, trying to contain the sobs threatening to leave your throat. “What should I call you? Why couldn’t I remember you?”

Carefully, he brings your head to rest on his shoulder, and the cries you previously contained now pool out of you like water from a broken dam.

“I dreamt of you, so many nights, but I couldn’t remember who you were!” you cry into his shirt. “I could never see your face in my dreams and I couldn’t remember it when I woke up either, but I knew, I knew you were important to me, I knew you were someone I love and I…”

You can’t bring yourself to go on, more tears blurring your vision.

Scaramouche’s own field of vision becomes tampered with unshed tears, but he shakes his head. Emotions used to make him think he was weak, but now it’s a whole other reason that makes him want to stay strong: for you.

He hugs your form, squeezing you, reassuring you. He’s here now, you found your way to each other, despite it all. Perhaps it was written in the stars all over, maybe it is you two who commanded the threads of your destinies to intertwine once more, but you’re together again.

The wanderer holds your chin between two of his fingers, guiding your tear stained face and shiny eyes to his. For a brief instant he pauses, the question that needs no words hanging between you both.

Through crystalline tears that catch the moonlight, you smile up at him, a little bashful.

With soft eyes of violet, his own lips curve into a smile of his own before locking them with yours.

Scaramouche tastes the salt of your starlit tears and the bittersweet yearning you brought from your dreams of him. Your lips feel so tender against his, the night breeze slightly ruffling your hair and clothes. The wanderer’s hands cup your cheeks, and he thumbs away at the remaining tears, scattering them into moonlight, like you did with that delicate petal the afternoon he made his wish.

Your fingers tangle in the smooth locks of his dark hair, trying to pull him closer to you, to the heartbeat he’s so long desired, to the heartbeat that’s been longing for him, even when your mind could not recall his face or name.

Tilting his head to the side, Scaramouche deepens the kiss, every doubt he had before fading away every second your intoxicatingly sweet lips are in touch with his. It feels like returning to one’s own old home, walls overgrown with vines, no lights on, but the same colorful flowers still growing and thriving in the lonely garden.

Reluctantly, you both pull away, catching your breaths. Your lover rests his forehead against yours, his fingers locking with your own, holding onto your hands, to never let go again. To you, and to any stars above that are listening, he whispers:

“My wish has become true. Right now.”

nothing less.

(kazuha x asexual!reader)

warnings: hints of nsfw, mainly fluff, pet names, reader is hinted at being on the ace spectrum, overall just very cute

the embrace was familiar.

the hands that ghosted over your waist did little to nothing to quench the uneasy feeling in your stomach, nor did it help you hide the frown on your features.

the silence in the air was almost suffocating, and the tension felt as if it was thickening with every second that passed between you and your lover.

his hands trailed up to your face, caressing your cheek with his calloused palm; a small reminder of the battles he has fought, sword in hand.

a small yet comforting smile adorned his face as you both locked eyes, his tender touch causing a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“my muse,”

his thumb wiped away a stray tear, before moving to put your hair behind your ear. “if you’re feeling uncomfortable, there is no rush to carry on.”

his tone sounded even softer than what it was usually; the solemn expression he wore silently telling you it was okay.

fitting, really, considering how vulnerable you both were in this moment.

you expected nothing less from the wandering samurai.

“i…” breaking eye contact, you felt guilt seep into your burning skin. “i don’t want to leave you unsatisfied, kazuha.”

he chuckled at that, closing his eyes. “i’m satisfied, dove. your very presence is enough for me, i wouldn’t ask for more.”

he looked beautiful like this, you thought. the moonlight leaking in from the window lit up his features; he was nothing short of divine.

so why was this so hard? denying him? any other person would jump for the opportunity, which begs the question: why haven’t you?

“i love you, so, so much.” a deep breath. “i just have no desire to… do this… i’m sorry.” your voice had turned into a whisper by the end, you were finding it hard to say anything else.

“and… i love you more than anything, no matter what. so why feel guilty?” he pressed his forehead to yours, your noses bumping ever so slightly. “your lack of sexual desire won’t stop me from loving you, my muse.”

a weight was lifted off your shoulders as he said that.

sighing softly, you cuddled into him, your head on his chest as his fingers smoothed over your hair.

“never change, y/n.” he cooed, similar to a bird singing into the night sky.

“i wouldn’t have you any other way.”

THIS MOMENT SHINES LIKE

GOLD !

Honkai edit prompt - Day 2: Favourite playable valkyrie: EDEN .

♡ or ↻ if use/save! Credit is greatly appreciated.

★_MOODBOARD MESSY❕

season 2 where </3

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