JUST BECAUSE I LOVE YOU ( Who Said There Has To Be A Reason For My Affection ).

- affection with the wanderer in the avidya forest

- fluff hehe

a/n: i think it would be funny if scara had to do community service after all the stuff he did to sumeru so i briefly mentioned it in this. anyways scara brainrot go brrrr

- lowercase is on purpose

it started with a simple kiss to the back of his hand: quick and fleeting, just the way he liked it. see, too much affection without prior announcement was a no-go with the wanderer.

but then, when you tried to let go of his hand, he held on tight, almost desperately, and so you kissed his hand again, and then his wrist, all the way up to his neck where his knees began to buckle everytime your lips pressed against the sensitive spot between his jaw and throat.

luckily, no one was around or else he would have never allowed something like this to happen.

a nice quiet walk in the avidya forest was what you both needed after a stressful day of his "community service" that was mandated after the...everything... that happened.

He spoke little to no words during this walk, simply being by your side while your hands brushed lightly against each others. you were the one to initiate contact, sliding your fingers around his pinkie. he merely glanced at your hands and grunted before looking straight ahead again.

eventually you took hold of his ring finger as well, and then his whole hand which led to where you are now.

"what do you think you're doing?" he asks, eyes glaring sharply at you.

with a small smile on your face, you reply, "i think it's very obvious what i'm doing."

at this, he sucks in his breath through his teeth, looking anywhere but at you while he can still feel your warm breath on his neck, until slowly you lean back.

"do you want me to stop?"

biting his lip and still unable to meet your eyes, he swallows harshly while fidgeting with his one free hand, your hand still gently holding his other one.

"if i wanted you to stop, i would have told you already."

letting out a quick hum, you agree and kiss him once again on his neck before making your way to his jaw, the corner of his mouth, and then finally a quick kiss on his lips, barely lasting a second. seemingly dissatisfied, he groans and grips your chin between his index and thumb.

"that was weak," he says, before pressing his lips more firmly against yours, your eyes fluttering shut while he walks you backwards to the nearest tree. your back hits it with a quiet thud and his free hand soon comes to rest above your head while his other still held yours, effectively pinning you against it.

his mouth moved faster against yours, his body pressing into yours as if he was trying to mold himself with you, like he had been craving your touch for the entirety of his very long existence. the fingers of your free hand eventually find his hair, carding them through the strands and pulling softly.

when he was satisfied, he pulled away, his usual unimpressed scowl returning to his face. "if you're going to kiss me, at least do it right."

"oh? would you like me to pin you to a tree next time?"

"shut it."

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thinking fluffy thoughts about scaramouche.

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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.”

Tiddie Pillow

Falling asleep on their chest

Ft. Diluc, Kaeya, Itto, Dottore

Diluc:

He often works late and finds you exhausted from waiting for him

As much as he insists you should get your sleep even if it means he'll come home to a quiet house, he can't help but feel a guilty joy in knowing you'd stay up for him

So what better way to express his gratitude than to carry you to bed and tuck you in

He'll kiss your forehead as he tells you to get some rest, promising he'll be with you once he's washed up

Then he slides under the covers with you, pulling you on top of him

There's some sort of reassurance in having your weight on him, like a reminder he's not alone

His hand caresses your hair, cradling your head against his chest as his other hand holds your waist

He hums until you're sound asleep, blushing when you murmur how comfy his tiddies are in your sleep

Kaeya:

What is the point of a tiddie window if not for you, his beloved, to have free access to his tiddies?

They're your personal portable pillows

He also runs pretty cold, which makes them perfect for warm days

He enjoys it too, having your face buried in his tiddies to cool off while his own face couldn't be any warmer from how you keep nuzzling your cheeks on him

There's a gentle tingling when he strokes your cheek with his fingertips

And he quite likes the way you bury your face further in his chest when he touches the back of your neck with his cold hands

He'll rest his cheek on your head as his fingers wander from your face to your back and anywhere else within reach

He could get used to this sort of relaxation

Itto:

Did I mention he's a showoff?

You like his tiddies? Well, he's yours, so by extension, they are too

You'll have your face planted slam into them when he pulls you into hugs that are normally quite suffocating

He means well, he just has cuteness aggression because you're the cutest in his eyes

You should probably be a little more mindful though

He might be dense, but even he can see you drooling over his tits

Not that he'd complain though - he flaunts them more around you if anything

Arms, abs, anything for you, really

Like yeah, he knows you think he's hot, and he enjoys having you look at him too

But he's a little slow, so you've a good five minutes of running your hands on his chest before he realises you aren't actually listening to his heartbeat

It's ok, he still loves your horny ass

Dottore:

You're lucky he's deemed you irreplaceable

He noticed you were tired when you accidentally yawned a little too loudly for his liking

And he snapped, asking who would interrupt only to find it was you instead of one of the pesky subordinates

Right, your health was far more delicate then his since you weren't used to neglecting your welfare for weeks on end for the sake of an experiment

He tended to forget that

"Get some rest, you'll be a hindrance if you get sick."

If it were anyone else, it'd be rude since he said it without even looking at you, but let's face it, for Dottore to be concerned whether you're sick??? Favouritism smh

Except there's nowhere to rest in his lab because it's too cluttered and he has the only chair

So you're stuck on his lap not that you mind

You're supposed to rest, so he makes you lean against him and pats your head to make sure you're comfy every now and then

Don't ask how that works ok, that's his affection, take it or leave it

You'll get head scritches if he's frustrated though, so expect to be treated a bit like a personal squeeze toy which is really just brief cuddles

Don't grab his tiddies unless you've convinced him that you're asleep because that's the only way he'll let it slide

Taglist[send an ask to be added/removed]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @euphoric-author @paradise-creator @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @loverofthe-stars @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @howlantic @codename-hiraeth @andreiling01 @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating

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