#(if anyone knows the illustrators name please lmk)

[bunnymajo]

Peppermint Rose - Wrapping Paper Design (1992)

[g1-jaj]

‘Queen of Hearts’ digital illustration by me ❤️

(reference photo of this beauty via @invaderzimbabwe2 )

[starglitterz]

♡ MOONLIGHT SHADOW.

— scaramouche and late night kisses.

feat ; scaramouche x gn!reader

warning(s) ; highly suggestive, cat-and-mouse dynamic kinda, lmk if there's anything 2 tag, not proofread we die like signora

a/n ; basically im a slut for him end of story,,, also this is technically my comeback post hahaha hi <3

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

silvery light filters through the windows, dappling the gently swaying curtains and illuminating the room just enough to illustrate two silhouettes. if you could think straight, you'd realise how the moonlight is artificial; a poor reflection of the sun's natural beams. and perhaps you'd even realise that in this way, the man in front of you is similar to the crescent hanging heavy in the sky – pitiful recreations of a glowing celestial body.

however, at this moment, your head is anything but clear, and this only worsens when scaramouche traces his hand up your thigh. leaning into his fleeting touch as your eyes slide shut, you try to ignore how mocking his physicality is, as if he's awarding you a great honour by being with you like this. yet a second later, you flinch and dart back, your whimper dying on the tip of your tongue thanks to the purposeful zap from his electro delusion still tingling on your skin. a maniacal laugh rips from his throat, and the harbinger smirks at your surprised reaction. what a freak he must be, you ponder absently, to gaze at you like a predator eyes prey.

a tear trickles down your face, an automatic reaction to the sting, though you hastily wipe it away before scaramouche sees. of course he does though, he always notices every little detail about you. "aw, did i make you cry, pretty?" he asks, mirth glimmering in his irises when you glance away, "i'm not crying." "sure looks like you are," he cups your cheek, tilting your face back to him and swiping over the tear streaks with a careful caress of his thumb. it's moments like this when his affection shines through where you can fool yourself that he really loves you, that you're something more than a toy that he loves to tease and push to breaking point.

scaramouche clicks his tongue at your lack of reply, head dipping to your neck to add yet another lovebite to the vast array decorating your skin like a twisted collage of his so-called love for you. a gasp escapes your throat when his teeth sink into you, and your hands tangle in his cropped hair, fingers gripping the strands so tightly your knuckles turn white. you remember when his hair was longer, before kunikuzushi lifted his katana and sliced it off with no hesitation, swearing to himself he would be nothing like what his creator wanted him to be. that was the day he shed his original name and gained another, one that would eventually strike paralysing fear into the hearts of whoever was unlucky enough to hear it.

he presses ever closer to you, just like he always does, trying to close the inevitable distance between you both until there is nothing left but skin against skin. you don't know what he's searching for during nights like these, and you can only hypothesise the morning after when the bed beside you is empty, with crumpled sheets the sole sign anyone else was there.

perhaps the reason he maps out every inch of you so frequently is to satisfy his craving for validation, to know that he isn't worthless, to know that he didn't deserve to be thrown away. and in the end it is hypocritical to deny that is all you want too, so you tumble into bed with him again and again, putting up with all his sick tendencies and never learning from your mistakes just to find hollow adoration in the curves of one another's bodies.

your nails dig into the bare skin of his back, trailing down to leave scars and scratches you know will lead to raised eyebrows and questions. maybe this is your way of getting back at him, to usurp the control he is so obsessed with having. it is almost as if scaramouche's utmost secret wish is to be the puppeteer for once instead of the puppet, dancing to someone else's strings for all of eternity.

but it is a pyrrhic victory, for scaramouche then steals your breath with a kiss, one of hunger and passion and desire and more emotions you cannot possibly begin to explain with words. he chuckles softly after biting your lower lip, pressing his forehead against yours. "you're crazy," you murmur, scanning his indigo eyes to look for any hint of remorse or sadness and finding none. your voice is toneless, reduced to the cold clinicality reserved for stating indisputable facts. though if you asked scaramouche, he'd probably say the timbre of your sentence was edged with awe. "isn't that why you love me?" he answers with a question, proving just how infuriating he can be. you laugh, a peculiar sound considering you're unable to refute him, before wrapping your arms around his neck to tug him closer.

when push comes to shove, you know you'll always choose to fall deeper into the swirling abyss of scaramouche, deeper into the black hole that is kunikuzushi, and deeper into the endless void that defines the balladeer. and when the night sky cracks open with a shock of lightning and a deafening boom of thunder you realise that you can't be bothered to care about the eventual consequences.

© starglitterz 2022. do not repost or modify in any way - reblog / follow if you enjoyed.

[jamiedead]

15 Questions, 11 Mutuals ^-^

Thank you to @frenchywrites and @gay4utica for tagging me! ^-^

Nudging other moots: @sm-writes-chaos @talitha52 @lavender-laney @aurevives @broodparasitism @enne-uni @hallwriteblr (i double checked to make sure it was okay, unsure about the rest of my moots. lmk if you want to be tagged in this and/or in other tag games :3 )

Rules and answers below the cut.

Rules: Answer each question as yourself or as your OC!

-- I'm going to be answering as both myself, and my OC Isaac, my beloved. (Specifically 90s AU Isaac, not Dishonored fan OC Isaac.)

1. Are you named after anyone?

Me: Nope. Jamie is my chosen name and I just liked how it sounded!

Isaac: Not that I know of. My dad named me. It probably meant something to him then.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Me: I can't remember the last time. But I'm replaying Omori, so likely soon.

Isaac: Last phone call with Quinn. I don't want to talk about it.

3. Do you have kids?

Me: No. I don't plan on it.

Isaac: No. I'd suck as a parent.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

Me: Online, not often. IRL, yeah. I'm trying to tone it down.

Isaac: No shit.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Me: Their hands. I like me some good hands!

Isaac: Their eyes, usually. Whatever stands out. But usually eyes.

6. What's your eye color?

Me: Brown!

Isaac: Lighter Brown.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Me: It depends! Scary movies is my instinctual answer, since happy endings usually make me feel weird. Like gross weird, if it's too sappy.

Isaac: Happy endings so I can vicariously live through it.

8. Any special talents?

Me: I used to draw a lot! I wanted to be an illustrator for many years, but I've been extremely creatively burnt out overall and lost my passion for it. I do doodles here and there when I feel inspired, particularly by video games, but I no longer feel the desire to share it, pursue visual art as a profession, or for fame/recognition. I have a lot of thoughts about it, but I don't like talking about it often because it upsets me sometimes if I'm caught in a bad thought cycle. LOL.

Isaac: I ran track in high school. But there's nothing special about me. Quinn says I'm really good at chess though, but I don't even know all the rules. I think he's just so bad that it makes me look good. heh.

9. Where were you born?

Me: NYC.

Isaac: Syracuse, New York State.

10. What are your hobbies?

Me: Writing, listening to new music, and playing video games. Also programming if I have the mental bandwidth for it.

Isaac: Playing bass guitar, riding my bike, people watching, video games, watch MTV. I don't go out much.

11. Do you have any pets?

Me: I have a dog and a cat!

Isaac: I wish I did. I'd want a cool one though. Like a skunk or a spider.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

Me: I did martial arts (karate and tae kwon do) for most of my youth, but discontinued it after moving around too often.

Isaac: I ran track in school. Maybe riding my bike is a sport? I tried skateboarding too but I think I'm too finnicky. My bike has more control.

13. How tall are you?

Me: No comment... v-v

Isaac: 5'8". I dunno what that is everywhere else.

14. Favorite subject in school?

Me: Math and Science.

Isaac: Chemistry. And Home Economics, surprisingly. And ironically. Please don't look at my room.

15. Dream job?

Me: Realistically, a software developer. Ideally, a painter/illustrator/game designer. Again, creative burnout. Brain no work. Brain broken, and I can't fix it... Writing is an exception though! I find writing to be extremely cathartic.

Isaac: Maybe a chef. Or musician, once I get good enough at bass. I don't want to think about it.