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liunnarieisfree · 13 hours

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Insanity is the only way out.

It's been months since the time that we went to Savannah where everything started. If only I knew that it would turn out this way, I would've chosen to sleep in my bed rather than go to Savannah. That place is curse.

"HEY!" I jolted from where I was standing when that voice came out of nowhere.

I heard Aiden laugh because of my reaction. Where did he get all that energy from? Is he not tired from dealing with those Phantoms? Because I am.

I sighed and rolled my eyes at him. I look around looking for that one person who's mostly sane in our group, unlike his cousin.

"Looking for Ben?" Aiden asked.

Obviously, yes. But instead of saying that, I just nodded my head in response.

"He's kind of sick because of those sleepless nights that we had." He said.

"He's having a fever?" I asked.

"Yup." He said with a nod.

Before I could even think properly, I immediately turned around and started walking myself out of the school.

"HEY! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!" Aiden shouted and calling my name.

"To your house." I said, I'm not sure if he heard it, but I don't seem to care.

It took me half an hour to arrive at Aiden's house and I immediately knock at the door hoping that Ben would open it but a few minutes have passed and no one open the door so I decided to twist the door knob hoping that it's not lock. My prayer is answered because the door is not locked, and I walk myself freely inside.

I look around the house, hoping that I'll see Ben.

"Ben! Where are you?" I shouted his name, but when I didn't hear any answer from him, I decided to walk around the house and look for him.

I'm close to Aiden's family because Aiden's mother is my mom's best friend. So, Aiden and I grew up with each other, but I didn't know Ben until recently when he decided to live with Aiden's family. After years of being close with him and his family, there's only one thing that I'm sure at. Their family is no different from mine.

I kept on walking around, hoping that I'll see him, but there's still no sign of him being in here. I went upstairs to knock at Aiden's room, but still no response, same with Ben's room. I've been walking around the house looking for him for half an hour now and I still couldn't find him.

The more time that I spent looking for him, the more I felt fear. I've been feeling this lately to the point that it keeps bugging me, and I couldn't just ignore it.

There's still one room that I haven't gone into and I don't even know if it's safe to go in there because Aiden's family kept telling me that it's the only room I'm not allowed to enter.

I'm not sure if he's in there, but I'm hoping that I'll see him already. I heaved a sigh before walking my way downstairs, which led me towards the basement. The stairs kept on making a sound while I was walking, and that didn't help me at all because it just made me think of those horror movies. I swear if I died in here, I'd cry out of embarrassment because that's the most stupid way to go.

The stairs lead me to a dark wooden door that looks so much older than Aiden's house. I don't know if that's possible. I gather all the courage that I have within me to twist the rusty door knob.

Oh, please help me.

The room is dark because there's no sign of light in here, but my eyes immediately adjust on the dark. Perks of being in a phantom realm.

I look around, hoping that I'll see Ben, but I can't see anything except boxes and papers that are scattered on the floor. This room is filled with dust as if it's not clean for so many years.

I walk around the room looking for him, but there's something that caught my attention. There's an object that's covered with a white blanket, and so out of curiosity, I walk towards it and remove the blanket that is covering the object. As I removed the blanket, dust immediately flew in my direction, which made me cough.

And it shocked me to see a cylinder looking machine. I haven't seen any like this before, so I thought maybe it's just being invented.

While I was busy looking at the machine in front of me, I froze at my place when I heard a static sound like a TV being opened. I felt shivers run through my spine, and I couldn't move. I took a lot of my courage to turn around and look.

And that's the most dumbest thing that I've ever done for today.

The TV is on, and it shows a woman trapped inside of a cylinder machine that looks exactly the same with the machine that's beside me right now. The woman is shouting and laughing at the same time, like she's losing her mind, but she looks more like a phantom in a person's body. But what's at the TV is not something that I should be concerned about. It's the person that is standing beside it.

I saw Ben standing beside the TV with a wide smile on his face, showing his white teeth while his eyes were wide open, looking directly at me. He looks exactly like the woman on the TV. He looks like a phantom.

I was frozen at my spot, and I couldn't move nor utter a single word. My mind keeps telling me to run because the Ben that is in front of me now is not the Ben that I'm looking for.

"Liunnarie." That's the first time that I've heard him speak because he never does that. I never heard him talk. Not even once. Not until now. And the sound of his voice is scratching my brain because he doesn't sound like a person. This is far from what I expected his voice to be. He sounds like a phantom rather than a person.

And that's when I confirm it. It's a phantom that's standing in front of me and not Ben.

#school bus graveyard #ben clark #author x character #fanfic #sbg fandom #sbg fanfic #phantom

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entirelytoooobsessed · 6 months

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Was it worth it?

To hold him in your arms in the dark of night?

To swallow his moans into your mouth, responding with your own?

To feel his heels digging into your spine as he pulls you closer, legs trembling around your hips?

To have his nails clawing into your back deep enough to leave marks and reap blood in his wake.

Was it worth it for the pain and the suffering when it was all over?

When he left, gently kissing over your forehead, careful not to disturb your sleep. Muttering an excuse, deaf to all but his own ears, to soothe only his own pain.

He couldn't stay.

Not when he knew you wanted him to stay. Not when he knew he wanted to stay.

Not when he knew you'd tear your heart out and hand it to him on a bloody platter for him to devour as long as he'd be at your side in the morning.

It'd be all the harder to leave in the morning though.

You looked so calm when you slept. So peaceful, devoid of the sorrow in the wrinkle of your brow when you fucked him. Sad even when he was with your arms, cherishing the moment yet counting down the seconds until you'd be ripped apart from your soul again.

Was it worth it?

Probably not.

Definitely not.

But he was the drug and you were the addict, grasping for more even when you knew you should stop.

"Fuck~" to hear him moan and sob under your touch, feel the pain and the pleasure boiling over the top into ecstasy. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

To look at him, even if he wasn't looking back at you, eyes squeezed shut because unlike you he had some means of self-preservation.

"Harder, harder." Even if he sounded pathetic you knew you were none the better, after all here you were again, waiting at beck and call for him when he wanted another good fuck.

His inner walls squeezing around your length, the sheets under him soaked with his release and nearly ripped from his fist's grip. His body pressed so close against yours you couldn't tell where you stopped and he began.

Meshed so closely together you could be deluded fooled into thinking that you were finally one. One heart. One soul. One body.

But it was a lie. He held your heart and soul and left your body behind every night when he left you.

Your head buries into his neck, hiding the raw emotion spilling over the edge-even if he wasn't looking at you to begin with. His voice a hoarse desperate chant, losing his mind all while being entirely wrapped around you.

"Cum in me, please cum in me. Make me yours, fill me up so full of you I'll never forget it~"

Fuck.

Was it worth it?

No.

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metalheads-trash-bin · 4 months

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Hello everyone! My name is Toby, I’m a beginner writer and love to make shit uber realistic for readers. Here’s all the info about my stuff!

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Key:

Ships

Notices

Warnings

Fandoms

Baseline importance

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So far I have three fanfics, a fourth is on the way.

All of my fics will be linked down below! They are wips, so please be patient. Each has their own schedule so make sure to read!

All fanfics will have nsfw, and I don’t mean the basic “stick penis in hole” shit. I mean detailed, loving, and non vanilla nsfw.

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TROLLS:

The first one is my all time fav: Fliff! It goes into Floyd’s trauma, his healing, and realistic dynamics between the characters. This fanfic will be updated twice a week, it used to be updated every day but that’s not survivable long term for me ^^

The second one is Breek! Creek is in no way infantilized in this fanfic. I look at things in a psychological aspect and make damn well sure he’s not babygirlified. This fic goes into Creek’s trauma, Branch’s trauma, allll the trauma, a bunch of healing, and a little bit of angst. It’s updated whenever I feel, but it won’t be abandoned or rarely touched!

The third one is John Dory x Reader! In this it talks about JD’s trauma, some headcanons of his diagnostics, and a bunch of intimate stuff and heart to heart stuff. He is not glamorized in this fic, instead he’s recovering and in therapy. He also has a smallll teeny weeny alcohol issue, but he’s in therapy for that as well! The reader is a trans male, fat L if you can’t handle that. <3 It’s updated whenever I feel just like the Breek fic, but it won’t be abandoned or rarely touched!

The fics are interconnected, so if you see a ship or lore that’s in one of them, assume it’ll be mentioned or involved in the other!

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CREEPYPASTA:

I am currently working on ideas for a rework of a Jeff x reader fic I read. It had a really nice plot but the execution was absolutely horrendous + it was abandoned. I’ll type more info as I update!

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Where else you can contact me or see my content:

Insta: _.metalheads.trash.bin._

Twitter: _mhs_trash_bin_

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And with that…

!!Release the hounds!!

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TROLLS:

Summary:

Floyd is forced into therapy after Branch takes him to his annual checkup since he's staying with him.

Branch's reason for sending him being that he notices Floyd's facade of "being fine" and totally not traumatized even toward a doctor. This leads to him sitting in therapy, which in turn gives him homework. Whats the first assignment you ask?

Making friends besides your brothers and Poppy.

Who better than Barb, the queen of rock, as a starting point??

Summary:

It was the last few weeks of fall, Branch heading to the forest to get the final harvest for the season. There were rumors of an animal lurking around the farm, he didn't realize that that animal was a familiar face.

Summary:

You're a metal/rock troll starting a new life in Pop Village. During one of your bonding activities with Branch, you notice a large creature in the meadow.

Why not pay the owner a visit??

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CREEPYPASTA:

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PS. I have a shit ton of playlists on Spotify of ships, characters, and more! Check em out down below~

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Enjoy! <3

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liesmyth · 6 months

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would you be able to give examples/explain more about how race only impacts gideon in the tlt-universe? not being facetious or condescending, genuinely asking. thank you!

Hi anon! If you mean my tags to this post, I wrote

#earth conception of race doesn't impact any character in the series except the canonically brown main antagonist

By which I mean my Worstie and main antagonist of the series, John Gaius (PhD).

I don’t think TLT as a series engages with race in any especially meaningful ways. It’s set in a post-Earth society with entirely different social norms, and there’s no concept of race and ethnicity within the population of the Nine Houses. Physical descriptions of the characters are scarce to say the least, and they rarely spell out the kind of features that suggest specific racial connotations, because the POV characters don’t seem to think it’s something worth remarking upon. iirc, it takes until halfway through HtN for the narrative to confirm that Harrow has brown skin.

[See also Tamsyn’s GtN characters description post. It quotes passages from the book, and you can see how minimal the descriptions are, and she repeats several times that her characters’ appearances are up to the readers’ interpretations. It just doesn’t seem to be a big concern of hers]

Then there’s John, who grew up in twenty-first-century New Zealand and IS explicitly Māori in a way that absolutely impacted his character arc. It's not A major theme of his Nona chapters, but it’s there if you read between the lines. The boarding school he went to, which IRL had a high percentage of low-income Māori students on scholarship. The depth of his climate anxiety, his uncompromising “Nobody left behind” stance before the cryo project was halted, and his fervent hatred of ‘the trillionaires’ afterwards... these are all informed to some extent by his background as an indigenous man imo, and so was the global reaction to his developing powers. The “We were going to put you fellas in jail, weren’t we?” the way his initial attempts at publications are all flat-out ignored by the scientific community and dismissed as culty gimmicky faith healing until he leans into it.

John being Māori is just one of the many pieces of his backstory, and far from the most impactful to what eventually went down, but my point remains that he is the ONLY character in TLT whose racial background 1) affects his story arc and 2) is relatable to the audience. Everyone else is ten thousand years removed from Earth, and I’m just not very interested in using racial identifiers when exploring these characters and their dynamics, because the characters themselves don’t care and neither does the narrative.

#on a more hashtag meta level #John is why I’m personally uneasy about any analysis of the series that tries to interpret TLT through racial allegory lenses #especially when it’s weaponised for discourse purposes #You can write meta about John’s war crimes without comparing him to white imperialism #Or you can go ahead and do that anyway but I highkey disagree that it’s a fitting metaphor or in any way deliberate on Tamsyn’s part #and I think the implications are unfortunate to say the least #That said I AM extremely interested in the ways John relates to the culture he left behind #and why he made the choices he did when it came the moment to reshape humanity’s cultural consciousness after the Resurrection #but that’s on a character level!#I don’t think we can apply twenty-first-century social / identity labels to the series as a whole #especially a series where the author says 'I imagine X character as Y but it doesn't raelly matter'#and it doesn't influence the canon directly in any way #SORRY THIS IS LONG!#anonymous #ask #ejg #tlt thoughts #elle tlt posting #tlt

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lorraine1819 · 10 months

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Author Danny

So I've been seeing a lot of Danny having different careers other than being a superhero, so i present to you 'AUTHOR DANNY' or more accurately 'FANFIC WRITER DANNY'

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Part 1 ?

Everything is fine. No matter what everyone else say, everything is fine. He was totally not having a mental breakdown or anything. Actually, he was doing an amazing job hiding it- not that there was anything to hide. Of course, that was until Wes found him hiding beside the school dumpster and said the dreaded words "are you okay?"

That question was all it took for Danny to tell him everything. From his declining grades, to his parents last attempt to capture him (as phantom) and just has a mental breakdown. It was like a Dam of words just spilled. (Jazz would be proud that he is talking about his problems)

Wes who was not really expecting such a huge mental breakdown to happen gave him the one advice that always helped him whenever he was overwhelmed. ✨ writing fanfictions ✨ ( and by helped he meant distract him from the problem) and advices Danny that if he didn't know what to write, then he could probably take inspiration from other fanfic writers/promt writers *cough* tumbler *cough*

Danny being oh so desperate for a distraction proceeds to go through many apps and websites reading fanfiction taking notes on the fanfictions that he liked/ could take inspiration from and found himself enjoying fanfictions that are more focused on the JL, or more accurately the fanfics that includes their well known/potential love interests. (Basically romance fanfics about the JL) (also wes's advice worked)

And so he ended up writing his own fanfictions. Those fanfics being:

*Batman x Brucie,

*Red Robin x Superboy (Kon-El),

*Superman x Brucie Wayne,

*Green Lantern x Green Arrow,

*Martian Manhunter x Superman,

*Flash x Green Lantern

*Robin x Superboy (Jon)

*and etc.

But here is the twist. Danny sister is Jazz and she wants to be a psychologist; and so whenever she rants to Danny some of it stick to him. So the fanfics he writes ends up being so emotional with so many deep meanings that could be interpreted into so many different meanings.

He showed his fanfics to Jazz, Sam, Tucker and the cause of this all, Wes. All of them really enjoyed reading everything he wrote. It made some pretty interesting debates whether which heroes would be compatible for relationship; in the end Batman x Brucie Wayne always won.

#dp x dc prompt #Danny phantom #Dp x DC #Dp characters #Author Danny #Fanfic writers #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc writing prompt

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miraclecherryblossomsblog · 7 months

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I TOTALLY FORGOT I DID SOME WHEN I FIRST STARTED IN THE FANDOM THANK GOD I STILL HAVE THEM!! That and my lil ghost fish au! Might redesing him later

A/n: the girl with the pink stripe hair is an oc from a ol buddie in twitter (i deactivated sorry)

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jester089 · 6 months

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…Can I have the digital circus gang with an s/o who kicks Jax’s a$$ when he goes too far in his ‘pranks’. So like, they’ll let a few remarks, jabs and ‘lighter’ pranks through if they don’t actually hurt anyone. But things like infesting Ragatha’s room with bugs, tormenting Pomni about her situation/mental state, breaking Gangle’s mask, stealing and hiding Zooble’s parts, demolishing Kinger’s impenetrable fortress or even royally messing up Caine’s adventures or shows for a laugh will get him in all sorts of trouble.

Sorry for the long request, rewatched TADC after Helluva Boss’s newest episode (omg so gooooood) and wanted some revenge for how much of a prick Jax is to everyone.

A well deserved A&% kicking

FINALLY! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS REQUEST! I HAVE WANTED TO KICK JAX'S TEETH IN SINCE HE TRIPPED RAGATHA AND PUSHED GANGLE IN THE MEET THE CHARACTERS TEASER! Don't take that as I don't want fluffy requests for him. Cause I do. I've just waiting for enough reason to write about this concept for a little while. Jax x Reader who fights back

Jax hated you. Well more then the others at least cause you were the only one who wouldn't just let him get away with any and everything. And he despised you for that. Because of his track record you don't trust him, and can come across as a little protective over the others when it comes to him. You all are literally trapped in a digital circus. You don't need more problems. And Jax is just a walking problem. One time he found a pair of scissors and cut up Gangle and hid her in a box that he buried outside. When you found out about it you comforted Gangle and helped her get Caine so she could be in one piece again. You kicked the absolute s&@# out of him once you were sure Gangle was at least kind of ok. You wish you could do some actual damage but sadly that isn't possible in the circus. So you left him tied up and with tape over his mouth quiet corner that no one visits. He deserves it. And the week and a half he was gone was really calm and enjoyable only reinforcing the fact that he makes living here so much harder then it needs to be. In the time he was gone you broke into his room to make sure he didn't have anything else he could use to hurt others. You took everything that could be a problem as well as all his keys, so he couldn't get into everywhere anymore. But good news is you have made the circus a much safer and calmer place. And Jax's "pranks" have slowed a ton cause he can't just do anything whenever he wants anymore. He actually has to think about it and be careful not to get caught. Bad news is because of you his more sadistic tendencies have spiked since he can't constantly vent them. So the "pranks" he does do are much more messed up. His "pranks" can be awful at the best of times, and with you he actually has a reason and want to cause problems and pain. So watch your back. Cause you've made enemies with the most sadistic person there. (I wrote this in like a minute. I get it's kind of short but I thoroughly enjoyed writing this. Thank you for the request! And I hope you enjoyed!)

(Little heads up I updated my request rules so please check back before you request something. Thank you again!) xoxo, Jester

Edit: I'm so sorry. I didn't see TADC crew's S/O. I thought you wanted just like my ideas. I can re write this if you want.

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #noob author #not beta'd #Jax is a strangely universally loved character #Like don't get me wrong he's kind of attractive #But I go for personallity #So I hate him

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spicywhenspeaking · 3 months

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Star-Crossed Connection Masterpost

A fake dating romance AU

paring Nick Folio x Original Female Character Seraphina Holloway

Seraphina Holloway is Hollywood’s new it girl. But, when an embarrassing viral video of her ex / costar publicly dumping her goes viral, she thinks she needs a quick fix to help maintain her image. When she’s set to appear at her new movies premier she scrambles to find a date to bring that will help take the white hot spotlight away from her public dumping and show that she’s still desirable to all. Enter Nick Folio, drummer of the metalcore band that’s taking over the scene, Bad Omens. He’s a sweet down to earth guy with a heart of gold and when a smokin hot movie star asks him to be her fake boyfriend for a week he agrees to help. But will the line between fake feelings and reals ones start to blur when Seraphina lets her true self show.

Tags are open!

❤️‍🔥 : smut

Chapters: one two three

#nick folio #folio #nick folio x ofc #original female character #folio x ofc #ofc #fake dating #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #nick folio fanfiction #Nick folio fic #folio fic #smut #bad omens fluff #bad omens smut #nick folio smut #nick folio fluff #author : spicywhenspeaking

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starry-night-author · 8 months

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I just found your blog and I LOVE your writing! Can I request a Hero that gets kidnapped by a yandere Villain???

Teeheee a classic :3 thank you!!!!

Prompt #22

Hero had to try their hardest not to cry as they were the one who had to pay for dinner. Taking the card back from the waiter and picking up their boxed-up leftovers they stood, tucking their chair back beneath the table. Trying to keep their eyes off the chair opposite them, the one that Superhero hadn't even bothered to push in.

Should they push it back in? If they didn't, the restaurant employees would have to.

Sighing, they walked over and pushed Superhero's empty seat back beneath the table.

Hero managed to keep in their tears as they walked through the restaurant, but once they reached the chilly night air, they couldn't cram their sobs down any longer. They let their tears run down their face to drip into their scarf as they pulled out their phone to arrange for someone to come pick them up.

Hero and Superhero had only been dating for a few months, but breakups always hurt. Especially ones that had come out of nowhere. Superhero had been gentle with them, saying they could still be friends and they would be happy to see them at work on Monday- but they'd still left as soon as they were done, leaving Hero halfway through their spaghetti and to pay for both of their meals.

The crime-stopper hadn't had the appetite to finish their dinner, and had only waited until they were sure Superhero was gone before boxing it up and leaving.

Out here in the cold, alone, Hero felt oddly weightless. Detached. Drifting into space.

"Alone on a Friday night? God, you're pathetic."

Hero jumped, looking up. "W-what?"

Someone slipped from the shadows next to the building, cast by the bright streetlights from above. It took Hero a moment to recognize them, but once they did, they were quickly wiping away their tears and hoping the newcomer hadn't noticed. "Villain! What are you doing here?"

The villain grinned, showing startlingly white teeth that almost seemed to glow in the dark night. Their smile looked stretched, forced. "Got stood up."

"Oh," Hero sighed. "Mine at least actually showed up."

"And yet you're alone?"

"And yet I'm alone." They looked back down at their phone. "Superhero was my ride, too."

A hand on their arm, Hero jumped. They hadn't heard Villain get that close.

The criminal's voice was quiet, dangerously smooth. "I've got a car, I can take you home."

Hero offered them a hesitant smile. "I-I'll be alright."

"Oh, come on, Hero! We're both off duty, and you know me. You don't even have to give me your exact address if you don't want to, I'll drop you wherever you need." They pressed closer, breath pluming in the cold night and their voice a purr. "You should really get out of this cold."

Hero sighed. They were miserable, they didn't want to think, to have to take care of themself. They just wanted to get home as soon as possible so they could cry. "Alright."

They let Villain lead them over to their shiny dark car, parked beneath one of the street lamps. Moths and mosquitoes whizzed in front of the light, casting strange moving shadows down on the road. They sat in the passenger's seat, and Villain offered them the GPS as soon as they were settled. "Put your address in there," they prompted.

Hero chose a street a few blocks from theirs, not wanting to let their enemy know exactly where they lived. Villain accepted the GPS back without a word, turning the car on and pulling smoothly out of the parking lot.

"So," Villain started as they turned onto the main highway that ran throughout the city. "How's your week been?"

"Fine," Hero sighed, leaning against the window. "Until today."

"What happened?" The criminal glanced at them. "If you're alright with saying."

Hero gave a brief overview of their relationship with Superhero and of their date tonight, and Villain frowned sympathetically. "I'm sorry. They don't know what they're losing."

Hero smiled faintly, wiping at their freshly wet eyes. "Thanks. What about you?"

"There's tissues in the glove compartment if you need any. Mine at least was a first date, this would've been my first time meeting them in person." Villain shrugged, then cast a sly glance at them. "What are the odds we both ended up ditched by our dates on the same night at the same place?"

Hero had already blown their nose, they were using the tissue to wipe their eyes again when they hesitated. What were the odds of that? "You weren't following me, were you?" It was only half a joke.

"Hm? Oh, no. I've got too many things to do to be following little heroes around." Their tone was teasing. "Don't flatter yourself."

Nerves slightly quelled, Hero leaned back in their seat. "Well, at least I can have the leftovers for lunch tomorrow or something."

Street lamps whizzed by overhead, casting beams of light in the car that sped by quickly. The scenery outside was a blur to Hero, they were too lost in their surprise and sadness to register much of it. Villain seemed to know where they were going though, so they didn't bother themself with it. The criminal hadn't replied to their point, allowing a lull in the conversation to give Hero a moment to zone out. Their earlier odd weightlessness having time to return.

It took them a moment to come back to themself. "Oh, thanks for the ride."

"Of course," Villain smiled, eyes still on the dark road. "It'd be against my morals not to help you out."

It was true, despite their ruthless reputation, Villain had always been quite nice to the hero. Though the most they'd ever interacted before this was once when Hero had been on an assignment to destroy a weapon Villain had made, the criminal had seemed quite understanding about the destruction and had even slipped Hero some bandages for the cut they'd accidentally given them. It was part of why Hero had accepted help from their nemesis, this amount of generosity wasn't unusual from them. They were oddly trustworthy in that regard.

That being said, the rumors circulating about Villain went entirely against that. According to the whispers, they were a terribly malicious, cruel, and downright hurtful. They mistreated their henchmen. They'd killed their last assigned hero. They didn't care about the civilian lives their schemes cost, in fact, they went out of their way to cause them.

But surely, seeing Villain now, those had to be false. Or possibly exaggerations, spread by Villain themself to keep other villain's with messing with them. That wasn't unheard of, in fact, Hero could think of several past villains who had done the same thing.

"So, what will you do without Superhero?" Villain picked up the conversation. "Is it too soon to ask if you will want to start dating again?"

"Why, you asking me out?" Hero joked. Villain's kindness warmed their sadness, already making them feel a little better. "No, not really. I don't want to be single, but I don't want to go through the whole process of meeting someone new."

"I hear that," Villain sighed. "You could always try sparking something with someone you already know."

Hero shook their head. "I feel like all my friends are just that. Friends. And there's not many people outside of that I know very well."

"What about enemies?" Villain teased.

The crime-stopper laughed, going along with the joke. "Oh sure, let me just call up the list of villains I'm supposed to bring in by next week."

"Am I on that list?"

Knowing it was a joke Hero laughed again, shaking their head and sitting back in their chair. Villain really did know how to cheer them up, they were glad they'd gone with them tonight. "Don't know, I'll have to look through it."

"Write mine at the bottom if I'm not there, why don't you?"

Hero snorted, their laughter subsiding as they leaned against the window. "Yeah, well, it's probably too soon anyway. I liked Superhero, I don't know if I can get used to someone else so soon."

"Hm." Villain looked back at the road, letting out a breath.

Hero sat up, tapping the window. "Oh, hey, I think you missed the turn, my place is that way?" Maybe they were taking a different route?

"We're not going back to your place."

"W-what?" Hero blinked.

Villain's gaze was hard set as they glared out the windshield, their expression suddenly much more serious than Hero had seen it all night. "We're not going back to your place." They repeated.

Hero was beginning to panic, their earlier contentedness slipping away like the rushing objects outside. "W-why?"

"Because if no one out there can treat you right, then they don't get to have you."

#HOPE I DID IT RIGHT #I've never like consciously done a yandere character before so it was a cool set of guidelines to follow!!!#hero x villain #villain x hero #hero #villain #writing #prompt #writing prompt #hero x villain community #heroes and villains #starry-night-author #superhero #thanks for the ask!#anon ask #hero x superhero #superhero x hero

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alwaysmicado · 2 months

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Nathan Bateman - Fic Rec

A collection of my favorite Nathan Bateman fics. Have fun and please show these incredibly talented authors some love for their work! 🤍 (-> Feel free to send me your faves / your own fics to add!)

✨ @reallyrallyauthor ✨

🌟 Nathan Bateman Masterlist

The Shower Room

The Empty Room

Sympathy

Assembly Required

The Family Dog

Failure Tea

Nathan Bateman is an asshole

Blurb - Nailing It

✨ @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction ✨

🌟 Nathan Bateman Masterlist

Perfect Little Fuck Toy

Fever

Good Morning

Only A Fool Would Say That

Any Time

Ebo

Belated

Extremely Feminine S/O Headcanons

In Pain

Get Well Soon

How [pt. 1] How [pt. 2]

✨ @melodygatesauthor ✨

Fuckin' Stupid

How Romantic

Centerpiece

✨ @romana-after-dark ✨

Pushing Buttons

✨ @leoluved ✨

chase and pull

indulge me

old fashioned

✨ @youvebeenlivingfictional ✨

Kinktober Day 9 - Pegging

✨ @ivystoryweaver ✨

Perfect Fit [pt. 1]

Perfect Fit thots

#fic rec #author rec #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x you #nathan bateman #nathan bateman fic #nathan bateman smut #nathan bateman angst #nathan bateman fanfiction #nathan bateman fluff #nathan bateman ex machina #ex machina fanfiction #oscar isaac characters

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ezralva · 5 months

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Two weeks after anime Nanami's death and there are still ppl bitching about how sick Gege is to k*ll off his favorite character brutally like that. I started to think those ppl conveniently skipped the fact that Gege had canonically wrote Nanami as the most gentleman and (not) arguably had the best personality among JJK's adults that made his character so loved by many. That the way his death was narrated is without question better than other deaths in the story. As we saw him gave his best to protect others and being worn down first then his last moments with Yuuji and Haibara. That it was clearly shown how impactful his death was for Yuuji. That all of those narratives combined made Nanami such an unforgettable supporting character. Which spoke a lot about how Gege treated Nanami as a character and it's definitely not a bad writing or doing him ugly.

#i know GG said he didnt intend to k*ll him at first and that he was k*lled off cz his power and role cud not progress further than shibuya #then if he decided to make Nanamin left with such impact rather than his role being overshadowed by other new stronger characters so what #the author saw it from wider scopes how a supporting chara fills their roles to support the protags etc while readers will usually just car #abt their supporting role for the protag how they fulfill their role for the story etc while readers will prolly have one bias or two and #cudnt care less about the other characters #like idk why they keep comparing jjk to other big names shounen and wrote it off as gege's ugly writing when gg always said jjk won't be #like other shounen?#my thoughts #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanamin #kento nanami #jjk #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you

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scarletteye · 1 month

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Soft and Smitten Scaramouche/Wanderer

I went through my scara fics recently and giggled at my own writing whenever Scaramouche acted soft/smitten. So I figured if I can be delulu about it, you can be delulu too!!!!

I made a smol collection of some of my fave moments, where I lowkey just explore his dynamic with someone he is smitten with (in my fics case, its the reader character) and appreciate how drop-dead gorgeous he is.

GORGEOUS I SAY. anyways, enjoy the clipsss, the fic will be linked at the end of the post! This story takes place in his Wanderer era! Just a heads up. I also can make a collection of him being smitten in his Scaramouche era, just lemme know if u want it!

Without further ado, I present to you: Scaramouche in love!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The Withered in Bloom Ch. 14

It was ridiculous to think that basket weaving could take whole 5 days to finish, yet as soon as you woke up, your brother notified you that they need your assistance with the baskets. At least he let you enjoy breakfast before he hurried you to the busy deck. All of your forest-ranger colleagues greeted you excitedly – everybody was over their job, and everybody wanted to finish the baskets as soon as possible. This was supposed to be the last day. The rest of the week was predicted for a full inventory check, but that was a job for the Forest Watchers.

You found a relatively cozy spot on the ground and began weaving. At this point your fingers had memorized the necessary movements, allowing you to work on autopilot and tie the basket together without mistakes. It also allowed your mind to wander, and you found yourself thinking back about the Sanctuary of Surasthana and your last conversation with Scaramouche. (...)

As if on cue, you heard the song of bells flutter through the air. A warm breeze blew across the deck, scattering away a few pieces of straw and bringing the melody to your ears. Though the sound filled your skin with goosebumps, you felt your lips twist into a gentle smile.

It had been a few days since you last spoke to him. He asked you for secrecy before you left, so you never disclosed your past or anything that was said between you to anybody. Though you weren’t sure whether Scaramouche told you to keep quiet because he was ashamed or because he didn’t want to burden anybody else with knowledge about your past. You agreed with him nonetheless. Your brother seemed happier since Irminsul changed your reality. Cyno seemed happier, too. He was less paranoid, and he allowed himself to relax with Tighnari instead of constantly watching you like a hawk. You weren’t planning on telling them anything.

The bells became louder. You heard his faint footsteps behind you – even and light strides that were barely audible behind the chiming of his hat accessories. Feeling his presence, you put your half-finished basket down, and turned around to face him with a smile.

He stood above you, wearing a deadpanned expression as he looked down at your heart-warming gesture. His arms stood crossed against his chest.

“Good morning,” you greeted warmly.

“It is noon,” he retorted blankly.

“Oh. Wait. Really?”

Seeing your genuine confusion, his lips pulled into a lopsided smirk. He untangled his arms and walked in front of you, finding an empty spot on the ground where he elegantly plopped down. “Obviously. Have I ever lied to you, darling?”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Seriously?” he huffed. “I’ve never told you anything dishonest. I merely kept the truth from you at times.”

His fingers gingerly reached for the box of straw that you kept at your side. He began pulling out pieces, skillfully finding long straws that he could twist and tie together. Scaramouche was silent as he worked, focusing on the knots that his slender fingers tied with ease. The straw looked sturdy in his hands, whilst seeming extra frail in yours. Perhaps it was the way he held it that made it seem like an entirely different art form.

“When did you learn how to weave baskets?” you questioned. Your gaze was locked on his hands that worked diligently and quickly, creating an entire hoop of straw in less than a minute.

“I’ve been alive for nearly 500 years,” he mused. “Do you think I had spent that time living isolated from the world? I know more than you’d guess.”

It was still strange to you to think that he wasn’t human. He looked like everyone else. He looked soulful and alive – like a normal human who is just slightly more attractive than the norm. Whenever you looked at him, you didn’t see a puppet nor a monster. Truthfully, you didn’t care what he was anymore. If you could live through him being a God, you could also accept that he had been alive for hundreds of years.

Scaramouche eyed you carefully as he noticed your silence. Catching a glimpse of him doing that, you offered him a gentle smile. “Like what?”

It was his turn to fall mute. It seemed as if he didn’t expect you to be interested, or rather he expected you to be shocked and horrified by his life span. In the end Scaramouche only shrugged, and his fingers continued to twist the straw into hoops and knots. “Anything you could think of.”

“Playing the lyre?”

“Why?” he questioned you now. “Is there any specific song that you like hearing?”

You snapped your fingers as a shout of victory. “So you do play the lyre!”

Scaramouche rolled his eyes at you. “Yes, darling. I can play the lyre. I am skilled in swordsman ship, and knitting and weaving arts…” his voice trailed off. “I suppose I am well skilled with my hands.”

You blinked at him, feeling heat surge to your ears. His expression remained unchanged, and it seemed as if he didn’t notice that he said something questionable. Or maybe, you were the weird one for finding dirty undertones in something that wasn’t meant to be dirty.

“Well. Skilled with both hands and mind,” he continued, now sounding as if he were bragging. “I suppose I am just exceptional.”

You cleared your throat. “Humble brag.”

Scaramouche shot you a glare. First he looked at your rosy face, and then at the basket that remained unchanged under your hands. “Do you plan to let me do all of your work?” he grumbled. “I didn’t come here to become a Forest ranger. If you plan to slack off, I will leave and let you abuse someone else’s goodwill.”

“I didn’t even ask you to help,” you defended yourself.

“Well if I don’t help you, you’ll be stuck doing this for the rest of the day. And as much as I enjoy watching you struggle, I’d prefer if we could do something else.”

“What a charmer,” you grumbled, forcing yourself to start working on the basket again. You worked slowly, repeating the weaving patterns that you always used. Scaramouche passed you the hoop that he had created. As your fingers grazed his, you felt a strong flutter in your stomach. You tried to act normal as you cojoined his creation to yours. The difference in style was more than apparent, and it made the basket look ridiculous. He didn’t seem to care, and he instead continued to grab pieces of straw to make more.

You worked in silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence. Every now and then Scaramouche would toss you a complaint or a masked compliment regarding the basket, but you preferred for him to be silent. There was just something about him in this lighting. Sunlight hit his face perfectly, illuminating his purple eyes and making his red make up seem more vibrant. You liked the way his brows furrowed as he concentrated, and you liked the way his accessories jingled in the breeze. His pretty hat and the golden accents nearly shone in the sunlight, and the sheer mesh of his undershirt seemed lighter than it did in the shade. His Anemo Vision silently glowed against his shoulder, falling nearly hidden by the lotus that hung over it, and weighted down by the golden feather accessory.

Now you knew what that lotus flower meant. It was the same type of flower that he gave you before your first kiss. The same type of flower that you gifted to him as an apology. He kept the memoir.

You smiled to yourself, failing to notice how Scaramouche stopped working to observe you. His eyes glazed your entire face, and his expression turned more relaxed with each passing breath.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The Withered in Bloom Ch. 15

You were so pleasantly surprised by Scaramouche's behavior that you decided to award him with tea - the most bitter vile mixture you could make, but he drank it all without complaint. It seemed as if he enjoyed the bitter taste and you hardly held back from calling him insane. You were someone who preferred sweet over bitter. Though, that stark difference between you was the lightest among the bunch.

You spent the entire afternoon sitting with him and moving around Ghandarva ville to avoid chores. You mostly talked about your family and how they felt about Scaramouche after last night, and he seemed to listen carefully, despite looking distracted.

Noticing how he was observing the remnants of the tea that decorated the walls of the mug, you nudged his shoulder and began to tease him. “Are you trying to read your future? I heard that the tea leaf technique is quite rare.”

He looked at you unamused, before forcing a smirk. “Naturally. Divination is a very taxing profession. Only those with exceptional talents can dabble with fate.”

“Exceptional such as you, of course” you decided to entertain him. “So what do the leaves say?”

“They say I’m about to become very, very lucky.”

“It is nice to know that the leaves want you to have a good day,” you nodded enthusiastically. “What else?”

He let out a chortle. For a split second, his smile turned genuine, and then his face fell to its usual serious position. You felt your heart fluttered. Did you just make him laugh? Did you just…

“Let’s see,” he twisted the mug around. “Here we have. Prophecy of being lectured by a god. The curse of a blabbering companion who can’t keep her mouth shut. And oh…” he swiped his finger against the inside of the mug, tapping it against your face and staining your skin with green. You leaned back in surprise.

You watched him with big eyes. He smirked at you before putting his mug down. “I can’t believe you fell for that. Have you learned nothing from your journey? You shouldn’t be so naïve.”

“Was that some sort of Inazuman trick that people use on children?” you asked, wiping your face that began heating from embarrassment. “Because I will kick you off the deck.”

You were sitting on the edge of the second level of the village, far from anybody. Night was falling over the rainforest, and in turn the air turned louder. Cicadas, birds, signing rangers… the sound of warm evenings and of eternal summer. Every night in the rainforest sounded similar. The sky turned darker with each passing minute, showing more and more stars to those that paid attention.

It had been a while since you sat like this to watch them. In fact, the last time you did, you were with Scaramouche. Back then you knew him as the Wanderer, and you never expected him to be anything else. That night he told you horrible stuff – about you being abandoned and about you never finding true family. It made sense to you now. He projected his insecurities onto you that night, and they hit you deeply because you two, despite your differences, weren’t that fundamentally different.

“It’s not a common trick,” he stated. As he put the mug aside, you noticed his expression turn more sullen. “But the people that taught me used it on me a few times. I suppose it just stuck with me…”

You tilted your head curiously. You wanted to ask. You were actually dying to know more about him, but you knew how he got when asked sensitive questions.

He sighed. “If you must know,” he grumbled, sensing your curiosity. “They were a group of swordsmiths and miners who operated the smelting furnace in Tatatarsuna. It’s an island in Inazuma. The furnace was the biggest in the nation and used to smelt special ore that they could shape into finest blades. I’m not sure why I’m pointing that out. It is irrelevant,” he mumbled, sounding annoyed by himself all of the sudden.

“Oh. No. Actually, I never heard of it so…”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Okay, you don’t have to insult me now.”

“I’m not trying to,” he grumbled. Realizing that you were accidentally stopping him from telling his story, you cleared your throat and looked up at the sky. As you fell silent, he realized that you were waiting for him to continue. All thought your act was theatrical, it worked. He continued to share some light on his backstory. “I was a child. I had just wandered off alone to the shores of that island, when they found me. Needless to say, they were horrified to find somebody like me. Alone and abandoned. They pitied me and took me under their wing. There, amidst the mine, I believed I had found family.”

His eyes dimmed. He was looking at the sky, but his mind wandered off to the distant past. “They taught me all the basics of your human lives. How to tie knots. How to prepare meals. How to shape swords from molten iron… They were just a group of good-hearted men who tried to raise me. They tried to entertain me by using tricks and jokes. The trick with the mug. Anecdotes. Quizzes. The more I think about it, the more I realize just how unnecessary those were.”

You looked at him. Your heart felt full because of his story. You always believed he never had a family. It seemed as if he did. They even sounded lovely but… the look in his eyes told you that there was more. Maybe something happened to them, or maybe they disappointed him somehow, because the look in his eyes told you that it wasn’t a pleasant memory.

“It sounds like they really tried to give you a happy childhood.”

“I suppose,” he responded dully. “It doesn’t matter anymore. That was a long time ago. A mere fraction of my life.”

“But… that doesn’t make it meaningless, does it?”

He looked at you, seeming seldom-annoyed and seldom-comforted. It was always difficult to tell with him. In the end, he let out a sigh and looked up at the sky. The stars had grown clearer, showing you a beautiful painting of the galaxy.

A cold breeze flew past you, and you shivered. The night was drastically colder than the day, and you had left your jacket in Tighnari’s infirmary when leaving your teammates. You swiped your hands across your arms, trying to warm your skin.

“Here,” Scaramouche quietly said. He began untying his tunic. It covered him somewhat loosely, so it wasn’t difficult to get it off. He had trouble with getting his Vision off without damaging the Lotus that he strung close to it, but other than that, his tunic was off in a few seconds. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander to his bare shoulders. The sleeves shirt that covered his torso left little to the imagination, but at night it looked dark enough to hide his skin under it.

Your eyes stayed on his bicep for a bit too long because you were sure he noticed. The corners of his lips twisted upwards, and despite his best attempt to control his facial expression, he showed exactly how much your stares entertained him.

He wrapped his tunic around you, and you huddled under it gratefully. It was warm. As warm as his body whenever you hugged him. And it smelled like him too. You realized you were a bit too fond of that feeling once you pulled the tunic all the way over your chest. You weren’t that cold, but the sheer comfort of being in his clothes nearly convinced you that you would be freezing if you took it off.

“Had I know you were freezing, I would have suggested we head indoors,” he teased. “Though, considering how much you’re staring at me; I’m guessing you are finding this quite enjoyable.”

You were at a loss for words. Your brain felt empty – there was no excuses and no explanations for you to use. Your face turned red, and you were incapable of hiding it. The least you could do was huff and roll your eyes at him. “Somehow you’re more charming when you’re trying to insult me.”

There it was again. A glimpse of a genuine smile that made you feel crazy flattered. To think that you were capable of getting this kind of reaction from him was mind boggling. “I never try to be charming, darling. But I am glad to know you find me as such.”

“Oh great. Now I’m boosting your ego.”

He tilted his head at you. The red allure of his make-up. The darkness of his cunning eyes. You found yourself unable to breath or blink. He was gorgeous. From head to toe, there wasn’t a single part of him that looked flawed.

“Why are you smiling at me?” you quietly questioned.

“Does it bother you?” he asked with the same tone of voice. “I was merely thinking that you look pretty.”

Your lips departed in surprise. All that left them was a quiet breath. The heat of your face reached your ears, making you feel as if you were going to break a sweat at any given moment. It wasn’t fair how easily he made you flustered without even trying.

Scaramouche’s fingers gently traced your face. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers linger on your skin. His touch was so gentle yet so chilling, be it the coldness of his skin, or the knowledge of the power that he had over you. You didn’t care to differentiate them.

With a feeble hold on your chin, he leaned closer. Your breath hitched, and he paused right before you lips touched, sensing your nervousness. Maybe he wasn’t sure if you wanted it, or maybe he thought you got frightened, but his pause prolonged. Your stomach burned with anticipation and desire. You could catch his breath into yours. You could feel the warmth of his body heat. Why did he think to stop?

You closed the gap between you. Your lips softly clashed. His were soft and warm; they moved timidly against yours. Breath against breath, he pressed deeper. You accepted his guide. You accepted the growing hold of his hand on your chin, and you accepted his eager lips. You felt the desire to hold him closer. To have him closer. And your hand traveled to his bicep, trying to fulfill your desires.

Your lips grew hungrier. Deeper. Sloppier. He pushed with more force; his hand slipped from your chin to the back of your head and you accepted his move. It made you crazier. Thirstier for his warmth. Your hands snaked around his shoulders, feeling his exposed skin and the thin fabric that hid the rest from you. You hugged around his neck, drawing him closer.

For a second, your lips slipped off his, and a shiver rolled off his tongue. It filled your stomach with hotness. Made your lips hungrier. Pushier. He tasted intoxicating. He tasted perfect. Bitter like the tea that you had made him, and sweet like the sugar that you had poured into your own cup. The two polar opposites melted in your mouth, failing to quench you.

His hands traced down your body; tingles fluttered through your system, unnerving your stomach and making you crazier for him. Your fingers tangled in his hair. You were trapped in between his arms. Trapped under him as he loomed over you. A quiver escaped your mouth as you struggled to keep your sloppy lips on his.

You both paused as your lips departed, staying tied in each other’s proximity. You listened to his unorderly breath, feeling each of his breaths as tingles on your skin. You felt your heart forcefully beat against your chest, and you were sure he could feel it too consider how close he was. His warmth was driving you insane. His perfect scent and his perfect hands that held you sides now. You were eager to have more of him. To taste him for longer.

Your lips grazed his proactively. He caught you in an instant, returning the gesture by pressing deeper against your lips, and you melted as soon as you tasted his tongue. His fingertips pressed against your sides, holding you firmly and possessively. He put more force into your kiss, and your mind turned foggy beyond recognition. You couldn’t think anymore. All of your senses were focused on him. His scent. His taste. His harshness. His unorganized breaths between your sloppy dance.

Tangled in each other, preoccupied with your desires, you failed to be careful. You were reminded you were sitting on the edge of the deck only after his clumsy fingers grabbed at the ground, and accidentally knocked over the mug that he had put aside. It loudly clanked, nearly falling over the ledge before he hastily caught it.

He reacted so quickly that he practically jerked himself of your lips, and you were left leaning against his cheek. Drawing uneven breaths against his skin as he looked over your shoulder to make sure that the mug stayed away from the ledge.

“Darling,” he whispered against your ear. His voice sent a rush of heat down your entire body, and your lips nervously pressed together as you tried to swallow the feeling down.

“Yeah?” you whispered back.

“I think we should get away from the open ledge.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The Withered in Bloom Ch. 17

The afternoon turned quiet and still as you found yourself free from work. You were done with all your tasks quicker than usual thanks to Scaramouche. He hadn’t left your side all day, despite admitting that Kusanali was impatiently waiting for him to return to the Sanctuary or Surasthana. You didn’t try to shoo him away, knowing that he would be gone for a few days once Kusanali gets Her hands on him. You figured you could at least enjoy his companionship as long as you could.

Dirty and sweaty from hard work, you were desperate to take a cold swim at the waterfall. This time you didn’t let Scaramouche anywhere near your room as you grabbed your stuff, still feeling embarrassment as you walked past your bed. Memories from last night intruded your mind despite your wish to not think about sinful things. It was difficult to turn a blind eye to it, and the tips of your earns burned a stark red as you found yesterday’s laundry still piled on the floor – carelessly tossed aside by Scaramouche.

He patiently waited outside of your hut, and silently followed you outside of Ghandarva ville once you had everything you needed. With a towel and a clean shirt over your shoulder, you led him across the dry forest path.

A few finches flied overhead, one of them trying to rest on Scaramouche’s hat. He let out a scoff and swatted them away, and you tossed him a confused glare which instantly made him stop. Being liked by animals was something that every ranger would be jealous off.

The waterfall greeted you with its familiar loud rustling. Water poured over the stoney cliff, showering the blue pool with a strong and majestic flow. Even standing next to it felt amazing, as millions of micro droplets splattered your skin with coldness. It was perfectly refreshing.

You smiled brightly at the feeling, failing to notice Scaramouche who silently observed you as you gleamed in the waterfall’s blessing. You began stripping off your clothes, stopping once you were in your undergarments. You rested your clean towel and shirt against a boulder and slowly made your way to the pool. Hearing rustling, you couldn’t help but turn your head to look at Scaramouche. He took off his tunic, carefully resting it with the rest of your clothes; his Vision shone brightly against the boulder’s surface, illuminating the lotus that decorated it. It somehow looked as fresh as it did when he first attached it to his Vision, making you question if he constantly picked new lotuses, or whether Kusanali tampered with it to keep it looking that way.

He took off his hat, putting it with the rest of his clothes before he proceeded to take his shorts off. He noticed you staring, and he looked at you in surprise before his lips pulled into a smirk. You hastily looked away, but you knew that you were too late.

You sat next to the pool, dipping your legs into the cold water. You had to get used to the temperature before getting in. Scaramouche plopped down next to you, still wearing that same smirk from earlier as his thoughts seemingly greatly entertained him.

“Are you not going to get in?” he questioned.

“It’s cold,” you said. “I need to get used to the water first.”

He hummed in agreement. It wasn’t long before Scaramouche slipped into the water. He didn’t even flinch. Goosebumps dotted your arms at the mere thought of getting in, but he didn’t seem to mind the cold at all. He turned towards you, and you instinctively put your hands up as a shield. “Please don’t splash me.”

“I won’t.”

You put your hands down. Scaramouche slowly swam over to your side, stopping once he was standing in front of you. He looked up at you with a solemn expression. Every hint of arrogance was gone, and his face turned soft. Sentimental. He came closer, putting his hands on your thighs and gently pulling your legs open to make space for his body. You suppressed a shiver at the sudden iciness of his touch. The cold water didn’t seem that different from how his skin usually felt. But in your mind, his skin was as hot as the night prior.

Scaramouche rested on the stone between your legs, his dark gorgeous eyes not once leaving yours as he leaned his head against your thigh. Your lips fell open and then closed. Scaramouche’s gaze turned you breathless. Oozing with honey, his usually dark eyes sparkled in the waterfall’s shiny blue atmosphere.

He was mute; you were his entire world in that very moment. The center of his eye, the only meaningful, tangible thing… You didn’t know what to think. You couldn’t think. You were mesmerized by the loving eyes with which he gazed up at you.

Your fingers gingerly passed through his hair, messing his purple strands as you pulled them up from his forehead. He nuzzled deeper against your thigh, watching you still as you brushed through his hair.

Your heart fluttered; your heartbeat had long become unbearably fast since he first approached. The heaviness of his honeyed gaze rendered you completely still.

The waterfall’s continuous rustling turned to distant noise. The iciness of the pool bellow you became miniscule. Scaramouche felt so much warmer than the water that you briefly associated him with. His gaze; the loving, sparkling brilliance in his eyes. It warmed you from within, tugging at all of your heartstrings at once.

Your lips pulled into a smile. The joy from your heart threatening to spill from your mouth in the form of laughter. It was unimaginable to you that this man was yours. That you were the one he looked at with such endearment. That, despite his cold and expressionless nature, you somehow ended up helping him feel.

His brows furrowed slightly, knitting together into an innocent and questioning arch. He was puzzled by your smile.

It was as if he only then became aware of his expression. Only then, he realized how much he had relaxed around you. How enchanted he had become by your presence. His face quickly shifted to its usual cold exterior, proving to you once and for all that it was always an act. He frowned at you, leaning away from your leg and body.

“You are taking too long,” he said. Before you could say anything, he swiped his hands across the pool surface and splashed you. You yelped, pulling your knees up as cold water dotted your stomach.

“You said you wouldn’t splash me!”

“I made no promises."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

okay te-hee. i'm still giggling. I hope you enjoyed! I decided to not gatekeep the kiss in the second clip so~

You can find the fic on my Ao3, right here. Withered in Bloom is the third book in my series "A Puppet's Heart". Hope you enjoy if u do end up reading it!

And as always, if u enjoy my writing, I also have a ko-fi and more fics on my ao3 account <3

#ao3 writer #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #ao3 author #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin scara #soft #smitten people acting grossly in love #he went through character development #it took 3 books yall

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