Shards0fgreen - I Dwell In Possibility

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Winter in Snezhnaya

Scaramouche x Reader

Scenario: You accompanied him to Snezhnaya, but much to Scaramouche's dismay, a certain ginger harbinger has come along as well. And the familiarity between him and you is testing Scaramouche's last nerves.

The Zapolyarny Palace towers behind you in all its imposing might, radiating glory and power. Somewhere within its walls, Scaramouche is trapped in yet another assembly with the other harbingers, while you are out here, walking along the edge of the winter forest.

Though you’ve accompanied Scara down to Snezhnaya and are a welcomed guest in the Tsaritsa’s palace during your stay, you find yourself turning restless rather quickly.

It’s obviously cold as shit up here, and darkness falls early, but as you stroll along the icy path, the moonlight reflects off the snow, making your surroundings shimmer like something straight out of a fairy tale.

Suddenly, a fox approaches you, showing no signs of fear or reserve. That’s another curious thing you’ve noticed around here, just how unusually amiable the animals are.

You rummage through the pockets of your coat, pulling out some nuts you’ve been carrying for that exact reason. You toss them into the snow in front of the fox.

The snow crunches as you kneel down to watch the animal feed on its newfound food in delight. Like it is used being fed in this city and knows exactly where to get what it wants.

“You’re going to spoil the wildlife if you keep on feeding every stray you come across!”

At the sound of his voice, you rise back from the ground, turning to see Scaramouche approaching. He stops a few feet in front of you, hands stuffed into his winter coat, the harbinger sigil prominently displayed.

“You’re already done for today?” You ask, giving him a subtle once-over.

Scaramouche crosses his arms and clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Fortunately, that was the last assembly for a while. One more day with these morons, and I promise, heads will be rolling.”

His eyes shift to the fox on the ground before they settle back on you. He raises an eyebrow. “Are you really so keen on catching a cold for the sake of some mutt?”

“It’s a fox, first of all,” you defend both yourself and the animal, unfazed by his demeanor. “And second, don’t pretend like you weren’t making eyes at that stray cat on our balcony last night.”

He scoffs, disdain evident on his face. “Yeah, of course. Seems like the cold ist really getting to your head.”

Not feeling particularly defeatist today, you decide to drop the subject (because you know exactly what you saw) and change the topic. “When will we go back home, then?”

But before Scara even opens his mouth, another jolly voice joins you. “Home already? What a shame!”

You can practically feel Scaramouche's whole demeanor dropping with irritation, rivaling the frigid temperatures. “Someone, have mercy on me,” he mutters darkly under his breath as Childe approaches you both.

Childe is wearing a suspiciously wide grin on his face as he deliberately ignores Scaramouche and puts his entire attention on you instead. “You should stay a few more days and enjoy Her Majesty’s hospitality to the fullest. I promise, you’ll love it.”

Scara’s jaw tightens at the familiarity between the both of you and if he weren’t bundled in his coat, you would be able to see a pulsing vein on his neck. “Shouldn't you be busy mopping the Tsarita’s ballroom or something, Childe?”

The 11th harbinger shoots him a grin. “Why, and miss all the fun of bidding you guys goodbye? You wound me.”

Then the ginger’s focus shifts back to you, making Scramouche’s eyebrow successfully twitch. “Truly, y/n, your absence will be felt not only by the hungry animals around here but I too will miss your lovely presence. What a joy it is to witness you making our balladeer here hot and bothered in a way I’m not quite used to seeing.”

You frown, but amusement twinkles in your eyes nevertheless, being used to his antics. “Thanks, Childe. It was very nice to see Snezhnaya for myself.”

“You’re welcome here anytime, my dear.” Childe chuckles, placing a friendly hand on your shoulder, but that’s when whatever little patience Scaramouche had left drains away for good. He steps in between you, his gaze deadly and fixed. “Touch her again, and I’ll end you.”

A bold, delighted laugh escapes Childe, clearly aware of the effect his words and actions have on his comrade. He lifts his hands in defeat. “Ahh, finally! I’d love a good fight with you, my friend.”

Scaramouche lets out a dry chuckle, but there’s no humor in his eyes. His fingers twitch, ready for some action. “It’s on then. I’ve been waiting for this day for long enough.”

Meanwhile, you have to suppress a groan. This has been going on all week, them breathing down each other’s neck the whole bloody time. How do these people even get any work done with the way they hate each other’s guts?

You step to the side, Scara’s eyes immediately following you. But you put on a mock-serious face, clasping your hands together. “What a fabulous idea, boys! We can finally settle this like the big grown adults we are, right? You do that - but if you’ll excuse me, I'm heading back to my warm, comfy bed.”

“Don’t you worry.” Childe laughs, amusement dancing in his eyes. “We’re just messing around, isn’t that right, Scaramouche?”

A cold smile spreads across your lover’s face as he regards Childe with a deadly look. “No, please, go on. Keep testing me. See how far it gets you.”

“Now, don’t sound so detesting; I might start to think you don’t like me.”

“Sucks to be you, then, doesn’t it.”

Childe responds to that with nothing more than a shit-eating grin. He turns to you, his face smug, and you can basically feel the headache forming.

“Write to me, alright? And keep me updated on what Mr. Sunshine over here is up to. I barely get to see him these days.” He begins to step back towards the city entrance, but not without shooting you one last wink. “Too occupied with his honeymoon phase, huh?”

“I’m gonna murder you.”

You gently grab Scara’s hand, in an attempt to ground him - or to stop him from causing the Tsaritsa to lose yet another Harbinger.

And he does stay by your side. His fingers soothingly tracing along your wrist before slipping between your own. He turns to you, his anger still radiating from him, but upon seeing your amused look, he scoffs and looks away.

“You’re in way over your head.”

“Am I?” You muse. “Or is someone a bit possessive because of Childe as of now?”

He locks eyes with you, daring you to continue.

“What? Now i can’t tease you after having to suffer through your constant bickering with each other our entire time here?”

“We weren’t-” he starts, but clearly thinks better of it and sighs, a hand running through his hair in annoyance.

“You were saying something about a bed?”

“Mhm. Want to share?”

“You better.”

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are so appreciated

in sickness and in health

Jiyan x Reader

“Bless you.”

“Thanks - ugh, that was the third time within the last half an hour or so.” Your nose crinkles as you rub your forehead in slight annoyance. 

“The fourth time actually,” Jiyan corrects, his concerned eyes lingering on your face, studying your demeanour carefully. “My love, are you certain, you’re feeling alright? You’re not catching a fever, are you?”

Before you can react Jiyan lifts his hand, placing it on your forehead, feeling for any unusal warmth. He remains for a few seconds, as his eyes flicker over your face, before tracing his fingers gently along your temple, down to your cheek. Out of instinct, your eyes close all on their own, as you lean into the pleasant coolness his skin offers. 

“No, it just happens sometimes,” you reply softly, touched by his concern and care. You look up again to find his eyes already locked on yours. So you offer, “I’m just gonna drink some hot tea. You want some as well?”

You shift to get up from the seat, but his gentle touch on your arm hinders your movement. “Stay put, I’ll make the tea.” Jiyan leans closer, his lips brushing your forehead as he leaves a tender kiss on your skin. “How does dinner sound right after?”

XIANGLI YAO ── ✧ Story Cinematic: Eve of Celebration

The Mentalist’s shift in atmosphere as the viewer slowly realized the episode is a Red John one is so wkdkqlsmwofjwokzlqmzkw

You’re expecting the classic dead rich attorney with a sketchy widow (who’s definitely hiding an affair) and then bam, you’re hit with Simon Baker’s thousand yard stare, gore and the crushing reality of death and grief.