Reminiscence.

「 May my child Alhaitham lead a peaceful life 」

as one.

🎭 just playing the part !

a social media au | scaramouche x gender neutral reader

synopsis: you and scaramouche are both drama majors and have been at each other’s throats vying for the same lead roles since high school. but when you’re both cast as each other’s love interest in your second year you’re forced to be civil with your academic rival and see him in a new light. are his feelings for you true or is he just playing the part?

genre: modern college au, enemies/rivals to lovers, fluff, crack, angst if you squint

status: - ongoing, random updates, will try not to drag it out

warnings! time stamps don’t matter, unsupportive parents, mentions of alcohol and weed, will add more if needed, slight ooc?

ACTION!

the cast:

↳ y/n’s gang | scara’s “friends”

ACT ONE — new year same me cus i’m perfect !

01. the announcement

02. on the edge of my seat

03. beat me to it

04. the amigos

05. an unexpected companion

06. a one night stand

07. red flag

08. auditions

09. anticipation

10. monopoly ruins friendships

ACT TWO — the show must go on !

11. i won but at what cost

12. just admit you’re a virgin

13. i’m kinkshaming you

14. he’s a ten but he has mommy issues

15. grape lookin ass

16. enemies with benefits

17. will you be my bf? (totally not clickbait!)

18. wikihow perfect first kisses

19. with the taste of your lips i’m on a ride

20. bereal? id rather bedead / 20.5 confirm or delete

ACT THREE — break a leg !

21. is this what friends do?

22. twenty-one questions

23. walk him like a dog

24. free therapy

25. suffer in silence

26. kiss cam

27. falling for ya, literally

28. emails i cant send

29. yes or yes

30. loyalty tests

ACT FOUR — curtain call !

31. making it big

32. the it couple

33. after party; epilogue

CUT!

tag list — closed!

author’s note: i wanted to try smth longer tumblr needs more scara aus since we unlocked his heartbreaking backstory ,,, o(╥﹏╥)o i’m doing a college au! go easy on me this is my first long smau !! if u want me to continue it pls lmk i need motivation,,i’m also in college so i don’t have an update schedule lmao

hehehe my secret santa for this year was @perpetualcynicism !! im somewhat of a lurker on your blog so it was a fun surprise to know that you were my secret santa LOL

yeah maybe i should've done another character besides cyno, but im a sucker for genshin's resident yu gi oh player so i hope you enjoy :'D

ps. the snow jokes took way too long to make... like i literally had to look them up and it was painful...

wc / 1.6k

cw / fluff, snow, painfully unfunny snow puns

“What’s winter like in Sumeru, Cyno?”

The snow haired man blinks as you lean into him more. He lets his arm relax as you swing both your hands back and forth. You lean forward to properly see his face.

“It depends. The desert or the forest?”

He watches your face scrunch up into your thinking face, hand on your chin, “The desert?”

“Well, it gets even colder than usual. It still retains the dryness, and sometimes it even snows.”

“Wow, snow in the desert? That sounds pretty cool, actually!”

“If you’d like, we could go to Aaru village to see if it snows. Candace actually told me that there’s already a thin layer of frost on the ground.”

“Really? Then let’s get packing, I want to see the snow!”

Cyno breathes out a quiet laugh at your enthusiasm. He wasn’t planning on bringing you to his home village so soon, but celebrating Christmas with you there didn’t sound bad at all.

He helps you pack your clothes, forcing you to bring more than one jacket because no you will actually freeze to death, please bring thicker clothing- and with his own cloak, prepare to leave within the next couple days.

He opts to take the route that didn’t lead to Port Ormos, instead straight to Caravan Ribat. Along the way you spotted more and more snow as you approached the Wall of Samiel. Cyno watches as you step on the white ice and complain about how your feet are cold and wet.

“This is what you get for stepping on snow with just sandals on, [Y/N].”

“Cyno, I think my toes are gonna fall off…”

“Again, this is what you get. We’re almost there, let’s greet Candace first and we can warm up afterwards.”

Candace greets you warmly, a stark contrast to her misty breath as she talks. She leads the two of you to an empty guest house, complete with an empty fireplace filled with wood. Cyno tucks a blanket around your shoulders, effectively turning you into an armless bundle of warmth.

“Cyno, Cyno, look! It swooshes around like wings!”

Cyno looks on as you spin and sway to show how the blanket hugged your body. The light from the newly lit fireplace encompasses the living room area with comforting warmth.

“It does. Make sure you don’t get angry, that’ll really ruffle your feathers.”

“That was so bad.”

You try hitting him with your blanket wings, trying as best you could to wack his arm. Cyno grips your blanket.

“Did you get it? Birds ruffling their feathers means-”

“I know what it means, let go! It’s gonna fall off and I’m cold.”

Cyno pulls you down and you land on him with a muted “oof-” as he holds you close.

“Alright, are you warm enough to go see the snow for real now? You really wanted to see snow, it’s best to see it before it turns into ice.”

Your neck snaps up to beam him a smile that stretched from ear to ear. He pats your head before you can squirm.

“Yes, please! Let’s go, I’ll bundle up properly this time!”

He watches you inch yourself up, much like a worm, and go to your bedroom to grab thicker and longer clothes. He himself puts on his usual travelling cloak with some thicker shoes. He made sure to grab some proper shoes before you two left, knowing you probably didn’t have anything to protect your feet.

He fastens up your footwear for you and before he can even stand up you’re already out the door. You’re barely a foot out the door before your breathe fogs up and clouds your vision. You turn back to see Cyno stand up and close the door behind him, hood pulled up. You tug at his hand, feet tracking footprints into the frosty floor.

“Where’re we going first? I want to see how snow falls first, I’ve never seen it snowing!”

“Is that so? I’m not sure if it will snow, but we can go out further into the desert to see how much snow there is.”

He guides you to outside Aaru Village. Eremites were probably hiding inside their camps more and more but he’s cautious enough to bring his weapon. He looks around the large open field as you bounce around in the white backdrop.

And after he looks around for a second, he’s pelted on his arm by a cold ball hurdling at him. He hears your laugh as he shakes the snow off him. As you turn around to make another one, you feel a freezing sensation on your side as you shriek at the cold.

“Agh, chill out Cyno! Ahhh, I’m sorry, have mercy!”

You bundle up some more snow in your palms, ready to assault Cyno with another snowball. Before you stand up, your vision turns white. You wipe your face and your nose tingles with the urge to sneeze. You blink and line up your shot to Cyno.

He dodges your snowball and you curse under your breath. Curse him, that shot was right to your face! You can still feel the coolness on your cheek and eyes, finally sneezing after being pelted right in your nose.

The spontaneous snowball fight ends when you collapse onto the floor butt first, laying down on the cold ground. Your quick exhales turn cloudy and disappear as soon as they come.

Cyno’s footsteps crunch on the icy floor, getting louder and louder as he approaches. Turning your neck to look at him, you’re greeted with his towering figure and the lightness of the sky above.

“Are you ok? The cold is snow joke.”

You threw a handful of snow at him.

“I’m sorry beloved, I’ll give you something warm to drink.”

You sneeze into a tissue, sniffling. The snow got to you harder than you thought. Cyno’s hands felt colder than usual on your cheeks and forehead, eyebrows furrowed the tiniest bit.

“Do you need anything else? Do you want to go to bed?”

He bites the inside of his cheek when you shake your head with a light groan. He tucks the blanket tighter around you and figures out what to get you to drink.

Tea, coffee, maybe some warm milk? You would want something sweet, wouldn’t you? Shuffling around the kitchen, Cyno opens cabinet after cabinet to see if Candace had anything that would make you feel a bit better. That was when a packet of cocoa fell off a certain shelf. Inspecting it closer, Cyno decides to grab some sugar before warming up some milk.

You wake up groggily and congested to the sight of Cyno holding a mug. When you sit up, you adjust the blanket around your shoulders so you could extend your hands to Cyno.

“What’s this?”

He leans against your torso, hair ticking your side, “Some hot cocoa. Something warm and sweet when it’s snowing is something you would enjoy, isn’t it?”

You take a cautious sip, not wanting to burn your mouth. The sweetness of the drink slowly warms your body. Cyno smiles when you let out a content sigh and lean back into the couch. His arms wrap around you and you lay your hand on his forehead. “

Wait, Cyno, you’re pretty warm too! I can’t believe I made you do all that when you were also sick…”

He puts his own hand to his head, feeling the unusually warm heat being emanated from his own self. He didn’t even realize he had a fever either, it seems.

“It’s fine, I wasn’t aware I was sick either.”

“But still! Later I’ll make you something nice to make sure you don’t get even more sick."

Before you can say anything else, Cyno shoves his face into your stomach and blows. You cough out a laugh, or choke and nearly gag.

“Agh-hahaha, Cyno, no, what the heck, don’t-hmp-”

Cyno grins to himself when he sees you smile crookedly, trying to hold back your laugh.

Eventually you manage to push Cyno enough to let you see his face. The red in his eyes stare at you with a mischief you were rather unfamiliar with and you pout.

“Ugh, I thought your jokes were bad enough, can’t believe I have to deal with tickles now.”

“It’s only with you, beloved.”

Cyno takes great pride at the redness in your face, which he knows isn’t from the fever. He lets out a slight laugh when you hit his arm weakly.

The fire crackled when you flop down to lay down. Cyno climbs to lay his head on your torso once more. His cheek smushes into your chest and it feels as if you two are ready to take a nap.

Which is exactly what you do. From finishing the last of your journey to Aaru Village and the funnest time in the snow, your body feels ready to rest for real. As you drift off to sleep, Cyno cranes his neck to look up.

He wants nothing more than to get up and move you to a bigger and more comfortable bed, but the way the fire flickers orange light over your tired face stops him. If he disturbed you now it would be a waste of a nice moment.

So he opts to rest too. You can complain about all the neck and back pains in the morning, but right now he stares at your slowly breathing self for a few moments longer and closes his own eyes, thankful to the Archons that he could spend the winter with you.

The Ruthless Prince: Illustrated on Paperback book (Giveaway!)

Hello everyone! After hundreds of hurdles and an infinite amount of time I’m finally able to publish The Ruthless Prince on Amazon! 

I know this may seem like I’m gunning for money, but please don’t misunderstand, this is just something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, print my own book! (Also the whole story is still available on tumblr FOR FREE, it’s your own choice whether or not to support me by buying the paperback/ebook version) 

I’m well aware that this is fanfiction, so before anyone goes ahead and messages me that I’m not allowed to sell fanmade items, Mihoyo very much allows the sale of fanmade items, all you have to do is send in an application!

Nevertheless, original story, fanfiction, whatever it may be…I believe that this is still a work of art. I’m just glad that I was able to see it through. 

On to the good stuff!

The whole story is still available on tumblr but the paperback/ebook edition has some extras, mainly:

1. Two extra chapters

2. There are 6 coloured illustrations included.

GIVEAWAY TIME! (under the cut)

Keep reading

good things will happen 💫

things that are meant to be will fall into place 💫

i feel very wrong, like i'm in a permanent moment of sensory overload. it's a debilitating experience; i'm currently immobilized and physically unwell, meaning i'm unable to provide for myself and i will be for a while.

that said, it's been days since i've eaten properly and i have no money whatsoever to speak of. the overload is probably worsened because of my physical weakness. so i'm really sorry to ask, but if it's not too much trouble, could you please visit my ko-fi and help me out so i can buy myself something that will hopefully last me through tomorrow?

if you can't help, that's alright — reblogs help just as much, and maybe someone else who sees it can help. i just really need help right now.

between you, me, and these bookshelves

synopsis: just the little things that happen in a little bookstore.

— featuring: albedo, ayato, childe, scaramouche x gn!reader (separate)

— cw: modern au, swearing, yn is an avid reader, use of childe's real name, none of the books i mention here are real lol

— author's notes: first headcanon post with multiple characters~ very self indulgent so hope you guys enjoy <3

Working at a bookstore isn't the most glamorous job in the world.

The pay is good for the amount of work you need to do, and most days nothing much happens.

But sometimes, there are just some events that happen between the bookstore's mahogany shelves that make your days just a bit more colorful.

Albedo

The bookstore has a chalkboard stand outside that details new releases, promotions, or events that the store has. Displayed on it are elaborate illustrations or hand-lettering, all of it done by the same person.

And he comes by every other weekend to re-do its contents.

You sometimes watch him as he draws, his nimble hands becoming dusted with colored chalk as he sketches on the blackboard, his light blond hair tied back as he furrows his brow, deep in concentration.

He’s caught you staring a handful of times, to which you turn away in hopes that he doesn’t bring it up. Thankfully he never does.

This week you watch as he colors in his artwork, a dragon and a young man with wings at the center soaring over rolling plains and sharp cliffs.

As the boy gets started with the lettering, you ask him a question.

“Do you really just come up with all this on the spot?”

The boy looks at you with curiosity in his eyes, “So you do talk. And here I was wondering if you just didn’t like talking to me.”

“Well, I don’t exactly know what we can really talk about. You’re a freelancer right?”

He smiles as he returns his attention back to his illustration, “You can say that. Well to answer your first question, I usually have a final outcome in mind before I start sketching. Your boss sends me a gist of what he wants and I draw it. Simple as that.”

You converse with him until he finishes, sprinkling in some questions about his work in between. As he packs up to leave, you ask him one last question.

“I never got your name, chalk boy.”

A silent question, but one that he still understands.

“It’s Albedo.”

The two of you end up striking up an easy conversation every time he visits, with you always watching him draw

If you express interest in his other works, he’ll let you browse his sketchbook 

One day while flipping through his drawings, you begin to see some familiar sights: a vending machine outside a nearby convenience store, a food stall, and the outside of the bookstore. Some pages have small doodles in pencil and ink, and some in color. Others have full illustrations.

The next page that you flip to, though, nearly takes your breath away. 

You find a colorful illustration of the bookstore, a blend of paint and ink. Sunlight streams through the glass walls and envelops the scene in a warm light. Boxes lay strewn on the floor, all of them brimming with books. And among the boxes stands you, a stack of books in hand as a small smile graces your face.

You look up when Albedo spots the page you’re on, “Ah, I hope you don’t mind that I sketched you a handful of times. I tend to draw what I find interesting.

“So is it alright if… I sketched you more often?”

Scaramouche

Scaramouche pisses you off most days.

He distracts you while you try to do your work, he steals the pen by the cash register whenever you need to use it, and worst of all, he always makes fun of whatever book you read.

No matter what genre it is, mystery, fantasy, or heaven forbid, romance, he'll always find something to tease you about.

But it’s odd. For someone who claims to hate every novel that you've taken interest in, you find yourself discussing with him each and every book you’ve read.

“Sure, Forest of Lies had a strong opening,” he starts, leaning back on his chair, “But did the princess seriously need to go through those arbitrary trials just to prove that she was determined to save her kingdom?”

“Fine, I thought it was stupid too,” you say, “But you have to admit, the characters are actually well-written and have interesting subplots. The knight having a backstory connected to the princess’ was a good twist.”

“But does anything really come from that twist? Or was it just there for shock value? When you get to the part where–”

You let out an exaggerated gasp, “Spoilers! I just got past the twist, asshole.”

“You should read faster then!” he says, going into the storage room to fetch some supplies, “Whatever, we’ll continue this when you finish the damn book.”

You’re about to continue reading when Scaramouche pops his head out and adds, “The next two novels in the series go downhill in quality from there. Trust me.”

“But this is a trilogy??”

“That’s the point!”

You realize that he had a point when you finally got to the second book.

Around halfway through reading the book, you catch him reading over your shoulder. You turn to look at him and he simply gives you a smug smile. You simply rolled your eyes and continued reading.

A couple of days go by after you finish the second book when he approaches you.

“What’s the occasion?” you say as Scaramouche hands you a book, a pen, a highlighter, and some book tabs.

It’s a novel on your wishlist, you notice; one that you had mentioned to him in passing. Small colored tabs stick out from the side of the book. Thumbing through the first few pages, you see that he underlined some passages, his neat writing occupying the margins, the blue highlighter bringing your attention to a handful of quotes. Just from reading the first sentence as well as Scaramouche’s comments, you could tell that you were going to enjoy reading this.

But you recall a casual remark he during one of your past conversations — he doesn’t typically annotate his books. Did he do this for you?

“Nothing. Just thought you should read a good book for once,” he answers, not quite looking at you.

“Excuse you, I read good books sometimes.”

“The last book you read, you kept ranting about how the writing wouldn’t just ‘let the characters fucking talk’. Your words, not mine.”

“And the last book you read, you literally couldn’t finish because you kept getting fed up with the protagonist doing nothing.”

He groans, “Are you gonna accept my gift or not?”

You give him an unimpressed look, setting the book and stationery aside, “This novel better be as good as you say it is.”

He was right. The book was actually good. You even ended up adding your own annotations alongside his — like having your own conversation amidst the pages of the book.

His comments, whether they be snarky, insightful, or analytical, definitely enhanced the experience. And thanks to that, you end up finishing the book in just two days.

Another one of your story discussions happens and, amidst the bickering, a book he mentions piques your interest.

After making fun of the ever-growing list of books he wants to read, to which he retorts by saying you’re not better off, an idea pops into your head and you search for the novel he’s looking for.

It’s in a genre you wouldn’t typically go reaching for, but this is the least you could do for him, right?

You spend the next week reading and annotating the book, using the highlighter and tabs Scaramouche had given you to highlight passages and give your comments.

The shocked look on his face when you gave him the copy of the book was definitely worth it.

“Just thought you should read a good book for once,” you say, sliding the book toward him.

“Huh. Don’t you hate this genre?”

“Surprisingly enough I actually liked the story; you have decent recommendations when you’re not being such a dick. So, are you gonna accept my gift or not?”

He rolls his eyes, snatching the book from the table, and mumbling a quiet ‘thanks’. 

You pretend not to see the blush that reaches his ears.

Ayato

It starts off as most days do, with a delivery of new books.

You open the box to find the newest releases as well as some bestsellers. One of the covers catches your eye, the title Child of the Roses emblazoned in front of an illustration of two women laying in a field of red roses — one of the books you’ve always wanted to get your hands on ever since the author announced the plot.

Sure you could purchase the book right now, but your budget for the month didn’t have a lot of wiggle room. And if you did wait until next month, you couldn’t exactly guarantee the availability of the book since it always manages to sell fast.

While you’re restocking the shelves, the door to the store opens, and in come a man and woman with pale blue hair. 

The girl starts looking around while the man walks up to you.

“Does your store happen to sell the book Traingazing?” the man asks. There’s an elegance in the way he carries himself — well-dressed, handsome, and dignified in the way he speaks, “It’s alright if you don’t.” 

You confirm its availability and lead him to the nearby shelves, “You lucked out today, sir. This is our last copy.”

He laughs. Fuck, even his laugh sounds expensive, “Lucky indeed. My sister and I have gone to five stores today just looking for it.”

The girl, his sister, you presume, comes up to you two with a small stack of books in hand, “Did you find it?”

The man holds up the book, its silver-edged pages gleaming in the fluorescent lights of the store, “Got their last copy, too.”

She sighs in relief, “Good. You can finally stop nagging me about you never being able to grab a copy before they sell out.”

“Says the one who dragged me to eight stores looking for a book you ended up hating.”

The siblings leave shortly after purchasing their books. 

The rest of the day passes by as normal. Rush hour usually comes around early afternoon to late evening, when students get out of school and people usually get off work. 

Unfortunately, your shift just about lines up with the store’s more chaotic hours.

You spot a familiar blue-haired man again later that evening while you’re in the middle of helping another customer. He’s browsing the shelves when he spots you.

“Can you help me with something? I’m looking for a gift for my sister.”

“Oh, the girl you were with this afternoon, right? What kind of books does she like?”

He describes the types of books she favors along with a handful of her favorite authors. You lead him to some nearby shelves, picking out some books and giving him a brief synopsis of each one. He listens intently to each of your suggestions, his lilac eyes focused on you.

As you’re finishing up, he spots a book behind you and grabs it from the shelf. You spot the familiar title, Child of the Roses. As usual, whenever you restock it, it’s the last one in stock. “You thinking of buying that one? It’s our last copy.”

The man reads the synopsis as you summarize the plot, “Seems like quite the interesting book if it got you so excited.”

You laugh at his remark, “Well, I’ve been wanting to read that book for a while now, but I never manage to get a copy before they sell out.”

He considers the book before saying, “Is that so?”

Your co-worker calls for you before you can respond, saying that they need help with manning the cash register.

After almost an hour of helping with scanning barcodes and packing books, the blue-haired man stands in front of the counter.

He holds up Child of the Roses, “If it’s alright, I’d like to make this a separate purchase.”

Figures he’d buy the book if the reviews and your excited ramblings are anything to go off of. While you were sad that the chance to purchase the novel had once again slipped away, at least you could be reassured that it would be in good hands.

After giving him the book and the receipt, he simply hands them both back to you, “You were quite passionate when you described the book to me. I thought I should buy it for you before someone else gets it.”

This has to be a dream, “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I mean don’t get me wrong! I’m grateful, but don’t you want to read this, too?”

A smile graces his face, “Of course. You helped me find what I was looking for this afternoon, so this is the least I can do for you.”

When you finally get home and settle down for the evening, you open the book, intending to get through just one chapter.

That’s when you find a calling card in between the pages of the index and the first chapter, the name Kamisato Ayato in immaculate handwriting on one side along with his number.

On the back was a message: I’m actually currently reading Child of the Roses, so I have no need for another copy. But if you’d like, we could go out sometime and read it together. What do you say?

Childe

Most days there's not really much to do aside from the usual talking to customers, restocking the shelves, and helping close up shop. 

So sometimes you read just to pass the time. 

You’re just finishing up a chapter when the door to the store opens.

Ajax, you learn his name, is a massive flirt. Instead of talking to you like a normal person, he instantly says the cheesiest pickup line you’ve ever heard.

“I don’t need glasses,” he says, leaning on the counter, “ ‘cause I can clearly see that we were meant to be.”

It’s way too early for this shit, “... sir are you going to buy a book or not?”

He tips his head back and laughs, “C’mon! You have to admit that one was good.”

And he’s come by the store every so often ever since.

He’s quite the chatterbox too, talking about anything he can think of whenever you scan his items at the counter.

You learn he’s an older brother when he asks you for book recommendations for his younger siblings. His attentiveness to his siblings’ taste in literature never fails to put a smile on your face.

You also learn that he’s very knowledgeable in literature.

He comments on one of the books you’re reading during one of his visits, talking about his favorite scenes as well as discussing the characters with you.

A week of nearly daily visits turns into a month, with you getting used to his corny pick-up lines and little conversations.

But then it suddenly stops. A week passes without Ajax’s visits.

You don’t think too much of it until that one week turned into three. 

He was under no obligation to come back every day, of course. He was a customer, at the end of the day, and there was never any guarantee that he wouldn’t suddenly stop visiting the bookstore nearly every day.

But you couldn’t help feeling dejected at the thought of just never seeing him again.

Then, on one unassuming Monday afternoon, a familiar face returns to the store.

“Hope you didn’t miss me too much,” Ajax winks at you, “Mind if you help me look for a book?”

You smile, doing your best to hide your surprise, “Good to see you’re still doing well.”

He gives a vague description of what he’s looking for: a sci-fi series that’s appropriate for his little brother Teucer, the third book to a series his sister Tonia is currently reading, and “whatever you think is good” for him.

Walking over to the shelves, you could feel his eyes on you as you started picking out the books for his siblings. A soft smile is on his face when you turn to face him, becoming wider when your eyes meet his.

“You were gone for a while,” you say, unsure of how to continue. His life is none of your business and like hell were you going to admit that you missed him.

He sighs, “Yeah. Work has been a lot these past few weeks, but now that it’s loosened up I can finally start seeing my favorite person more often.”

“Your favorite person huh?”

“Getting the chance to talk to you is the highlight of my visits. Of course you’d be my favorite person.”

He leans in close to you, “Y’know, I just realized that I’ve lost my number. So can I have yours?”

You roll your eyes, still smiling, “You could have just asked for my number like a normal person.”

Ajax laughs, and you find yourself wishing you could listen to it every day.