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serenelia · 2 months ago

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A Smile Worthy of a Religion

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Content synopsis: WuWa Phoebe gets caught with her echo friends! (the reader will be named as "P/N" in this fanfic, meaning "Preferred name")

Scroll away if you do not entertain fanfics of Acolyte Phoebe x Acolyte Reader and wlw

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The city of Ragunna is a highly revered region in Rinascita for its use of common echoes that can be seen littered across its streets, mostly seen as serving more to be a functional part rather than for combat. Sometimes referred to as “Divine Envoys,” they are seen as gifts from Sentinel Imperator. These helpful, soft, and friendly echoes, however, are stated in the Codex of the Deep to be treated objectively to avoid wrongful preaches. As one of the Acolyte’s of the Order, P/N had remained at a certain distance from these cuddly creatures as much as she could. She couldn’t deny that they were certainly adorable, but the Codex is clear about its regulations.

…unlike a fellow Acolyte of hers.

She had initially traveled to Whisperwind Haven to visit one of the elders there. To assist him in his daily routine for her schedule is free in the meantime. They were well acquainted—she offers him her service; he tells her of the tales that lurk around Elga town.

The sun is high above the peaceful Egla town, enveloping it in a comforting warmth that urged the elders, echoes, and children to venture outside to bask in its warmth. A breeze had ruffled her Acolyte hat to near removal. Quickly, she raised her gloved hand to press it against her head, keeping it from flying away and be subjected to yet another sermon from a senior.

That was when she spotted a familiar figure in the distance at the turn of her head. They, like her, wear an Acolyte hat and pristine uniform worn by one.

And she knows little whom would visit the Haven apart from herself in the vacant time allotted in an unrestrained schedule.

Soft crunches followed her footsteps as she proceeds towards the blondie, bending down while surrounded by fluffy echoes. The blades of the grass tickle her skin through the white tights she wears. From where she stood, she can faintly hear the delighted laughter from the person she holds dear.

She pauses her tracks from a few meters away from the adorable scene.

“’Members of the Order are to remain at a distance towards echoes to better handle matters relating and concerning them, and to better share knowledge about them’…” she speaks up loud enough to be heard from a distance.

A few echoes jump in surprise and turn to look at her, similar to the fellow Acolyte whose eyes widened. “Right, Acolyte Phoebe?” P/N continues.

“O-oh! Acolyte P/N!” uttered Phoebe, getting up from her position in the middle of petting an echo. “I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you there…”

Her hands clasp together in a nervous habit as she faces the other, unable to meet her eyes. “Y-yes… I am aware of the instructions of the Codex towards these echoes. As an Acolyte, it is part of my duty to avoid favoritism and honor to inform the public…” –her gaze wanders to the echoes that had now seek shelter behind her legs— "but I couldn’t stop myself from indulging even momentarily… They were kind enough to present a present to me, after all.”

P/N settles in front of Phoebe, wearing a slightly amused yet endearing smile with crossed arms. She watches as the latter digs something up in her pocket before showing it to her in her hands. It was a small bouquet of flowers—most likely picked up from the flowers that adorn the fields around them—clustered together with a thin thread of string.

Her gaze lowers to the various echoes surrounding Phoebe, a Hocus Pocus, a Lottie Lost along with some Cuddle Wuddles, and a Diggy Duggy. As she scans the group of little echoes, hiding behind the Acolyte, she recognizes a pair that captured her attention the most—it was Brenno and Livia.

It was Phoebe’s closest friends, almost like family. There’s been a lot of instances when she caught the Acolyte retreating to them at certain days—she recalls a particular moment of them sneaking around the Order of the Deep in an almost comical manner. She also remembers well the moments she sees her cuddling with them in secret, or they cuddle up to her.

P/N isn’t oblivious to the fact that the instruction to stray far from them is achingly hard for Phoebe. Even if the Acolyte knows that it’ll mean trouble for her, she remains faithful to these fluffy friends.

There was one time she had conveyed the strict orders to these two, thinking Phoebe failed to tell them. However, when they only gave her a gift in response, it was only then she realizes that they know she has been spectating them from afar and that she hadn’t said a single thing to the others. After that, P/N couldn’t find it in herself to ever snitch on Phoebe. In a way, she felt it was her responsibility to have them remain a close relationship in secret.

Striking up conversations abruptly to others at a close call, taking a few errands for her own when she’s aware the place is one the trio utilizes for their hang outs, even pretending she didn’t see Phoebe patting some echoes’ head even within the Order—

But the Codex’s content is clear, as well as the instructions given. Proper punishment must be appointed to the violator of any verse in the doctrine.

She glances between the flowers in Phoebe’s hand and the sheepish smile on her face.

“You know I can’t ignore this, Acolyte Phoebe,” stated P/N.

Phoebe’s lips quiver in nervousness. The hand which holds up the gift falters. Her eyebrows furrow.

And as simply as that, her resolve is swiftly abandoned.

“But…” Once again, she takes a look at the echoes tilting their heads up towards her in an almost pleading expression. That’s odd, when has she ever been able to know that? “…I suppose I’ll pretend to not see it this time.” And the several dozen times before this.

A relieved smile dances across Phoebe’s lips upon hearing her agreement, a sentiment shared by the echoes around her. They cheered and even looked excited somehow despite how near they were to despair earlier, leaving their place behind the blondie’s legs.

“Thank you, Acolyte P/N! May the Sentinel bless your understanding heart! I was only supposed to pass by Egla town for some fresh air… but they followed me out here, I couldn’t ignore them,” Phoebe says in delight. She holds up the flowers in her hand, and her expression brightened as she takes a step closer.

P/N sighs—though not in exasperation. “It’s alright, it would be quite rude to ignore a gift from a friend, wouldn’t it—”

Suddenly, the bundle of flowers is tucked in her hair, in between her Acolyte hat and her ear.

The words die on her mouth as she looks upon Phoebe, carefully placing the gift she had received into the beautiful features of her companion. Her touch ever so featherlight yet ignited a wild rhythm in P/N’s heart. Even with the gloves she wore as part of her attire, the touch is just as heartfelt as it could be without it.

When Phoebe pulls away, a pleased smile graces her lips. “There! Take it as my and the echoes’ thanks. For keeping it a secret.”

P/N couldn’t find any smart response in the rapid train of panicked thoughts that swirl in her head. She clears her throat and attempts to find solace in the eyes of the echoes below. “S-sure… Whatever.”

At the corner of her eye, she can see Phoebe tilting her head. The echoes around them observed the two with interest.

Another wave of embarrassment brought a flush to her ears. “A-anyway—you must be careful when you meet them like this, Acolyte Phoebe. If it wasn’t me, then you would have been sent back immediately.”

Phoebe’s expression turns a touch serious and she takes a step back. “Yes, of course. I know. I promise I’ll be more careful next time.” But just as quickly, she recovers, gratitude glimmering in her eyes.

One of the Cuddle Wuddles—one she hasn’t met before—at least she thinks so—comes up towards her. She looks down to its button eyes.

It glances at Phoebe, and almost immediately, the Acolyte understood.

“Oh!” she giggles. “Marcy wants to show you something—if you don’t mind.”

The echo turns back to P/N before waddling towards a certain direction, to the side of Egla town. It looks back at them when a few other echoes followed while some remained by Phoebe’s side, wordlessly asking them to follow. Livia and Brenno were even tugging slightly at the hem of her skirt.

P/N hesitated. She really shouldn’t be entertaining this little trip the echo asks of her, much less actually indulge compared to the times before she merely observed from afar.

Yet—when she stole one glimpse of Phoebe under the cover of the shadow of her hat, she sees the contained happiness mixed with anticipation underneath the composed exterior the diligent Acolyte always wears as she gazes at her and the way the echoes that remained by their side slowly leans in, sharing the Acolyte’s subtle wish.

There was a hopeful silence that sprung as P/N remained quiet.

…really, was there ever a choice in the first place?

“…alright, but just this once,” she concedes.

As always, she can never truly bear to see disappointment across Phoebe’s face. To P/N, there is nothing more sacred to her than Phoebe’s smile.

The little echoes all cheer in unison, their fluffy figures jump in the air with hands raised in exaggeration. They soon dash away towards somewhere, the tension felt from before lifted by the obvious delight in the echoes’ actions.

Phoebe’s face softens into quiet excitement grows at her agreement, it shows at the way her eyes disappeared, and her cheeks lifting at her smile.

She chuckles and begins walking beside P/N as they follow the group of echoes. “I must thank you again for keeping this a secret between us. These echoes… they’re more than just that to me. I know it’s wrong but—they were there for me during my hardest days. I can’t abandon my friends!”

P/N looks back at Phoebe, holding her gaze with an affectionate one of her own. One that is also deemed wrong by the Order. “I understand, Acolyte Phoebe… Friends are important to keep, after all. I wouldn’t take that away from you.”

‘Members of the Order will not indulge Their favor in idle pleasures or desires.’

The familiar verse pops into her head. However, she can’t find any feeling of guilt nor regret. Her feelings—the strong tugs in her heart are more than idle pleasure. They are more than that.

Under the shadow of her Acolyte hat, P/N smiles. A gesture Phoebe mimics with a warm one of her own.

“I wonder where they’ll bring us.”

Phoebe shrugs, feigning innocence. “Let’s keep following them to find out!”

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#fanfic #wuthering waves #wuwa #wuwa phoebe #wuwa x reader #wuwa x you #wuwa x y/n #acolyte x acolyte #acolyte phoebe #wuh luh wuh #lesbianism #the order #order of the deep #WuWa Phoebe x reader

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serenelia · 2 months ago

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Vice Versa

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Content synopsis: H:SR Robin comforting her overwhelmed bodyguard in Dream's Edge. (the reader will be named as "P/N" in this fanfic, meaning "Preferred name")

Scroll away if you do not entertain fanfics of Robin x bodyguard.

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“P/N, I need your opinion on this matter. Come quick. There’s been a case—”

“Are you busy, P/N? If not, the Bloodhound Family is shorthanded right now, so if you could come help us chase down this criminal on the loose, we’d deeply appreciate it—”

“Have you completed the task I gave you a few days ago? I need it now. The guest demands an overview of the documents you gave last time.”

“Hey, P/N… uhm, I know you’re busy, but there’s really no one else willing to help me… so, if it’s fine—”

“P/N! Perfect timing-!”

“P/N! P/N!”

Throughout these past few weeks, the cosmic popstar, the songbird of Penacony, Robin, has noticed the steadily increasing schedule of her bodyguard, P/N, in ways that far surpasses the pay grade offered to her. She is aware of the previous position they had before being personally assigned to her as a bodyguard—that being as the Secretary of Security—but perhaps this is too much for one person?

She must admit that the intelligence and expertise she wields quite literally makes her overqualified for the position. P/N is both strong and has a sharp mind. Thus, it was easy for her to navigate through the ranks to even be recognized and trusted by the previous head of the Oak Family—despite her brother already banished from the position, she was chosen to remain due to the lack of evidence of her being Sunday’s accomplice in any part of his plan. However, deep inside Robin, she knows her brother cleared her name far long before any investigation was done.

The sound of her heels clacking along the floor echoes within Dream’s Edge with P/N following behind her with quiet footsteps of her own. After an overwhelming practice session for her vocal cords, Robin retreated to this very spot to escape from any worries she might have during the day. While, of course, her bodyguard was required to accompany her, she did not mind this. The two share—what she likes to think—a far closer bond than a professional relationship.

However, her initial wish to spend a moment of solitude with her bodyguard is completely shattered as she can faintly hear the sound of tapping on the phone and a number of calls being made. She glimpses behind her—only to find her bodyguard talking with someone on the phone. At this juncture, she can vividly remember the amount of absurd requests P/N had been receiving. Robin isn’t oblivious. It’s very clear that even her esteemed bodyguard has been affected greatly by the number of tasks assigned to her.

Naturally, P/N appears to be as pretty as she always will be—but the increasing darkness under her eyes and noticeable fatigue in her body causes her worry to rise. It’s been distracting her lately. Why doesn’t P/N decline when she has so much on her plate already?

Robin waits until her bodyguard finishes her call before calling out, “P/N, can you come here for a second?”

In great speed, P/N averts her attention from her phone at the sound of her voice. Placing the device in her pocket before making her way towards the songbird. At the decreased distance between them, Robin can see the brief look of relief on her face. Perhaps for something else to occupy her mind with? Unfortunately, the expression fades away into one of her usual indifference.

“Yes, Miss Robin? Is something the matter?”

A glimmer of concern flashes in Robin’s eyes, causing P/N to reciprocate the feeling briefly. “If you don’t mind me asking… How many tasks have been assigned to you today?”

P/N blinks in surprise. “About 3, Miss Robin.”

“And yesterday?”

“2 tasks were assigned to me yesterday.”

“The day before that?”

“4 originally, but I have accomplished one of them already.”

The tiny wings behind Robin’s ear glower. “And with those tasks that you mentioned, how many have you completed?”

“The task from the day before yesterday, Miss Robin.”

“So only one,” she mutters in despair for her bodyguard. Amidst all the assigned requests for her, it escapes Robin how P/N is able to work in this state. Especially a job as demanding as being a bodyguard of a cosmic popstar.

Sensing she might have said something that could spell trouble, P/N speaks up in the silence that followed. “If I may ask, Miss Robin, why do you ask?”

Robin, still wearing a contorted face, lifts one of her gloved hands to caress the signs of sleepless nights etched on P/N’s face. It felt rather… rough to her touch. Unlike the previous instances when she held her face in search of injuries. She sees the line marks across her skin, the ever-present tiredness in her eyes. Her heart breaks just from seeing her precious bodyguard exhaust herself from all the tasks assigned. She, who has done so much for her continuously tire herself out. And for what? Why? Isn’t doing her job as her bodyguard enough?

She shakes her head gently, noticing how stiff P/N became once the soft fabric of her glove makes contact with her tense muscles. The bodyguard stares at her in confusion—with a bit of flush.

“I’m just… worried, P/N. For you. I’ve seen how hard you’ve been working these past few days, and how little you rested. At every corner we turn, I always find you talking to someone and leave with another thing to do. On top of that, you always ensure my safety. You’re always there whether it’s for a tour or not. Even at my selfish endeavors to the Oti mall even when I know you’re busy—” Robin pauses at the forming lump in her throat. “I appreciate everything you do for me—but I can’t help but be worried. You always give your all to everything you do. Aren’t… aren’t you tired?”

She can see the mix of emotions glimmer across P/N face like a carousel. Hesitation, reluctance, shame—she wants nothing more than just hold her close. Robin has always been the one to force care for her wellbeing—much like how she cares so much for her. But her bodyguard is always one to dismiss any concern thrown across her way.

This moment, she can only hope to Xipe that P/N can give the same dismissal to any front she would want to put up. Just this once. She wants to do something for her. To tend to her needs much like how she always comforts the idol when torn apart by media expectations—or the abundance of demands and cautions she must always heed to—the same ones her dearest bodyguard carry on her own.

But she’s never alone in the burden. She never has been.

With a tentative step forward, Robin cups P/N’s face so carefully—as if she was as fragile as an injured charmony dove.

The bodyguard flinches yet does nothing to pull away. In the silence that followed, the two shared a wordless conversation in their eyes. Robin’s own worries confront the visible tiredness in P/N’s eyes.

Then, the tension slowly dissipates from her shoulders, it was so subtle, Robin can barely catch the action in the dim light of the setting sun. They slump as P/N leans slightly into the touch, her eyes softening. Her walls always crack so easily underneath Robin.

“I… I am, Miss Robin. I really am,” the bodyguard concedes.

Robin’s heart lurches into a fast rhythm.

“I was afraid to admit it but—” P/N continues, her weary eyes meet the idol’s concerned ones. “I just wanted to do something for you.”

Robin’s hands—which hold her dearest in them—begin to caress the stiff muscles on her face in small semi circles with her thumb. A determined yet kind look on her face is present.

“P/N, you’re already enough just being by my side. You’ve done so much for me; you have no idea. Even when you think you’re just standing by my side as my bodyguard—I’m contented just having you with me. You might not even realize it but—you really matter to me, P/N.”

Her bodyguard remains in silence. Her eyes, usually containing nonchalance now holds a certain vulnerability to them. She feels the weight on her hands grow heavier, and she is more than glad to support her.

“You’re the person who always holds me when I cry. When I wish for some time alone, you’re the one I always want to be alone with—or when I’m stuck on composing lyrics for my song, I can always count on you to inspire me again—Can’t you see, P/N? Just by being here… beside me… means everything to me,” Robin confesses in an affectionate voice—perhaps a bucket too full of love.

“…But there’s still-“

“You don’t have to do anything else for me… I know how much effort you bring into your job.” –for me— “And that’s really all I could ever ask from you.”

P/N’s gaze falters, and Robin can practically hear the gears turning in her head.

Robin decides to gently probe her, as much as she would allow her in hopes of clearing the doubts clouding her mind, “When we… when we go back to The Reverie, promise me, P/N, that you’ll stop accepting every request given when it’s not from me, okay?”

In all honesty, she would have preferred to have her abruptly abandon those tasks right at this moment! But… P/N is already doing so much just simply being open to her. She doesn’t want to overwhelm her. They’ll take this slow. Slow and steady.

As she had hoped, her bodyguard gradually bobbed her head.

The heavy weight in Robin’s chest swiftly eases at this little gesture, earning a relieved smile from Robin which P/N couldn’t stop herself from mimicking.

“…Understood, Miss Robin,” the bodyguard sighs in solace before closing her eyes, still wearing the comfort in her features.

Robin doesn’t know whether she agreed so easily due to her being her boss—or simply because she is too exhausted to retort.

Nonetheless, she relishes in the tranquil atmosphere between them with a light-hearted flutter in her heart. Her eyes gloss over the face of her dearest bodyguard fondly. Now under the bask of comfort only exclusive to them both and the peace the quiet Dream’s Edge offers to them—which Robin can now happily bask in with her—the strain previously on P/N’s face ceases to exist. Only remains the lovely profile of her beauty. Whether she has lines of stress or darkness from sleepless nights changes this not.

“Thank you… I really needed this,” P/N mutters wearily before nuzzling her cheek in Robin’s palm.

The songbird tucks her bodyguard’s hair. “I’ll always be here for you… always.”

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#fanfic #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #robin hsr #hsr robin #hsr robin x reader #hsr robin x bodyguard #comfort #fluff #penacony

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serenelia · 5 months ago

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🇨🇷🇺🇲🇧🇱🇪 🇧🇪🇳🇪🇦🇹🇭 🇹🇭🇾 🇱🇮🇵🇸

.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐

ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴀᴍᴏᴜᴄʜᴇ/ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Content includes mention of drugs that cause drowsiness and loss of sensation, Vampire! Harbinger Childe, the reader is a witch hunter, and kissing scene. Word count is 4k.

Scroll away if you don't entertain any au regarding vampires, witches, and hunters.

previous part -> 🇲🇦🇸🇶🇺🇪🇷🇦🇩🇪

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It was clear to her now that she had to get out of here.

She’d forever be branded as a fool if she persisted in this Manor any longer; the consequences would be irredeemable for herself and for the other witch hunters who still carry on their duty.

Her line of work is already so sacred that losing one out of all the thousands left would do more harm. Taking into consideration their reputation, the mere leak of information that there are still active people like her would send every villain organization into action, and she wouldn’t want to trade for their downfall even with her life.

Heels clack against the marble floor, and mutters of greetings meet her every gaze upon crossing paths with certain people. Some act polite, while others are suggestive. [Name] only responds accordingly, as nonchalant as she could. Ignoring the crushing sensation in her chest once she nears the previous dance floor of the room.

Only a few more steps were required to be able to exit the suffocating Manor, but she was impudently interrupted by a familiar sight appearing suddenly before her. “Ah! There you are, Lady [Name]. I have been looking for you!”

She needs not to look at the person to be able to guess who they are.

“I deeply apologize for my actions earlier; I had realized too late that I should have informed you first before leaving.” Childe lowers his head with a hand to his chest. “Again, I apologize,” he adds, a tinge of guilt heard in his voice.

[Name] glances at the exit, suppressing her deep desire to push him out of the way. “It’s not a big deal, Sir Childe. I understand that the matter must have been of the utmost importance; I take no offense to it.” she assures.

Childe’s lips turn into a frown, eyes glaze with what she assumes to be doubt. “Even if that is so, please, I must make it up to you.”

The self-possessed woman shakes her head. “You need not to. As I’ve mentioned before, I understand and forgive you.” She returns her gaze back to the gentleman once he raises his head.

“Such kind words, Lady [Name], but I truly do insist. I’m afraid this feeling of guilt will never leave until then,” he persists, his hand lightly crumpling his tie.

[Name] felt her irritation flare up at his comment. How much of her time does he wish to waste?

But no matter—for it appears his subtle interest in her might just let her accomplish her mission.

In between her own fears and the sake of an ongoing mission, she’s once again, preoccupied with curiosity. “Well, if you insist, then I would be happy to," said she, coughing out a chuckle.

Upon hearing her words, a grin blossoms on Childe’s face. “I’m glad to hear that! Now, if you allow me, I shall lead you to one of the Manor’s room beyond the garden; it is not too far so I hope you can be patient with me. There I’ll be giving you an item that I think will suit your tastes.”

[Name]’s courteous smile falters. “And pray, tell me, what is this item that you speak of?”

The latter chuckles. “Oh, you’ll see. I will tell you though that you’ll find it worth your time.” he takes a step away, almost colliding with someone in the process.

“Now, shall we?” Childe asks, outreaching a hand towards the entrance of the Manor’s garden.

Much to her dismay, [Name] has no other choice but to nod and be all smiles even as she consciously walks into the fox’s trap.

No words were uttered between the said lady and the accompanied gentleman even a few minutes after the start of their walk, and she couldn’t help but wonder why he hasn’t bothered to make the trip entertaining for them both. Excluding the reason the garden of the manor didn’t require much ground to cover, surely anyone would feel the need to converse a simple causerie?

Much to her relief, Childe, so to speak, starts, “I take it that you’ve met a comrade of mine?” he takes a curious glance at her from the side.

Dread easily injects itself into her nerves; did she accidentally conjoin her expression and thoughts?

“Why, yes, I have. An impressive man he was,” she adds for the sake of civility, though, judging from his reaction, it can be said that there was no need.

He lets out a breath that is best paired with hands caressing the bridge of his nose, “I best hope what he might have said does not tarnish your image of me—nor that of the Fatui’s.”

[Name] didn’t know whether to pity him or laugh at their so-called "comradery.” “Oh, worry not, he had not spoken ill about you. He had only apologized on your behalf.”

“Really? No lies said; that’s surprising to hear. He isn’t really the most friendly one. However, please keep that as a secret between us. I wouldn’t want to anger his grumpy self any more than needed,” said the Harbinger, followed by a wink.

[Name] chuckles, utterly unimpressed. “My lips are sealed. Though, if I may be honest, I have to agree with you on that note.”

He smiles apologetically, though it doesn’t meet his eyes. “Please, Lady [Name], despite it all, don’t take his inclemency to heart, even with his cold attitude. That’s only how he usually is.”

[Name] nods. “I’m sure there are more qualities more worth looking into.”

The pair fell silent after a chorus of laughter. And deep in their indifferent expressions which they present to maintain a ethical image, both knew well that the latter is a lying imbecile.

The coldness of the weather does not only come from external forces, but also from the underlying atmosphere that’s thickening the more the two walk together in silence, which continues to grow as even the crunches of leaves beneath her provided her with more entertainment than her companion. The option to excuse herself is always present, as much as her delusional freedom provides her with, unfortunately for her, the mere thought of what he would do to her easily demolishes any courage she mustered up. After all, it is known to both that her life is in his hands.

At the thought, the not-so-nostalgic feeling of fear overrides her pathetic attempts to enjoy their stroll, constantly looming above her head, behind her back, and at every corner they turn, like an unwelcome and invited parasite. It makes her head spin with caution, raising the hairs on her neck.

Suddenly, something ruffles the end of her dress, too close for comfort. No one else is around other than them, and alarm bells start to ring in her head at the sudden intrusion of space. Something is closing in to her from behind. And she has no idea what it is or what to do.

She glances at the man beside her, finding him looking elsewhere, void of the fear she wished to share to depart her alertness of facing it by her lonesome.

She clutches her gloved hand into a fist, hardening her resolve to get ready to fight or flee if necessary.

[Name] whips her head around in one swift action. If she is to be afraid, she must face it afraid.

The figure behind her is—

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Similar to a breath of warmth released into the cold night air, the condensed suffocating air dissipates as quickly as it came.

Silhouettes of people sauntering, followed closely by their shadows, occasionally pausing to take a glass from the kind waiter, is the only view presented to the frightened Lady.

It was almost humorous how different it was from what she had expected it to be. The guest’s expensive jewelries and watches glimmering brightly under the golden light, their laughing faces, and squinted eyes behind their fans—was it wrong to feel uncomfortable watching such a peaceful scene unfold?

“-Is something wrong, Lady [Name]?” a silky and concerned voice echoes amidst her troubled thoughts.

[Name] stills. The etched formalities in her spooked mind moves her mouth. “No.. Nothing,” she replies, coming out less smooth than she would like. “I am fine, Sir Childe; it is nothing to be concerned about.”

She watches the tranquil view wordlessly for a moment longer, fearing the ominous feeling would only return to claim her once more the moment she let her mind rest. Though, much to her relief, there is nothing in sight that could ever relate to the forbidding presence.

Already expecting a smile she has to return, she turns around to return her focus to her companion.

But instead of the foxy smile he always greets her, she was faced with Childe’s eyes flashing a genuine glare with his head tilted to look at the balcony of the floor above.

As if noticing his own lack of response, the Harbinger swiftly disregards his deep scowl and transitions it into a bright smile as he returns his attention back to her. “Are you sure? Do you feel uncomfortable perhaps?”

Terrifying it was to witness such an incompatible expression upon his usually beaming face, [Name] speaks with hesitation, which shows that she’s on delicate ground: “No, I am perfectly content. A thought had just occurred to me. Please, spare it no more thoughts.”

Childe couldn’t help but frown at her answer, yet he was in no position to pry further. “If you wish so, Lady [Name]. If you ever need something, you can just tell me.”

The lady offers a polite smile and says, “I give you my deepest thanks, Sir Childe. I appreciate your support.”

“It’s no problem at all.”

Further into the garden’s grounds, is a beautiful flower-filled environment with little to no blemishes marked upon it. The said flowers marvelously compliment each other befittingly of the abundant range of colors among them that radiates prettiness in aid of the light given by the lamps standing along the carved path to support any dweller’s footing. Beyond it lies an outstretched balcony, overlooking the ethereal view of the faraway civilization illuminated by the city’s lights. Stood along its sides glamorous wooden doors that give off a faint light below them, indicating the presence of someone in the room it hid. The pair stroll along the stone path, easily finding their way around the place thanks to the indicated direction in the pavement. There was no need to regard where they might even stumble upon, the path made it very clear to anyone that it meant to lead them towards the view.

Small talks were made along the way, both making attempts to engage the other in the conversation. Mostly made by the Harbinger, who is deeply troubled by [Name]’s anxious behavior. Noticing the change of habits after numerous sightings: she became more fidgety, stealing glances to her surroundings when she thinks he’s not looking, and the usual lighthearted chuckle she lets out takes a more strained tone. All of these could very well be the result of his “comrade’s” antics.

What sort of fuckery did he do this time?

One night, he couldn’t resist leaving his plans alone. He just had to make it harder for him.

Childe lets out an exasperated sigh.

He leads the beautiful lady in a secluded area, an area he hopes the damn shorty or any other guest visiting don’t even dare to enter. It wasn’t particularly scary, in fact, it the was opposite with how the garden presents itself, it was merely well hidden enough to casually ignore.

All while [Name] racks up her brain for any strategy of escape for the situation she had forced herself into. Unfortunately, despite tedious thinking, it always ending up to be incoherent due to the constant feeling of his presence—or more accurately—his stare. Having caught a glimpse of the eye-catching pale skin and indigo hair she knows awfully well in the balcony above after following her companion’s glare. She can’t handle another encounter with him; she might actually vomit on his expensive-looking suit and die at his hands.

Why must he be here—or rather-—why is he here? Was he the one who was about to ambush her earlier?

She feels that her earlier thought of the mysterious presence behind her previously was her doom might be correct in that regard. At this point, she’d rather stick herself to Childe’s company which in any case, is only a tad better.

Blades of grass tickle her dress upon passing a unique-shaped bush; the ground, cluttered by rocks, was engulfed by the neatly mowed lawn; butterflies hovering around the flowers tease her outreached fingers.

“Lady [Name]. I thank you again for your patience and cooperation,” said he once halting his tracks. “Before we go inside though, I must ask you for a small favor.”

[Name] raises a brow.

Is he going to ask for my blood now? No- wait, in any regular situation, this is a perfect set up for a marriage or a courting proposal! Possibly not? Either way, I don’t think I have much choice if he asks. If I were to refuse, would the other one start hunting me next?

She involuntarily starts fidgeting with her gloves. “I see. What shall I do for you, then?”

If Childe was bothered by this, he doesn’t show. “May you give me your hand?”

[Name] squints her eyes at him before complying with a nod.

“Now I ask for your outmost trust if I am to continue further,” said Childe, tenderly. His thumb gently touching [Name]’s knuckles.

Very stupidly but without much choice, she replies, “..I give you my trust.”

Childe smirks before taking off the glove off of her offered hand, pressing it to his lips, and subtly sniffs before turning it around and turns his attention to her wrists, but unlike her initial assumptions, [Name] is surprised to find him kissing her palm.

Nevertheless, [Name] gets ready for the pain even at the facade shown. For even if he is surely going to collapse right after his teeth bare her skin, it doesn’t make the process less painful. If she were a normal citizen, she’d be merely confused on what is happening. After all, the knowledge about vampires having certain kinks are only limited to witch hunters and alike. He could be very well about to just reveal his hidden love for her at this moment. So the best cover is…

“Wh-what are you planning, Sir Childe?” she stutters, shoulders rising in a bashful manner.

The man in question looks up to her, his eyes half-lidded. Appearing to be highly contented, he purrs, “In this moonless night, Lady [Name]. You-”

“..Excuse me for interrupting.”

Childe flinches while the other freezes, having completely forgotten about anything else in the heat of the moment. Head slowly turning to the side, [Name]’s breath catches and tangles in her throat at the sight of Scaramouche standing before them. Their gazes lock, and once again, she loses the ability to look away. He looks the same as before—if not even more dazzling under the moonlight compared to the bright yellow lights within the ballroom. His gaze pierce at her like they’re the only ones in the garden, and she’s never been more frightened yet enticed by the implicity of it.

Something tightens around her hand and she’s brought back to the hold of Childe, who is currently preoccupied with transporting his anger onto his glare towards his uncaring comrade. It was tempting to pull her hand away immediately, but it would give rise to further suspicion.

Her face turns pale. If childe had collapsed there and then, she’d be hunted by now. Or worse, dead!

Obvious mockery displayed on his face, Scaramouche continues, redirecting his gaze to his moping fellow Harbinger. “But Signora needs your assistance, so it’s best for you to head over, she looks rather agitated. You didn’t abandon your previous errand did you?” he crosses his arms.

Childe furrows his eyebrows. “Now, now, you’re making me look like some sort of slacker, dear comrade. Perhaps she just needs me for something else now.”

Scaramouche’s smirk doesn’t falter even as Childe lifts himself from the ground. “Whatever the situation may be—I couldn’t care less really—but you best to make your way to her now, unless you want another scolding from her?”

[name] couldn’t find it in herself to be amused at the blatantly planned obscuration to Childe’s dine. More so when even a slightly exaggerated sigh of her lips catches Scaramouche’s attention. Damn him and his eyes.

So instead of planning her escape, she prays for her dear life. Practically smelling the murderous intent behind their words, no matter if it isn’t directed towards her.

Sighing with obvious disappointment, Childe returns his gaze towards her, ignoring the pointed stare from the other as he does so. “It looks like I’ll have to make it up to you later once again, Lady [Name]. I hope you don’t take this to heart.”

“I understand. And there is no need to worry, for I am one not easy to offend. I’ll see you soon.” she smiles kindly.

From the corner of her eye, she sees Scaramouche rolls his eyes as Childe softens with appreciation. He lifts their intertwined hands to press a soft kiss to her knuckles, the gesture stirring the whirl of nausea in her further. Taking a step back, he bows in farewell. Making his way past Scaramouche with an unwavering glare. The unbothered latter’s smirk only grows wider, finding the scowling towards himself amusing.

At the ginger head’s departure, Scaramouche turns his attention back to his subject of interest, eyes piercing past the previously dark cover over her head. His brows furrow as he sees a… discernable face on her head, one that was not present before.

Was it odd to find a face on a person’s head? …perhaps he’d gone ballistic as well.

Previously, even with the bright lights inside the manor, he could not take a glimpse under her hat veil despite his numerous attempts. Yet Childe was persistent enough to find her attractive without taking her blood into consideration. So naturally, this lady must be the gorgeous one.

But now, in the dim light of the lamps near them, what he can faintly see is… a face that brings forth disappointment. With how Childe had continuously pursued this young woman, he anticipated her to have some unique features, but she looks… lackluster.

Is he seeing her wrong? What’s the reason for Childe to be so infatuated with this mortal?

He steps towards her. “I take it he has apologized to you formally?”

Perhaps she slipped up when they were dancing? No, his entrance was abrupt and she wouldn’t have enough time to cover it up. And the audience would’ve had a reaction at least.

[Name] stretches a smile. “Yes, he has.”

For a popular lady she is, he expected more accurate acting of civility, but she doesn’t seem to be in favor of lying, is she?

“I see.” he leans closer. “So he does have some manners after all.”

[Name] takes a step back, not without checking the space behind her. “...that he does…” she mutters a reply.

As he stood right in front of the retreating lady, his eyes scan every feature he can capture. But no matter how much he stares, every and any distinctive attribute observed fades away with a blink. Not even his sharp eyes can accurately paint a picture of [Name]’s face. Might it be the work of her hat veil? He squints his eyes.

He’s come to the conclusion that something is wrong with her. She’s most definitely odd.

The only source of her reactions is her body and the badly hidden tone of her voice. He strongly dislikes having to be played into a guessing game by a mere human just to quench his curiosity. “To be honest, I am quite surprised you're not upset for him leaving you the second time this night,” he starts after an awkward space of silence.

Blinking her discolored eyes, she replies a beat later, “It cannot be helped. Someone of high position like him is bound to be busy even in a night such as this.” she tucks her gloved hand to her chest, faltering at the realization that Childe took the other glove.

Not caring any more or less, Scaramouche says, “..you know of our organization?”

[Name] looks at him with confusion—judging by the tilt of her head. He stares at her. “It would be a wonder if someone didn’t,” came her hesitant reply.

“Indeed it would be, but more than that.” he steps closer. “I find it more questionable that you’re rather calm in the situation you find yourself in.”

For split second, much to his surprise, the distinction in her eyes remained, showing a clear display of skepticism. “…what ever do you mean, Sir Scaramouche?”

A flare of irritation creeps up his spine. “Being alone in the night with a vampire of a highly sought out organization amongst humans for quite a big bounty.” he pauses, mainly to calm his nerves. “Doesn’t that make you shiver, even a little?”

She tilts her head up, only then is he able to make out the shape and color of her lips. Again, it’s far from what his eye caught earlier from a glimpse. But this time, the image doesn’t flicker.

…is this woman under a curse?

He looks back to [Name]’s eyes. They haven’t changed from their earlier form. Is this how she really looks?

As he continues to stare, his eyes twitches. “…or are you one of those ignorant humans who indulge themselves in their own little world, completely oblivious to the harsh reality of the true world?”

“The main objective of this gathering is to settle the complicated relationship between both races. For me to come willingly with this clearly stated in the letter and still hold fear in me towards your kind, it would be hypocritical,” she replies. Stepping away abruptly as she turns her head away.

Without much thought, Scaramouche’s hand flies up and grabs her chin, forcing the lady to face him again.

Great satisfaction overwhelms him at the realization that her facial features remained. Ignoring the flustered yet alarmed expression now transparent on her face. No more guessing games. He’s got the cat in the bag.

This woman is under a curse. And it contorts her facial features to something pleasurable to gaze at.

She was planning something with Childe, wasn’t she?

He should have left him alone if that were the case, his time would’ve been more well spent if Childe had been left out from it.

Scaramouche laughs, his fingers digging into her skin. “It’s truly laughable how stupid someone can be, perhaps Childe needs to have his brain checked for finding interest in you.” he moves her face from one side to the other. “Other than your lack of knowledge, you seem to have a lack of beauty as well.”

[Name] furrows her brows and opens her mouth to protest. However, upon seeing her reflection in his eyes, she freezes. All courtesy in her manners vanished, and she’s left in her most vulnerable state—her curse free self.

Her worried stare fades into a fierce glare. She raises a hand to try and pry his away from her face, but he doesn’t budge, only pulling her closer to his face.

“You… You’re not a normal mortal, are you?” he whispers tauntingly, low and menacing.

[Name], void of the delicate demeanor, grits at him. “You’ll soon find out what I am.”

And then, without warning, she leans forward to kiss him.

Immediately, his body recoils, a shiver of disdain yanks him away as quickly as it happened. “What do you think you’re-”

Cut off by a yank of his clothing, [Name] crashes her lips together again. Pulling him closer while she exerts force to keep him from moving away.

He felt dizzy—and disgusted. Mostly disgusted. He goes to push her away, but it proved to be fruitless as her grip is as steady as ever. His stomach churned, lips turned numb, and the colors of the vibrant environment started mixing together like a pot of color—a disgusting vile of soup.

Realizing he’s still gripping her chin, he swiftly pulls it off to grab her by the neck and—

…wait, he did pull away, right?

He attempts to lift it again, but all it did was pitifully limp on [Name]’s shoulder. Even a newborn’s grip showed more force than his proud hand.

Where… where did his strength go?

[Name] tilts her head which deepens the kiss even further as her hand crawls up his back, cradling the back of his head. Scaramouche’s body tenses, utterly sickened by the sensation of her lips against his. But it relaxes just the same, like chords of an instrument cut off, his body refrains from listening to him.

As he glances to [Name], her eyes were shut, close to looking blissed out. And he couldn’t stop himself from copying the lady, letting out a sigh of exhaustion despite the overwhelming urge to rip her head off. It’s as if something is controlling his body, or more accurately—he’s losing control. Why is he letting her do as she pleases? He’s a renowned Harbinger for Tsaritsa’s sake. He’s not so frail as to crumble underneath a mortal’s lips.

At that moment, he smelled it—the distinct scent of assorted drugs right on her lips.

Oh. Oh, Tsaritsa.

Before he could form another thought, the malevolent woman parts their lips, leaning back far enough to soak in his drugged state. She looks at him with what seems like gratification, her lips curled into a smile. He does his best to return the gaze, despite his half-lidded eyes and heavy chest, every breath feels like labor. Humiliation fills his system, much like the numbness overriding his senses until he ceased feeling at all.

He thinks something held his cheek, but after seeing [Name]’s mouth move discernably and impossibly slow, he promptly blacked out.

.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐

I changed the "witch" hunter to "vampire" instead so it can be more accurate. I realize only now that it was tomfoolery. Scara isn't even a witch. Who is reader hunting.

#fanfic #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin impact #scaramouche x reader #vampire au #vampire hunter reader #vampire hunter au #fatui harbingers #harbinger x reader

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serenelia · 6 months ago

Text

🇵🇷🇴🇵🇴🇸🇦🇱 🇩🇪🇫🇪🇳🇸🇪

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Content includes: SFW, pair of Kokomi and reader who is named as "the scholar" in this fanfic (and who is probably autistic), use of non-binary pronouns, lengthy thought process, use of dog traits (for Gorou).

Scroll away if you do not entertain fanfics of Kokomi, slow burn, and a multi-chapter series. previous part

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

In the humblest shrine of the Sangonomiya clan, its flamboyant structure standing out from the middle of Watatsumi island, the color distributed along it mirrors the pigments staining the environment, a mix of soft pink and purple covers the humungous corals taking sprout in the edges of the land it stands on. A sort of pastel of green coats the plants around and within, and at a parting at the far side near the entrance, flows down a waterfall, a fascinating sight upon treading on the wooden bridge towards the coral stairs leading to the shrine. In an undisturbed chamber within the building, the bright greeting of the sun passes through the slit left unnoticed by the elegantly painted glass window that once shielded the tender, newly awoken eyes of the Divine Priestess sitting with her head down inside her accommodated bureau. It hits the Priestess’s eyes and weary blinks were taken to shift her gaze away to the papers piling to her right. In a blink of an eye, it seems, a whole night has passed, and the Priestess is unable to recall on the reasoning for her lack of persistency to maintain awake the evening before. An addition to the number of her fainting? Perhaps, but it’s best to cease the fogginess in the state of her mind for now, for she can already foresee the endless grunts of concerns coming from the shrine maidens.

With a brush of her hand to the loose hair descended on her shoulders, a brief gleam of surprise enthralls her at the realization of the securement of her clip had crumbled somehow and is currently placed neatly on the table, making her squint at it suspiciously. Though, no further feelings other than relief befell her. She remained reckless in terms of preventing any headaches. But another dose of medicine along with a requirement to pause her duties would only gravely increase the pain. She sighs before reaching for the accessory previously worn by her hair.

Taking in the room while her hands busy themselves tending to her soft locks, it is strangely in a perfect condition for slumbering judging by the perfectly covered windows with closed curtains, almost no light could ever hope to pass through it. She wonders who could have entered the room to do such thing and managed to avoid waking her. It dawns on her the implications of the possibility that the person took pity on her, bringing a wave of embarrassment pass through her.

She’ll have to figure it out later however, as the bustle of the murmurs outside forces her to release the pent-up strain in her arms and legs. As she stretches in tune with a yawn, a knock on the door nearly makes her arms cramp.

Kokomi clears her throat. “Y-yes, who is it?” she croaks out, cringing at the tinge of hoarseness in her voice.

A pause on the other end.

Then an orotund voice sounded out, one that she recognizes to be always filled with enthusiasm, “Excuse me, Your Excellency. It’s me, Gorou! Is this a good time? I would like to address a matter with you.”

Gorou? Rare he ever was in requesting a moment of her time, and it sounds like it’s for a personal request and considering the lack of his usual smart military fashion he always executes, she deems her usual strict Priestess persona unnecessary to execute.

Kokomi soon answers him, “It’s alright, Gorou. You may come in.”

So, he does; and the sneaky glance the general gave to the covered windows doesn’t escape her. “My apologies for suddenly requesting a moment of your time- but I must tell you this as soon as possible since it’s really important.”

The Priestess shakes her head. “Please, you don’t have worry. I am eager to know what it is, now is a good time in any case,” she assures with a soothing tone, keeping an eye on him as he begun to walk across the room.

Gorou unveils the windows per his own accord and Kokomi came to a conclusion. “I’ll start by saying that this is a matter that I had taken based on my own wishes, and any setbacks or negative reactions, I will face and accept it all.”

The sudden shine of the room brought forth by the sun causes a squint to both of their eyes. “Recently,” he continues once turning his back on the window. “I had been personally overseeing a project suggested by a scholar; the one that the eremites that were stranded here had mentioned before. They tested it out and it consisted of farming certain plants in Watatsumi island, to give improve the agricultural state and be able to provide more contribution the economy. However, since the soil here on the island isn’t very suitable for normal planting, they suggested to create a fertilizer for the land.”

Giving rise to… Watatsumi’s agricultural state?

How would a scholar from another region have the audacity to judge the status of another? She can’t deny the scholar is right, though. Their usual supplies and trades have been making ends meet for them, but only enough for survival. She can’t deny that the residents of the island have it difficult as well. Their stock wouldn’t hold up well in a few decades, especially considering the rising population of the island.

They have made efforts to foster their own agriculture. It didn’t go well in theory unfortunately, even with the previous scholars that had attempted to achieve the same. This is what started the complex relationship between the Akademiya and Watatsumi island. It can serve as a way for researchers to experiment and the word of mouth of the island to remain good for future investors. That doesn’t mean the residents of the island smile at the sight of a researcher, however. And with the amount of proud and prideful scholars who have tried, she doubts that it is possible to grow anything on the island.

Despite all odds and ends however, she can trust in her general. He’s one of the most formidable soldiers she’s ever met. He’s surely thought of it with care.

“I understand that we have been faring well these past few decades with our sango pearls, but with this new opportunity to enrich our sources for mora to provide for the people, it would be a good course of action to take. Of course- I am well aware of what this project would mean and what it would cost, so I had prepared a summarized report of its progress. I’ve ensured that has been scrutinized carefully myself, along with a few other soldiers.” the General hands out a rolled-up paper.

Kokomi takes the roll in her hands, sliding some papers piled up on her table to the side to make room for the newly introduced one. She lays it down flat on the surface, her eyes glazing over the messy writing littered with annotations and detailed description of chemical formulas she hardly gave attention to. Did Gorou write all of this? She never knew he was interested in these types of things.

After a chorus of questions about the general idea of the project and the scholar’s standing, Gorou continued, “This has been going on for three and a half weeks, only today did I see any progress of it blooming, so I refrained from mentioning this to anyone else. I didn’t mean any offense by it, I just didn’t want people to be disappointed.”

“You didn’t offend anyone; I understand your situation,” Kokomi dejects between his clear sounds of concern, “You judged correctly in discussing this in a private place, since I’m worried about the reactions of the others as well. But- you should have informed me of such a big project. I trust your ability to judge a situation very much, but I need you to report matters like these ahead of time. Even if disappointment is guaranteed.”

Knowing Gorou and his history with the past scholars that proposed a similar project like this, this must have taken quite a toll on him- and it would have also comforted her further that both of them are dealing with it. After all, two heads are better than one.

It was rather obvious, the expression of a kicked puppy on her general’s face at the time of his swivel, to which Kokomi couldn’t continue her emotion of disappointment, no matter how mild it was. “I understand, Your Excellency. I won’t do it again,” Gorou lours, his tail glowering behind him.

Kokomi lets out a soft puff of air. “Anyway, from your words, it seems you’ve been working with this “scholar” for quite some time. Have you observed any ulterior motive of some sort?”

“Indeed, they do, they intend to give rise to Watatsumi’s agricultural status and help the island’s residents eat more nutritious and fulfilling food. They also said that this will serve as a project to the Akademiya as well.”

“Hm, yes, prissy. Is that all?”

“Yes, Your Excellency.” a pause and his ears perk up. “Ah! they also plan to use the funds gathered.”

“Have you negotiated the gross income of it if it were to be successful?”

“Not yet, Your Excellency, since the product of the project is yet to be successful prior.”

Kokomi holds her chin; a moment of judgement passes by. “Thank you for notifying me, I will be sure to take this into consideration.”

She concluded the brief meeting to be finished with her words, though to her surprise—“Your Excellency, if you would… lend me your indulgence on this. I swear you won’t regret it,” Gorou declares, confidence shaping his tone and demeanor.

At the expression of faith and assurance at his words, that of which he is overly cautious to speak out, Kokomi is left to wonder who exactly the scholar is to sway her general’s stoic precepts.

It is sufficient to convince a margin of her doubtful stance, “Yes, I am counting on it. But further investigation is required before I lend this project my support, I’m sure you’re aware of this.”

“I am aware, but before you retreat to your usual duties for the day, may I ask one more favor from Your Excellency?”

“Very well.”

“Would it be alright for the scholar to personally discuss the details of the project here?”

Her eyes widened. “…Right now?”

“Yes, Your Excellency, but only if it’s alright with you,” he is quick to add.

“It isn’t that, it’s.” —Kokomi’s eyes wander the room— “…No matter, I shall meet them outside.”

Gorou’s tail began to wag, although it stills more often. “Thank you so much, Your Excellency! I’ll be waiting for you outside whenever you’re ready.” and with a big smile on his face, Gorou bows to Kokomi before taking his leave. The silence of the room giving space for a whirlwind of thoughts.

Heels clack against the wooden floor as the languid Priestess nears the door leading outside. It has been a few minutes since the General’s monologue of persuasion, and Kokomi had been ensuring to herself the main concepts both parties may want to convey. She has little knowledge to go on concerning the esteemed scholar, so it escapes her how she will persuade the latter to follow the accommodate script acknowledge in her mind. Will they be arrogant, cunning, or even manipulative? She readies herself for any possibility. Using her past experience with previous scholars who pursued the same feat, would only lead to heightened expectations and leave no room for adjusting. It’s of good basis, that is if she were to ignore the visible signs of her general’s faith in the new character. He implies the new scholar- despite their previous experience with them- to be someone worth investing quite a sum of trust in.

Realization plunges deep in her chest.

No. She should still be cautious of the person, for it’s better to refrain giving any trust at all than give little and be disappointed. In that matter, she could hardly call herself feeling such if it were ever the case, another event of neglection to a series of projects would hardly be surprising. In spite of the fact a tinge of her privately wanting to lean towards the promise of efficaciousness.

However, merely standing idly is only further proof of inactivity being a resultless course of action. She’s sure her guest and general are becoming restless the more she delays, she will simply have to improvise the more the scholar responds. This should hardly be a challenge, another goody two-shoes of a scholar. Another consideration is their capability in the Akademiya, and how on Teyvat they were able to establish the deprived state of the island in a short amount of time. If they indeed had only been here for the mentioned time stated by Gorou, she didn’t know whether to act offended or appreciate their observation and efforts to lend a hand. With that, Kokomi applauds their superb ability of observation. Still, it’s questionable why they had remained to be unannounced as a guest in the island, they wanted perception on them not, she could get that much- unless she’s sparing it a thought too much. So why would they abruptly announce their project and intentions? Moreso have the General of the island present it for them. Perhaps they thought it to be unnecessary as it isn’t required to make the visit known. What were their reasons for arriving on the island in the first place?

The priestess groans sympathetically for herself accompanied with a shake of her head. Should she begin theorizing on the subject again, she’d drive herself to ceaseless pondering.

The sound of murmurs on the other side pushes the soles of her feet onwards. A bright light enraptures her vision in a flash that soon fades away as the breeze of the wind coldly welcomes her. Boisterous yet calming splashes coming from the waterfall nearby, and captured gazes from the occupants of the shrine. Foreign pieces of clothing were quick in demanding her attention, in the middle of the platform outside, there stood a fidgeting person accompanied by her general. It occurred to her; the person is the infamous scholar.

They adorn the uniform coat of a researcher enrolled in the Akademiya-which appears to be necessary considering the stifled shiver that ran through the scholar at a breeze—though she doubts it is able to help with the cold. Consisted of pieces that help in accustom to their fragile body, their inner clothing leans more towards a comfortable attire rather than being concerned with presentation. Their eyes darted from one place to another more out of sheer curiosity and wonder than caution and unease. Kokomi couldn’t help but wonder how much the scholar has seen of the island.

The Priestess’s heels brought the wandering gaze of the scholar to meet her own, and their mouth fell open when their eyes met, followed by a slight widening of eyes. Kokomi’s brows furrow. What an odd reaction.

The General introduces them both to one another while the scholar only stays still. Staring rather intensely at her.

She had somewhat expected them to speak first, but at the continued silence between them, she took it upon herself: “It’s a pleasure to meet you, [Name]. I’ve heard of the project you proposed from General Gorou. And while I am interested, I have a few questions if you wouldn’t mind answering.”

She waited for the scholar to reply. However, she is answered with silence. And the splashes from the stream nearby fills the space between them until Gorou shuffles his feet to nudge them alert. With a blink of their eyes, the scholar lifts themselves out of their daze.

“Yes. Of course, it would be my pleasure,” came their hasty reply.

Kokomi continues, “You must be aware of the relationship the island has with the Akademiya. I applaud your character for proposing this project with the objective of providing a better future for the residents in contrast to other researchers who tried to achieve the same feat. And I’m sure you have your own set of feats, but this sort of project would require more than mora to solve. As we have trusted previous researchers with a similar project, succeed was never achieved. And resources are more important than ever due to the aftermath of the war with the Shogunate’s forces. Therefore—while the reports and annotations presented are filled with promises, accusations even—the island is going to need more than empty promises or expectations.

With those stated, I must ask you: Why do you think your project is any different? And would it even be something worth investing in?”

Gorou, who now is standing idly on the side, had sweat trickling down his face when the scholar only stayed silent. Even the guards who overheard were distracted by the volume of the Priestess’s voice, including the shrine maidens who were wiping the same spot for a while now.

Kokomi thought they were intimidated, frustrated even that someone is questioning their actions just like the others who came before them. She had expected them to answer bitterly with sarcasm fueling her disappointment, to face a scholar who wasn’t anyone special at all. She feels pity for Gorou, who appears to be glancing vigorously to the presenter of this project.

“I understand that you all must be doubting me- and I do not blame you for thinking that way,” the scholar starts, “However, I only propose things that have shown results not only in theory. I am different from the other scholars you have met.”

The General’s tensed shoulders deflated at their answer. “I will answer your question in a short moment—for I wish to clarify Your Excellency’s statements earlier. Regarding the relationship—which I imagine is complex—between the Akademiya and the island, I’m afraid I have no idea. I hardly involve myself with any social interactions and I care little. I can only assume it to be multifaced and somewhat fragile, but please do not place my sense of knowledge on par of societal matters. I am aware; however, it is something important to consider so if there is a need for me to be aware of something, there isn’t a need for hesitation. As for the previous researchers, while I may not be able to reverse the damage they must have done—to the island and to its people—I will ensure that I am not as shallow. I will exhaust myself for this project—be it resources, mora, or perseverance. My words are not empty nor will they ever be.”

With a slight pause, they added with a touch of enthusiasm, “I thank you for your patience, and now—I commend to you that I will show you results, not only promises!”

Their voice was hushed compared to anyone else, but the sheer determination and confidence that raised it is hard to ignore. It was all she could hear other than the actual words said. It silenced the whispers among the shrine maidens who witnessed the scene, including Kokomi’s thoughts of doubt. And judging by the relief displayed on the General’s face, she knew better than to continue sharing the island’s hesitation.

The two exchange knowing looks which results with Kokomi nodding and it made Gorou’s tail shook.

Then suddenly, the scholar pulls out a pot.

“Behold,” they announce proudly.

A long, embarrassing silence followed.

In the scholar’s hand… is a plant within the pot. It is amazing in itself, the presentation on the other hand…

A snort that was quickly stifled echoed throughout the quiet space.

Everyone who was knew what it is, but bafflement override the miracle event of such a simple item. “What… what is this, if I may ask?” the Priestess asks.

The scholar nudges the pot afloat. “As I have mentioned, Your Excellency, this is the result of the project I proposed.”

Gorou sighs, catching the attention of each person. “Indeed, Your Excellency. I have forgotten to mention, but that is the plant that has newly taken sprout just this morning. I had originally planned to invite you to take a look of it personally, but it seems that isn’t necessary anymore.”

“You need not to worry, General. For I have dug this out myself and made sure it will thrive even within a pot. An astounding result indeed!”

The sides of Kokomi’s lips twitch. “I see. And that is taken from the very soil mentioned in the report?”

“Yes.”

She looks between the oblivious scholar and the dumfounded audience to come up with a conclusion to this queer meeting. The scholar has indeed exceeded her expectations in every way she scarcely imagined.

With a conclusive breath, “Very well. I approve of this project and will lend you the necessary support to flourish it further. However, you must agree to the following conditions I ask of you.”

The conditions mentioned were only standard protocol for a guest, and the scholar agreed to it easily. She also agreed to lend the management of this project to Gorou, who looks more enthusiastic about the ending of this meeting than the person who suggested it. His tail wagged more than it usually did when he came closer to the scholar who was showing the plant to anyone that peeked at it. The scene confused the Priestess, yet she can’t deny the promise of a better future for Watatsumi doesn’t make her even a little excited herself.

As she ordered the eavesdropping guards (who acted nonchalant despite flinching at the initial call) to escort the scholar to the land they mentioned, they suddenly spoke, “Excuse me, Your Excellency, but will you not come with us to peer upon the land the project will undergo on?”

Ignoring the scrutinizing twitch to her General’s ears, Kokomi replies, “No, and I mean no offense when I say that I don’t think it will be as necessary. I entrust this project to General Gorou and I have faith he will monitor the progress as efficiently as possible. I trust in his observations and reports, and I recommend that you to do the same.”

The scholar nods, glancing at Gorou with slightly furrowed brows.

“Thank you for your time, Your Excellency. I will do my utmost best for this project and for the future of Watatsumi island!” Gorou exclaims once the scholar is out of earshot. “I will follow the scholar after dealing with my duties for the day. But before I go… what do you think of them?”

A glance is given to the direction where the scholar was once at. “They have an interesting character. We may have a more promising researcher this time, but I wouldn’t be so confident about that.”

The General huffs, more like a breathy chuckle. “Dare I say they were definitely more open than the previous ones.”

Kokomi remembers their earlier speechlessness and intense staring. Now it’s her turn to furrow her brows. “Perhaps… might I say questionable in some departments, but nonetheless yes—more open.”

Gorou winced. “My apologies for their odd behavior earlier. They have never acted that way ever, thankfully they recovered soon enough and was able to present their point.” —then he faced her— “With that said, Your Excellency, I thank you again for your time and approval of this project. In the meantime, I will resume my regular duties and report in when I am about to observe the scholar. Your Excellency may call me whenever I am needed.”

“Of course, Gorou. Thank you as well.”

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Merry Christmas!

edited: I had to add extra lines of dialogue since it was rushed and it wasn't very appealing the first time.

#fanfic #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin x reader #reader x kokomi #kokomi sangonomiya #genshin gorou #scholar x divine priestess

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serenelia · 10 months ago

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Some things from the past couple of weeks___✍︎

Anyone else already stressed for a new semester?

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serenelia · 10 months ago

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this is exactly how it happened

The Hero🐱🗡

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serenelia · 10 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/karamrafeek/754196219096694784/help-karam-al-nabih-and-his-family-rebuild-their?source=share

Hello, I hope you and your family are well. Can you please help me recycle the post on my account? 🌺 And help rescue my family from the war in Gaza? 🙏🙏

Hello everyone, I am Karam Al Nabih from Gaza. All my dreams have been shattered now in Gaza. I am a software engineer in my last semester, but now my home, my dreams, and my university have been destroyed.

All my dreams have been destroyed 😞 I hope you share , support and donate

Repoooost & donate please after read my story, that's urgent! 🇵🇸🍉

Please don't skip helping me and my sick mother to rebuild our lives. Any donation, even a small one, will make a difference 🙏🙏

Donate even if it is 10 euros or 15 euros or more، The smallest donation makes a difference in my life

I sincerely appreciate your help and look forward to your continued support🥺❤️

https://gofund.me/7c433301

Vatted by @nabulsi @90-ghost

Please donate or share help me reach my goal

Good day, everyone. I am once again asking you to donate or share this post to support the victims of Gaza! I hope this can reach the right audience and you may get the help you deserve and need.

#gaza genocide #free gaza #free palestine #palestinian genocide #save palestine #donations

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serenelia · 10 months ago

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Hello dears! I am asking you to support my campaign to help me reach my goal. I am now in bad need your support to help me stay alive and safe. Gaza is a very dangerous place either on the level of livelihood or on the level of souls. I need your monetary support to enable me to get the basic needs for my family till Rafah crossing point reopens to move my family to safety and peace. Please help a family be alive through your small donations or througn your shares to others. Thank you so Much for your stand beside people in need.

FUND ME LINK

Hello, my apologies for not answering right away. But I hope you and your family stay safe and alive, I pray for you. To anyone reading this, please repost or donate to the link if you are able to!

#free gaza #free palestine #palestinian genocide #save palestine #donations #gaza genocide

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serenelia · 10 months ago

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Wanderer post-Irminsul pre-memories

The Avidya Forest had fallen into an eerie silence. The wildlife, wisdom born of instinct, had retreated to their shelters as the sky wept furiously upon the land. Yet, amidst this tempest, a solitary figure cut through the curtain of rain, his steps as steady as a metronome.

The lone wanderer who had traversed Teyvat, fresh from his stay in Port Ormos, set his way towards wherever his legs would take him.

The snippets of conversation he'd overheard at the port flickered through his mind. Merchants discussing trade routes, scholars debating ancient texts, travelers sharing tales of distant lands— all potential seeds for his next journey.

A sudden squelch and a muttered curse interrupted. Around the bend trundled a merchant's caravan, its wheels struggling against the sodden earth.

"Blasted weather!" the gruff voice boomed. The merchant wrestled with the reins of the sumpter beast. His eyes, squinting against the downpour, suddenly widened as they fell upon the Wanderer.

"By the Archons!” The merchant stared, slack-jawed, as if witnessing an apparition materialize from the very rain itself. “Where did you come from?"

The Wanderer tilted his head, sending a cascade of rainwater from the brim of his hat. His response, when it came, was as calm as a still pond amidst the storm's fury.

"The road behind."

A sound of part disbelief, part amusement left the merchant. “I can see that! But out in this weather? You're drenched to the bone!"

In that brief moment, the merchant caught a glimpse of eyes that seemed to hold the weight of centuries, at odds with the youthful face they resided in. Something about it sent an eerie chill though the bones.

Probably the storm.

"This is nothing. I’m used to traveling alone.”

The merchant shook his head. "Well, you won’t be traveling alone much longer. Hop on. I'm bound for Sumeru City. At least there you can seek shelter, kid. "

The Wanderer stood motionless like a statue. Then, with a slight nod that might have been mistaken for a trick of the light, he moved towards the cart.

"I'm Hakim," the merchant offered, flicking the reins to urge the beast onward.

"A pleasure,"

The cart moved, its wheels cutting fresh tracks in the muddy road. The relentlessly percussive pitter-patter on the canvas cover was punctuated by the occasional boom of thunder—nature's own applause to this impromptu duet of man and storm.

“So, what brought you out this far? An emergency of some sort, or unlucky timing?”

"Just passing through."

The merchant's brow furrowed. "Passing through? To where, if I may ask?"

"Sumeru City,"

A shake of the head sent droplets flying from Hakim's hair. "Well, you’re lucky you caught me heading that direction myself."

The Wanderer inclined his head slightly. "Your kindness is appreciated."

"Think nothing of it." Hakim waved dismissively, though a spark of curiosity still burned. "You’re from Inazuma, aren’t you? Though I must say, you don’t sound like it. Your accent is...difficult to place."

For a moment, the Wanderer was silent. When the answer was spoken, his words seemed to come from a great distance. "I've traveled far."

Hakim waited, expectantly for the rest. But that answer never came.

His gaze darted to his enigmatic passenger, who sat unnaturally still despite the jostling of the uneven road

What a weird kid.

Hakim muttered, words half-lost in the rain "You're a quiet one, aren't you."

The Wanderer's eyes flickered towards him for the first time since he’d hopped onboard. "What would you have me say?"

A huff of disbelief left him. "Oh, I don't know. Where you're from? What you do? Why in the world you're out here in this storm?" He squinted through the mist obscuring the path ahead. "Most folks have the sense to seek shelter in weather like this."

“Oh.”

The single syllable hung in the air, insubstantial yet somehow suffocating. Stunned into silence, Hakim was baffled by the ignorant and seemingly unfinished response. He cast a sidelong glance for the rest of the sentence, but the Wanderer’s eyes were still glued forward, unbothered by the look he received.

Yet again, Hakim found himself with more questions than answers.

Kids these days…

They rode on like this for a while. Noting how the Wanderer's gaze seemed to take in everything and nothing at once.

"Have you been to the city before?" Hakim tried again, breaking the silence once more.

"First time." As expected the response was swift, clipped, like the snapping shut of a book one had barely opened.

"Is that so? You're in for a treat then! The markets, the architecture, the Akademiya... Can’t find anything like it anywhere else in Teyvat."

More silence.

Unease crept up Hakim’s spine like ivy on a brick wall. It was a feeling he couldn't quite name – not quite fear, not quite worry, but a gnawing mix of both that set his nerves on edge.

Who was this kid, really? Why take a shortcut to the city if he seemed content to take his time in this downpour?

Frustration grew at the piling questions. It was like trying to converse with a statue – no, even statues sometimes seemed more forthcoming than this inscrutable traveler. It was impossible to hold a conversation with him!

The cart groaned its protest as it conquered another muddy puddle, sending a spray of earthy water over its wooden sides. Hakim grunted, and his grip on the reins tightened, knuckles white with the effort.

For just a moment, Hakim's eyes were drawn to the rippling surface. In that fleeting instant, he could have sworn he saw a figure reflected there – one that mirrored his passenger's form, but clad in vibrant reds and deep blacks instead of the muted blues.

A chill ran through him, one that had nothing to do with the rain. Why did looking at this stranger inspire a sense of dread deep in his bones? It was illogical, Hakim knew, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had invited something dangerous into his cart.

Enough! he mentally chastised himself. You're letting your imagination run wild, old man. It's just a shy kid.

Hakim shook his head, and the image was gone.

What was he even thinking? Was age really catching up with him? He must be losing his mind…

Clearing his throat to banish the last wisps of unease, he tried once more to start some small talk. "So, kid, what brings you to these parts? You don't seem like a merchant, and you're a bit far from the usual pilgrim routes."

The Wanderer's eyes flickered to him. "It depends. I go where the wind takes me."

"The wind, eh?” Spoken like a traveler. “Must be a mighty strong breeze to blow you all the way out here." He paused, then added with a wink, "Or are you running from something? A jilted lover, perhaps?"

For a moment, a flicker of confusion passed over the Wanderer's face, quickly replaced by that same impassive expression. "No. I seek...knowledge."

"Knowledge?" Hakim's bushy eyebrows rose. He hadn't expected that. "What kind?"

If it's knowledge he sought, he was in the right place.

The Wanderer's brow furrowed slightly, as if he was grappling with a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. "Of myself," he murmured, almost too quietly for the merchant to hear.

Hakim opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. There was something in the Wanderer's tone – a vulnerability at odds with his composed demeanor – that gave the merchant pause.

Rain continued to pour, but the silence that settled between the two travelers was somehow louder than the storm.

He really is just a lost boy…

"Ah, now that's a journey that never truly ends, kiddo. You won’t be the first person nor the last to seek it.”

Sensing the boy’s discomfort, he shifted the conversation elsewhere. ”What's your trade, kid?”

The confusion on his face served as a question in and of itself.

Hakim scoffed. “Surely a growing man like you must eat, even while seeking enlightenment."

The Wanderer's fingers moved to trace the outline of a strange ornament hanging at his chest. It clinked softly, a metallic sound out of place in the organic forest.

"I...make things," he answered slowly, as if tasting the words. "Mechanical things."

"A tinker, eh?" Hakim's eyes lit up with interest. He leaned closer, cart creaking beneath him. "Now that's a useful trade. Say, my wife's got this old—"

A sudden flash of lightning interrupted, casting stark shadows across the Wanderer's face. For a moment, Hakim glimpsed something in those dark eyes – a flicker of confusion, of loss so profound it made his breath catch.

The Wanderer blinked, and the moment passed.

"You were saying?" he offered, his tone neutral but his fingers still worrying at the golden feather attached to the crafted ornament.

Trying to shake off the unease that had settled over him again, Hakim nodded. "Right, yes… You know, my wife's always complaining about this old music box of hers. Maybe you could take a look when we reach the city?"

A small smile touched the Wanderer's lips. "I could look at it."

Hakim grinned, pleased to have elicited even this small reaction.

"Well, kid, it’s a deal.”

***

The bazaar swirled around him - a treasure of sounds, scents, and colors just waiting to be discovered. Yet the Wanderer diligently arranged wares behind a stall. Each fruit found its place in a growing pyramid that seemed to defy gravity, a testament to his dedication to the task he had sought out.

"Higher, boy! Stack them higher!" The merchant's voice cut through. "We need to draw eyes!”

A slight nod was his response. Dark strands of hair fell across eyes that held no spark of self, only the determination to fulfill the purpose he had chosen. Another apple. Another careful placement. Rinse and repeat.

This was why he was here. This was what he had asked for.

A name was called out. The Wanderer's ears strained at the familiar sound.

She was here again.

The call went up from several stalls, vendors and merchants alike waving enthusiastically to catch her attention. It wasn't the eager call of shopkeepers to a potential customer, but the warm greeting extended to a dear friend.

As she approached each stall, Wanderer watched the same scene unfold time and time again. Merchants would press fruits, sweets, or trinkets into her hands, insisting they were gifts. The girl would protest, her hands raised in polite refusal. The vendor would insist more strongly, and she would decline once more, her smile never wavering.

This transaction of generosity and refusal, taarof as they called it, would continue, a custom unique to the locals here that the Wanderer found fascinating. He had learned much these past few days about the place and what kind of people lived here, all by observing this girl.

Kindness was currency, more valuable than Mora, and debts of gratitude were meant to be repaid many times over. Help freely given was expected to ripple outward, creating a web of mutual support and care. Everyone, it seemed, was part of one big family.

It was unlike anywhere else his feet had taken him. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to settle down after centuries of wandering. If it was here he might have a chance at finding his purpose… It didn’t seem as impossible anymore. To learn, and to understand.

But some lessons, it seemed, were harder to grasp than others. The easy camaraderie, the unspoken bonds of community— these were as foreign to him as the strange customs and vibrant colors of Sumeru itself.

Could he really belong among them when they had no idea what he truly was?

The apple in his hand felt suddenly heavy. His eyes drifted back to the Star of Sumeru as she navigated the bazaar with grace and genuine affection for those around her.

A realization settled over him like a cold mist – he was not part of this. He stood apart, an observer, a stranger to the warmth that seemed to flow so naturally between these people.

"Hey–! Have you been standing there this whole time?"

Apples rolled in every direction, disappearing under the feet of startled shoppers. The Wanderer blinked, momentarily stunned as his meticulous work scattered across the cobblestones. He looked down at the round red fruits still clutched in his hands, then at the now empty display.

A heavy, hopeless sigh left Hakim.

"Lad, I appreciate your help, but we can't afford mistakes like this. Those bruised apples will have to be sold at a discount now."

"I apologize, boss." The Wanderer quickly crouched down to pick up the fallen fruits. "My mind was elsewhere."

"Clearly," Hakim grunted. "Look, why don't you focus on restocking from the back? I'll handle the displays for now."

He felt Hakim’s eyes on him for a moment longer, then turned away with a small shrug. He could tell Hakim thought that he was odd, no doubt about it, but he was a hard worker. In the end, that's what mattered in a place like this.

“And no more daydreaming! Got it?” He heard Hakim shouting out in reminder.

By closing time, the day's mishaps had been mostly mitigated. As they packed away the remaining produce, Wanderer felt Hakim studying him with interest.

"You did better this afternoon," he offered. “Keep at it.”

The simple praise sent an unexpected thrill through him. He hadn't even had the chance to demonstrate his true skills, the things he truly excelled at, and yet... he was accepted. Valued, even.

“Thank you, boss.”

Link for the full story

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serenelia · 11 months ago

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firsts

synopsis — sakusa and you have never had a conversation, and honestly you’re terrified of the man. but one conversation turns out to be many more of your firsts with sakusa.

warnings — reader is scared of men LMFAO, not really any

pairing — sakusa x implied fem!reader

wordcount — 710

a/n — happy birthday to himm! also my first hq post in a while OOPS also not proofread sorry!

You’ve never really talked to Sakusa.

You had been the manager of the volleyball team since your first year–and you had known him since then, but for some reason, you haven’t talked to him unless it’s volleyball related.

In fact–you don’t think you’ve ever had a conversation with him. But there's a first for everything, right?

Itachiyama has made it to nationals (not like it’s a surprise), and everyone has just arrived. The room continues to fill with people you don’t know, so you decide it’s best to stick with your team so you don’t get lost.

Well apparently that was a horrible idea to everyone else. Because you’ve lost everyone but Sakusa.

And you’re terrified. Surrounded in a room full of men you don’t know sounded like your worst nightmare, and you were living it currently.

Frantically scanning the room for anyone that’s not Sakusa, you somehow can’t spot any of the familiar bright yellow and green jackets your team is wearing.

Everyone knows that Sakusa doesn’t like to be bothered. But when you make eye contact with him, you change your expression to a way where he understands you’re pleading for help.

And he nods once.

Your mouth breaks out into a smile, and you shimmy your way to the crowd. Letting out a sigh of relief–you lean on the wall for support, muttering a small thank you to Sakusa.

You don’t expect him to say anything back, but you can hear his muffled voice say, “You okay?”

Tilting your head slightly up to make eye contact with him, you smile as you say, “Yeah–I’m fine. Are you nervous?”

You’re not sure why you ask the question, he probably doesn’t want to be bothered. I mean–you were still kind of shocked that he let you even be near him.

“Not really. Are you?”

You’re even more shocked when he continues the conversation. You’d expect he’d be the most rude person if he didn’t want to talk. “I-uhm I am a little bit. But we’re exempt from playing today right?”

Yeah–this definitely is the first and last conversation you’ll ever have with him.

He nods.

Then it’s silent.

Surprisingly, the silence isn't the most awkward thing you’ve experienced. It feels as if you’re just two people co-existing.

You watch as everyone excitedly hugs each other or glares at their next opponent. One person even tries to rile up the other, eliciting a small chuckle from you.

From the corner of your eye you can tell he’s curious, but he hasn’t said anything yet. This time, you take initiative to point at the players, also describing the jacket colors.

And you swear you can hear him laugh.

Not a full–hearty laugh obviously, but a small chuckle. A quiet one that you don’t even notice. But it’s definitely the first time you’ve heard him do anything resembling a laugh.

“You laughed.” You blurt out, before you even realize.

He furrows his brows, “I did.”

Your eyes widen, “Sorry–oh my gosh, it’s just the first time I’ve heard your laugh before, Sakusa-san. I swear I didn’t mean it like that–you just have a nice laugh–”

And now he’s actually laughing–like not even hard to hear.

He’s laughing, he’s hunched over, shaking and clutching his stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more mortified in your life.

“It wasn’t that funny was it?” You ask, a frown on your face.

Sakusa catches his breath, “Funnier than any of the jokes Komori tries to make.”

“There wasn’t even a joke! And I happen to like the jokes he makes!”

“Only if you’re sick in the head.”

You scoff at his remark, “Wow, Sakusa-san, you’re very hard to please.”

“Kiyoomi.”

“Another complaint?” You tease, trying to play dumb at what he’s trying to imply.

“Call me Kiyoomi.”

You can feel heat rush to your cheeks, you tuck your hair back behind your ear and mutter, “Okay, Kiyoomi.”

And even though he’s wearing a white mask, you swear you can see his eyes crinkle and you can assume the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly.

You’ve had many firsts with Sakusa today. This is the first time you’ve seen him smile–just maybe next time he’ll do it while his face is fully shown.

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serenelia · 11 months ago

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tolerate it

synopsis : your love should be celebrated, but sakusa seems to tolerate it. (loosely based off taylor swift’s tolerate it)

warnings : ANGST. food/eating, lots of self doubt, hurt no comfort, sakusa is a HORRIBLE fiancee, mentions of crying, lmk if there are any more!

pairing : sakusa x gn!reader (i think)

wc : 0.64k

a/n : was feeling evil!! (no i was just in an angst writing mood) uhhh enjoy ig! also plz tell me if there are any mistakes!

three hours and forty-eight minutes.

that’s how long you’ve waited for kiyoomi to come home.

you understood practice times fluctuated, but this was just disappointing. practice usually ends at five, it’s 8:48—no, it’s 8:49 now. you glance at your phone to find the screen reflecting your face, not a single message for the past three hours. not a simple "hey! practice is running late; don’t wait up for me" or even just "i’ll be home late." nothing. nothing should’ve been expected, he never messaged you anyway.

your dinner had gone cold, the nice plates covered with fancy food had been left to mold for how long it’s been.

he would’ve hated this dish anyway. the hours you spent perfecting the recipe had gone to waste, your time had gone to waste sitting, waiting for him to come around.

where was he? was he really that immature to have you waiting for three hours?

the clock ticked to nine o’clock. four hours, he had been mysteriously missing.

you were told not to text him while he was practicing because it would distract him. but you figured one text wouldn’t hurt.

"where are you?" was the only thing you sent. reading it stayed delivered for the next twenty minutes. but you figured your messages with him had collected dust anyway, so it wasn’t a surprise.

9:31 was when the door finally opened, he walked through the door quietly, looking up to make eye contact with you.

"where were you, omi?" you ask. it wasn’t an angry exclamation, just a confused one. but his eyes furrowed, and he crossed his arms, almost sighing as he answered, "practice."

you scoff, "practice? why didn’t you tell me that it would go on for an extra four hours?"

kiyoomi shrugs. he shrugs.

"are you serious, sakusa? you’ve been practically missing for four hours, and i don’t get a single text? did you not think your fiancee would be worried?"

"i can’t tolerate this right now, we’ll talk tomorrow." you watch him walk away from you, not looking back once.

tolerate this. he’s tolerating it. you’ve been waiting by the door for four hours, and he doesn’t care. he doesn’t care you’ve spent hours on end cooking his dinner, one that just went to waste anyway.

you’re putting your all into this relationship. since the moment you got together, you’ve constantly worried, "am i not good enough for him?" but you guess you never were. he told you that it was all in your head, he reassured you that you were an amazing partner. but what's wrong with you now?

you stomp into his room; he glances at you and then continues to unpack his practice bag.

"what am i doing wrong? why are you being like this?"

he sets down his bag and says, "I didn’t ask you to wait for me."

"is that not the bare minimum?"

"god- when did you become so clingy?"

frustrated tears start to blur your vision. "clingy? are you serious, sakusa?"

he nods ever so slightly.

"sakusa, have you ever thought about anything you did in this relationship? i can’t even remember the last time we had a decent conversation. and i’m clingy for wanting to save this relationship?"

"if it was so bad, why didn’t you just leave?"

the world had gone silent, as if it was listening to every piece of nonsense your lover had been saying. this was the man you loved. this was the man who tried to hide his tears of happiness when he proposed, this was the man who had so nervously asked you out. this was the man who had never forgotten anything important to you. but where was he now?

you take a shaky breath and ask, "did you ever even like me? or were you just tolerating it?"

he stays silent, and you take that as your cue to leave.

your love story should’ve been something from a romance movie, something sweet and sincere. but all good things came to an end, especially his love for you.

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serenelia · 11 months ago

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𝓪 𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓲𝓰𝔂

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Content includes: SFW, pair of Kokomi and reader who is named as "the scholar" in this fanfic (and who is probably autistic), use of non binary pronouns, lengthy thought process- except it's in Gorou's head so it's a little less long, use of dog traits.

Scroll away if you do not entertain fanfics of a sibling-ish relationship with Gorou, slow burn, and a multi-chapter series. previous part.

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The Sangonomiya clan, one of the major noble clans of Inazuma, sprouted from the worshippers of the serpent god, Orobashi, whose undying will of maintaining defense and desire to protect the dwellers of Watatsumi lives on throughout decades of time. Despite having passed many moons ago, a great number of heirs shouldered the heavy responsibilities of having inherited the will of a god, fulfilling their duties with utmost dedication. It’s preceding relationship with the Shogunate is, in a simple explanation, on relatively poor terms. For the differences in faith between two gods in a time of an ancient war were too grave to ignore, culminating in the death of the serpent god. In the recent era, the current heir to the bloodline is a young lady named Sangonomiya Kokomi, who was bestowed with the title of Divine Priestess. Her commendable knowledge of the art of war and keen insights into military affairs prove her to be a suitable supreme leader of Watatsumi Island. There is a famous saying amongst the people: “Never fear; Her Excellency Sangonomiya is here,” for no matter how rare she appears before them, a constant feeling of invulnerability is distributed throughout the island.

An experienced leader such as herself, an abundance of affairs all have tested the limits of her capabilities, for managing an entire island is no easy feat, especially considering her tender age at receiving such a great achievement. Lost it is to her the count of numerous retreats that had to be done due to the overbearing weight of the world. A pool of her own tears marks the treacherous path she had taken to prove herself to be the leader her subjects needed for the lustrous future of her home.

A problem regarding a group of outlanders is not alien to her; her involvement in it makes the incident less tiring to provide a solution for. She oversaw their recovery, which came speedily thanks to the assistance of the medical staff. The explosion the night before did fair damage to their bodies, so treatment was less of a problem compared to their demanding behavior. The group, who call themselves eremites, gave more regard to expressing their nostalgia than their gratitude. A chorus of requests and favors, including a trip back to their home, fills the infirmary at their wake. One of the members, a lady named Dwarkanath, was quite clear in her wish to return to her brother back in Sumeru, along with a bulky man who presented himself as Younan, eager to resume his business in trade. When questioned about their reasons for travel, they all had each of their own, but an increasingly common one includes the mention of a scholar inquiring about their services. They criticized the scholar’s choice of action loudly, filled with resentment and mocking, and pointing at them for every word uttered, which Kokomi paid little to no attention to, for judging a situation from only one side is a recipe for unprofessional conclusions and expectations. She sought information regarding the mentioned scholar, resulting to be fruitless as the eremites only resumed their outburst about them; other than the obvious information of their title, name, and their current stay in Watatsumi, they gave useless information.

Kokomi was inclined to ask for the presence of the infamous scholar to settle the hurdle, and her honorable general reciprocated the thought at his arrival, yet at their wish for separation from the group they had previously contacted, he was obliged to follow their request. Fortunately, he had asked the questions she had been itching an answer for and came to a sightful conclusion. Gorou had recommended she leave the rest of the matter with him, one she felt eternally grateful for, and agreed. The fatigue must have been seeping through her for him to insist, much to her embarrassment and the concern in his eyes, and after instructing him to report the closure of the problem, she retreats back to her room.

In a week, with minimal support from Her Excellency, Gorou settled the matter accordingly. And in his journey of returning to the island by boat, he stumbles upon a familiar face taking interest in an abandoned piece of land. He’s inclined to leave them to their business, but a peculiar sight in the garden tugs at his attention.

“Greetings, scholar, I see you’re still in Watatsumi! I hope your stay hasn’t been a dull experience.”

The unsuspecting scholar turns their head from the soil, indifference displayed in their expression as always. “Hello, General Gorou, what a coincidence.”

At the pitch of impatience in their voice, his curiosity became undeniable, “Indeed, but if I may ask, what are you doing?” —he nighed to their object of attention— “Is something the matter with the land?”

“Not particularly, just an object of interest,” they answer after a slight delay.

His ear twitches in taking notice of the obvious display of secrecy. “I see, are you planning to do something with it?”

Another pause, longer than the last passes by, the scholar’s gaze remains unmoving. Gorou had trouble debating whether he had accidentally offended them.

“I am,” said the scholar, “For… planting.” They point towards the containers filled with soil that were dripping with water on the bottom.

Gorou stifled a ruffle to his hair. “Yes, I can see that, but why exactly?”

“To… salvage the agriculture of Watatsumi..?”

His ears perk up. “’Salvage’? how so?”

It’s not a secret to be knowledgeable in the problems the island faces in multiple areas, be it in terms of livelihood or independence on itself, for the regular residents who call Watatsumi their home. And with the scholar, a foreigner from another land, be exposed and aware of the problems they face daily, he couldn’t help the wave of embarrassment pass through him. Egotistic is he not for having settled some matters of the island, well aware he is at the fact the governance over the establishment is far from perfect. In the previous events of a similar offer of help from another scholar reminds him of the sense of pity and mockery felt by the words uttered by her, he decides to observe the scholar before him, checking for an image of reflection.

They hold a hand to their chin, wearing a contemplative expression. “I saw how hard it is for the people in the village to eat. Their diet mostly consists of rice and canned goods rather than a freshly cooked meal, I didn’t mind it at first, but I got curious and wanted to try and think of a possible solution. I saw the condition the soil of the island is in, long when I got here, and thought it might be because of that, so I’m trying to plant some basic plants first in order to provide granny with a proper meal. I passed by here and thought to check it out and placed a bedding for the soil, it’s waterlogged- though I’m sure you know that already- anyway, it doesn’t look like bad place to start, and it is probably used for the same purpose before by probably another scholar too, and it’s near where I’m also staying at. The soldiers didn’t mind when I caught them looking at it so I continued my research. Surely that’s ok?”

Gorou blinks. “Yes, that is… no problem at all.”

“Okay. Then I also thought of the costs it would take, since I’m also thinking of a way for it to profit the island’s budget and for me too, but since it’s not really confirmed whether it would work so I focused on the probability of the chemicals in relation to the island. I considered the underground activity of the soil, so I-“

The ceaseless yammering of the scholar’s discussion seemed endless once they started, drowning out the tranquil sounds of waves rolling in the beach, and the chirping of birds. At the various attempts to correspond to the generous amount of information, his face contorts into one of perplexion, along with the constant moving of his ears and the furrow to his brows, that escapes the observation of the preoccupied scholar. All effort is in vain however, due to the sudden mention of numbers and chemical compositions. Further on, he could only feign a few nods of acknowledgement. It escapes him how they are able to voice out such complicated details, if he were to ask them to explain such, his words are sure to be drowned out by their constant chatter, for their words are endless, not a spare of silence left in the space.

He is quick to muster up the courage to speak up the moment a pause of breath is regained by the enthusiastic scholar, “So, in short, you want to plant some plants in the soil and use the income from it to help yourself get money and for the island as well? but the Akademiya might give you trouble if it doesn’t work out and give you a failing grade?”

The scholar halts and nods, Gorou took note of the penitence in their eyes, causing his tail to slump.

“Well, the idea isn’t bad. But to sell the vegetables I’m afraid, will need to have the permission of Her Excellency since you’ll be selling it under the name of Watatsumi.” He skims in between the subtle expression of expectance of the scholar and the dripping water from the plant beds.

Assuming this whole plan has a fair probability in succeeding, the mere thought of it being a chance of being the beginning of the rise of Watatsumi in the industry can lift a number of troubles regarding the alimentation of the locals he swore to protect. He, after all, is only a soldier, his abilities are limited outside of providing protection from external threats, having proven himself to be praise-worthy in times of a posing threat, it is easy for the thought of nourishing his people to be forgotten, for his capabilities lies elsewhere. Well aware of the imperfectness of his home, he had always praised the hard work Her Excellency consistently elicits, it never occurred to him the help of other people, nonetheless from another scholar.

The image of hopelessness stemming from the previous people who attempted to lend a hand lowers down his confidence in their (the scholar) prowess, for if even an expert in the field they (previous people) so proclaimed to be in, had given up in a similar endeavor, what will change if another scholar had done the same? The current one, so it seems, to be less as smug as the ones prior. Who runs their mind more than they do with their mouth, if one were to avoid asking them a question that is. They are prone to making mistakes, which is rather refreshing to him as he always viewed the students from the Akademiya to see themselves as perfect and omnipotent, perhaps it is something gained from having access to unlimited knowledge. They also are not ashamed to make up for it, if the current suggestion is an apology out of guilt in the scenario. He chooses to believe it is. Apart from the obvious reason of mora for their own benefit, understandable in many ways, they managed to make it advantageous to the people surrounding them, whether they deem the situation as pitiable or not, he is yet to discern the hidden language underneath their indifferent demeanor.

If he were to accept the plausible project, it could very much lessen the many burdens of Her Excellency, improve the economic impact of the island, and provide a better meal to the residents- if it were to be fruitful in its completion.

“I…” he intakes a deciding sigh. “I will mention this to Her Excellency if it shows promise, I’ll send some soldiers to take a look at it every day. If this shows progress, you have my word that I will lend you my support in completing this and take full responsibility.”

He can only hope his trust will not be misplaced, lest this will be the last time he will accept any help from foreign schools.

An inaudible sigh escapes the scholar, to which he could only assume to be one of relief. “Okay. Thank you, General Gorou, I will submit reports if any sign of progress shows. I will do my best to not let you down,” they pipe up, voice void of any appreciation they so speak of, though Gorou is persuaded to think to himself that they mean their words.

“Don’t mention it, and that won’t be necessary, I wouldn’t want to divert your attention by forcing yourself on my account,” he replies, ceasing the crease in his features.

“No, you won’t be forcing me, I just think it will help solidify your statement to the divine priestess once you say this to her. I appreciate it if you were thinking of creating the report yourself, but I think a more detailed report will help convince her further.”

“Ah, I see your point. Then I’ll be expecting your report let’s say, in a week?”

“More or less, yes.” They once again stare at him in silence, which he takes as a sign they’re simply thinking. “If it’s not too much to ask, may I ask you to refrain from mentioning this to anyone? Aside from the soldier you will send.”

A twitch to his ear. “I can do that, sure, but why?”

The scholar, despite their apathy, appeared to be hesitant. “I… do not want to attract unnecessary attention.”

Gorou, at that moment, sees a similar image of his timid sister in the scholar, and a surge of familiarity courses through him. “..Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.”

They nod and teeter towards the flower beds as Gorou’s gaze lingers on them a second longer before ripping his eyes away and resume his journey back to the shrine.

The following weeks felt much like a blur to the general, most of his time occupied with the usual trivial matters of the island: submitting records of the activity inside and out, surveying the borders, dealing with stowaways and adversaries that dare approach near the bustle of the village. Imagination it could be, for an inkling of hope looms over him once a problem relating to frugality is in his hands, comes to him the unwelcome images of a blooming performance by the island’s possible rise. He is quick to dismiss the thoughts; a particular line in the directives he holds high in regard, he chants repeatedly in his head. It shall be disadvantageous in any circumstance to limit oneself to a favorable outcome, resulting in great peril and disappointment. Deal with facts, not opinions. Gorou scolds himself for having to put in great effort to quit his imagination. This series of thoughts went on a loop with every submission of reports, for the papers containing data about the project agreed to came almost swarming. In the numbers themselves, the amount used is limited, but the same is not applied to the written information. Painted with jet black ink, some of its contents being of lighter color, for a reason he guesses is to arrange the contents; the formation of the subject itself is clean, but an interesting experience it is to decipher the queer handwriting of the scholar. The language used is, thankfully, the one he grew up with, yet it helps little with translating their work. Unable to ask anybody else for assistance, he is left to ponder. With that considered, Nami, the soldier he has assigned the task of delivering these reports to them both, has been acting rather odd. And Gorou had seen enough of the same behavior between men alike to tell something was at bay. But when inquired, Nami only dismissed any suspicious activity and fled. He had best of faith in his comrades and resolved that the matter was of no serious importance.

Along with the straining work, he had considered a summary from the scholar themselves; this, he gave up on, for during his endeavors along the garden, attempts to receive an explanation personally only led to another one of the scholar’s lengthy discussions. They still prove to be a challenge to understand. Even if he were to apply his knowledge of living in a family of 10, in which all his siblings have distinct personalities, he only ends up in an even more of a spiral. Even so, he tries his best to interpret their mannerisms, from their total silence to small talk and subtle reactions to certain things, in order to secure proper communication between them both. For instance, they seem to like it whenever Gorou is able to return their report back to them in a timely manner. If he were to hand it in later or earlier, he would be frowned upon, guessing by the subtle curl in their lips. Another thing he has observed is their dislike for surprises. His visits for the purpose of checking the progress, apart from the extra need to remind them to sleep when he catches them idling by in the middle of the night, were regularly disapproved of, except when he coincidentally managed to check on them on the same day and time. For far too long, he has attempted to interpret the reports they send, resorting to a weekly visit to the scholar, who always seems to be loitering around their subject of interest.

In the third week and a half upon their shared agreement, Gorou was treating the day as a regular tour of duty, taking a careful eye on the hidden passages around the area, until a rather enthusiastic pair of hands came waving at him. He couldn’t believe his eyes when the owner reveals itself to be the scholar, looking down at him from the cliff side. They requested for a moment of his time, and he agreed much to his amazement.

Moment of thought for their immediate knowledge of his whereabouts even in such a hidden place is quickly casted aside when they presented, miraculously, a sprout of a plant in the flower bed looking worse for wear only a few days ago. In the shining light of the sun’s rays, it couldn’t have been more of an image of a dream. The very thing no one else had been able to accomplish before, one he had little hope would take root, he is glad to be proven wrong.

He passes his gaze in between the thrilled scholar and the miracle in front of them, a smile, no matter how small, spreads to both of their faces.

At the silence, the scholar felt obliged to break it, “S..so I managed to make it grow, although it took longer than usual, I tried to grow some basic plants first so it can have an ample of time to get use- adjust- the soil I meant.”

“This is great! Wonderful work! I never really expected it to be successful in such a short time!” said Gorou, very much in awe, “Since when? does anyone else know about this?”

The scholar nods. “Me and the soldier you always send. Though, I asked him to keep it a secret for now, since I wanted to make sure it was stable. This had sprouted for about 2-3 days prior.”

The mystery of Nami’s odd behavior turned out to be a product of a wonder, Gorou felt a sense of pride in having avoided pointing a finger at him, “I see, thank you for confirming it before reporting, I applaud your work!”

At the unsteady direction of the scholar’s eyes, only then did he take notice of the steady wagging of his tail. He clears his throat. “I shall be reporting this to Her Excellency right away, I’ll tell you the details when I return. Rest assured I will give you my full support.”

Another nod of acknowledgement is sent his way. Their overall reaction felt rather mundane considering the great success of their work, but Gorou concludes they celebrated their greatest upon calling for his attention on it. And so, after an insightful conversation with them, thankfully with less confusing terms, he went on his way, up till a request of providing their own company with him reaches his ears.

He glances back at them, a twitch to his ear. “I suppose I could do that; I will have to ask Her Excellency for permission first though. So, I will have to ask you to wait outside while I try and convince Her.”

“Okay. What time shall you report? I’ll have to get my reports before going.”

“Ah, right! Forgive me for forgetting, I guess I’ll tell Her in.” -a quick skim at the sky- “About 20 minutes?”

A brief moment of contemplation was needed, “Alright, thank you.”

He was stricken suddenly by their overwhelming need for details and delicately adds, “I’ll be waiting for you here in that time. Will that be alright?”

“Yes. Will I be waiting for you by the bridge while you talk?”

“No, that would be unacceptable, I will escort you to the shrine myself, you’ll be waiting by the entrance.”

“Okay. Should I wear something more formal?”

Gorou spends another 5 minutes assuring the scholar’s concerns. All of which were deeply appreciated and absorbed by the bothered scholar.

They fidget with their hands. “Okay. Thank you, General, I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

The General shakes his head. “It’s no problem, I’m happy to be of assistance to you.”

A look of bewilderment passes over their face. “Thank you,” they repeat.

“I’ll see you there then.”

He foresaw the silent bob of their head and soon continues his journey.

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hopefully the autistic traits I put weren't too over the board since that's all based in my experience (i MIGHT be autistic tbh). Apart from that, this took 6 pages in word. nice ! hopefully I can continue working on this even with school since our end time is like- 5pm. Expect extremely slow updates, no matter how much I don't want it to be. Any form of support keeps me motivated, so don't be shy in spamming if you wish.

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serenelia · 11 months ago

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serenelia · 11 months ago

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