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──────── ⵌ ex umbra in solem ; welcome to new eridu .ᐟ

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FEATURING . . . PHAETHON .ᐟ

my proxy 𐀔 ♡ in which belle suffers by watching her brother act oblivious to your feelings. | wise, fluff, short drabble.

jealous charms ♡ wise had the strangest habits when jealous. | jealous wise, fluff.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

i wanna make a genshin socmed au so bad, i really want to go back to my roots but summer vacation is almost over and i can't really glaze over school because it's my last year of high school and i need to do well grrrrrr

– my proxy.

pairing: wise x gn!reader

premise: belle is currently suffering from an incurable disease of watching her brother play oblivious to your obvious hints of affection. she only prays that you confess soon or at least realize that wise actually feels the same.

– warnings: none

– author's notes: i am so normal about wise. whenever he starts talking in game i just burst into a fit of giggles. filler post for now. | ~700 words.

wise despite his name, wasn’t all that wise when it comes to noticing the very obvious hints you throw at him (or maybe he does know, he just isn’t speaking up about it). but belle does, and it sends her into a fit of giddy giggles that she hides behind her fist whenever it happens.

a fond and amused glint in her eyes whenever wise gets flustered after you call him “my proxy”. it wasn’t anything out of ordinary, wise always calls himself your proxy anyways, but whenever you do it on missions or when you go to hollows to accompany the cunning hares, it never fails to flush his cheeks a pretty pink. belle would let out a snicker and kick his feet from under the table and she’s always met with a warning glare. not once has he mentioned the romantic undertones of your words despite picking up on it himself. 

or the times when you would always drop by their store to hangout in his room. more often than not, when belle comes to check on you both, you’d be fast asleep on his bed with a bangboo in between you two. a devious smirk would always creep up belle’s face when she tip toes into the room and quietly open the cap of a washable marker to write on both of your faces. wise, when he wakes up, would come running down the stairs to chase belle around for writing “[name]’s proxy” in big bold letters on his cheek while you laugh. never once wiping the words of “wise’s hollow raider” with a heart on the cheek opposite to wise’s. 

belle isn’t ignorant nor is wise, but it does frustrate her when her brother doesn’t speak up about his very obvious feelings about you. a sudden feeling of irritation blooming within her chest when she sees your crestfallen expression when wise keeps calling you “just a friend” when general cop or the tin master ask what your relationship is. belle doesn't miss the flash of slight hurt in your eyes before you mask it with an awkward smile and wave of your hand, agreeing with what wise said even though you obviously want to be something more than just a friend.

she’s frustrated with you too. the hours the two of you spend in their workspace, curled up on the couch as you vent out your frustration at wise’s obliviousness. eight out of ten times, belle would just urge you to confess directly, however, you would always go quiet and murmur into the bangboo in your arms that confessing isn’t an option. at first, belle was rightfully confused. she saw how you looked at wise; you looked at him as if he hung the sun and moon himself. he was your entire world and you had him putty in your hands with just two words. it wasn’t until the day after when belle finally realizes –when nicole has her arms wrapped around your waist and an angry flush on her face when you enter their store battered and bruised, but still smiling– that this was a first for you too. 

before becoming a regular client, you would recklessly jump into hollows without a carrot or a proxy. barely making it out alive if nicole hadn’t found you and made you a member of her little band of misfits. you were enamored with wise when he first patched you up. you didn’t have anyone before him that cared enough to lecture you about danger, your recklessness, and bad habits. he was probably the first person that genuinely showed concern for you so belle understood for a moment why you didn’t want to confess. she’s watched enough romance movies and read books and comics to know that confessing has its risks. your friendship that you painstakingly built with her brother brick by brick would come crumbling down if you said those three words.

“my dearest proxies,” you barreled into their store front with a bright grin. belle doesn’t miss the twinkle in wise’s eyes when he sees you. “let’s go out for lunch. my treat!”

“what’s the occasion?” wise asks, putting down the boxes of videotapes on the counter to give you his undiverted attention.

your grin reached your eyes as you waved a piece of parchment in front of them both. “it’s paycheck day! and what better way than to treat my proxies to lunch for taking such good care of me.”

“count me in!” belle merrily jogs towards you and gives you a high five.

“what do you say wise?” belle flashed her brother with a knowing look. the boy only shook his head and started leading the two of you out the store.

“well, how can i say no to free food?”

wise stole a laugh from your lungs as you tangled your arms with them both. “that’s my proxy. now let’s go!”

belle never misses the way wise’s cheeks flush whenever you intertwine your arms together; it was as easy as breathing for you. she just hopes that one day you’ll see for yourself that wise also feels the same, he’s just clueless and a little shy to show it unlike you.

cherry wine

(separate) belle & wise, gn reader, kinda ooc... because im still early game i think..., late-night proofreading. godspeed if ur reading this 🫶🏾

wc; ~1.7k total

phaethon can navigate hollows with ease. but a crush?

Wise does not hear any of the words that play loudly on the screen in front of him. He doesn’t care to. Though this is one of his favorites– his brain is occupied by you just sitting here, beside him.

The documentary buzzes on about its topic, but Wise can’t make out a word over the sound of his rapidly beating heart. He’s stiff– sat up straight as a board even if the soft cushions of the couch beckon him to do otherwise. He can’t think. Usually he is the one who can iron out the folds of a situation, a cool collected mind built to play in contrast to his sister. But now his thoughts are a mess- contorted underneath the blunt of his embarrassment. If Belle were here now, she’d laugh right in his face.

It’s her fault he’s in this mess to begin with.

(“You suck at hiding it, you know,” Belle is at his side in the doorway, waving you goodbye for the day. Her words make him jolt.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Your crush, obviously.”

Wise is almost sure that for a moment, his heart stops beating. He barely manages to suppress the gasp that threatens to spill out of his throat.

Instead he brushes it off, turns on his heel pointedly and shakes his head from a sudden bout of fake-exhaustion.

“Okay. I’m calling it a night—”

“You’re probably not the only one to like them, Wise.”

He stops in his tracks.

Because she's right. In the months the two have come to know you, you've been the kind, helpful neighbor who has helped them through thick and thin. You are known on Sixth Street, a regular name heard from store to store— he'd be foolish to think that he's the only one that has warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of you. Damn.

“Buuut,” Belle nudges him playfully on the shoulder, her signature smile making her eyes crinkle at the edges, “You *could* be the first to make a move.”

“Belle–”

“I’ll even help! Come on Wise!”)

And now he’s here, with his heart fit to burst out of his chest.

“So…uh,”

Your attention is on him now, the smoothness of his voice pulling you from the visuals of the movie. Little does he know, Wise is a pleasant sight for the eyes. He has a soft, lopsided smile, and his complexion is tinted with warmth because of his room’s dim lighting. (It’s strange, though, that the more you look the more intense it seems to get.) His eyes are usually crystal clear and focused, but now they are glossed over with something that looks like unease.

The longer you stare, the harder his heart beats against his ribcage. It’s not fair, truly. You’ve only sat next to him and looked in his direction, yet his face feels like it burns and his tongue is too heavy to form proper words. Movies are his thing. Belle had suggested this because it should be easy. But he can’t think straight when butterflies are soaring in his stomach.

At the very least, he wants to see if you’re even enjoying the documentary, so he wills his mouth to do something other than open and immediately snap shut.

“Do you…like me?”

The movie. He meant the movie. The sentence was supposed to be: Do you like the movie.

There is something pitiful, Wise thinks, in how he scrambles to make up for his botched words. The calm, steady tones of his voice are replaced by chopped up mix-mashes of sentences, trying desperately to weave into something coherent.

To no avail of course.

His mouth can’t seem to stop now that it’s started, fragment after fragment tumbling freely out of his mouth– like it has a mind of its own. He’s flushed up to the ears, the pink flush to his skin now all- encompassing. His mouth just keeps moving– until you manage to stop it with your own.

You can feel his breath hitch in his throat. Wise doesn’t think he deserves a reward this good after fumbling so badly, but when your lips brush against his he can’t find it in himself to be truly upset. You are pulling at the edges of his jacket, hands digging hard into the material to ensure he doesn’t try to pull away. You can’t stand to see him apologize for crossing some sort of nonexistent line– your feelings are returned.

“Does that answer your question?”

Wise has to take a moment to breathe. The kiss was a short little thing, one that was chaste in nature– you just wanted him to be sure of your own feelings. The blue-green of his eyes are focused on you– truly focused, this time, not a fleeting glance that is quickly cast away.

“Wise?”

Your voice snaps him out of the daze he was in.

“Yeah. Yeah, but,”

It’s his turn to pull you in this time– subtly soft hands cupping your cheeks.

“Would you mind ‘answering’ me again?”

Belle is someone you’ve always looked up to.

She’s sweet and smart, and throughout all your errands throughout Sixth Street she’s always available to lend a hand. You couldn’t find a paper long enough to list all the reasons you’re grateful for her presence.

That being said, when you’re face to face with her, you can’t quite seem to get yourself together.

“C’mon, you’re not going easy on me, are you?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Belle pouting, brows furrowed and bottom lip jutted out. It’s adorable, and you’re so taken that you fully run into her snake on the arcade machine.

It was her idea to go out once the day had come to a close. The sun still hangs lazily in the sky, casting everything in gold. The arcade is a place where you can relax after being pulled this way and that by different people around town. This time, Belle joins you, offhandedly mentioning how she also needs to destress from such a long day at work.

You’re a bit distracted, though, when the neon lights reflect in her eyes and make her smile that much more radiant.

“You’re not answering…” Belle gasps, complete with a theatrical hand to her chest, “You are, aren’t you!”

“No, of course not! I just,” It dawns on you that the arcade is nearly empty, and suddenly this one-on-one game of snake seems far more intimate than it actually is. It’s just you and her. You can’t help but feel a bit giddy on the inside– the excitement must deal a blow to your accuracy.

“I’m just off my game, that’s all.”

Belle hums, contemplative. You can’t help but feel worried when the gears of her brain start turning.

“In that case…That just means we need to up the steaks!”

“Up the steaks?”

She nods, and her smile grows more devious by the second.

“Mhm! Let’s say…” Belle taps her chin, and though she is putting on a show of trying to think of something, you have a sneaking suspicion that she has already decided what it is she’s after, “The loser has to give something to the winner?”

You know, distantly, that this has to play into Belle’s hands somehow. But she’s never done you any harm, and her eagerness is so palpable that you can’t help but concede.

“Alright, alright. Fine.”

There is nothing but the buzz and click of the machine for a while, and Belle was right– the new motivation lights a fire underneath you, and suddenly your nerves are replaced by a burning desire to *win.* You don’t know what you’ll ask for if you do– by the time you two are finished here, with the score finally settled, you’re sure most of Sixth Street’s shops will be closed. But you want to win.

You swerve at the last minute to avoid Belle’s snake, grabbing a diamond on the tile in front by the skin of your teeth. But Belle has always been sneaky, able to pull a last-minute change in a situation with ease. She cuts a sharp turn, and the rest of her snake is able to encircle yours. You watch with a sickly sense of dread as your snake breaks into itty-bitty pieces.

You heave a sigh– at least it was a good game. But you’re still soured at the loss of a win that was so close.

“Aww, what’s wrong?” Belle is grinning, eyes forming little crescents, “Don’t tell me you’re a sore loser…”

You roll your eyes, but you’re far too endeared to be properly annoyed.

“’Course not. You won,”

The arcade’s lights have started to dim by now, the peachy-colored sky dipped into inky darkness as you step out.

“Even if you were sneaky about it.”

“Was not!”

You glare out of the corner of your eye, and again you are met with a playful pout.

“What is it you want, anyway?” You busy yourself with walking a few steps ahead, avoiding her moonlit face as much as possible. How can you put up a fight when she looks at you like that?

“Well,” Belle gazes upon the shops along Sixth Street, their windows dark and their doors closed, “Everything is closed for the night, looks like. I’ll have to get a bit creative, huh?”

Belle’s footsteps grow louder, and before you know it she’s made her way in front of you, eyes full of starlight.

“How about…”

She takes slow, calculated steps toward you, and your heart leaps in your throat.

“A kiss?”

Belle is but a few inches away from you, her head tilted and her gaze soft. Her voice is quiet and unusually meek as she says it, like her confidence had reached its limit.

“…O-of course, if you don’t want to–”

You pull her in before you can second-guess yourself. Her lips are plush, and though she is initially surprised by your sudden movement, it takes barely a second for you to feel them smile against your own. Her arms link around you like it’s the easiest thing she’s ever done, and the silver-tinted street is drowned out like it never mattered.

When you part, her face is flushed a pretty shade of pink. You aren’t better off– you’re so happy that you now stand on wobbly legs.

“Happy now?”

“Hm, not quite. I think you should give me another.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

ty for reading! rbs w/comments are appreciated!

wml chat im getting my grades today 🫡🫡🫡

– my proxy.

pairing: wise x gn!reader

premise: belle is currently suffering from an incurable disease of watching her brother play oblivious to your obvious hints of affection. she only prays that you confess soon or at least realize that wise actually feels the same.

– warnings: none

– author's notes: i am so normal about wise. whenever he starts talking in game i just burst into a fit of giggles. filler post for now. | ~700 words.

wise despite his name, wasn’t all that wise when it comes to noticing the very obvious hints you throw at him (or maybe he does know, he just isn’t speaking up about it). but belle does, and it sends her into a fit of giddy giggles that she hides behind her fist whenever it happens.

a fond and amused glint in her eyes whenever wise gets flustered after you call him “my proxy”. it wasn’t anything out of ordinary, wise always calls himself your proxy anyways, but whenever you do it on missions or when you go to hollows to accompany the cunning hares, it never fails to flush his cheeks a pretty pink. belle would let out a snicker and kick his feet from under the table and she’s always met with a warning glare. not once has he mentioned the romantic undertones of your words despite picking up on it himself. 

or the times when you would always drop by their store to hangout in his room. more often than not, when belle comes to check on you both, you’d be fast asleep on his bed with a bangboo in between you two. a devious smirk would always creep up belle’s face when she tip toes into the room and quietly open the cap of a washable marker to write on both of your faces. wise, when he wakes up, would come running down the stairs to chase belle around for writing “[name]’s proxy” in big bold letters on his cheek while you laugh. never once wiping the words of “wise’s hollow raider” with a heart on the cheek opposite to wise’s. 

belle isn’t ignorant nor is wise, but it does frustrate her when her brother doesn’t speak up about his very obvious feelings about you. a sudden feeling of irritation blooming within her chest when she sees your crestfallen expression when wise keeps calling you “just a friend” when general cop or the tin master ask what your relationship is. belle doesn't miss the flash of slight hurt in your eyes before you mask it with an awkward smile and wave of your hand, agreeing with what wise said even though you obviously want to be something more than just a friend.

she’s frustrated with you too. the hours the two of you spend in their workspace, curled up on the couch as you vent out your frustration at wise’s obliviousness. eight out of ten times, belle would just urge you to confess directly, however, you would always go quiet and murmur into the bangboo in your arms that confessing isn’t an option. at first, belle was rightfully confused. she saw how you looked at wise; you looked at him as if he hung the sun and moon himself. he was your entire world and you had him putty in your hands with just two words. it wasn’t until the day after when belle finally realizes –when nicole has her arms wrapped around your waist and an angry flush on her face when you enter their store battered and bruised, but still smiling– that this was a first for you too. 

before becoming a regular client, you would recklessly jump into hollows without a carrot or a proxy. barely making it out alive if nicole hadn’t found you and made you a member of her little band of misfits. you were enamored with wise when he first patched you up. you didn’t have anyone before him that cared enough to lecture you about danger, your recklessness, and bad habits. he was probably the first person that genuinely showed concern for you so belle understood for a moment why you didn’t want to confess. she’s watched enough romance movies and read books and comics to know that confessing has its risks. your friendship that you painstakingly built with her brother brick by brick would come crumbling down if you said those three words.

“my dearest proxies,” you barreled into their store front with a bright grin. belle doesn’t miss the twinkle in wise’s eyes when he sees you. “let’s go out for lunch. my treat!”

“what’s the occasion?” wise asks, putting down the boxes of videotapes on the counter to give you his undiverted attention.

your grin reached your eyes as you waved a piece of parchment in front of them both. “it’s paycheck day! and what better way than to treat my proxies to lunch for taking such good care of me.”

“count me in!” belle merrily jogs towards you and gives you a high five.

“what do you say wise?” belle flashed her brother with a knowing look. the boy only shook his head and started leading the two of you out the store.

“well, how can i say no to free food?”

wise stole a laugh from your lungs as you tangled your arms with them both. “that’s my proxy. now let’s go!”

belle never misses the way wise’s cheeks flush whenever you intertwine your arms together; it was as easy as breathing for you. she just hopes that one day you’ll see for yourself that wise also feels the same, he’s just clueless and a little shy to show it unlike you.