AO3 users when you tell them not to put their oc fics with the 'x reader' tag:
For all of my dear AO3 users;
PLEASE stop putting your OC fics with the '/reader' tag.
The amount of fanfics that I see with both the 'original character...' and 'Reader' tags is RIDICULOUS. Mostly because 90% o them are just OC fics.
If the main character has a fucking name and description then it's an Oc, not a reader insert.
Just put one tag or the other, but don't put both just because you want to get more views, if someone wants to read an oc fanfic, I assure you they will search the specific tag.
However, putting both or tagging it as a 'reader' instead of oc causes confusion and honestly, it fucking pisses me off SO BAD.
So yeah, just got to let it all out after searching for half an hour in AO3 for a fucking reader fanfic since all of them are damn oc fics with the wrong tag.
How would Rhys and Pierce react that reader who a friend of Ava is a witch?
OOOOO I love this idea!! Rhys and Pierce are not my number one characters so forgive me if I screw up their personalities a bit but here goes!!
Warnings: slight suggestive content, I am not a practicing witch so I intentionally left it a little vague when it came to actual practices, some language, slight violence in Pierce's oneshot, lmk if I missed anything!
It hadn't been more than a month since Ava called me screaming and crying over some 'demons' taking over her life.
"Please you have to get them out!! They're driving me crazy!!"
"Get them out?? I'm not an exorcist! I'm a witch!! And a new one at that! I can barely cast a hex much less dispel evil spirits! Girl, call a priest!!" Aca and I have always had each other's backs, ever since high school. I was always the one she would call when she needed something and considering how lonely we both were and how hard it became for her to rely on other people, I felt it was an honor. Though she did overdo it from time to time.
"Spirits? What no! There's actually five men in my house claiming to be demons!!" Wait what...
"IT'S DAEMOS HUMAN!!! CORRECT IT OR I WILL!!!" The unfamiliar voice on the other end of the phone made my heart sink to the floor and I immediately grabbed my keys and a can of wasp spray and raced out the door.
That was about two weeks ago, and I haven't left Ava alone since. They don't seem intent on taking advantage of her 'hospitality', but I wasn't going to take any chances. Especially not with how comfortable she had grown letting them wander about her house unsupervised. One of them went through her bra drawer like a lunatic for crying out loud!!! talking about 'sources of power' and what not.
Creeps...
Rhys, the only one who seemed relatively well adjusted, came and sat next to me at the kitchen counter. I kept my eyes glued to the cards in front of me.
The Tower Upright...
interesting
"Excuse me, I don't mean to intrude. What are those?"
A distracted smile makes its way to my face as I continue to shuffle the cards, another pops out. "Tarot cards. And you're not intruding as long as you don't take them from me like Asch did."
The Chariot reversed...
Rhys lets out a nervous chuckle and continues to inspect my actions. "Do they...do anything?"
I steal a glance; his brows are pressed together in concentration and his eyes pass between expectance and curiosity. "More or less. They're kind of like a guiding tool. We can use them to better understand ourselves and connect with the universe around us. They can be a useful way to prepare for coming events, or to better handle current ones. But most people don't believe in it so it's whatever I guess."
He gasps slightly. "Intriguing. So you use them to see the future and read minds?"
The snort that came out of me was far from intentional, but I honestly had no other idea how to react to that statement. "I mean, sure something like that."
"Can you read mine?"
I turned to him. "You want me to do a tarot reading for you?"
He nodded with more excitement than I had seen from any of them besides the pink one. I shrugged and began to reshuffle the cards. "Fine but just a basic one. I'm still a new witch and I don't wanna hear anything mean or judgy from someone who doesn't even-"
"You're a witch??"
For some reason I felt my blood run cold. I felt like a bug under a microscope, and I couldn't tell if the gaze he had fixed me with was simply observation, or calculation. Similar feelings with vastly different intentions. But both managed to send a shiver down my spine and a reluctant blush to my cheeks.
All I could muster was a nod before forcing myself back to shuffling.
"That's incredible!! Why did you not tell us before! Ava told us she was a powerful sorceress but TWO powerful magic users working together is surely a force to be reckoned with!! You must tell me what you know! I want to learn everything!"
His words forced a smile to my face, and I couldn't help the blush that accompanied it.
His praises continued. "I knew you had to be quite skilled to be so close to Princess Ava, but this explains it all! You were simply trying to hide your abilities so that we wouldn't expect your attack if something went wrong!! How incredibly intelligent!" He leaned forward, excitement practically bursting from him. "Please read this 'tarot' I simply must see your skills firsthand!"
I let a chuckle escape and went back to shuffling the deck. Two cards fell out.
"You know what Leif!! One of these days you're gonna wish you kept your dirty little mouth shut for once!!"
Leif was (as usual) doing nothing but being the biggest menace he possibly could be. Stealing my phone, going through my things, screaming in my ear, shit talking, etc.
To say I had enough was an understatement. The only thing that kept me from wringing his neck was a large muscley arm wrapping around my torso and throwing me over his shoulder. "Hey! Wha- PEIRCE!!" My screaming didn't stop him from wordlessly lugging me to my room and tossing me onto the bed. Now I know what you're thinking 'omg that's so sexy this is totally about to get fun' well I thought the exact same thing the first three times this happened, and I'll admit the thought still crosses my mind the twelve times it's happened since then but NO! This is still a (mostly) family friendly blog after all (for now).
Anyway, I sit up with a groan and glare at Peirce who has made himself comfortable in the chair in the corner of the room. This happens so often that it's practically scripted at this point. Leif is an ass, I get frustrated, Peirce gets tired, carries me to my room, then babysits me so I won't go out and try to strangle the antagonistic fiend in the other room.
At this point I'm done. I'm so sick of Leif and his attitude and lack of consequences. Just because they think Ava is a powerful sorceress and they don't think I'm anything more than her confidant doesn't mean they get to push me around. Leif is gonna get what's coming to him.
I glance at Peirce who is sitting arms crossed, still watching me though his gaze is softer now. I jump off the bed and head to my desk. digging through the drawers I pull out some candles and begin flipping through the book of incantations I keep tucked under a floorboard. I used to store said book in my nightstand drawer but surprise surprise, the guys went rummaging through my things and I don't trust them not to mess with it.
I'm missing a key piece to the puzzle. "Hey Peirce?"
A hum can be heard from the corner.
"Could I talk you into stealing some of Leif's hair for me?" I turn and give him the sweetest least guilty smile I could muster. He rises slowly and stalks over to me looming as he stared into my eyes as if inspecting for a motive. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't realized how much larger than me he was, because I had defiantly noticed, and it was absolutely something I thought of frequently.
He let out quiet grunt and left the room. I was probably imagining the blush on his cheeks, but the image was going to stay in my head for a painfully long time.
"Peirce w- OW!!! YOU PRICK WHAT THE HELL!!!"
Leif's screaming was nothing new, but it almost made my heart swell to know that Peirce was willing to potentially start a confrontation just to get something I asked without any context at all. 'I should definitely kiss him for that'
He came back into the room holding a suspiciously large chunk of blond hair and handed it to me. I smiled at him, and he nodded before following me over to my desk.
"What are you doing?" His voice always caught me off guard. It was a beautiful, gentle, sound that filled my ears like a deep breath after drowning. I wish he would talk more but I didn't ever want to force him.
"I'm gonna hex him."
"Leif?"
I hum a confirmation and turn to the desk with the supplies. He continues his questioning. "On Daemos it takes a very skilled witch to perform such a task. Are you a skilled witch?"
I nod. The 'skilled' aspect was more or less true. My mentor was very skilled, and I'd been training under her for almost two years now, but I still had a long way to go, and she'd probably scold me big time for simply attempting this... but who said she had to know.
"So you are...magic?"
I turned to look at him. He stood next to the desk, eyes fixed on the task before me, and I couldn't help but smile as I responded. "Yea, something like that. Why?"
A flash of concern passed over his face, but it was quickly replaced with a soft smile that almost melted my heart to the floor.
"It's good to be powerful. I'm glad to know you can keep yourself safe while I can't." Pierce's words shot straight to my heart and tears instantly welled in my eyes.
"Thank you...Pierce." The blush that filled his cheeks at my words was enough to distract me from the fact that I had already lit the candles and was now burning the hair I held in my hands. "OW! SHIT!"
The hair fell from my hands right onto the carpet below us causing a mini panicked stomp dance to shake the room and probably the downstairs neighbor's entire apartment but that also probably the least obnoxious thing they've heard from up here so what can you do I guess.
Welp...there goes that hex...
Pierce begins to walk out the door. "I will bring you more." and despite the screams from the other room, the only expression I could muster was a flustered smile.
I hope you enjoyed!! Please feel free to send feed back, this whole blog is an attempt to work on my writing skills so I'm completely open to suggestions and constructive criticism!
Stasis. That is the state you have inhabited for years- decades maybe now. You could not tell. One where you are rendered unable to even speak using your own tongue, think with your own mind, move- just once to hug those you love with your own body. So fickle a thing it seems now, after centuries spent beside those you loved until that damned day-
âThe day you foresaw has come.â Moraxâs voice is low as he shifts into the humanoid form, having returned from Celestia after a summons- the only summons, your contract allowed them. You cannot say you are surprised it is for this. âWe have been given the order to ensure Khanreiâah falls. No mistake to be made, no way to get past it with the minimum amounts of effort. We must accompany the rest of the seven in this.â
Guizhong was pacing by then, back and forth and back and forth and-
Your head is ringing.
She barely escaped death due to your interference that day so long ago. But with this? The Abyss coming forth so aggressively? Could you even-
âBreath.â Moraxâs voice is a soft balm to your worry as his tail finds itâs way around you, Guizhong in his hold now- safe, as she tries to calm down. âNo one thing can cause harm to any of us as long as we remain together. I will mobilize the adepti as you saw best little dove, in order to protect Liyue in our absence. Then we may leave, and promise me, the both of you, never to get out of my sight.â You could only feel yourself nod- barely.
You felt hollow, in a ways facing this inevitability- your heart had dropped so low into the earth itâs beats were muffled, so far away you could barely feel it. Everything passed as had been planned- the Adepti, ready to shatter the ground in order to open the Chasm and cease the advance of the Abyss from Sumeru, read to awaken Osial if need be and something were to happen to all three of you.
It was hauntingly easy, that final fight. The civilians screaming was a muffled sound at the back of your mind, overtaken by the roars of riftwolves and Ruin Guards and-
âSteady your hand.â Guizhong, closer to you now as you cover Moraxâs back in the little trinity you had all become accustomed to. Your bow paving the way forward, Guizhong with her own attacks to disorient, and Morax- shield and executor of any who stepped into itâs bounds. It was perfect in itâs harmony- a sonority only your ability could have given. You suppose that is what made this all the worse.
A few days, weeks maybe, then the godless nation fell. Itâs people with it, reduced to beasts that could not even-
Your heart could not handle such cruelty on so large a scale. Damnation of thousands for the sins of five- if only you couldâve-
It smells of grass now. Home, you suppose. It was barely a few steps into the borders of that land before you collapsed. You knew not why then- they know not why still. And since then you have been justâŚsinking, in this undefinable space. This void that seems keen to swallow you whole as 2000 years of memories pass by your eyes.
âWhat a domestic life you have shapedâ. Right, that.
It had been long, since you last heard it speak. Muffled in past and now-
âYou cannot escape hearing me Descender.â If you knew where they were, you would be giving them the glare of your life. But you didnât. You couldnât tell where up and down were any longer. Could not find yourself within yourself. Could not awaken again.
This was not death, you still heard too much for that- Guizhong and Moraxâs soft words as they visited wherever you had been placed. The Adepti, holding celebrations now in the presence of- your unconscious self. If only to try include you in all as they once had.
âGanyu has grown quite a bit now. She learns the bow well. Seeks to be as good as you once wereâ What useless chatter
âThe Adeptus have moved into different spaces across Liyue. It will only grow to be a safer nation still. It will be perfect once you return.â What a fleeting concept perfection is. What useless hope to think-
You will return. Whatever it is making itself known within your mind again will not change that. Your heart lies with two others- two thirds of what make you all whole. The Gnosis is blinding whenever you recall that love- so unyielding, so steadily forged over two millennium-
âYou speak such ills within their mind. It is unnecessary, their mind neednât be broken for this,â if a name was spoken to the entity thereafter, you did not hear it, but the voice- that voice-
âI will take it from here.â You barely noted that grating presence take itâs leave as you realized who it was speaking, what presence now utterly held your mind in itâs grasp as it had that day in Celestia so long ago, had forced your will down into nearly nothing in a matter of seconds-
 Phanes.
¡ â ¡âśÂˇ â ¡Â
The ruler of the heavens was kind enough to returnâŚsome semblance of a body to you as they spoke. The plains of your mind were painted in Celestiaâs image at the brush of their hand, and they walked- not even looking back to you, simply giving one order.
âFollow, Descender.â And you did. Not that you could do otherwise as the world rebuilt itself around you both with each step. The form they assumed now- he assumed now, would be one to make your head reel if you had not learnt some form of fortification during the last few centuries you've had alive.
A perfect mirror of Morax, yet only with blue shining eyes and hair whiter than direct light of the sun. Was it an attempt at comfort compared to the mind breaking true form they wielded the last they spoke to you? You did not know. You could not ask.
âSit.â A chair forms, and your âbodyâ does as ordered within a moment, Phanes doing the same where he now faces you. Legs crossed, head leaned on his hand with his foot tapping to some unseen rhythm- relaxed as if talking to an old friend. âYou have been quite an unexpected thorn in my side in the time you have been here. Shifting the story written within the leylines as you have this cycle. Know you how much work has been undone due to it? How many gods and mortals alike will be born and unborne due to this?â
Confusion mustâve laced your face, because they- The Divinity, ruler of the heavens, sighed- unnaturally human in gesture, even as it echoed. âYou neednât play dumb. We have been watching you a long time now, your actions or lack thereof. Your choices. Your words. You are not of this world- not of this plane, yet here you stand.â
Shit. You had not realized- everything you had said was to happen, every word you told Morax and Guizhong and-
âTemper yourself. I have no time for panic.â Alright, rude. Yet even as he spoke he waited for the beating drums of a heart- not your heart certainly, but a heart within your possession in this thing not your body- to pass. âI will make this quite simple.â He lifts a hand, and before it forms the very contract that had been stricken with Celestia and the three of you who now held the geo gnosis. Oh, oh no he couldnât-
âSince you seem so adept at suchâŚentertaining contracts, I would like to propose one to you. Descender to Descender.â His face twisted in what you could almost call a smile, his eyes boring into yours with a presence so heavy you could feel your lungs simply cease to expand with air, the last of his words ringing like a death knell in the bounds of your mind.
p.s : i really loved your childe fic, it was awesome (I'm nervous alright don't judge međ)
anon,,, to write this i have scoured the very edges of the zhongli x reader tag of tumblr,,,,,, i have tried so hard to learn how to write for this man,,,,, apologies for the wait,,,,
find the event here!
"You do know that it's bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony, right?"
A rich laugh sounds from the other side of the door, filled with a fondness so intense that even the thick wood can't muffle it entirely.
"I intend to abide by tradition, of course," Zhongli's voice is smooth like honey when he speaks, imbued with warmth that seems to soak into your very being with every syllable. Even after all these years, it still sends shivers to the very core of your being. "But is it too grand a wish to speak with my lover before our own wedding?"
"I'll allow it this time," You tease. As if the man has some kind of gravitational pull, you find yourself drifting over to the door until it is the only thing separating the two of you. "But really, did you need something? Not getting cold feet, I hope?
"Of course not. I actually came to check that you are feeling alright."
You pause for just a moment. The nervous fluttering in your chest bubbles up again at the implication of what was awaiting youâ it wasn't that you were worried to marry Zhongli or anything⌠but this day was still a big deal. It was close to impossible not to be at least a little jittery over such an event.
"I'm a bit nervous," You mumble honestly, the words so quiet that you're half convinced they wouldn't be audible through the door anyway.
"Nothing about our love is changing. This is merely a formal binding." Zhongli, as usual, manages to be perfectly in-tune with your feelings. Something in the back of your mind whispers that even if he hadn't heard your confession, he still would have felt your nerves anyway. "There's nothing to be concerned over. We've gone over the terms of the contract together."
You giggle, a small weight lifting from your shoulders. Only your fiancĂŠ could possibly manage to make a wedding sound so entirely professional and unromantic.
"I know that, but I can't help it," You press your forehead against the wooden doorframe, and suddenly the room doesn't feel as lonely as it did before. Zhongli's presence, even through the ornately carved wood, feels like an anchor sent to steady you in stormy waters. "The rest of our lives starts in like⌠an hour."
You can hear Zhongli's smile in his voice when he speaks. Though it had been your own insistence to follow the tradition, you can't help but want to throw open the door and hold him close. The previous fear in your chest seems to loosen and drift away, leaving your heart warm with affection.
"Indeed it does. I can't think of anything more wonderful."
Zhongli normally isnât one for PDA. But when people question his relationship with you, he can certainly adapt.
The day is pleasant and there are few responsibilities that require tending to, so itâs perfect for some leisure. Zhongli suggests taking you out to a lovely new sweets shop thatâs opened up near your home, and thus the afternoon quietly saunters by at a cozy outdoor table while savoring some lovely almond jelly and dragonâs beard candy.
It should be uneventful, but Zhongliâs keen hearing picks up on something rather interesting from the table behind him. A perfunctory glance reveals two young people, perhaps tired adventurers guessing by their sun-kissed skin and frazzled appearances, here to recuperate.
âThat Mr. Zhongli sure is handsome,â sighs one of them, all moony. âEven the way he eats is so dignified. The kind of man youâd proudly bring home to your parents.â
âOh, I agree. I havenât been in this city long, but I can say for sure everyone loves him. Heâs super friendly, too!â
âThat person sitting across from himâthat a friend or a lover? You can be honest and it wonât hurt my feelings, I promise.â
âOh, I donât think you have to worry about them. Itâd be a miracle for a man like Zhongli to be single, but it doesnât look like theyâre an item,â the other one comments. âThey donât seem to be doing stereotypical couple-y things, after all. I donât see them, like, handsy with each other. Get what I mean? Seems like the kinda congeniality youâd show a coworker youâre being nice to for brownie points.â
âSo youâre saying thereâs a chance?â the former whispers excitedly. âDâyou think I can ask Mr. Zhongli out when I catch him alone?â
Zhongliâs eyebrows rise ever so slightly. Why, he had never reason to believe anyone would view his relationship with you as platonic. But if they are basing it on a lack of customary outward gestures, thenâŚ
He gets up without a word and crosses to the other side of the table, seating himself directly beside you.
âOh?â You stop mid-scoop of your jelly and gaze at him. âWhatâs up, Li?â
You think heâs about to tell you something serious, but his face only breaks into a smile. âAllow me,â he says warmly, taking the spoon from you. With practiced care, he digs into the supple jelly and holds the spoon out to your mouth.
You eat without question, but as you do, Zhongli pats your head and supplements it with a kiss to your forehead, his smile unwavering. âMy darling.â
âH-huh?â Shyness creeps up your veins and you turn your face away, but Zhongli gently hooks a finger under your chin.
âAh ah,â he chides softly, âlet me see your cute face.â
Also, is it just you, or is he speaking a little louder than usual?
He feeds you several spoonfuls more of the stuff, all while youâre steeped in confusion and fluster. He pats your head after each bite, beaming all the while, and after a few minutes ofâwell, whatever has come over him, you ask, âArenât you going to have the jelly yourself? Itâs almost goneâŚâ
âAh, but you see,â Zhongli says silkily, running his gloved thumb over your lower lip, âit shall taste sweetest from your mouth.â
He kisses you before you can say anything, a firm and divine little kiss thatâs over in a second, but you could have sworn you heard the clatter of silverware somewhere nearby. No matter, youâre too dazed to think of anything else.
You blink dumbly at him, the god as composed as ever. âO-oh myâŚâ At this, he merely chuckles and pinches your cheek.
After you two are finished eating, he stands up and holds his hand out to you. âWell then, my dearest gem, shall we stroll about the gardens for a bit? I do wish to show you the new blooms that have graced the greenâthough none shall compare to your own beauty, I believe.â
Youâre still stunned, but you comply. As you two leave, you pass by a table where a poor adventurer seems to be sobbing into their plate of red bean buns.
I honestly might just take a break after character 20 to just farm artifacts and just... Do random things on my account since I recently got C1 wriothesley and his top 1% on akasha for burn melt. So I kinda wanna farm his artifacts set
And I also wanna farm for a lot of characters and strong box too.
Idk, I just want a break from building after chara 20 but I will return sooner or later
when you take off your wedding ring during a fight [genshin men]
â ft. alhaitham, ayato, baizhu, dottore, kaveh, pantalone, zhongli
â ~0.6k | fluffy angst | gn!reader
Alhaitham
â-what does that have to do with the issue at hand?â Alhaitham breaks off his sentence in the middle, his eyes narrowing. And right now, you have half a mind to believe itâs only because heâs mad he didnât finish his thought.
The ring sits heavy in your palm; the weight of the promises it symbolizes. The memories of you and him. He stares at the band in your hand, his thumb touching the matching ring on his own finger. For a moment you feel like he might take it off too, despite how out of character that would be for him, and your heart feels like itâs gonna crumble on itself. You bite your lip.
âDo you need a moment?â he asks in a tone much softer. For the first time since you began fighting his voice isnât the same as it always is.
âYeah,â you admit. More words form and die on your tongue. You donât even know where to begin - to spill your arguments now that you have the chance, or apologize? Part of you just wants to scream and cry.Â
Alhaitham gives you space. You can hear him in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water, while you sit down in the armchair and stare at the ring still in your palm. You forgot what it looks like removed from your finger. It looks so foreign, and not in a good way. You slowly slip it back on your finger. Thereâs guilt gnawing at your conscience. You shouldnât have done that.
And so you stand up and join him in the kitchen. Before you can speak, he slides a glass of water towards you. Maybe the fight was pointless. Just a little bit. You drink the whole thing.
âBetter now?â he asks, voice still careful. You nod. The lump in your throat only dissolves when you see the ring securely on his finger. It seems he looks for yours too. âDo you want to continue discussing that?â
You need to remind yourself that this is Alhaitham. Heâs only asking. Heâs not mocking you, not blaming you.
âNo,â you shake your head. You put the glass back on the table, rounding it to stand closer to him.Â
âI explained my side,â he says, but he doesnât push, âItâs more productive if you tell me what you think now.âÂ
You suppose it would be. You know it would be. Heâs right like he always is.
âCan we revisit it later?â you suggest, âIt⌠I feel tired.â
Itâs almost hesitant, the way he nods and opens his arms for you to walk into. Still you do, without question. The longer he holds you, the more you think about whether the fight was worth it. Was this really that important to you? Was he so mean that you had to do that?
Your thoughts are brought to a standstill by a hand prying yours away from his chest. Unsurprisingly, itâs just him. Just Alhaitham taking your hand, intertwining your fingers and resting your hands above his beating heart. Your rings press against each other. Itâs not much of a difference, but you feel him relax. His eyes reflect on the shiny surface of the rings. Youâve never seen him look so relieved, and you donât think itâs the metal distorting the image.
After a brief hesitation, you look up. Nothing changes, Alhaitham looks exactly like his reflection on the silver mirror. His thumb strokes the side of your hand.Â
âIâm not going anywhere,â you say quietly.
âIâm not letting you,â he smiles, careful. But the smile canât hide how serious he is - not that youâd want it any other way.
Ayato
How can he just stand there? Calm, impassive, as if this was just another diplomatic negotiation. Perhaps it is, perhaps you should think about it that way too but-
âIâd think about that some more,â Ayatoâs voice raises, âIf I were you.â
You should. You definitely should. But him pointing it out makes you not want to, gets on your last nerve and so your fingers wrap around the band on your finger and tug- Try to.
Thereâs a patient hand, though really not so patient now, preventing you from moving. His touch isnât rough, but it certainly isnât the gentle, reverent touch youâre used to. How did he get to you so fast, you have no idea, or why it feels like thereâs nothing you can do to break free from his touch. The candlelight paints shadows that make it feel like heâs towering over you.
âI know youâre upset, my love,â he speaks slowly, not much of a difference from how heâs been talking the whole night but there is a barely noticeable strain to his voice that makes you reel in any attempts at pulling your hand away from him, âBut what youâre about to do is playing dirty. And you know Iâm more than capable of stooping to that level too.â
You swallow. Of course he is. And heâs not threatening you, you know, not yet. He only reminds you, you think, of the previous times where he didnât play fair in way less serious situations, where even playful teasing ended up hurting you. Though naturally, it wounds him too to cause you pain. You donât want to force his hand.
âIâm sorry,â you say, then quickly add - albeit softer: âFor this, I mean.â
âOh, donât worry. I wouldnât get the wrong idea,â he chuckles. Before he frees your hand, he brings it to his lips to kiss just above the ring.
Yet he doesnât let you go. Instead of your hand, he now holds your waist. Itâs grounding, both his embrace and his proximity. Maybe this whole argument getting so severe could be avoided if you talked like this. You can dream.
âIt seems to me we wonât reach an agreement,â Ayato sighs.
âNo,â you admit as much as you donât wish to. Unresolved conflict only means repetition later on, in some form. âNot with the way things are.â
You let him wind his arm around your waist and bring you closer. You, too, embrace him, resting your head on his shoulder. The argument exhausted you.
âThen we both need to put in more work,â he hums, âAnd continue at a later time.â
Maybe. Itâs the only thing you can do, but that doesnât mean you have to like it. Perhaps you should go pray, there must be someone who could grant you both what you want without the other losing their chance. Heâd laugh if you suggested it, though.
âI hate how efficient you are,â you let go of your final grievance for the night, making him chuckle.
âYears of experience, darling,â he reminds you, âWith higher stakes - which of course doesnât mean Iâm calling our marriage insignificant.â
You only roll your eyes but nod. You know thatâs not his intention. Heâs right anyway, and to some extent youâre glad he can remain stable and unshakeable like this. Being able to always depend on him, thatâs one of the reasons you married him in the first place, after all.
âBut I must say,â he murmurs into your hair, âIâve never been threatened so violently before.â
You laugh and shake your head.
âNo sword, no polearm or a bow is as scary as seeing you without your ring, my dear,â he whispers, âBelieve it or not.â
Baizhu
âWhat are you doing?â his voice cuts through the air. Amber eyes staring at you, wide and afraid, eyebrows furrowed and his lips twisted downwards.
You hold the ring in your palm, your gaze dropping to the band like you need to make sure you really did that. But you did and now Baizhu is crossing the room to cradle your hands in his.Â
âWhat do you mean by this?â his chest is still heaving but at least his voice drops into something softer again.Â
âWe should stop,â you lick your lips, your attention is split between the warm ring and his cold hands, âWeâre just talking in circles.â
He takes a deep breath, lets it go again. His touch is so careful, even though he keeps distance between you. His gaze slowly seems to be warming up too the longer you silently stare at each other.
âLifeâs too fragile to keep fighting,â Baizhu murmurs. Tension still holds his body in its grip. At the same time he looks like he really wants to let go.Â
âBut this is really important to both of us,â you remind him, âOr weâd be better at making a compromise.â
He seems torn. Stuck between wanting to argue his point and dismissing the argument. Itâd be easier to pretend nothing happened, but the core of the issue would just loom over your heads. He doesnât come closer but his thumbs stroke the sides of your hands.Â
âWe shouldnât be together right now,â he sighs eventually. You nod. The pain in his eyes reflects your own.Â
âStay here,â he suggests, cautiously, âIâll go - but Iâll come back, okay?â
And so itâs agreed. You sit by the open window for the most part, taking deep breaths of the cool air in hopes itâll clear your mind - it does. What it doesnât do is magically give you a revelation as to what would be the perfect solution in this situation. Your anger ebbs and flows, even though itâs no longer directed primarily at your husband, more so at the circumstances.
And by the looks of it, Baizhu fares no better than you. He looks disheveled, as if he ran his hand through his hair the whole time he was out. Even his braid looks horrible, clearly having taken the most abuse.Â
Baizhu kneels next to your chair, easily intertwining your hands once more when you offer. With his other hand he reaches up to cup your face. Youâre tired, youâre angry and youâre sad. You let him touch you, leaning into the familiar comfort.
âIâm gonna take the couch today,â you inform him. Thereâs no malice in your voice, only the silent understanding passes between you - you both still need time.
âI should be the one-â
âLet me,â you shake your head. You push some of his hair away from his face. âYou take the bed and Iâll put the ring back on.â
He huffs, incredulous, before his lips settle on a softer smile.
âThatâs a strong bargaining chip, are you sure you want to use it this way?â his thumb strokes your cheek.
âMhm,â you give him a weak smile too, âYou already know Iâm yours.â
He nods. His eyes fall to your lips before he, sadly, looks away. Now itâs your turn to make him face you with a gentle touch to his jaw. Your lips meet slowly, first a hesitant brush, then they melt together like itâs the first time. Baizhu soaks up the contact, drinking the reassurance from your lips. You think you could be convinced to forget everything, if only for the night.
âWeâll figure this out,â he promises, then he adds after some hesitation: âTogether.â
And really, thatâs all youâre asking. So you let him take your hand and guide you to the bedroom. Then you let him slide the ring back onto your finger.
Dottore
The ring slips off your finger to the very last digit, as if giving you time to reconsider. Dottore watches the action intently. Nonetheless, his words only stop once heâs finished his sentence - that, too, as if it was your chance at redemption. Despite the mask shielding his eyes, you can feel his gaze on you and swallow heavily. As passionate as he was about presenting his arguments, the energy is gone now, turned into cold tension.Â
You hesitate, the ring still gingerly held between the fingers of your other hand. Dottore doesnât move, tense and silent, observing your next step. He doesnât say a word. And in the wordless face off, you understand - he would let you make this choice. He wonât say he wants you to stay and put the ring back on. Sometimes you have to do the work for both of you. Your ego is not more important than him.Â
It takes effort to make a step forward. The fists at his side clench but he makes no move to stop you, his silence remains deafeningly loud. You walk on until you stand before him and offer him your hand, ring dangling on the tip of your finger. The mask allows him a lot of anonymity. He tilts his head, the lower half of his face offers no hints as to whatâs going on inside his head.Â
âThat was very irrational,â you admit quietly, âA lapse of judgement.â
âWhat do you want me to do about it?â he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. You donât pull your hand back. âI have no use for an unwilling partner. I believe I made myself clear about only giving one chance.â
He waves you off, disinterested. Even so, he purposefully moves in a way that wonât remove the ring barely balanced at the tip of your finger.Â
âDid I catch you off guard, doctor?â you ask, âDo we have no further use for each other? Is that what this is about?â
Dottore bristles. Perhaps itâs pointless, as he warned you it is, to attempt to persuade him that a relationship can work even if the parties have no vital need for each other.
âI need you,â you whisper, little more than a breath, âWhy stall? If you had no need for me at all, you would take the ring back already.â
It might be a trick of the light, the moment it seems like he wants to say something. He doesnât. Instead, he grabs your hand rather roughly and shoves the ring back down your finger. He doesnât let go.
âSo stubborn,â he growls, âInefficient. If you just-âÂ
âYou donât need me for the experiment to progress,â you sigh, âWhy get upset with me beyond the way in which I wronged you?â
His grip tightens. His jaw is set, which is about all you can read in his face. From the tilt of his mask and his fingers lingering by the band now securely around your finger, however, you can guess where heâs looking.Â
âHave you never doubted your decision? I should be allowed to make the same mistake,â you reason. He scoffs.
âMistake?â he mocks, then he huffs, âPerhaps.â
He swipes his thumb over the ring. His own rest hidden inside his breastpocket for safety. Not that it matters - itâs more important that his claim on you is clear for all to see. Above all - for him, Dottore himself, to see. As if the intricacies binding you together were not enough.
âI should find a more permanent way of branding you,â he mutters. No attempt to hide it. No need for the mask either - now you know well thatâs looking at you, studying you.
You just smile.
Kaveh
You can barely see what youâre doing but you feel the empty space immediately, and perhaps more so the painful void inside your chest than the cold air on your finger.
The room goes deadly silent. Kaveh stares at you, speechless. His mouth opens and closes like fish out of water. A thousand different emotions flash across his face before they settle on anger.Â
âFine,â he scoffs, âFine, go on then!â
Heâs supposed to be furious. Why does he look like a cornered dog? Too scared to see through his fears. You blink and the anger turns into hurt, as if he wore nothing else on his face before. It breaks something inside of you. Heâs not fully sober, heâs not thinking rationally, the whole fight got blown out of proportion-
You jump when something lands somewhere in front of you and rolls away. His own ring.
âI wonât hold you back!â he keeps screaming even as he falls to his knees. He looks like he canât believe what heâs done, what he said. Your heart breaks but⌠this is just too much. And youâre in the wrong too, you have no right to be upset with him - you took off your ring first. But itâs too much.Â
So you ignore him when he starts crawling forward to look for his ring. And because youâre hurting and emotions are high, you drop your ring too. The search should entertain him for long enough that you both cool down, you could take a walk-Â
You donât get the chance. And maybe you shouldâve expected it.Â
âKavehâŚâ you sigh.Â
Looking down, you see exactly what you thought you would. It doesnât matter, your heart still clenches painfully. His eyes glisten with unshed moisture, his cheeks burn red. His face is twisted in agony, suffering which only you may free him from. Heâs holding onto your leg like a lifeline, clawing at your clothes to make you stay.Â
With another long exhale, your frustration dissipates into nothingness. Your hand falls to the top of his head, pushing his hair away from his face. He leans into your touch like a cat.
âIâm sorry,â he whispers, looking much more sober now, âIâm so sorry. Please donât go.â
Words would be pointless. Theyâre cheap and without substance Kaveh could latch onto. He rests his head against your thigh while you slowly keep combing your fingers through his hair.
âLetâs look for them together, hm?â you suggest eventually as you get down on the floor with him. He furiously nods his head.
Itâs easier than you thought itâd be, with the light catching on the metal and guiding you to the discarded bands like the stars guide ships at the sea. Even so, Kaveh keeps looking your way as if still scared youâll leave. The fear remains despite both rings resting in his palm, it lingers after you put them back on with shaky hands. Not long after you find yourself looking up at the ceiling.
âPlease donât leave,â Kaveh mumbles into the crook of your neck, lying on top of you after tackling you to the ground, âIâm sorry, Iâm-â
âIâm sorry too,â you stop him from the inevitable self-depreciating rant. You hold him closer. âLetâs talk about it again after we get some sleep.â
Itâs so easy to get him to agree. He always insisted that the bed you share is his only safe space, a sacred space he never brings work to. He sinks into the mattress with you, more like a snake than you ever imagined was possible for a human being. Sleep evades you. Kaveh holds you so tight itâs hard to breathe. You canât say you mind, though.
Pantalone
The world narrows down to this moment - his office, his biting remarks, your voice hoarse after hours of this. Nothing else exists. Nothing beyond this room. And then Pantalone says another hurtful thing and youâve just about had it. The ring tries to stick to your finger, truly it does. But youâre stubborn.
And then the click of safety being dislodged, the pull of a trigger - not enough to make the gun aimed in your direction shoot but close - rings through the room in the sudden deep silence.
You freeze, staring at him not quite in disbelief, but in cold clarity of what happened, the whole sequence of events. His usual mask is already back in place.
âNow now, be careful with that ring,â he says smiling. That calm, deceptive smile that fools nobody that ever made the mistake at displeasing him. Your palms start to sweat, goosebumps rise over your body. You think your body starts trembling. âIt might be your only chance at survival should you leave, to sell it.â
Pantalone comes closer, quiet, slow strides. His hand cups your jaw to tilt your face towards him, holding you in place. Apparently, he needs to work on his temper and you need to work on your survival instinct.
âNo pawnshop will buy it,â you argue. Because what else are you supposed to do than submit to him fully, to admit his full control over your life. You messed up, and Feofan is not a man easily placated. âAnd anyone foolish enough to want to buy it wonât have enough mora to do so.â
He smiles, looking almost proud as he leans closer to you. âAnd why is that?â
âBecause only the smart survive, get rich and stay in business,â you answer, âAnd because theyâre smart, theyâll recognize the ring. And theyâll know that youâd come for it. And that youâd make sure the word doesnât get out and that thereâs no witness.â
Pantalone looks most pleased, closing the distance between you to rub your noses together.
âVery good,â he murmurs, âSo how about you make sure the ring is safe on your finger, hm?â
You donât acknowledge the threat to you. That was only to be expected. You wounded him, or at least upset him, destabilized a favourable situation that is your relationship; naturally heâd lash out. You know better than most. The ring feels heavy on your finger. Less like a ball and chain locked around your ankle, more like a heavy winter coat around your shoulder.
Feofan can be incredibly sweet and attentive to those he cares for. He is. Unless given a reason not to be.
âThere we go,â he whispers. Some of his smile is genuine, which is a relief.
Heâs about to pull away but youâre quicker. It doesnât matter much, whether he stays or not is entirely up to him. For a moment you donât think he will, considering how coldly he regards your hand tugging on his sleeve. Then he indulges you, allowing you to even put his hands on your waist.
âI hurt you with my words,â he states, licking his lips. The haze of the argument mustâve left his mind. âI apologize.â
âI also apologize,â you sigh, âI shouldnât have done that. You know how to be incredibly infuriating and I never know how to stop you and then act out of line.â
He chuckles, kissing the top of your head. âYet youâre forgiven. A benevolent lover, am I not?â
You agree, with reluctance that remains privy only to you. Feofan knows how to be very benevolent, yet unapologetically cruel at the same time. You, at least, are protected by his fondness for you. Still you think youâd rather pamper him for a while, to make him forget your mistake.
Zhongli
Youâd maybe prefer if Zhongli showed his emotions more. Youâd perhaps appreciate more if he looked as worked up as you. This is going nowhere and itâs frustrating, heâs frustrating-
âDo it and youâll have to face punishment,â he says, sternly, impatiently. Exactly the way you hoped heâd talk ever since your blood started boiling. Yet now you completely disregard his tone for sake of what heâs saying, or rather - those words with that tone make you forget what you were doing in the first place.Â
He closes the distance between you swiftly and you all but shiver when he takes your hand into his. However, his mood changes rapidly the moment his fingers brush the ring halfway down your finger. Zhongliâs very good at hiding his emotions, but when he lets them show, theyâre painfully clear. And now the remorse consumes him completely.
âI didnât mean to upset you so,â he murmurs, stroking over the ring now safely in its usual place, âI apologize.â
You take a deep breath, exhale slowly. He means it, of course he does, sometimes your tempers just donât match well.Â
âIâm sorry too,â you mumble, then you swallow, âWhat did you mean earlier though, by the punishmentâŚ?â
You know better than to genuinely think Zhongli was suggesting what your body clearly seems to think, or maybe even hope for.Â
âWe signed the certificates,â he says, slowly, almost carefully, the tone you know well because thatâs how he always says what heâs half-certain might be upsetting to you without fully comprehending why, âMarriage is basically a contr-â
âZhongli, I swear, if you call our marriage a contract I am resigning from it,â you sigh. Exhausted by the revelation so much that you canât even get mad, let alone think about what you were fighting about in the first place, you let your forehead fall against his shoulder. He freezes for a moment in a silent contemplation.Â
âI donât think of our relationship as a contractual obligation-â
âZhongli, I know you think thatâs comforting but please be quiet,â you stop him before he can get the rest of the explanation out.
âI love you,â he chuckles, settling for the safe option.
âI love you too,â you accept, a small smile blooming on your lips, âBut donât ever call our marriage that.â
He nods against your head, his arms wrapping around your waist. He holds you closer, rubbing circles into the small of your back. How easily does he undo you with his words - how easily you undo a god. With nothing but a simple mistake in the heights of emotion.
âI wasnât planning to leave,â you mumble into his shoulder, âI was just so frustrated.â
He makes a small noise of acknowledgement. The longer he holds you, the more you feel like youâve both calmed down. The golden light of the late afternoon casts a warm glow around the room.
âI donât want you to leave,â he says, slowly, as if each word was hard to spell out, âI donât like the idea of you leaving⌠our home, and me.â
His hand finds yours, squeezing, tracing the ring again. You have to appreciate he made the effort to not say breaking the contract. You reward him with a chaste kiss to his cheek.
âI donât plan to,â you pull away enough to meet his eyes, âWe swore until death do us apart, didnât we? Iâm keeping that promise.â
Zhongli cups your face, his thumb strokes your cheek. You close your eyes when he leans in. The kiss is enough, the tenderness of his touch. The god of contracts made his vow to you, he wouldnât dream of breaking it.
