#Il dottore x you

[screamingcrows]

Welcome to Zandicktober's masterlist and slight information! I'll be adding links to every drabble and the polls as they're posted. A link to this post has been added to my main masterlist!

Again; keep in mind that while some of these have suggestive themes and are various degrees of explicit, they will not all be pleasantly framed. This is an event about putting a fictional guy in Situations™️, some of them will be uncomfortable.

I will do my very best to add all relevant warnings on individual posts as 'cw thing' and 'nsfw' or 'dark content' on this list as I add entries. Day 14 has reader described with breasts, otherwise neutral. Please block #zandicktober if you want to avoid my daily posting. Masterlist under the cut

Do the titles say anything about the content? You'll know soon enough.

Thirty minutes

Dignity

Light

A new person

Drops

Predator

Poll One

Solutions

Fall

Take a chance

Unnecessary expenses

Predicament

Study break

Poll Two

Lingering

Hush

Science rizz

Experiment

Coarse and gets everywhere

Lotus

Poll Three

Nectar

Tinkering

Field trip

Peep

Mutual interest

History

Poll Four

Ideas

Enough

Surprise!

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ When someone tries to imitate you or take your place 

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone 

(tw: general mentions of violence and intimacy, swf. Old ask suggested by the lovely @pandaquick, better late than never)

Your position in the Fatui is a much more personal and delicate matter. You are not just some high-rank advisor or soldier idling within the Zapolyarny Palace, nor can you be defined as another Fatuus. You are someone of a different echelon - a Harbinger’s beloved, safeguarded with the utmost honor conferred by Her Majesty the Tsaritsa. It is no secret your significant other would utilize a whole army to protect you, but what happens when someone, in their foolishness, forgets that?

✧ Pierro was the first to notice that someone tried to imitate you. An individual of high status endeavored to emulate your work and areas of expertise. Subsequently, this individual began to adopt aspects of your appearance, from hairstyle to clothing. However, the breaking point occurred when this foolish person attempted to purchase an identical jewelry brooch to the one you frequently wore. It was a similar piece, one gifted to you by Pierro.

Except that imitator missed one important clue - Pierro orders you custom-made silver adorned with deep-cut sapphires that would put the Tsaritsa’s crown into shame. A one of a kind piece.

This cheap attempt to imitate you and usurp your spot was what forced The Jester to abandon his silent observation. His gaze has long caught the envious glances directed towards you whenever you accompanied him on meetings, whenever he linked his arm with yours, whenever he generously kneeled beside you to put his coat over your shoulder and keep you warm from Snezhnaya’s cold - the same individual, always seething with resentment. Thus, it was time for the Director to silently act. 

He kept tabs on this person via a network of spies, gathering intel on their behavior and intentions. And with the most skilled spies raised from the House of the Hearth, it didn't take long to have a whole pile of evidence right on his desk. And with the simple snap of his fingers, he effortlessly orchestrated the apprehension and subsequent banishment of the culprit, sparing no unnecessary words. Hearsay will not be tolerated in the Fatui, but to see some lowly scum tarnish your reputation by cheap mimicry then it’ll be his responsibility to weed out. 

“Pierro, dearest, What's wrong? You seem so deep in thought.” - Your gentle murmur broke The Jester's train of thought. As he lay in bed, your head resting on his chest and his arm draped over you, he reminded himself that he was in the comfort of your love. He doesn't have to mull over the bloodied ordinances when he feels the warmth of your skin underneath the covers.

“Apologize, my divine. It seems my mind was drifting to troubling thoughts. But it no longer matters when you're here.” - Thus, he gently planted a kiss on your forehead and tucked the covers around your body which harbored marks of his devotion earlier that night.

✧ Il Capitano clutched the hilt of his sword in resolution. Something was wrong and he could see it. The Harbinger was in the middle of his morning spar with you, a regular training session where you and the Captain warm up as a routine. He stood in a defensive stance, his movements fluid yet measured as his sword received blow after blow from your weapon. You, on the other hand, moved like a silent tempest, your strikes precise yet frustratingly urgent.

It was unlike you to be so unsteady, noted Capitano to himself, especially when fighting. Despite the unspoken patience, an undercurrent of concealed despondency and anger laced your body language. 

“Alright, my dear, I can feel your unease. What troubles your heart?” 

You shook your head, panting as you almost faltered. You insisted on continuing the training session, but it was clear your brave facade was almost crumbling. 

“It would be foolish to continue. And I care about your well-being. Please, confide in me, my beloved.”

You tried, you really did. But before you know it, your lips pursed into a thin line and a flood of tears escaped the moment you shakily lowered your weapon. Now the Captain was on full alert, rushing towards you and gently supporting you before you could hide your tearful face in shame. With an arm around your trembling form and much persuasion - you relented and shared the source of your frustration. A newly enlisted soldier had undergone thorough training under the tutelage of Il Capitano, and their impressive advancement was unmistakably evident in their unwavering dedication. However, this individual began to devote more time to the Captain, delving into military intelligence and climbing the ranks. You genuinely felt joy for the new recruit, truly. Yet in timid humiliation, you had to confess you felt obsolete as if your power alone wasn’t enough for a harbinger of his caliber and ranks.

“Ah, my dear, you are far from weak. My time with the trainees is merely a duty, a part of my job as the 1st Harbinger. But when it comes to you, my dear, your might and wisdom are incomparable. You don’t deserve my ranks, you deserve my life laid before you.”

But whatever gentle words of affection were coming out of the Captain, your next words of truth made him halt at once. “... At least, that’s what the recruit told me when we spoke. That I'm weak.” 

“...What did you say?” 

The gentle armored hand on your shoulder now tightened in restrained anger, fury flaring within his chest. Capitano now understood: your tears, your sudden insecurity, your doubt, your silence… It wasn’t coincidental. This recruit who was so conveniently rising in the ranks made sure to aim not just for the Harbinger. Specifically, you; to sow self-doubt onto you and hinder your precious relationship. Someone was deliberately bullying you.

You looked up at Capitano’s dreadful silence, asking him what was wrong.

“It… seems, my dear, someone has crossed an unforgivable line. One that would cost them their life dearly. And I am to blame for not noticing when harm and doubt came your way. I must amend this transgression for your forgiveness.”

You blinked in response, not having time to comprehend the severity of his words; It’s hard to respond when your beloved suddenly kneels and bows like a knight on duty. In the end, Capitano ushered you to take a day off and let your mind rest easy.

The next day, Capitano returned home early but was eerily silent once more. He stayed with you the whole day, like a hawk overlooking his nest, his arms crossed but his touch gentle. Although he claimed nothing was wrong, you received news that certain recruits were gone, and any upcoming soldiers that would come into his care would receive even stricter training from now on. That day, you wondered why some Fatui soldiers feared talking to you. Not to mention the armor around Capitano’s knuckles seemed faintly red-tinted.

The Fatui organization was a constant battle of powers and ranks. But to climb the ladder and meddle with the life of The Captain was a personal offense, one that would result in quick and unapologetic bloodshed. Nevertheless, he made sure to remind his soldiers about that. 

✧ When one of the folks working under Il Dottore as a lab analyst approached you, you didn’t expect them to call you names so suddenly. You stood there, confused and apprehensive at the sudden barrage of insults from the stranger. But they explained:

“You don’t do anything when helping during research, you know! I don’t even know how The 2nd tolerates you when you’re this useless. I’ll tell you what, quit your special-treatment act, and don’t come back to the lab. The Doctor is better off with someone of his level of intellect.”

You didn’t fight or defend yourself, you didn’t even insult the assistant. Instead, you smiled simply  - “Very well, I won’t. Good luck.”

That day, you turned and left. The frustrated lab analyst was left in confusion but thought they succeeded in eliminating the only obstacle left to get closer to the elusive yet powerful Harbinger. After all, what the hell do you even do at his lab? You exchange a few words with Dottore, maybe sporadically point at what to do, and remain seated in the back, resting as if you were the Tsaritsa herself. The audacity. How come Il Dottore never kicked you out?

Well, it didn't take long for this person to find out.

The next day, naturally, Dottore couldn’t find you when he proceeded with work. You were neither at his study, nor at the lab, nor at your favorite corner of the library. It was barely noon, and receiving your warm greetings was his routine. And the Doctor always follows the agenda.

“Where are they?” 

His question was brief but pointed, and his subordinates knew exactly who he was referring to. They could sense the tension in his voice. The only individual privy to the reason for your absence smirked smugly and responded.

“Hmph. It seems they decided not to come, Lord Harbinger Dottore.”

That was their first mistake because The Doctor caught on to the haughty smirk coming from his new analyst.

“And you know so certainly how?” - he quickly gestured to a nearby Fatui servant with a flick of his wrist. “Send in servants to check in on my behalf. I wasn’t informed. If my darling is feeling tired or unwell, bring their preferred refreshment immediately, and ensure it is warm.”

However, this displeased the new lab assistant, as even while you were away, Dottore was still dotting on you as if it was his second nature to do so while he was busy with work. Thus, they cleared their throat and spoke up:

“They… barely accomplished anything in your presence, doctor. So I advised them to leave, to which they agreed. Pretty straightforward, s-sir.” 

“Oh? Did you, now” - A burning rage, like never before, flared up within Il Dottore. With clenched teeth and a rigid jaw, his voice oozed with venom. But any seasoned lackey working under Dottore knew that this was the calm before the storm. Because soon, an echo of shattering vials and slammed objects would ring out from the laboratory. And in your absence, nothing would prevent the doctor from showing a bit of despotism. 

Much later that evening, after everything was set and done, the servants informed him of your whereabouts. Il Dottore briskly made his way through the Zapolyarny Palace to find you. Spotting you tucked away in a secluded nook of the palace, he hastened over, anxious to ensure your well-being, fearing you might’ve withdrawn due to the influence of some blabbering lowlife. 

“Dear! There you are… No one has the right to speak to you like that ever. Are you alright? My dearest, why did you not tell me immediately?! I would’ve-”

Dottore’s frustrated rambles come to a halt when you place a finger on his lips to shush him. You didn’t look despaired, in fact, you looked calm - “Zandik? Did you have another tantrum in your lab while I was absent?”

The doctor gulped, remembering his place. Calming his senses, he placed his hands on your waist and ushered you closer to his arms.

“... Perhaps. But I had to. How could I be certain that no one had harmed you? Why did you comply with that impudent fool? You should’ve gone to me first.”

“Well, it was unpleasant to hear the insults, sure. But…" - you glanced apologetically and a knowing smile returned to your lips. "I knew you'd find out and deal with the issue very quickly." 

✧ You and Pantalone were an odd couple. You didn't hail from a rich background, nor were you well-versed in the art of business and finance. You were more proficient in adventuring, your travels taking you to all sorts of journeys and commissions, a polar opposite from your beloved Pantalone. This led to raised eyebrows among the aristocrats of Snezhnaya. How can the richest man of Teyvat, who lives and works in prestige, be associated with such a simple person as you? For some, this gave the impression that they had a better chance of winning him over.

Thus, once upon a night, Pantalone was invited to a luxurious soirée. Here he was, clad in his finest suit, silver rings complementing his equally expensive optics. But to the Regrator, the jewelry adorning him was the least of his concerns - because you were the most precious gem in this gala. You accompanied him, although reluctantly, feeling out of place amidst the grand assembly of extravagant guests and the languid orchestra.

“Pantalone, do we have to…? I know you said this is not a business party, but there are so many guests already lining up to talk to you.” 

“Oh do not fret, my sweet. Evening galas like these are where the real negotiation and connections entail. But I know the details bore you, so I promise we won't stick here for too long. Besides, I get to introduce you as my one and only!”

That's exactly what you were afraid of. As a company of some esteemed noble ladies adorning elegant gowns, you had difficulties matching Pantalone’s polite smile. Overwhelmed by the scrutinizing gazes of some guests, you politely excused yourself to the bathroom. Pantalone was concerned, thinking of following you, but that was exactly what the guests wanted. 

You spent a long while by the hallway alone, trying to stabilize your breathing. The muttering of guests enjoying drinks and strolling was faint, but you could hear some people nearby:

“How can the 9th be with someone like them…? Surely it’s a joke.”

“A charming, rich man like him, and he can have anyone he desires. Yet he wastes his time on a simpleton?”

“Someone was definitely in it for the Mora, maybe he hasn’t seen real class. Quick, let’s go talk to him while he is alone.”

You stood with your back to a wall, and for the first time, uncertainty crept in. With fists clenched by your side, you reprimanded yourself that you are not alone. You came here with your significant other - and he, above all else, knows that gossip has no place in your shared private life. Hence, gathering up your courage, you raise your head high and strode back into the gala.

Pantalone, unfortunately yet expectedly, was surrounded by the same foul-mouthed nobles who wished to impress him. They prattled on about his financial success, while ladies fanned their folding fans and stood too close for his comfort. While they humored him, The Regrator cast hurried glances around the gala in search of you. Where are you?

“Lord Harbinger, may we offer you more champagne? I am sure this expensive bottle is up to your taste.”

The 9th attempted to hide his frown at the woman's tone, his stomach unwilling to ingest any drink some excessively elaborate name. “No thank you, I’d rather decline. I am waiting for my dear. I promised her a dance later this evening.”

“Oh, please sir, I insist. The night is young and there is plenty more for-” 

Before the woman could continue, your voice cut through the air; calm, yet unmistakably firm. “He said no. Simple enough to understand.”  

A hush fell over the gathered guests, the weight of your words settling like a sudden gust. Only Pantalone beamed with a genuine smile. “Ah, dear! There you are,”. The Harbinger was about to step back towards you, when the same lady suddenly blocked his path, her back facing him while her tone edged with defiance.

“I beg your pardon, but I’m afraid the question is directed towards Lord Harbinger Pantalone. I am sure you wouldn't know the pleasure of tasting a 500,000 Mora champagne from Fontaine.”

You recognized the snark in her tone directed towards you, and you couldn’t deny the anxiety twisting in your gut as eyes narrowed in your direction. However, with a shake of your head, you reminded yourself who you truly are and simply said: “Sheesh, lady, you spend that much on a drink that tastes worse than sparkling water? To each their own, I presume”

Her smile vanished. The guests stared in stunned silence, but it was Pantalone’s genuine laughter that pierced the tension. The sound was rich and real—because only he knew how adept you were at humbling an overconfident aristocrat with a dose of blunt truth. That’s how Pantalone managed to push through the crowd and circle his arm back around your waist, leaving the astonished onlookers behind.

“Ah dear, you’re a savior. I apologize I dragged us into this unpleasant company…” - he confined to you apologetically as you two walked away. “You always knew how to be sincere in your honest way.”

“It’s not like I meant to pick up a fight…" - you sighed. "I simply couldn't bear the humiliation, Pantalone. I'm aware that some people give me strange looks when I'm with you. They regard me as if I'm some peasant standing next to a powerful Fatui harbinger. That I'm nothing. That's why I couldn’t just hide, I had to step up to defend myself.”

“Oh, darling… My sweet, precious darling.” - The two of you left the manor that hosted the soiree, the chill night breeze muting the faint sound of guests and replacing it with a symphony of cricket noise from the garden nearby. Pantalone's fingers intertwined with yours.

"You are not just 'nothing' - you're my everything. You did not come from riches, and neither did I. You of all people know that. Would I really hold respect for some rich fool who didn't know an ounce of hardship when Mora was all they had since birth? No, dear, I wouldn't."

With a tender hand, he rested his palm on your waist, gently guiding you along the cobblestone path as if leading you into a slow waltz by garden roses in the night.

"Besides, you should never be ashamed to seek out my help. Although I must admit... Your tone earlier - oh my. Use it on me more often, darling. I wouldn't mind." 

[aluraveil]

The Earring

TW: Use of a tracker, unhealthy relationships, yandere, the doctor himself, etc.

Pairing: Yandere Dottore x Reader

-

Dottore only wears one earring.

Many people have noticed that the mad doctor is missing one on his other ear. Dottore used to have a pair, but now one of them has gone missing. His fellow harbingers have noticed, but frankly they didn’t care enough to inquire about it.

Fatui agents under his command have seen it too. Nobody dared to inquire about it. Like they’ve always said, curiosity kills the cat. Except in this case, it literally means exactly that. Who knows what the harbinger might say if someone who clearly didn’t know their place asked about it? What punishment would they receive? And for that reason, that is why nobody has ever said anything about it.

The truth is, Dottore wears one earring on purpose. Where might the other earring be? Well it’s on your ear of course.

Dottore has thought of the ways to mark his ownership on you for the longest time. With each idea flowing in his head being worser than the other, he wanted to give up. But the sheer idea of other people eying his darling down makes his blood boil.

He knew that he needed a way to show everyone else that you belonged to him. But what could he even do?

The Doctor has seen how the other harbingers have marked their own darling with costly items.

The Doctor knew of the ways how the Regrator would mark his pet with materialistic items such as expensive jewelery and clothing.

But he didn’t want to follow the same approach when marking his own pet. He wanted to be different, he wanted to stand out. He didn’t want to do the same boring thing as the other harbingers.

Dottore would always insist that you wear your part. You’re hesitant to do so, but you didn’t want to disobey him.

The purpose of the earring was for marking you and tying you do as his. But there was also another part to it. The earring symbolized that Dottore would always be apart of you no matter where you went. Also, if you were to take a hammer and smash the earring open, you’d find a shocking discovery with it.

A tracker. One that could be used to know your exact location at all times.

You vaguely remember walking down the halls of the palace with the doctor arm in arm. Fatui agents would stare when they notice what’s on your ear. The other missing earring?

You personally thought the both of you looked stupid sharing an earring. But as long as the doctor wasn’t angry, then you were happy.

The fatui agents have wondered where the Doctor’s other earring could be. But when they found it on your ear, it all made sense.

Dottore only wears one earring. The other however, is used to mark you.

[kamocore]

The Doctor's Little Assistant.

ft. dottore !

sypnosis ; dottore rewards you for your hard efforts.

warnings ; top ! dottore , dottore is a warning himself , face fucking , power dynamics , boss n assistant relationships , degradation , slight praise , facials , light face slapping , lowkey rushed no bullying :'3

wc ; 1.6k. enjoy !!

Dottore's personal assistant. 

You're the only one allowed inside his lab, outside of his clones and his disgusting little lab-rats of course. You're one of the only ones he actually tolerates. You're always so good for him, tidying up his mess of an office when he doesn't ask and always bringing him extra coffee when you know he's running low on it.

He's almost certain he's not gonna kill you off like the others, he likes you.

He likes the way you immediately oblige like you even had a choice when he asks to experiment on you. "I'd be happy to, my lord." You say, giving him a smile and a nod. He knows that you're scared beneath your little act, he can just sense it, and he loves it. He gets off on your pain and fear, and he finds it amusing when you try to hold back your wails of pain. 

Dottore especially loves when you start to let tears run down your face because of how much it hurts. You're left trembling, sniffling every couple seconds as he unstraps you from the vivisection table, but you would be lying if you said there wasn't a part of you that secretly enjoys it. He's a sick and twisted sadist, and you like it.

He thinks you're so pretty with your tear stained face and ruined makeup. He just shakes his head when you complain about it as if you weren't the one crying.

Maybe if you had let him remove your tear glands and ducts it wouldn't be an issue.

Dottore brings you to the fatui meetings too, he knows it's not allowed but he could care less. when Pierro reminds him that, "Anyone who isn't apart of the ranks, is strictly not allowed into the meetings." Dottore ignores him, and he keeps you right by his side, and when he can see your legs getting tired, he orders you to sit on his lap. He doesn't care when you get embarrassed, and he certainly doesn't care that his co-workers look at you two either, his sadistic smile only grows larger.

"You've been a very obedient girl as of recent, haven't you." It was an observation, but you still nod your head as if he just asked you a question while you try to avoid looking at his face. "Stupid little thing. Look at me when I talk to you." Dottore growls. He grabs your jaw with a vice like grip to make you look up at him and even though you can't see his eyes, you can still feel them on you. It feels like all the air has been knocked out of your lungs and you're quick to mutter out an apology. "Of course, my lord.. 'm sorry." 

"Good girl." He praises as he pulls his gloved hand away from your jaw. "I'd say an award is in order, hm?" He says as he starts walking over to a swivel chair that's behind you. You want to follow him but in fear of being disobedient, you stay frozen in place. As he sits down, he calls out your name and you're quick to turn around to face him. 

"Crawl to me."

You stand there for a moment, processing his words, feeling the heat slowly creeping into your cheeks. "Yes, my lord," you manage to spit out. Despite the embarrassment, you comply, dropping to your knees and then shifting onto all fours, moving toward him as instructed. Each movement is deliberate, the anticipation building with every inch closer to him. Finally, you find yourself between his legs, facing him on your knees, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you settle between Dottore's legs, your heart begins to race due to anticipation. You can feel his gaze piercing through you and it sends shivers down your entire body as you wait for his next command.

Dottore smirks, relishing in the control he holds over you. "Always so good," he murmurs, his voice laced with dark amusement. "You know exactly how to please me." You lower your gaze, feeling the weight of his words like chains around your neck. "Thank you, my lord," you mumble obediently, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk only widens as he looks down at you, reveling in the power he holds. His gloved hand reaches out, fingers curling under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The leather feels cold and unyielding against your skin. "You look good on your knees," he muses, his tone dripping with sadistic undertones. "Maybe I should make you my desk pet."

You whine and swallow hard at the suggestion, feeling a mix of fear and excitement coil in your belly. "Please," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly and truthfully you don't even know what you're asking for. The way he looks down upon you, like he knows you're inferior to him, sends shivers down your spine.

He releases your chin and leans back in his chair, spreading his legs slightly to give you more room. "You know what to do," he commands, his voice cold and demanding. "Show me how compliant you really are, love."

Oh fuck.

The pet name almost kills you and it makes your breath hitch. You nod anyway, reaching up with shaky hands to unbuckle his belt. You can feel Dottore watching you as you do so and you can feel your face burning with embarrassment. But you push through, determined to please him.

As you pull down his trousers, you're met with the sight of his cock straining against his boxers. it sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you can't let out a soft moan at the sight. Dottore's chuckle is low and menacing, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. "Come on," he urges, his voice low and almost taunting. "You know better than to keep me waiting."

You comply and pulling down his boxers, freeing his cock and you can't take your eyes off of it. You lean in, pressing a tentative kiss to the tip and licking a long stripe up the side. Dottore's grip on your hair tightens, and he lets out a breath of approval. "Good girl," he murmurs. "Now take me in your mouth,"

You comply almost instantly. You open your mouth, taking his cock in slowly with your tongue swirling around the tip. Him in general but especially the taste of him is intoxicating, and you can feel the heat between your legs growing with each passing second. You hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, and his low groan of pleasure spurs you on.

Dottore's other hand joins the first, holding your head steady as you bob up and down. "Such a whore," he degrades, his voice laced with arousal. "You take me so well. You were made for this, weren't you?"

You moan around his cock, the vibrations making him hiss. His voice and his words a thrill through you, and you try taking him deeper into your mouth, wanting nothing more than to please him. Your pace quickens, your movements becoming more desperate as you lose yourself in the task.

Dottore's grip tightens painfully, and he thrusts his hips up, forcing himself deeper into your throat. "This is what you wanted, hm." He says, and though it was a statement, you still try to nod your head stupidly. In the process you gag, tears springing to your eyes, but you don't stop and neither does he. "That's right, gag on it." His groans grow louder, his breathing becoming more ragged. "You're so pathetic."

Your eyes water as you look up at him, the tears only serving to heighten his pleasure as he loves to see you cry. He smirks down at you, his thumb brushing away a tear that escapes down your cheek. "Pretty little thing.." He murmurs. "Take it, take it deeper."

He holds you there for a moment longer before finally releasing your head. You pull back, gasping for air, your lips swollen and wet with saliva. His chest is heaving up and down while you wrap your hands around the length of his cock. "I'm gonna cum," he groans, "Gonna paint your pretty face."

 Dottore pries your hands away from his cock and begins to stroke himself. You whine at the sight in front of you. "Please," you breathe out. He scoffs in amusement before slapping the tip of his cock on your cheek. "Open your mouth."

You instantly obey, looking up at him and sticking your tongue out. You're gross and messy right now but you know he likes seeing you ruined, especially if he's the cause. You're watching him stroke his cock from above you, pressing his thumb to the swollen and leaking tip. 

Your needy whines must've been just what Dottore needed to drive him over the edge. He groans as he reaches his climax and his free hand reaches for your jaw with a tight grip to hold you in place. Thick ropes of cum soon cover not only your chest, but your face and tongue as well. You keep your mouth open in an attempt and in hope to catch more of his cum on your tongue.

As soon as he comes down from his high, his hand comes down to slap your cheek and command you to swallow the bits that landed in your mouth. You oblige. He takes one more good look at you before tucking himself back into his boxers and pulling his pants up. "Clean yourself up." He spits coldly, and you nod. "Yes, my lord."

"When you're done, there's some paperwork I need you to get from The Regrator's office. Once you get it, bring it back here and I'll reward you once more."

[catscidr]

// what's the difference between scotch and whisky anyways //

i. note — /edit/ i said i would fix the formatting later and Now is later hi hellooo. sorry for not posting, i suddenly couldnt bring myself to write for more than five minutes at a time lmaoa ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) but i hope the dottore enjoyers like this at the very least. rn im working on chapter 3 of fbbts and a darker, separate dottore/reader one shot and a couple of jjk fics if anyone would even be interested in reading them lol. but in the meantime, here's drunken shenanigans ft everyone's favorite war criminal ii. includes — dottore x gn!reader, webttore (beta) and omega cameos. various mentioned harbingers iii. cw — fluff, crack sorta, alcohol stuff, dottore is ooc because he's Not Sober, everyone is clingy. fun stuff yk iv. wc — 3,5k -> ao3 link

It’s a popular stereotype that Snezhnayans are heavy drinkers, but the fact lies within the fatui. They’re shameless; whether it’s showing up to work inebriated or drinking on the job, they’ll hold onto the ‘snezhnayans have a high alcohol tolerance’ stereotype with clenched fists and a bottle at their lips. 

However, that fact only applies to the lackeys—agents that are stationed for hours on end without a break, agents that, at times, need liquid courage to face the horrors that come with the job. The Harbingers are an entirely different case. 

They balance each other, in a way. Where Tartaglia can down three shots of fire water and come out virtually unscathed, Damselette would rather not be caught within a hundred meters of a drop of alcohol. Where The Knave occasionally enjoys a glass of wine in her office, The Balladeer sneers at the choice of drink. 

None came together to go out for drinks, if not because of their job taking up a lot of time out of their days. No, none of the Harbingers were really close enough to let themselves be seen so vulnerable, if one dared drink themselves to the point of being unable to walk in a straight line. 

Thus, there had only been rumors circulating the halls of Zapolyarny palace. Hushed speculations spoken between coworkers, told with an air of excitement. No one has ever seen their Lords in a state other than wholly glorious, so it’s only human nature to wonder just what they would be like if their dignity were knocked down a peg—how they would be if they indulged in simple human vices. 

There are two kinds of Harbingers; ones that lack any rumors about their drinking habits, and ones that are so intriguing that if you were to strike up a conversation with a fatui agent, you would start theorizing about what kind of drunk they’re like before saying hello. Tartaglia and The Knave are part of the former, along with The Rooster and The Fair Lady. The latter consists of (unsurprisingly) The Balladeer, our sweet Damselette, and the two big shots at the top. 

Rumors of The Captain’s drinking habits are usually quite short-lived. People either have too much respect for him to speculate about something as childish as how he acts when he’s had too much to drink, or fear him too much to risk spreading rumors. 

But regarding The Doctor... 

It’s no secret that, even if he is eccentric and has a penchant for unconventional research methods, he has quite the loyal following. Agents will rally to defend him if they hear anyone slandering him, insisting that he’s reasonable and logical. ‘If you simply do your job, you have nothing to worry about’ is what they’d say. 

Although he’s amassed his fair share of fans within the fatui, they’re unlike The Captain’s loyal following; The Doctor’s subordinates are the first to whisper theories about their boss’ drinking habits. He’s only part human now, so maybe alcohol doesn’t affect him the way it does normal people like Tartaglia. Oh, but he seems the type to need to unwind occasionally, so maybe he has a secret stash of wine somewhere in his office? What if, in his free time, he creates various concoctions and cocktails to drink? 

Seeing as he understands science deeper than anyone else, mixology should be a walk in the park for a scientist as lucrative as him. 

Wrong. 

“Shouldn’t you be working?” 

The glare sent your way is nothing short of vicious. There stood in front of you one of his segments, the one with the infamous short fuse. “Why are you here?” 

You internalize the sigh you want to let out, deciding against making him mad when it seems he can’t even stand straight for longer than a few seconds. 

“Lord Pantalone dismissed me early.” You strategically omit why he let you go in the first place. “Where’s Prime?” 

As per anything retaining to Il Dottore, your relationship was unconventional at best. The term closest to what you were, if you wanted to describe said relationship, would be lovers—but... not quite? Still. Neither you nor Dottore cared enough to put a clear label on it, so you’ve resorted to letting people speculate— it can be quite entertaining to listen to people guess while being loud and wrong, anyways. 

You used to work under him as one of his many researchers. When you both started taking your relationship seriously, he threw in the idea of promoting you to being his personal assistant; that way he could (give you special treatment) have someone more competent than his last assistant take care of “menial tasks” like his tedious paperwork. 

You refused the generous offer, insisting that it would be unprofessional to work under him as his partner. After many late-night discussions (and stubborn headbutting of differing opinions) you both have come to an agreement in which you would work for Lord Pantalone as a financial planner. 

(You finally managed to convince him by bringing up how you could, hypothetically, pull some strings on your end in his favor—that you could persuade Pantalone to allot more funding for his research. If he had any shame left, it would have been embarrassing how quickly he shook your hand to accept your conditions.) 

Now, while you spent most of your time in an office in The Regrator’s office building near the Palace, you occasionally came by to drop off documents. Of course, you would use your short trips as an excuse to go see Dottore (even if you could do so at any time anyways, given how much authority he had.) 

However, sometimes you just want to work. 

You’ll leave the comfort of your cubicle to go see him and the extensions of himself, sure, but you still had a job to do. Papers piled up, clients grew impatient, and even your boss wasn’t immune to their nasty attitude whenever he held a meeting with a particularly irritating client. Thus, sometimes you wished you could truly focus, lose track of time and work until your wrist forced you to take a break. 

This wouldn't happen today, clearly. Seeing as one of Dottore’s lackeys rushed to your office to bring you to the Haeresys, you most likely won’t be seeing your desk until further notice. 

Now you were stuck with a cryptic Beta, trying your best to use what little knowledge about the clones’ machinery you managed to wring out of your stubborn lover. 

“Where’s Prime?” You run a hand over your wrinkled coat sleeve, keeping your voice calm and steady. Patient, else you’d be subjected to the segment’s indignation. 

“Dunno.” 

You sigh. Is he a scientist or a child? “You do know. Where is he?” 

“I told you I don’t know!” He throws his hands up, accidentally striking his mask in the way—effectively leaving it to rest at an angle on his face. Most of his mouth showed now, instead of the half you’re used to seeing. And the holes for the eyes don’t quite go where they should... 

Blinking, you take in the sight in front of you while he calms down. His crimson eyes were glassy, and his lips formed a permanent pout, vastly out of character for a segment that supposedly represented The Doctor at the most volatile stage of his life. Azure locks curled around his cheeks, though they were usually tucked out of the way. His clothes were all wrinkled, in a way that left you wondering if you shouldn’t tend to him instead. Dealing with his attitude is annoying, but it’ll be amusing to think about later, I guess. 

“Do you really not know...?” 

“No.” 

“Then, do you know why I was called to the lab?” 

“No. Yes... probably not. Uh,” he crosses his arms over his chest and loses his balance for just a second, “I think I do.” 

You raise an inquisitive brow, silently encouraging him to continue. 

“Give me a second.” Beta shuts his eyes, shoulders slumping. His mask was still crooked—you had half a mind to fix it, but held back the twitch in your fingers. After a few seconds he pipes up, uncrossing his arms to reach out to you. 

“Come.” 

The segment grabs your wrist and drags you into the hallways of the Palace, ignoring your yelp of surprise and the stares of various agents lingering in the halls. You pass by ornate statues and paintings, the sight more unfamiliar than not. 

“Beta, where are we-” 

“Hush, I can’t walk when you’re talking my ear off.” 

...Right. Something is definitely wrong. 

After about five minutes of running around like headless chickens you tug your arm back, making Beta turn around indignantly. You lift your hands up in front of you before he can speak. 

“Did you mean to bring me to Lady Signora’s office?” you ask, lips curled up into a small smile seeing his mask still laid crooked on his face. With a gentle hand you fix it, cold fingers grazing his burning cheek. 

“...” 

Beta’s brows furrow as he avoids your gaze, huffing dramatically. Poor guy, you mused. 

“Alright, let’s go to the lab, then. He must be there, right? Where was Prime last time you saw him?” 

“...his office, probably,” he murmurs. 

With a nod and a smile akin to someone doing some gentle parenting, you place a hand on his back and help guide him to Haeresys. The stairs were hard to walk down, but with just a bit of patience and a bit of Beta clutching your arm while shouting that you were trying to assassinate him, you make it down in one piece. 

You remove your gloves and place your palm into the scan, then input the lengthy password to open the laboratory’s large doors. They slide open, revealing the absence of normal researchers and noise. You spot Omega standing over the remains of a ruin machine with a clipboard in his hands and look back towards Beta. 

“Go sit, I’ll go ask Omega about Prime’s whereabouts.” 

The clone nods, trudging his legs along to lay down on the leather couch tucked away in the lab. 

As you put away your large coat and hang it up in the small rack near the doors and make your way towards Omega, you notice the slow rhythm of his handwriting—when he’s usually seemingly speedrunning writing down notes, he’s now leisurely writing away, unaware of your presence. 

“Omega.” 

The latter turns to you, masking his surprise with a small smile instead. “My dear,” he practically purrs, putting away the clipboard in a swift movement, placing the pen in his coat pocket. 

“I was alerted that something was... off, with Prime. Do you know where he is?” 

And where you thought Omega would pick up on Beta’s lack of decorum, you were sorely mistaken. The clone walks up to you with that same smile brightening his features, placing both hands on your shoulders oh so gently. 

“He’s in his office. But enough about him, I haven’t seen you in a while, beloved. Why must you keep me away from you?” he muses, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. You tilt your head to avoid being stabbed by his mask’s beak, raising your hands to press against his chest to make some distance. The action proved to be futile, of course. 

We saw each other yesterday, you murmur. “I’m sorry, I’ll get back to you in a moment, alright?” You offer him a warm smile in hopes that he’ll listen, seeing as he seemed to be quite... mushy. 

It works, and he lets you go with a curt nod, retreating to go... somewhere. You didn’t linger around long enough to figure it out, since you knew where to go now. 

Walking across the lab, you note how things seemed to be more out of place than usual. It couldn’t have been a researcher, they always had to clean up after themselves, courtesy of their boss. So, the mess had to be caused by them... 

You finally stand in front of his door, raising a fist to knock. A yelp leaves you as you’re whisked away, the door slamming shut just as quickly as it swung open. 

“Dottor-” 

“Can you fucking believe how inept these agents are? They dare speak to me with such disrespect after delivering the lousiest job I’ve ever seen.” Dottore rambles, pulling you deeper into his office. You observe the state of his workspace, namely the papers scattered onto the ground and the... bottlecap on the floor, right next to his trashcan filled with crumpled up paper...? 

“Showing up in the lab with their damn hands empty save for the half empty bottle of scotch they tried to hide. Idiots were too shitfaced to notice how I noticed.” 

“Okay, Dottore, what are you-” 

He gestures wildly as he speaks, his hands the only way for you to read him as his mask hid most of his features. The blue lines taunt you; though you’re tempted to take it off, you feel like he might just lunge at you if you did. 

“And then they had the gall to insist that the bottle was theirs when I confiscated it.” Dottore pushes you down to sit on the couch, a small oof leaving you in consequence. “Anything that enters this fucking lab belongs to me, I’m the boss, I decide what flies and what does not.” 

Absolutely unaware of your muffled giggles as you piece things together, he keeps ranting, turning his back to you as he stomps away towards his desk. “Not to mention these damn lackeys have had multiple warnings up until now,” he spits out. “Lord Harbinger, we’re sorry! We’ll clean up the lab to make up for this offense! Lord Harbinger, it won’t happen again! Who do they take me for, a moron?!” 

The higher pitch he uses to imitate (and make fun of) the agents almost makes you lose it. But you keep your composure, sitting demurely, listening. 

Dottore comes back with a bottle in hand, orange liquid swirling around the thick glass as he stumbles closer to where you sat. He joins you without warning, creating a dip in the sofa next to you—almost forcing you to lean onto him for support. His free arm drapes over the back as he sighs loudly, making you stifle a laugh behind your hand. 

A pregnant pause stretches between the two of you as his anger simmers down to embers. You lean forward, attempting to take a look at the label on the bottle in his hand. 

“What’re you holding there, love?” you ask sweetly. Glancing up you’re able to steal a peek at his eyes from underneath his dark mask—Archons was he absolutely gone. 

It takes him a second to respond, almost as if he forgot you were even there in the first place. 

“Whisky.” 

“I thought it was scotch.” 

“Same thing.” 

“No it isn’t.” 

“Yes it is.” 

“No it’s n-” 

“It is.” 

Maybe it wasn't the brightest thing to do, messing with him while he’s this inebriated. But it sure was entertaining. 

“Alright. Well, how much did you drink?” 

“A sip or two.” 

As if on cue, he brings the bottle up to his lips and takes a swig. Your grin widens, thoroughly entertained by the show; who else had the privilege of seeing The Doctor so drunk he could barely formulate something that made sense? 

You bring his attention back on you as you place a hand on his knee, leaning close. Dottore immediately snaps into place, gaze flickering down to your lips from the proximity. 

With a swift hand you grab the scotch from his hands, inspecting the amount still left in the bottle. If he said it was half empty when he confiscated it, then... 

“Dearest, did you drink a quarter of this bottle?” You're not even supposed to drink it straight from the bottle, either is what you wished to add, but seeing how defensive he was already, you figured it would just make things more complicated than they needed to be.

As if stung by the Tsaritsa’s delusion, he immediately stiffens and defends himself. “I did not, I told you I only had a sip.” 

The way his bottom lip jutted out was almost cute, if you dared to describe him in such a way. Compliments could wait though; you had answers to seek. 

“Mhm, a sip. Well,” you put the bottle down on a coaster on the coffee table and turn to face him properly, “what happened to the segments? They’re all a little... woozy.” Your fingers trail his arm, tracing circles in their wake. 

Dottore swallows, Adam's apple bobbing as he opens his mouth to speak. “We’re connected, albeit loosely. They could be affected by the few sips of scotch I drank, though I would have some work cut out for me if that were the case. I can’t let them be so weak after all.” 

The way he spoke sounded, for lack of better words, pouty. 

Was he... sulking? 

“And since we’re connected, I know you spoke to Beta ‘n Omega earlier.” 

He most definitely is. He's even slurring his words, now...

“Yeah? I was asking them where you were so I could check up on you, baby.” You chuckle softly, taking the liberty of putting his mask away. Bright, glassy red eyes stare down into you, and you hold back the urge to smother his face in kisses. 

“You didn’t have to talk to them, you could have just asked me.” 

“I was looking for you, so I couldn’t have.” 

“Why not?” 

You scoff, smiling as you adjust yourself on the couch. Dottore notices and takes the liberty of pushing you down, laying his head down so his ear is on your chest, cheek pressed up into you. “I’m sorry, I’ll ask you next time,” you respond. 

That satisfies him, enough to render him silent for a handful of seconds before he speaks up again. 

“...I need to get back to work,” he huffs. 

You bring a hand up and run it through his disheveled locks, careful not to tug at the small knots in the hair at the back of his neck. Twirling the hair of his mullet you hum, noting how his weight seemed to grow heavier as the seconds passed. No way is he going to get any work done if he falls asleep here. 

“Take a break, you deserve it. In the meantime, you can think of a suitable way to punish those stupid agents from earlier, right?” 

A quiet hum is all you get in response. You look down expecting to see his unnerving red eyes to be staring up at you, but you’re met with the sight of his features completely lax instead. Azure hair pools around his face, settling on your chest where his face rose in time with your breaths. 

You would have dimmed the lights and turned off his computer if you knew he was going to keep you hostage on the couch. Though you can’t really complain at the turn of events; it’s rare for Dottore to be the one to initiate skinship in the relationship. 

It was quiet, but you managed to hear the low dear? that left his lips. You hum, not wanting to speak as to not break the quiet atmosphere lulling you to a sense of peace. 

After a minute of silence, you decide to repeat yourself—this time a little louder than before. “What is it?” 

Another minute passes, just as quiet as the last. The sound of his slow, deep breaths fills the room, accompanied by the low scratches of your nails on his scalp. His hair parts where your fingers tread through it, and you quietly note that you should trim his hair soon. 

Il Dottore’s poor alcohol tolerance will always be a mystery to the public, because there’s no way you would ever let anyone in on the way he cuddles up to you when he’s had too much to drink. 

[ellalalala]

Fade away with you - Il Dottore x Female Reader

This is based on a post I shared earlier today. Very short but I had to get it out of my system (one day I'll explore this idea a different way but that's a problem for future Ella to deal with). If I see anyone beneath the age of 18/ageless blogs liking this post, I'm blocking you. It's on sight. Also on AO3.

NSFW. MDNI.

Dottore hadn't known solitude until he met you.

You appeared in his life like a Padisarah blooming in spring; a creature so lovely and sweet that he could not believe you could be his. You were all-consuming, you were otherworldly. Your words awakened in Dottore parts of himself that he thought nonexistent; your touch set his entire body aflame and made him understand just how ravenous he had been his entire life.

He had never considered it before - that he could be hungry for something like this: you lying bare beneath him, hair splayed out on the soft pillow, eyes pooling with tears as you took him in. Gracious, generous. Dottore had not known intimacy of this kind before but you showed him all that he had been deprived of. Was it wrong to want more? Should it bother him, that the feeling of your walls enveloping his cock so sweetly was not enough?

A thought that would not leave his mind no matter what he did. Dottore ached with the desire to fill you until he was all you knew; to take and take until you had nothing left to give; to merge your souls into one, forever intertwined, never to be separated by the omnipresent island in the sky. And you would let him - you were kinder than he could ever be, sweeter than all the dandelion wine in Teyvat.

Dottore thrusted in and out in time with your wanton moans. He couldn't remember when his rationality had been overtaken by such desperate want, but that had ceased to matter the moment he slid into you. You were his only respite from a world which despised him - your body a haven he could have never dreamed of.

Archons, and why didn't he meet you sooner? Why did the stars mock him for five hundred years before finally allowing this to happen?

You whined when his cock brushed against that particular spot. He knew you were overwhelmed; your legs, wrapped around his waist, twitched every so often with a plea for release. Dottore reveled in that, too: that he could see you at your most desperate and prolong the sweet torture that he knew you so loved.

"I can't," slipped the miserable confession past your lips, "please, Zandik..."

He brushed damp locks of hair out of your face with a careful hand, kissed your tears with a softness he never knew he possessed. Dottore's gaze was nothing if not fond as he took in the sight of you.

"You can take it, dear," he murmured, slowing his thrusts to an agonizing pace, "Be patient."

It was a lot to ask of you when Dottore himself was on the brink of losing all self-control. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer and closer still; as if the proximity between you would force him to move at the pace that you favored. Had you forgotten, in your haze, that Dottore much preferred these slow, tantalizing strokes? That the sight of you writhing impatiently fueled his lust more than anything?

His lips trailed your skin: beginning with your jaw and stopping at the crook of your neck, where Dottore bit down in time with a sudden, harsh thrust that made you moan loudest. He went as deep as he could - squeezed by your walls in a way that made him groan against you. Intoxicating, divine. You would be his undoing.

"You're teasing. It's- it's too much."

Dottore chuckled softly. "Is it? Can't you take it?"

Fool. Terrible, fatuous fool.

How you'd melted every ice wall that shielded his heart - a shriveled thing, rotten to the core. Never had he yearned so deeply to mark you, to show the world that you had proven him worthy of being desired.

"I need more, Zandik," you said, words coming out in gasps as he pushed in and out, in and out. "I want to come."

Whatever resistance he had was crushed into dust. How could he deny you a thing when you had given him life?

"Anything you desire." He said, before pressing his lips to yours in a fervent kiss. His hands roamed your skin - your hips, waist, breasts, the pads of his fingers brushing against your hardened nipples, eliciting a sigh that sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't get enough; even when your hips bucked against his, even when your fingers tugged at his hair as he thrusted deeper, harder. His hunger for you was bottomless - a mere taste was not enough. Dottore wanted to become one with you; like the ley lines buried deep in the earth.

You broke the kiss first, but Dottore did not spare you the moment to catch your breath. He dove back in, thirsty for more, his heart nearly fluttering when your mouth welcomed his again. Could you feel it, the adoration he held for you? Did his rough kiss convey everything that you made him feel? If you were to open your eyes in that moment, you would have seen the passion with which he kissed you: in his creased brows and eyes closed shut. He focused everything he had on wordlessly telling you, mine. You're mine and mine alone.

He kissed you until his lungs betrayed him. Dottore rested his forehead against yours, the feeling of your warm breath on his swollen lips setting him on fire. Your body had tensed where it was pressed against his own - a sign of your impending release.

His hand moved down to your core, thumb slipping past your slick folds to rub circles against your clit. The moan that slipped past your lips as a result was an exhilarating melody that he could never tire of.

Dottore wished to see you as you came; to catch a glimpse of your expression, twisted in pleasure utterly unbearable. But he couldn't muster that strength, for his own release was creeping closer, turning his movements sloppy, the thrill of the moment too great to bear. He could only hear your voice, the slapping of skin against skin, could only feel the way you took him in - you consumed him with no mercy. Everything you did had formed cracks at the edges of a mask he spent five hundred years carefully crafting.

It was only when you stilled beneath him that he slowed his thrusts. You clenched around him for a brief moment - eliciting a hiss - and then you came undone with a cry that Dottore could feel in his bones.

He nearly forgot about his throbbing cock, still buried deep inside you, for Dottore couldn't tear his gaze away from your face. All coherent thoughts escaped him until all that was left was the same mantra he repeated each time he looked at you: mine, mine, mine.

[trailedstar]

HYPOTHERMIC KISSES

﹙ DOTTORE x MALE READER﹚ themes of betrayal, biblically accurate dottore, angst without comfort. 866 wc

꒰ Parallel lines never intersect, going on forever without meeting once. Perpendicular lines meet once and then drift apart.

Snezhnaya weather was notorious for its harsh winters, and today was no exception. The snowflakes danced in the air, twirling and spinning as they fell gracefully from the heavens above. The temperature had already dipped well below freezing, turning everything into a crystal-clear sculpture of white. Despite the beauty that surrounded you, you felt an icy chill run down your spine.

The bench you sat on was uncomfortably cold, even through your thick winter coat. You hugged yourself for warmth, watching as your breath formed little puffs of white smoke in the air. The snowflakes that landed on your eyelashes felt like tiny icicles piercing your skin.

"Zandik…" you murmured under your breath, your voice barely audible against the howling wind. It had been years since you had last seen him, promising to meet here, on this very bench, after you both graduated from the Akademiya. You had sworn to each other that no matter what, you would find your way back to this spot and continue your journey together. But life had other plans. Desires were humanity’s great Achilles heel, and it seemed Zandik's had led him astray. He found himself on the side of darkness, drawn in by promises of power and knowledge of the Gods.

You could still faintly remember the day you two had made that vow, years ago. You were sheltered in the library, surrounded by books of knowledge, the faint scent of leather and ink filling your nostrils.

"Zandik, you should stop venturing off and trying to research those Withering zones…" You say, a note of worry in your voice. "They're dangerous, even for someone as powerful as you. I'm not sure why you're so obsessed with those places, but you need to be careful."

Your words hang in the air solemnly as you watch Zandik intently, wondering how much he's changed. He used to be your closest friend, someone you could trust with your life. But then he became obsessed with knowledge, and it seemed like he became someone else entirely. It's as if the power that came with his studies warped his mind, and made him see things in a different light.

"I overheard the scholars, Zandik, they grow annoyed with your behavior.."

His eyes narrowed. "What do they matter? They've always been jealous of my progress. They can't handle the truth, the power that comes with it."

The sheer amount of arrogance in his tone was enough to catch you off guard momentarily.

"Okay, look, after we both graduate, we'll have all the time in the world to explore whatever you want," you say, trying to sound reassuring. "But right now, you need to focus on finishing your studies and becoming the scholar everyone knows you are. The Withering zones can wait." Leaning down, your heavenly lips brushed against his cheeks over the now bandaged wound. "Please, for me."

You feel his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer. His grip is strong, but not unyielding, and for a moment, you feel as if nothing has changed between you. It's like you're back in the days when you were both closer, exploring the world together, laughing and joking about the stuffy scholars and their outdated beliefs. You close your eyes, basking in the warmth of his touch, the familiar scent of his skin.

"Promise me, Zandik," you whisper, your lips brushing against his ear. "Promise me you'll be careful and we can explore after we graduate."

His hands tighten around you, but there's a softness to his touch now, a reluctant surrender. "I promise," he whispers back, his voice hoarse with emotion. "For you, I'll wait. But know this, my dear friend... When we finally do explore those Withering zones together, it will be you and I against the world. No one else."

However, that day never came, and Zandik was banished from the Academiya shortly after. But you were firmly set on keeping the promise you two swore.

Those memories were but a lingering moment, a reminder of the people you once were. No one could stay the same. Change was inevitable.

Your eyelids were heavy, drooping down to hide your irises. Your lips were peeling from the cold, quivering with your chattering teeth.

Ah… A moment of realization struck you. You were dying, weren’t you?

Lost within the desolate wintery world, your body was freezing itself to death. The tips of your fingers were changing colors, completely unable to feel your limbs.

Footsteps crunched in the snow, your gaze too hazed to process the appearance of the figure. You faintly picked up on the ornate design of the shoes, a weary chuckle leaving you. How you truly wished to go back, to not waste your time with Zandik. Only now did everything settle in. He truly changed. The sweet Zandik was no more.

“A speck of dust on one's coat, truly. How stupidly naive.” And with that, the person turned away, not even another glance at your cold body on the bench. Perhaps you’d serve a good purpose to a desperate, wandering soul.

[sodalitea]

II - Miracles of the White Nights [Il Dottore x Reader/OC]

You can read the fanfiction on AO3: Miracles of the White Nights -chapter II

I've finally managed to complete this chapter! It's been four months so I don't know if anyone still remembers this work, but here is the first chapter.

Contains: slow paced development of main characters' relationship, bickering, slight angst, domestic Dottore, romantic tension, non sexual massage, Genshin man x oc (can be perceived as reader insert) Content warning: cussing as the chapter starts, mentions of experimenting on animals Summary: Marie approaches Zandik as he asked. Their meeting may not have the smoothest course, but it's rewarding regardless. What's needed to be done, is done - the masterminds are making plans for the future. A glimpse of intent is almost palpable, but no one will speak about it.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Play the Fool - Dottore

Author Notes: Happy MerMay Genshin! This fic happened kind of spontaneously but I had a lot of fun writing it! Depending on how well it's received and what I feel like there may end up being a part two. I listened to "Black Sea" by Natasha Blume while writing this fic and I'm not gonna lie, this fic did not turn out how it was originally slated to. But I'm fairly happy with it. Dottore's merman fish base was a betta fish. Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: MerMay/ Mer-Dottore/ Merman AU/ gender-neutral reader/ I'm not gonna label this as fluff since that doesn't feel quite right, but know that it's NOT angst, yandere, or anything like that

Word Count: 1327

Trigger Warning: Discussion of past crimes including murder (Dottore), Fatui are generally shady

{Part 1: You're Here!}, {Part 2}, {Part 3}, {Part 4}, {Part 5}

EDIT: Entire series now available on AO3! (link deleted due to glitches)

I sat just outside the tank, watching the mysterious merman swim to and fro. Writing impossibly difficult equations with a sharpie on the glass walls of his tank as he continued on about his work and ignored me just like he always did.

According to some of the Fatui scientists who’d occasionally pass by to gossip and puzzle about the strange things he wrote, this odd man had once been the infamous Dottore. The second of the harbingers that worked for the Tsaritsa herself. But then something had gone horribly wrong in an experiment, and he’d turned into this. 

An exotic merman that looked more like something out of a fairy tale than a horrific science accident. But then, fairy tales often served as warnings of some sort, didn’t they?

Either way, his mistake had given some of his less-than-loyal lackeys the chance they needed. 

He’d been shoved into a tank and presented to the Tsaritsa as a centerpiece for her viewing pleasure. After that, each of them had become heads of the Fatui’s research labs.

Their betrayal had not been taken lightly, though, and at least three of them had been dragged into his tank and murdered when they’d come by to feed him. 

That was why they had hired an outsider to feed and care for the Harbinger, turned merman by his own crazed experiments. An outsider who was, namely, me.

Though I’d initially been terrified of the man, he was hardly frightening now. As long as I didn’t bug him when I gave him his food and kept his tank clean, he largely ignored me. Well, unless he wanted something for his work that continued even now within his tank.

Because despite the fact that he never spoke and had exchanged his legs for fins, Dottore remained intelligent. The trouble was, no one could truly understand what he was working on. The scientists only ever said that, from what they could interpret, it was groundbreaking.

But that wasn’t the only way my charge showed off his cleverness.

Whenever one of the few remaining scientists who’d been party to his betrayal came by to gloat about their victory or scowl at his writings that even they couldn’t understand, there was risk.

Almost inevitably, he would find a way to lure them closer and somehow, without any words, convince them to open the tank despite the risks they knew he posed.

Because while Dottore didn’t seem to kill without reason, he did kill for revenge. 

He’d never offered to harm me, but maybe that was because I served a purpose. After all, I was the only person who was willing to take care of his tank and feed him now.

Even the other Harbingers didn’t come by anymore, and the Tsaritsa had long since abandoned her ‘pet.’

He swirled through the water, his long, brilliantly blue tail fins spiraling around him like silk robes as he twisted. Looking over towards where I sat. 

I straightened slightly, surprised that my presence was even being acknowledged by the usually uninterested man, and, after a brief moment, he abandoned his pen. Letting it drop from his long fingers and drift to the bottom of the tank before he swam towards me. 

He stopped just short of the wall, a smile curving across his face, before he reached out with both hands. Pressing his tapered fingertips to the pristine glass that created a wall between us.

Curious, I mirrored his motions, placing my own fingertips on the glass right over where his rested. My eyes widened as he proceeded to flatten his entire hand on the glass, spreading his fingers as I, for reasons that even I didn’t understand, did the same.

It was like he was trying to communicate something to me, despite the fact that our interactions up until now had largely been limited to him pointing at whatever he wanted or scowling at me when I cleaned his tank.

He was the first to pull away, pulling one hand away to point up towards the top of the tank, the only place the water could be accessed from. I hesitated, realizing that the only other people I'd ever seen him direct to that location had been his would-be victims, whom I’d always only barely managed to stop.

I had been up there numerous times to toss his food or whatever item he’d requested by imperiously pointing at in, but I’d never done so simply to meet with him.

My fingers slid down the glass slightly, a frown creeping onto my face as my fingertips came to rest just over his palm, “If you try to drown me, I’m quitting.”

My words had only been muttered, but judging from the smile, devoid of kindness, that spread across his face, he had heard them and was pleased.

I stepped away from the glass, my gaze staying on him, floating with only a twitch of his finned tail, until I at last turned to mount the metal staircase that led to the tank’s top.

  I stepped up lightly, watching as he swam upwards, following my ascent in a far more fluid fashion as he glided silently through the water.

My steps had been unhesitating, but I paused as I reached towards the button that would lift the ceiling of the tank off. It was the only thing separating me from the merman who waited just below it. 

He would be furious if I aborted now, but that wasn’t my concern at the moment. My only worry at the moment would be what he might do if I did open the tank.

Would he attack and drown me? I had no clue how strong he actually was, but judging from his success rate thus far, I doubted I could get away from him.

The scientists he’d drowned were all members of the Fatui. Trained to serve that Tsaritsa in whatever way she needed.

 I wasn’t. I had no training or skills to assist me should he try to hurt me.

And yet I found myself pressing the button and watching as the machines activated even as I maintained a reasonably safe distance. I would listen to him, I was curious after all. But I also wouldn’t make it easy for him to attack me.

The sounds of metal sliding against metal filled the air as the tank's lid was slowly lifted off and the seal that held it to the tank’s thick glass walls burst.

Sure enough, there he was. Just under the surface of the water and looking directly up at me like he wasn’t surprised in the slightest that I’d done just as he’d wished. But up until now, I suppose I’d seemed totally obedient to his whims from his perspective. Well, except for when I would save his would-be victims from his machinations. And even that never seemed to really upset him. Rather, he’d always seemed more amused as he eyed the careful distance I kept between us. 

With a mere twitch of his tail, he surfaced, and I watched as he did something new. Something I’d never seen him do before, even when he was tempting foolish scientists closer.

He spoke.

“I always knew you were far more clever than most of the others here.” My eyes widened at the sound of his smooth voice. Wholly unfamiliar to my ears but strangely relaxing.

I shifted, still keeping my distance even though it was almost instinctive to step closer to him. I was curious, but cautious. And now that I was here, listening to the previously silent merman, I would play the fool and hear him out, “What do you want?

He drifted closer, either pushed by the water or by his own motions; I didn’t know which since my attention was on the single word that left his mouth as he lifted the mask from his face, revealing bright red eyes that I’d never seen before, “Out.”

[watatsumiis]

Snuggle series - Dottore edition

Feeling like shit tn i just want to snuggle with dottore >:c

(some silly self indulgent hcs below the cut)

gender neutral reader, can probably be read as platonic but it's fairly on the physically affectionate side.

Listen. Dottore is a very much 'has to keep moving' sort of guy, he gets antsy when he's not stimulated enough - he needs something to do, whether that be actively working on experiments or observing/researching stuff. Maybe he has his own hacked version of an Akasha terminal that stores all his research information and that he can add to on the fly just to keep his brain occupied.

If you approach him and ask for cuddles, his first questions are always "why?" and "to what end?". He's a very curious person and lives to find out more information about everything, especially you. Eventually, after some prodding, he'll find you both a comfortable spot to sit and pat his thigh invitingly, allowing you to sit in whatever position you like.

In this scenario, you sit down sideways in his lap, leaning your head on his shoulder, just about pushing your face into his neck. He's... not a particularly comfortable candidate to sit with, there's several bony bits poking into you (including but not limited to his hips, shoulders, collarbone and thighbones).

Dottore smells like a science experiment gone wrong - some strong chemical smells mixed together, the hint of hydrogen peroxide burns your nose. It makes you a little lightheaded, but if you weren't willing to put up with it, you wouldn't have come to him.

He won't admit it but he actually quite likes the pressure of someone sitting on him - it compresses his sympathetic nervous system in that way that's entirely perfect, and you hear him let out a quietly relieved sigh as you settle.

If he's feeling particularly tender, he might wrap his arms around you, pushing slender, gloved fingers against the small of your back, rubbing up and down in a manner that isn't too dissimilar to someone carving wood. He seems to know exactly where to press to make all the tension in your body disappear, even occasionally reaching up to massage the nape of your neck. He barely even thinks about what he's doing, it's like instinct to him, the way he prods at all the sore, stiff parts of you until you begin to ease up and melt into him.

Though perhaps falling asleep around Dottore isn't the greatest idea, it's nigh on impossible not to doze when he's got you here like this. Whatever he's working on at the moment is pretty quiet - the only sounds you can hear are his pen tapping on the paper and the gentle noise of your synchronised breathing (Dottore will brightly inform you later on that it's a common phenomenon that occurs when two people who are emotionally close to one another make prolonged physical contact).

Dottore is more than happy to let you doze for as long as you feel like it - it's not like he has anywhere to be for a fair while. He continues his work (which is probably just a large amount of observations about you) and just... lets you do your thing. Even if somebody else were to enter his lab (which they're mostly forbidden from, but there's always a chance someone will disregard the warnings), he would go out of his way to make sure you're not disturbed - that would ruin the results he's collecting, after all.

Overall, he's a pretty good person to snuggle with in the grand scheme of things, at least for a little while. He also gives great massages (provided you're fine with him keeping detailed notes on you).

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing!

[writtenbyjeanofarc]

— SERENA —

( Il Dottore X Fem! Reader )

SUMMARY

After backing out from The Doctor’s major experiment whose goal was to instill archon-like abilities within you, he decides to come up with a malicious plan forcing you to thank him for his efforts.

Little did you know, Collei, a fellow participant in Dottore’s experiment, felt curious as to watch along.

WARNINGS

RAPE/NON-CON. Unethical Experimentation. Aphrodisiacs. Sex Toys. Collei being a voyeur.

NOTES

Your name in this chapter will be Serena, hence the title.

This chapter has a fem! reader.

Before I see people complaining about underaged characters being involved in this fic, I would like to point out that Collei isn’t going to be subject to sexual matters here.

She’s just going to be a voyeur, in some way.

Don’t like, don’t read applies here! I’ve seen comments saying Collei is going to be involved with Dottore when she isn’t!

To those idiots who have given hate comments, first of all, fuck you. I’ve stated in my profile several times that I won’t be writing NSFW posts for underaged characters or entities present in my fics.

NSFW under the cut!

The Fatui hideout was akin to a black, gothic medieval castle in the harsh, angry winters of Sneznhaya—with its pointed triangular shaped rooftops and asymmetrical windows, the place was deemed highly unconventional to visit especially when the cold prevailed. But there existed at least eleven Harbingers and Fatui Agents who monitored the site for any possible intruders or attackers.

In the hideout’s interior lied a highly organized laboratory which had all sorts of equipment, weapons, artifacts, and tools needed for undergoing experiments.

And there you were, knocking on Dottore’s office for further assistance.

The door let out a slight creak as it opened, revealing his tall frame before you.

“What seems to be the matter, Serena?” Dottore inquired as he poured a cylinder of slime concentrate into a beaker.

“I….I don’t feel so good, Doctor. Ever since you injected me with those slime secretions mixed with liquified crystal chunks, I’ve been having a bad fever for a whole day up to now.” you said.

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? Aw. Hmmm…..I guess I can find a perfect remedy for that, but it would probably take a while.” Dottore said, rubbing his chin in contemplation. “Here, try this.”

“What is this, Doctor?” you inquired.

“A solution I developed from preserved slime concentrate without the liquified crystal chunks. Scientifically speaking, I made a minor mistake in my research thinking crystal chunks would actually grant someone powerful Electro-Charged abilities. Unfortunately, they caused the exact fever you have now.” Dottore replied.

“B-but Doctor….”

“I want you to drink this solution as it will be beneficial for your fever.” Dottore said.

You gently took the test tube and took a sip.

“Go on.” Dottore simply nodded.

You slowly drank the contents of the solution, feeling it’s thick, gooey texture as it filled your throat. It tasted quite sour. “Thank you.”

“Was it too sour for your taste?” Dottore asked.

“Quite so.” you replied, gulping one more time.

“Very well then, all you have to do is get some much awaited bed rest.” instructed Dottore in a professional manner.

You nodded. “Okay, Doctor.”

Leaving the lab, you found your way into the guest rooms right around the corner. Things made you wonder how they would make guests sleep in the basement, knowing residential homes would put those rooms on the top floor. But this is a hideout after all, so it would be obvious that they put every bedroom in the basement to establish a sense of secrecy from the public eye.

An hour passed. You suddenly felt hot, your cheeks feeling flustered as sweat began to grow more apparent. You didn’t know what to expect of the situation that befell you, but you can only hope that this isn’t anything fatal. The Doctor toying with you is the last thing you ever wanted, considering you placed great trust in him as your savior.

Being a sufferer of Eleazar, things haven’t been quite the easy way for you since you had to deal with its symptoms. From numbness in the skin to the formation of dark, hardened scales in your body, things have been quite rough for you as your clumsiness made it risky to just do whatever you deemed necessary. Cooking, for example, is something you dared not do, for accidents may happen when your Eleazar attacks.

Little did you know, you could see black scales appear on your wrists signifying that your condition worsened. You felt your feet grow numb, and it could feel as if you were about to fall down any moment. You didn’t know what to do, your state suddenly changing into that of panic. While you didn’t want to blame the Doctor for his continuous experiments on you, you just had to. You didn’t know why you chose to place full trust in him knowing he made a mistake in his research.

“Serena!” Dottore called out from the upper floor. “Would you mind entering the lab, please?”

You were reluctant to pursue Dottore once again, but this time it could be another treatment he came up with. Getting up from the bed, you had to make your presence known.

“Coming!” you replied, shouting.

Rushing back into the lab, you caught Dottore forming a smirk on his face while staring at the test tube, seemingly impressed with his new creation. That being said, he turned to you and beckoned a finger signaling you to come closer, so as to inject you with the substance.

“May I inquire what that is for, Doctor?”

“Think of this as some sort of follow-up injection….you drank the syrup I gave you earlier, but that alone isn’t enough.” Dottore said. “I’d like to think of its chemicals being that of a god’s remains. This will be crucial in making you an archon’s equal.”

Dottore continued speaking as he pierced the needle onto your skin, cooing. “Now, now…. Relax, my dear. You know I won’t be leaving….not when I fully get what I wanted from you.”

“Huh? Ow! Argh! It hurts! Doctor! It hurts!”

Dottore chuckled, earning a look of suspicion from you.

“It’s just fun seeing you react to even the slightest tinge of pain an injection could give you. I wonder how you’d react if…….”

You had to butt in and alert Dottore about his sudden change of subject—from curing your fever to actually making you a prototype of a god.

“But Doctor….We’re talking about my fever here..I want to know if this solution would cure it! Please…..The heat is unbearable…..”

“Worry not, my dear. When you become a god, it shall render you immune to all diseases, including Eleazar.” Dottore told you.

“Really, Doctor?” you asked in retaliation.

“I promise you so, my dear. You don’t have to suffer from your illness, or any other anomaly, for that matter. There’s only one last thing we need to perform on you to ensure your body is indeed fit for the other experiments done for you.”

“So, Doctor, this isn’t over? There’s still plenty of experiments to be performed on me?” you asked.

“I’m afraid so.” Dottore replied.

“T-then….I’ll just refuse to be a part of those experiments! I-I don’t want to be experimented on any further…..sorry…”

A change in Dottore’s face made itself clear before you. You were FUCKED. You immediately got up from the chair, only to be stopped by Dottore’s heavy hand on your shoulder.

“What did you say?” Dottore said softly.

You froze in confusion at the sudden change in the Doctor’s facial expression. “….Did I say something wrong? I just said……”

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.” Dottore scoffed. “You know what? You’re being incredibly ungrateful, Serena. Backing out from my research just like that? I just can’t believe your utter lack of faith in me. Here I am trying to cure you from your said fever as caused by your Eleazar, and this is how you repay me?”

“B-but it wasn’t my intention to-“

Dottore leaned closer to murmur in your ear.

“You agreed to be a part of this experiment for a reason. And you’re planning to take yourself away? That I cannot allow, especially for my favorite little subject….”

Dottore began to fondle your breasts with one hand, sliding his other hand below until he reached your intimate area, ‘squishing’ it with all his might.

You moaned involuntarily, covering your mouth in retaliation.

“Hmmmm….as I thought.” Dottore purred. “It doesn’t matter how much one tries to resist the physical pleasures given to them, no matter what, they just always seem to like it.”

“L-let go!!!�� you protested as you took a step backward.

“What’s the matter, doll? Scared? Aw….poor baby can’t take what’s been given to them.” Dottore cooed.

“I only partook in your experiment to cure my Eleazar! Not feeling these symptoms of being in heat!” you replied, backing away. You rushed your way out of the lab by finding an exit, and there it was. Upon touching the doorknob, you could feel the power of Electro course through your veins, earning a slight sensation of electrocution to occur. You winced in pain and took a step backward, protesting once again.

“It won’t open!! Why???!!!” you exclaimed.

“Because I made it that way. So no one would be able to intrude on us.” Dottore sneered.

“Nooooo!!!!!” you continued to unlock the door, only for it to cause another type of short circuit that shocked your body once more. In an attempt to get away, you could feel Dottore’s arms wrap around your breasts from behind, circling his fingers around your nipples.

As a last resort, you elbowed him with all your might, causing him to wince in pain.

“You brat…!!!!” Dottore exclaimed. You tried to run elsewhere, but you were grabbed once more as he carried you to a metallic table. He let you lie down on your back, letting you feel the cold of the metal upon your skin.

In retaliation, you got up, only to be stopped by Dottore as he injected another substance that would render you unable to speak. “There, there. I don't want to make things harder for us both, hm? I like you. Not only are you fit enough to become a god that could rival the archons in terms of power, but you…you’re perfect for me, Serena.”

“But-but you promised!!!” you said, feeling your tongue fall slowly numb from the anesthetic given to you.

“Promised what? I never gave any promises to save you fully from the beginning, dear. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“You promised to cure me….my….myyyy…mmmm….” you said as your tongue fully grew numb, rendering you unable to say anything that came into mind.

Dottore chuckled. “Promised a cure? For what, dear? You have to be more specific. Oh wait, you can’t speak…..Aw. What a pity.”

Dottore brought out a remote control, enabling Electro-powered chains to secure your hands and prevent you from leaving. “Stay still, dear. I’m about to bring something special to test out.”

“Arghhh!!!!! Hah!!!!!” you protested.

“Tsk. So stubborn. Worry not, dear. When this is all over, I’ll send you back to Fontaine, okay?”

Your face was angry in disbelief, your body wanting to escape the cold laboratory. Sounds of the chains echoed across the area as you protested for your life, even though you were already rendered helpless.

It was at that moment when Dottore pulled out a knife, cutting past the fabric of your clothes to reveal your swollen breasts, belly, and lower body. He took out every single cloth out of the table, earning another angry scream escaping your mouth.

“Hush, doll. I’ll be taking care of you. And you’re going to be a good girl for me, yes?”

You shook your head.

“Tsk.”

Dottore walked to the cabinet to bring out a classic rechargeable clitoral stimulator.

Returning to you, he leaned closer to murmur something inaudible, yet filthy. “I’m going to ruin you so bad you’ll even forget this is all a part of our little experiment.”

“Arghhhh! Hghhhhh!” you wailed.

Placing the hole of the stimulator over your clitoris, Dottore activated the toy, earning an involuntary moan from you. Dottore has studied enough about female anatomy to know where the right places were, and knew how to prepare you before getting over to the main course—to have him inside you.

The toy ‘pulled’ and ‘sucked’ similarly to when someone goes down on you. With each thrust inward, you let out a slight “ah!” here and there. That was only the first level, which meant that the intensity wasn’t at an all time high. Dottore was extremely satisfied with the way you were reacting, so far as to rub his crotch in arousal with his other hand.

“You’re taking this toy so well, dear Serena.” Dottore purred. “I’m sure that if you’ll have me inside you, there’ll be some way to have this dick in you with less effort.”

Dottore set the toy’s intensity level to a max, earning a loud moan from you. Your clit felt like it was going to twitch from the overwhelming stimulation dealt upon it. Your crotch felt wet, and that you were going to cum very soon. You slightly moved your cunt back and forth to the hole that ‘suctioned’ your clit, fighting back the urge to thrust your cunt in and out of the suctioning hole with full force.

“Humping the toy right back, are we, hm? Naughty girl.” Dottore murmured closer into your ear.

“Ah! Ah!”

“Filthy slut.” Dottore sneered once more. “Give into it. Feel its power.”

“Ah, hah!!!!” you screamed as you rocked your hips into the toy, grinding against it not because you wanted it, but because you needed it. You needed to get off.

You felt yourself coming close, gasping for air as Dottore held the toy closer to your clit.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

You let out an “Agh!!!”, signifying the climax has overtook your senses. Feeling your newfound orgasm, you continued to rock your hips onto the suctioning hole in hopes of feeling the after-effects of your high. You sighed in relief after getting what you wanted.

“Seems that my dearest subject has been very sensitive to external stimulators, let me write that down on my medical observations.” Dottore said as he grabbed a notebook with a pen attached to it from beside the table.

“Doctor!!!” Collei called out, rushing to the lab only to discover it had been locked and enclosed with an Electro barrier. She can’t get in, yet can see what was going on inside. She saw a small sneak peek of your naked form with Dottore scribbling down his observations in a notebook. “Doctor?”

Collei froze, watching you by the door’s small glass window. Dottore ensured the walls of the Fatui hideout were soundproof, which means that he couldn’t hear anything outside of the lab.

Upon returning the notebook to the table, he faced you to the front and pulled your legs forward. Without warning, he unzipped his pants, taking out his half-hard cock in the process. This made your eyes widen in surprise as you continued to protest even more despite your ability to speak rendered impossible.

“There, there, my dear, now it’s time for the main course.” Dottore sneered. “I promise this won’t take too long, I just wanted to…..test how many gods we can create with our children given your ability to bear a child.”

“Urghhhhh!!!! Arghhhhh!!!”

“Aw. Poor baby not consenting to becoming a part of my research? Well…..” Dottore laughed. “It’s not like you could do anything as of the moment, huh, Serena?”

“Arghhhhh!!!!”

Dottore ignored your pleas as he spread your legs wider, rubbing the tip of his cock across your clit with an intention to tease it. Before you knew it, he pushed his cock into your vagina with one quick thrust, causing you to yelp in pain.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” Dottore mocked. “You’re really this inexperienced, are you? Mmmm…..you’re perfect for me.”

You had no defense against Dottore this time. All you had to do was feel his dick stretch past every inhibition your body had, feeling every burn and ache. Sliding his dick in inch by inch, it took two minutes before he could finally be completely inside you. The pain suddenly developed into pleasure, Dottore letting out a hum in satisfaction with your body’s compliance.

It wasn’t long until Dottore started bucking his hips, thrusting back and forth with a slow, practiced motion. Dottore was standing up in front of the table, which meant that he needed to have more control over his balance so as to not have his legs shake in the middle of the do.

Collei from outside the lab could see a sight of Dottore rocking you from outside, a look of concern taking over her face.

“If only I could get into the ear of yours to whisper such filthy secrets I have in store for you,” Dottore spoke. “….I would have done it sooner.”

Sounds of skin slapping filled the air as he took his sweet time enjoying those beautiful whimpers of yours. Your tits bounced up and down which just fueled Dottore to moan in reaction to seeing your body give into his own needs.

“Such pretty tits my little test subject has.” Dottore said as he gasped for air, “Had this place not been a lab, I surely would have taken you in and pounced on you right there and then.”

“Ah! Ah! Ah!”

“Hm? Surrendering yourself too soon? Aw….but we’re just getting started.” Dottore cooed as he sped up the pace of his hips.

“Mmmmmmhhhh!!!!!”

“Mmmm…..seems like we’re getting closer, my dear.”

He was right. You were close, he was close. For a quickie, he need not waste his time any longer. He grabbed your hips hard, pulling them closer, so far as to leave red marks on them. You moaned in return, bucking your hips right back subconsciously. You’ve been feeling quite frisky lately, perhaps as a side effect of the drug that has been injected into you.

“My, my…..” Dottore chuckled, gasping for more air as he sped up the pace of rocking his hips in and out of you. “Eager for a little challenge, are we?” The two of you were thrusting into each other at this point as Dottore was getting close.

“Mmmmmhhh…..looks like I’m gonna……” Dottore moaned. He slightly slowed down, awaiting his release as you groaned in pleasure. With one sudden rush, he moaned once more along with you, his seed filling you to the brim.

After Dottore finished inside you, he grabbed a handkerchief, wiping his dick. He stared down at you while he reached for the remote control, deactivating the Electro-powered chains that stopped you from running away.

You could feel your tongue reverting to its normal state again, the numbness disappearing. With that, you were able to speak again.

“Treatment….Doctor. How’s…..the treatment….” you said as you panted hard post-orgasm.

“Your Eleazar symptoms have already subsided.” Dottore said. “You just needed to get off to cope with the side effects of the cure, since it contains chemicals similar to an aphrodisiac.”

“I see…..thank you….Doctor.” you said as your naked frame fell asleep on the metallic table.

Dottore unlocked the door with a simple remote control that deactivated the power of Electro. Leaving the lab, he stumbled upon Collei who happened to have watched the whole thing. Looking down at her, she attempted to run away only to be stopped by Dottore.

[screamingcrows]

A Good Night's Sleep (part 2) - Zandik x Reader

Author's note: Feed this to an AI algorithm and I'm giving you Clostridium difficile. Also fuck this. This is nowhere close to what I wanted, so now I'm throwing it out so it won't leer at me from my wips. Maybe I'll come back once I get over my subconscious aversion to writing smut. 1.8k words Warnings/tags: dubcon, but not how you think, dry humping, blood (very little), fem reader, tigers have barbed penises, earlier somnophilia, panic, coercion, they're both something, suggestive, nsfw, zandik is stuck in his head Part 1 MINORS, AGELESS, AND BLANK BLOGS DNI - you will be blocked on sight

"Go back to sleep"

There was a slight crack his voice despite Zandik's best effort to keep it even. He had already moved away from you, shaking his hands in the air, trying desperately to rid himself of the unpleasant sensations.

His palms tingled, caressing the ghost of your skin with every frantic movement. For the third time in his life there was nothing in his mind. It made him want to rip his hair out.

You were turning around.

Something had to be done to make you stop, he wouldn't look at you. Moving in tandem, he rolled onto his other side. The front of his boxers was wet. An urge to scream scratched at the back of his throat.

"Zandik? I- I asked you a question…"

Her voice felt like syrup, flowing into his ears. Thick, disgusting, alluring. The light sniffles were filtered out by his mind, as was the way her breaths became increasingly erratic. It felt vile, being an insect writhing on silken strands was not something that suited him.

Zandik recoiled when your fingers dug into his shoulder, you shouldn't be reaching out for him. He shuffled further towards the other side of his mattress. A calm mind to handle this, that's what was needed, and nothing about you trying to turn him around was calming. Although his mind had cleared significantly, there was still a bothersome ache in his body.

"And I said go back to sleep," he'd snapped the words at you before he could stop it.

Everything felt awful when he pushed off to stand, blanket sliding into a pile. His back was towards you when he clambered out under the net, stomping barefoot away from your little camp. Under normal circumstances he would've scoffed at anyone doing the same, if was unsafe and a blatant overreaction.

That didn't matter. Not when he could feel the sticky substance sliding down his abdomen. How it made the fabric cling to his skin. Worst of all was the smell of his own release. Even while covering his mouth and nose with a hand, he could detect those musky notes.

It made him gag, crumpling into the underbrush as he fought back the urge to empty the contents of his stomach. Morbid curiosity bid his free hand to ghost over his crotch, body jerking when he felt the wet patch. Even worse was the fact that he was still-

He shook his head, uncaring that his head still swam and any jostling came with a risk. A clear mind, that was the least he could supply. Soft sounds of running water caught his attention. Perfect.

It was closer than he'd dared to hope. Half tumbling down a small hill before he found himself on his knees. The water had already been disturbed by his movements, if there were predators, stealth was no longer an option.

The least he could do was practice restraint this time. Being found half naked, mauled in a stream was far from the legacy he desired. After what felt like an eternity of bated breaths, eyes flickering around the dark forest, Zandik dared to relax a little. If a spinocrocodile or worse had been nearby, it would've already struck by now.

Cleaning himself took longer than what was reasonable, but the cool water helped to soothe the prickling under his skin. Thoughts of you were kept at bay by his shivering, and every tantalizing memory that did make it through those defenses was quickly decimated with a simple look at the consequences in his hands.

Failure was a ruthless teacher.

His hands remained submerged in water, fingertips slowly going numb. Slivers of moonlight crept through the canopies above. There was something twisted in how gently it caressed his features when his head tilted back. Why would it shine so lovingly on him now?

Perhaps playing your preordained part was the only way to be accepted by them.

Walking back turned out to be more difficult than expected, feet dragging along the ground being a particular nuisance when paired with less than optimal lighting conditions.

How was he going to explain that he was naked? The thought of stumbling into someone else on the short walk back briefly flashed through his head, but that was a thought he would not entertain. Not until faced with that reality at least. And what would he say when you undoubtedly kept pestering him with questions?

There was no doubt that he had to go back, you still had things to complete the following day. And returning to the Akademiya alone would be folly, not when everyone knew you'd left together.

He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, briefly flinching from the cold touch. How was he supposed to deny what you would've pieced together in an instant if you were properly awake. Convincing you it had been a figment of your own imagination was undoubtedly the best course of action. If only there were dreams to blame.

Conveniently, your back was turned towards the direction he emerged from. Carefully maneuvering back to his mat, he swiftly looked through the modest bag he'd brought, desperate for something to cover himself with after forsaking his clothes in the water. A waste, but one he couldn't bring himself to care about. Especially not when his focus was broken by you moving a little.

With rising adrenaline, he swiftly lay down, struggling to pull the blanket over himself without alerting you. Clean boxers gripped tightly in his hand, he waits with bated breath for what feels like an eternity, accompanied only by your soft breaths and the ringing in his ears.

When you hadn't moved for a while he took the chance to shuffle around a bit, intent on finally getting dressed again and forget this ordeal.

"You know," your soft voice caused his breath to hitch, the silence deafening before you continued, "you could've just asked me…"

He lay frozen, leg raised off the ground, boxers halfway on as he considered if acknowledging your statement would doom his set course of action. Before he could finish the thought, you continued, uncharacteristically certain with your words.

"I'm at least guessing it wasn't an accident?"

"I simply needed some air and got up. It's none of your concern," he found himself struggling to remain cordial.

Why couldn't you just leave him be?

He heard your little huff, could almost see the way you were no doubt leering at him, deep eyes narrowed in frustration. It was infuriating how quickly you flooded his mind again, the clear water of the stream having done nothing to wash away those urges.

"Why can't you just admit to it? I know that was cum on my back, Zandik. I'm not stupid."

"Good, then you'll have no trouble understanding when I tell you to stop bothering me and go back to sleep."

Admittedly, the words came out harsher than intended, but the longer you remained awake, the more difficult it would be to write all this off as a drowsy delusion.

When his eyes finally closed, everything finally began to feel better. The ordeal had even made a comfortable weariness settle behind his eyes.

It took mere minutes before his rest was disturbed by a weight against him. He turned onto his back, wanting nothing more than look at the stars and scream. Instead he was met with your face hovering above him.

You adjusted your body, straddling his hips as you straightened your back. His eyes were wide, following the lines of your body, seeing the light bruising that had bloomed from his touch. Shame burned in his blood, not from the action but the confrontation that he hadn't been nearly as restrained as he thought.

He took a deep breath, tensing when your hands pushed down on his shoulders.

"Get off"

"Why? Isn't this what you wanted?"

He had to grit his teeth when you rolled your hips, keenly aware of the blood gathering down there. It didn't help how warm you felt against him.

"I said, get off"

You shot him a glare, nails digging into his shoulders a little. He knew the look in your eyes. You were plotting something, and if he wasn't struggling to keep his focus away from your lips, he might have been able to prepare.

The relief that entered him when you leaned forward was palpable, trapped in the mindset that you would climb back down. Instead your warm tongue pressed against his pulse, dragging up the column of his neck. It made him groan, hands shooting up and grabbing your waist in an instant to stop your movements.

That was a mistake. Once more feeling your softness had his mind reeling, and he didn't miss how sighed in satisfaction when his grip tightened. Your breath wafted against his ear, close enough that he could almost feel your soft lips against his skin.

"But I want to do this with you"

Something in your voice made him shiver, stoking the embers of an unknown force. It made him briefly pause, and that was apparently all the opportunity you needed. He doesn't have time to react before you've pulled the blanket out from between your bodies.

You're practically laying atop him, the feeling not nearly as restrictive as feared. Eyes fluttering at the odd comfort it provided.

"How are you-" his voice falters, nothing but static in his mind for a moment. "How can you enjoy this?"

Bubbling laughter ringing through the darkness is all the answer he gets, swiftly accompanied by the press of lips against his collarbone. He writhed at the feeling, obtrusive and much too intimate. Would you rip out his throat if given the chance? Would he?

His fingers were sneaking under the hem of your shirt, discovering with dismay that the fabric had a moist spot at the very bottom… You hadn't changed. Repulsive.

He has to yank your hair for your lips leave the bruise they'd been carefully nurturing. Your expression reminds him of predator moments before it strikes, and he can only scold himself for not recognizing that of course the intensity he respected would bleed into every aspect of your being.

"Stay with me."

A groan is ripped from his throat when you bite down at the junction of his neck, one of your hands tugging at his hair. Tentatively, his fingers run along the curvature of your spine, feeling how you arched for him. Warmth spread through his body with every kiss and lick to the column of his neck, barely noticing how you were grinding against him.

It did feel good, he wasn't blind to how his cock throbbed from the stimuli. But that was nothing compared to the feeling of your back splitting open under his nails, nor were the whines spilling from your lips.

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ You invite them to live in your Serenitea Pot

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe 

After prolonged years of adventuring, traveling, and battling, you decided it was the appropriate moment to invite your partner to your Serenitea Pot. It’s like inviting a significant other to move in with you, right? You are delighted, and even though your beloved is acting honored and calm on the outside, little do you know - he is secretly screaming with victory on the inside. 

✧ A tender smile graced Pierro’s cold expression. The first time you spoke about him taking residence along with you in your Serenitea Pot mansion, The Jester's inner machination was already planning a wedding. He loved you, with every fiber of his being. And whether you decide to live in the grand Snezhnayan Palace or somewhere private, it won’t hinder his plans to spoil you as his beloved.

It was all according to plan. You wake up, breakfast is already prepared. You start your day, the house is already cleaned. You wish to rest, his arms are already open.

He took his duties as a resident of your humble abode as if he were the househusband of this home. All matters were taken care of by him. And the fact that you two are already leading a private life together like a proper couple ignited his cold demeanor with softheartedness. It suited him; the commotion of the Fatui and Snezhnayan delegations were far away from you two. And with no peering eyes, the Fatui Director was busy with so many thoughts about your future: making your home better, showing himself as a man who would coddle you all day long, choosing a ring for you…

“Dear? You are deep in thoughts again,” - You called out suddenly, your gentle voice breaking his train of vehement thoughts. “I told you, you’re here to rest, not overwork yourself with chores!”

“Ah, my apologies. It seems I was lost in my mind once more. You know my habit of preparedness is often prevalent.”

✧ The honorable Il Capitano went silent the first time you invited him, and his pitch-black helmet did not provide any clues to his already stoic body language. At first, you hesitated. Perhaps he did not feel comfortable taking such an importan-

Next thing you know, the mighty captain is kneeling in front of you, his head hung low in utter reverence. “It would be my greatest honor to receive your blessings. I shall conduct myself with utmost obedience in your domain.”

“Goodness gracious, It’s just my house, Capitano! Not the Tsaritsa’s throne!” 

After much convincing and assurance, you finally had The First of the Harbingers in your dwelling. In the beginning, you pondered, what a man of his caliber would do in his private time. Perhaps more training, or planning for battles? You decided to create a separate area for weaponry storage and training duels. After all, you wanted to be considerate.

To your surprise, Capitano never brought his “work” in the privacy of your home. Instead, he treated you to some of the best home cooking in the seven nations. With a broad outdoor area like your Serenitea Pot, Il Capitano finally managed to flex his grilling skills. You never knew BBQ grilled vegetables could taste so heavenly. And on colder nights, he preferred some home baking.

“Who would’ve thought the strongest man in Teyvat relished such a peaceful routine when he’s at home,” - You teased him once. Feasting like a monarch with his cooking, you have your cherished prepare the best food and provide the strongest cuddles - what else would you need?

“I would never bring you the turbulence of war to the footsteps of your home. After all, mundanity is a luxury that the common folk cannot comprehend.”

✧ When Il Dottore moved in with you - he became an absolute menace to your mental well-being. The upper floor of your manor was entirely occupied for his scholarly needs. From your library to your study; the upper rooms were regaled, making a mini makeshift lab filled with vials of obscure chemicals or too-long-to-read medical names.

But that was not the main issue at all. The greatest conundrum was that Dottore considered your privacy as our privacy. According to him, the Serenitea Pot was a private residence, secluded from the turmoil of the world’s idiocracy. Any temporary visitors would receive a nasty glare from him whenever they stayed. This was his confidential sanctuary with you, not theirs. And in his private time, when it’s only you and him in the house, the Doctor would forget that people often get dressed after a shower - because he would exit the bathroom wearing only a towel around his hips, and keep waltzing around your room like it’s nothing.

“...Uh? Please dress first, Dottore.”

“Very well.”

“Not here!!!”

Nevertheless, you managed all that. What you didn’t manage, however, is how Dottore took the most amount of space in bed. Your bed, mind you. Before he joined your travels, you created a comfy bedroom in your Serenitea Pot, a separate, quiet setting for your favorite mad scholar. Alas, every night you peacefully went to bed, only to wake up with a figure wrapping his arms tightly around your midsection, taking half of your bed.

Today was one of those days. The blankets were a mess, some had fallen to the floor. You feel uncomfortable and claustrophobic in your own bed, something nudging you to almost fall off. You already knew the culprit of your situation - Dottore. He was dozing off comfortably behind you, his arms sleepily thrown around your form, glued to your torso.

You whined groggily, trying to get away - “... You have your own bed. Stop pushing me.”

“Shush. Come here.” - Dottore's arms encircled around your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. “It’s our bed now.” 

It seems The Doctor didn’t take long to feel at home. Oh well. The only way to deal with this was to use him as a mattress from now on.

✧ At first, you hesitated to invite Scaramouche to your Serenitea Pot. It was still a work in progress, and not all areas were refurbished or prepared. Yet surprisingly, it was he who opened the discussion of a joint dwelling. Perhaps it was his instinct to keep you closer, to be certain of your safety in his arms.

After asking and discussing, you were pleasantly surprised when the Balladeer stated: “I do not expect you to build a palace. I will help you with the renovation. You can ask for my help.”

And so he did. You felt timid with your emptied Serenitea Pot, yet The Harbinger took it upon himself to aid you. He worked with you on where the house should be, and what type of garden or entrance should accompany it. There was something about his serious gaze whenever he discussed with you the matters of home. As if some old memories were reemerging.

“It doesn't matter. We won’t clutter the place, as a busy environment becomes a nuisance. The less one has - the better.”

With a profound touch of contemplation and minimalism, You and Scaramouche managed to plan an elegant abode. It was simple, yet perfectly maintained - with the best aspects of Inazuma and other foreign nations in the craftsmanship of the furniture. You were surprised but content. You even went as far as to ask your beloved whether he wanted a more traditional Inazuman style for this private dwelling but he strictly rejected it.

He didn’t want any more memories of his “birthplace” to resurface. Not in a place that will be private for you two.

So here you were, giddy with excitement as the interior of your manor was settled and ready. The bedroom was cozy and comfortable, a perfect place to lounge and rest. The Harbinger would groan whenever you tugged and pulled him to sleep next to you. 

“If you move once in your sleep, I’m pushing you off the bed.” 

You promised him you wouldn’t. But it was he who relented and held you close to his chest during the night. He did not need a home or a safe haven from the cruel world; You were already his home. 

✧ Bring in the fine china, and roll out the red carpet - because Pantalone was coming over to your Serenitea Pot. You know that your sweetheart has a manor pricier than Mondstadt’s entire GDP, with fancy knick-knacks and luxuries. But as a couple, it was always Pantalone who insisted on you living with him, since he could spoil and pamper you after long travel expeditions. In his manor, you can simply have everything you ever desire. 

But today was a grand occasion. You decided to invite him to your humble home, even if you had little to impress him with. The Harbinger was ecstatic, this was a step he desired and longed for. Should he dress formal-casual or more extravagant? No, no. His hair must be well-kept. Perhaps he should bring an expensive bottle of Fontainian wine… The evening must end flawlessly. It’s his first night in your home, for crying out loud. An evening designated to culminate with lovely cuddles in your bed, lavishing you with kisses or more. 

Upon entering your cozy home, all his worries dissipated after you embraced him in your usual jovial way. You proudly displayed your manor, tugging at his hand and pulling him closer. Mirroring your pride, he stood analyzing each item or furniture as if it were a priceless relic in a museum.

“Ah, yes. I see this must be a traditional Inazuman doll, one used in ancient arts and rituals.”

“Oh, these round things? This is just a tanuki daruma… They bounce funny.”

“And I see this figurine must be imported as well, my dear? A marvelous craftsmanship of wood and carvings. Interesting.”

“This is just a wooden figurine of an Aranara” - you smiled proudly.

“I like your funny words, darling.” 

✧ If Tartaglia never invited you over to his family home back in Snezhnaya, you would’ve thought this man was homeless. The 11th often stayed in your Serenitea Pot, always giddy yet conscientious. Whenever you wished for any help around the house, his sleeves would roll up and the apron was on; all you had to do was ask, and you shall receive.

Thus, the two of you would help each other. If you were cooking, then he would do the laundry; all chores were equally divided. Childe was naturally hardworking, and you loved him for his dedication to the house. It always felt warmer and cozier whenever he stayed, and you made sure to display your appreciation throughout the day by providing kisses to the cheek or gentle caresses to his hair.

Who wouldn’t be thrilled when their beloved greets them home and kisses them on the cheek? Now that he is residing in your private adeptal realm, it makes him look forward to returning home even more. To be back from a mission, only to kiss you, pick you up, and squeeze you lovingly in his arms.

Alas, despite his domestic joy, he was also becoming restless. Such a huge realm, you could have a whole area for dueling or training an army here. Therefore, he would start nagging at you throughout the day, asking you to join him.

“Come now, sweetheart! Just a quick morning stretch!” - He said from the living room’s doorway.

“Oh, I know! How about we make a shooting range outdoors and see who’ll get the most bullseye.” - his voice rang from downstairs.

“Or a one-on-one sparring match. That will get the blood flowing.” - he even stood behind the bathroom door, still imploring you through closed doors.

All this and more persisted. Even in the early morning, when your eyesight barely adjusted to the sunlight, the first thing you’d see is him leaning over your shoulders “Perhaps we can-” 

“Nope,” - you intercepted, albeit sleepily. Pulling him closer to bed, you made sure he went still in your arms. “No fighting. Only cuddles...”

“Oh? Is that your form of a challenge, darling? Be prepared, because I won't back down.”

[kamocore]

he’d give you an uncureable disease and not help whatsoever just bc he likes seeing you so weak and seeing you suffer 🔥🔥 his typa love

[catscidr]

yall i blacked out and then woke up to this….. what is this…. who was so desperate to have more dottore x y/n that they drew more….. that’s crazy….

[yandere-wishes]

Kill Bill Snippet

It's sweet you think, as you stare down at the body lying limp on the laboratory floor. Chest cavity bore open for all of Teyvat to see that the mad doctor did in fact have a heart. There's a chill in the hair as your vision begins to glow, radiating ice and victory from its place on your dorsal side. Cyro slowly crept down the hilt of your sword, flowing like a stream of anguish toward Dottore's corpse. From the corner of your eye, you notice his hydro Vision dimming. Wet droplets soaked through his black gloves and merged with the pool of blood he laid in. In a flash of blue, Cyro met Hydro, the ground, the lab, the corpse of your dead lover all froze. Sealing the moment of the second harbingers' defeat for all to bare witness.

For a second your brain trails down a rabbit hole. Pondering if anyone would ever believe you did this out of love. Out of adoration. Out of devotion. It wasn't some heroic act, done by some Vision-wielding hero. No, if anything it was simply the manic envy of a failed experiment attempting to show just how desperately they loved their creator.