#Theta segment

[madamemachikonew]

The Certainty of Chance (Theta Segment x Reader) - Chapter 2

Don't know why AO3 links aren't showing the preview anymore on here when you try to embed hyperlinks, but here you go anyway if you want to copy-paste it:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59132785/chapters/168278836

After the wax museum, Theta takes you for a little drink.

(looking like this will be closer to 3-4 chapters rather than 2)

Rating Mature

[reiayanamiisbestgirl]

Why are you bringing your tax fraud son to the soup store?

Pavel by @moicat

Theta by @wolfiafan10

[m1d-45]

look, don't touch

summary: a minor mishap in the lab leads to a chain of.. interesting events with the second harbinger

word count: 4.8k

-> warnings: reader is badly burned + mentioned blood + somewhat graphic description of injury, dottore + his reputation, you think you're going to die at one point (not serious, in passing, you don't)

-> gn reader (you/yours) and non-canonical segments

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

you weren’t an earnest follower in celestia by any means, but if they could get you out of this then you would happily spend the rest of your life devoted to being a pastor.

mostly because that’s the only way you’d live to see the light of day again, but that was besides the point.

on a good day, working for any harbinger came with a lot of challenges, but you had ended up with the most ruthless and least rational. every time you walked into the doctor’s lab, there was a healthy amount of fear that it would be your last. at least one fight was going on at any given point, trying to read their horrendous handwriting gave you a headache, the constant mood swings and volatile behavior just the tip of the iceberg. on top of that, you also had to deal with being dragged into every idea and whim they had; your technical job title was merely ‘assistant,’ but that was far too narrow a band to cover everything you did that wasn’t in the fine print.

like this. standing with your hands shoved deep into the chest of a skywatcher ruin drake, fumbling for a casing supposedly “just a little further,” if beta’s continued pressuring was anything to go by. he was standing somewhere behind you, theta on the other side of the drake trying to figure out how to pry off the thick bolts sticking out of its spine. theta you could understand. he was mostly machine himself, so it made sense he’d be the one to pull apart the touchier components, but beta? beta, fussing with the wings of the drake, doing a whole lot of nothing while you shoved your very human and non-replaceable arms into a tangled mess of gears and wiring. you’d already gotten burned once, a thick droplet of oil falling onto your wrist from above that theta apologized profusely for, and you weren’t eager to do so again.

sure, if your arms did get ripped from their sockets you’re fairly certain you’d receive prosthetics in return, but that didn’t excuse anything. just because they were capable of amazing feats of science didn’t mean you wanted to be another test subject.

“you can do it,” beta ‘encouraged,’ leaning on your shoulder and not at all making it more difficult to strain for the part he wanted. “you saw the plans.”

of course you did, you were the one that had insisted he look them over again before ripping into the machine. behind the chest plate, behind the core, straight to the back was a wide bundle of wires. in the very center was a segmented strip of chained together casings shaped vaguely like dumbbells, supposedly easy enough to pull out. what was inside? who knew. probably beta. you’d found the wiring just fine—not just fine, you’d scraped yourself along far too many gears and raw edges to be entirely intact—but there was nothing inside it. you picked out the thinner wires one by one, and while you’d succeeded in finding the structure they were supposed to be in, it was empty. yanking it up had rewarded you with a bruise on your forearm and nothing in the slot below it, so you fed it back down and prepared to pull.

“please behave yourself, beta.” theta’s voice comes from higher than it was last time, a loud bang from above you reverberating through the entire machine. you try not to think about it.

“i’m supervising-”

“i’m supposed to be supervising,” you interrupt, gripping two bars of the structure and preparing yourself. “i don’t get paid enough for this.”

you breathe, your grip tightens, and you pull with everything you have. above you, something pops, and the frame in your hands is suddenly very slack. you don’t even have a chance to feel for the capsules before something hot and burning poured on your arms, a thick oil that clung to your skin and refused to leave. beta moved quicker than you could think, grabbing your sides and practically carrying you away from the machine. the sludge was forming a wide pool on the floor now, a dark lumpy black that stretched all the way up to your elbows and made you painfully aware of that fact. beta had grabbed a roll of mechanic’s towels and roughly wiped off the excess, the drag of the napkin on raw skin making you hiss. it left a reddish residue behind, though the sight of your hands quickly blurred with tears.

“theta, we’re leaving.” beta puts one hand between your shoulders and quickly pushes you out of the project room, a sliding door opening into the upper lab. you blink out your tears as best you can, mostly relying on beta to guide you past the maze of tables and machinery. this section of the lab didn’t have a medbay since the segments allowed up here never needed one, so it meant you had to walk all the way down to the lower lab for first aid. how fun. you weren’t keen on letting this stuff stay on you for any longer than it had to, but since when was any dottore known for his safety measures?

even in your limited vision, you see more heads turn toward you than usual as the door hisses open. beta don’t stop to pay them any attention, walking you straight through to the door marked with a red cross, hand tightening in your shirt when you stumble on the slight step.

“careful,” he says, like you’d ever be in this situation of your own accord.

the faucet hisses and so do you, gritting your teeth at the pressure on your hands. you blink rapidly, struggling to find the soap before he puts it right in front of you, pressing down the top and letting it fall into your hands. your skin is bubbled and angry, shaking hands and blurred vision making it impossible to figure out where anything was. instead of doing anything remotely helpful, beta just stands at your side like the world’s worst lightpost, providing no insight and only unnerving you further with his presence. the only indication he’s not lost in some manic daydream is occasional mumbling, though that may actually be evidence the more you think about it. you’re not sure how much time passes, just running water over your skin to stave off the pain. eventually, he sighs, “fine, i’ll go,” a nonsensical statement you almost don’t notice wasn’t meant for you before he speaks a little louder.

“i need to go, but i’ll get kappa for you.”

like he wasn’t already there to see you walk in. “sure.”

he lingers, then leaves. you continue washing cold water over your skin to keep the burning at bay, knowing full well its a superficial solution. best case, you’re burned severely and are either fired for incompetence or made to work through it. worst case, whatever chemical that was made its way into your bloodstream through one of the many scrapes you got and you were about to drop dead from a heart attack any moment now. neither option was rather thrilling.

your palm can’t take much more of the water pressure, but the thought of trying to twist the valve off is equally unappealing. pain, or slightly adjacent pain: a typical day in dottore’s lab. you never thought you’d be on the receiving end.

the door doesn’t creak as it’s pushed open, but the sound of boots on the floor gives it away. who you can only assume is kappa turns off the water, blotting up the excess on your arms with a soft towel that still felt too harsh.

“i know, i know…”

you watch through blurred vision—was that the cause of your headache, or was it the stress?—as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small tin. he moves delicately, barely a whisper across your skin as he spreads the salve over your arms. soft gel pads his fingers, a cushion of translucent silicone over everything sharp edge or hard plate. you could barely pick out the seams between the layers of his hand, each of them slipping and melding together in one fluid movement. the salve leaves a cool numbness wherever it touches, your pain swiftly becoming a faint memory. you’re somewhat surprised by how quickly it works, though you probably shouldn’t be. if they could figure out delusions, they could figure out an effective topical pain reliever. he gently twists your arm just enough to see if he’s missed anywhere, not pulling any of the irritated skin. once satisfied, he makes quick work of wrapping it, white bandage spiraling up your arm faster than you can blink. he tapes it shut just below your elbow, and the process begins anew.

there’s not much else to do but watch him work. your tears are finally starting to recede enough that you can see clearer, gauging the damage on your arms. it’s… well, terrible, if you’re being frank, skin peeling and blood smearing into the pale beige salve. you're definitely going to blister, and there’s no way you’ll be able to so much as pick up a pen in this condition. hopefully prime accounts for that when he decides your next shifts, though anything you do is realistically going to hurt. you’re pretty useless like this, even as a proper supervisor you couldn’t exactly take notes. you don’t have an ancient supercomputer in your brain like kappa or theta, and even the most basic of tasks involved your hands. no matter how good kappa’s medicine, there’s no way you’ll be in well enough shape by tomorrow.

“you’re worried,” kappa says, neither a question or a statement. an explanation, maybe, but to who?

“pardon?”

he ‘looks’ up (you’re fairly certain he only does that for your benefit) though his hands don’t pause, the red diamond on his face plate pulsing faintly. like his hands, the seam between black metal and bluish silicone is so small it might as well not be there. the silence stretches for longer than you know what to do with, long enough that he finishes with your arm, wiping off his hands on the towel from before. “your shirt has holes in it,” he says like it explains anything, ‘looking’ back down to wrap your hand. you’re able to watch this time, the roll weaving around your fingers and hand before being quickly spun along your arm, perfectly taut. he cuts it with his nail and tape dispenses out of his thumb to seal the end. he lingers there for a moment, thumb pressed on your inner elbow, before finally backing away. “you should change. there’s a closet behind you that should contain a spare shirt if you’d like."

you look down, noticing that he’s right. some of the goop splashed onto your shirt, leaving a smattering of holes. the skin beneath was fine, thankfully, but he was right. definitely not lab-safe, though not many of the actual substances you worked with were safe either. you were surely under-qualified to be handling khaenri’ahn machinery.

that’s beside the point. you turn around, finding the cabinet he’s talking about easily. shirts, pants, even a spare set of shoes. they seem to be mostly for the younger segments, but you pick out a shirt your size easily enough. you check behind you, seeing kappa turned away politely, and carefully pull off your shirt. you put it aside, silently thanking whoever decided to leave the shirts unbuttoned in the cabinet. probably kappa. it’s softer than you expect it to be, smooth blue that you’d almost mistake for some sort of fine silk if you didn’t know how resilient it was. every one of the segments wore them, fire, acids, and even beta’s occasional scalpel all deflected as if they were never there. it probably would have survived the corrosive from earlier, really, which makes you a bit bitter. the buttons close easily even with your limited dexterity, leaving neither bumps nor gaps down the front because prime was too good to be caught with a straight shot to his heart. if he was worse at his job it might be easier to be upset, but you couldn’t feel anything but begrudging respect about the man that hid a tie in the cuff to keep the sleeves secure around your elbow.

not for the first time, you wish you were given your own designated set. that would mean acknowledging you as more than an assistant, though, and prime seemed to be allergic to calling you even that. it was always either your name or ‘help’ with such a specific lilt that you couldn’t even describe it, something unique to whatever thoughts bounced between the precious few marbles still left in his head.

you liked to think you were more than just a standard helper. if nothing else, then the fact that you’d been working with him for as long as you had with your sanity intact had to mean something. according to rumors of payroll records from the ninth’s workers, the longest a previous assistant had lasted was barely a week over six months, and you had survived in this lab for more than a few years without getting fired, killed, or worse.

that could always end today, though. ruin drakes were endemic to sumeru and had to be carried across half of teyvat to make it to prime’s door, let alone the time spent finding and disabling them. failing a simple task on the first day was likely a perfectly fine reason to have your head on a pike. never mind that it wasn’t your fault, that it wasn’t your idea, or that you were grossly underqualified to supervise disassembly of khaenri’ahn machinery in the first place. since when was any segment known for his rational thinking and level-headed nature? fun joke.

you pick up your discarded shirt and thumb one of the many holes with a sigh. the edges were coarse and likely would only worsen in the wash, so there goes your uniform. the least of your worries, really.

“prime wants to talk to you,” kappa starts, drawing your attention towards him. his hands are folded neatly in front of him, mechanical voice slow and almost hesitant. you never knew a segment to be unsure of himself before, though you suppose prime is as good a reason as any. “but i can tell him you need rest. i understand today has been stressful for you.”

that was one way to put it. putting off talking with prime and going back to your quarters to avoid the problem for twelve hours sounded ideal, but you weren’t a fool. if prime was asking you to see him immediately after the incident, he had something to say, and denying a harbinger was a surefire route to whatever afterlife awaited you.

“thank you, but i’ll go see him now.”

his shoulders visibly fell, but he nodded. you dropped your shirt in the trash can as you followed him out, again ignoring the various other segments scattered throughout the lab. none stopped whatever they were doing, but you could feel their eyes on you, see their blue hair twist in your periphery. they’ve probably seen injuries far worse, and yours were already covered up… it was probably kappa, really. he rarely left phi’s side for any longer than he had to.

kappa input his access code without looking. or, you could only assume he wasn’t looking; even though his head was turned toward you, it didn’t mean anything. which was worse, that he could act without looking like he was, or that he acted like he needed to look?

his finger hesitates over the enter key. “you’re nervous,” he says again, this time actually feeling like it was directed at you. you never asked about before and probably never will. “he doesn’t seem upset at you.”

you bite your tongue to keep from being mean. you know he means the best—he was literally coded to be an empathetic caretaker—but prime wasn’t known for broadcasting his heart on his bloodstained sleeves. he could seem anything he wanted and it never had to reflect what he was actually feeling.

“thanks,” you reply instead, and he nods, the door sliding upward with a hiss.

the upper lab is empty. all the equipment is still there, of course, glassware and sealed jars littering the countertops, but all of the chairs are pushed in and vacant. nobody besides you walks along the tile, and the hallways beyond this section are empty too. stretches of white floor and steel doors your only company, the fluorescent lights buzzing above you.

it’s unnerving. have you written a will yet?

you turn to the right, towards prime’s office. it looks like all the rest, with a clear plastic bin hanging next to it and a keypad below that. you knock with your entire fist, two bangs that are a little too loud on your end but likely barely audible on his. his doorway is a foot thick, a well-defined border between the harsh lighting of the hall and his deceptively welcoming office.

whoever the fatui hired as interior designer deserved a raise. a nearly black wood bookshelf covers the entire left wall, volumes packed together with remarkable efficiency. on the right, a large map takes up most of the space, notes and string marking plans you don’t try to read. shelves of files and pinned up diagrams surround it in equally dense displays. the floor is a well-buffed dark wood that clicks under his heels as he rounds his desk, silent. the pristine white papers spread across his desk are the brightest thing in the room, interrupted only by the backs of the two chairs in front of his desk. he doesn’t pull one out, nor tell you to sit, only approaching you quietly. you can’t remember the last time someone dressed business casual was intimidating, but there’s a first time for everything. his gloves are a thick mystery fabric that barely a suggest a touch on your arm, blue palms carefully following the bumps and valleys of the bandage. you raise it, letting him inspect kappa’s work wordlessly. he doesn’t comment on the shake to your hand you’re certain he can feel, and in fact doesn’t give much of any indication at all. his face is unreadable behind the mask, a detail you’ve yet to determine as a good thing or not.

“theta analyzed the substance that fell on you.” his voice is quieter than you’ve ever heard before, like he’s uncertain about breaking the silence. he doesn’t let go of your hand. “it was mostly oil, yes, but it also included a mixture of slime condensate and some sort of elemental anchor. his working theory is that when the core collapsed, the slime mixture first spilled into the oil line, then that burst. the anchor dissolved into the oil, releasing its energy, and the slime helped it stick.”

dottore has a reputation well known across the entirety of teyvat and beyond. he was irrational, heretical, setting up seemingly nonsensical lines of dominoes that led up to a crushing wave of death. he did not care, he did not feel, he held no mercy. his office was more mystifying than the abyss, and a non-zero amount of his subjects had chosen the latter rather than stay. within the fatui, within his very lab, this fog did not lift. even theta and his khaenri’ahn brain couldn’t reliably track the thoughts behind prime’s actions. that thought at least made you feel a little better, because there was no way in a thousand years that you could ever rationalize prime explaining himself to you.

“you have experienced, in essence, a severe chemical burn.” finally, he lets go, stepping back and turning away to dig through the files on his desk, the rustling sounding too loud after he spoke so.. did you dare say softly? your skin prickles where he touched and you don’t know what to feel.

he comes back with an inch-thick stack of stapled papers and a pen, holding out both. you don’t dare flip up the blank cover page yet. “you will stay with kappa and phi until you are better, and follow whatever treatment plan he prescribes. you will fill one of these out three times a day: at morning, at noon, and at night. am i understood?”

paperwork? was that all? a lot of it, certainly—was there even enough time in the day to complete three of these stacks?—but far less than you were hoping for, let alone expecting. regardless, you nod, “when would you like me to start disassembling the ruin drake?”

the silence stretches. you can feel his eyes on you and you’re certain the weight isn’t phantom, even despite the mask. you run over your words again, searching for fault and finding none. you’d hoped by presuming you’d be working again you might save some of his anger, but did he not want you to? was that something he expected you to know already? did he not want the drake disassembled at all? the delicate wiring was certainly ruined by the waterfall of whatever anchor he said fell on you, and even if theta had somehow managed to salvage it there was no way it could be up to par.

“what?”

ever a man of few words. his fangs catch the light and you regret talking more with every second that goes by. “i assume you can no longer run any of your tests on it, so-”

“when did i mention the drake?” he shakes his head and crosses his arms with a surprisingly neutral sigh. “i give you explicit instructions to stay with kappa, yet barely a moment later you’re talking like you’re going to do something else. here i thought you showed promise…”

his words hold no bite. his arms, though crossed, are not taut with anger. you liked to think you’d gotten pretty good at being able to read the various segments’ moods, but that meant you’d either severely miscalculated or prime was teasing you, and you couldn’t decide which was worse.

you were lost, and the silence was continuing for uncomfortably long. “i’ll.. go see him right away, then?”

you can’t keep your voice from tilting into a question, having wandered neck-deep into unfamiliar territory, but he blessedly doesn’t comment on it. he waves you away with a stiff nod and you half-bow before turning around, not stopping until you’re safely down the hall and in the main lab with two doors between you. you leaning against the cool wall and stare at the packet in your hands. paperwork in exchange for an indefinite time off proper work sounded more than uncharacteristic to you, especially when a prized machine was damaged in the process. you turn over the pen kept beneath your thumb, seeing the ink inside slosh around within the glass chamber. it was one of his pens, not the standard practically indestructible ones kept around the labs. maybe that was why you were thrown off, he just really lost it this time. was this the calm before the storm?

you don’t stick around to find out.

the upper lab is still empty, an eerie feeling following you as you walk past the lines of tables and equipment. all of the actual chemicals are put away, which is a little reassuring, but it’s still wrong. even if the others are out, at least theta is normally sat at his desk. you walk a little quicker.

kappa is obviously awaiting your arrival, only idly watching phi mesh together gears on the floor—isn’t that a safety hazard for someone so young?—and perking up the moment you walk in. he waves you over to him, sitting on a large couch in phi’s play area. you cross the striped tape and enter the protected space, feeling only slightly like a criminal seeking sanctuary. kappa is sitting with feet propped a small coffee table in front of him, one you set down papers and pen on before joining him.

he notices the different pen. you can tell by the way his glance turns into a stare, ‘eye’ locked onto it with a slightly brighter glow. he sits dead still, transfixed… then his chest rises in another faux breath, his attention shifting to you instead. “see? not too bad.”

“i have to complete three of those a day.”

his head tilts, smile growing. “i’m glad to see he’s finally acting in accordance in his thoughts.”

before you can even begin to dissect whatever that meant, phi calls his attention from the floor. kappa’s eye flashes as he takes his feet from the table, standing.

“forgive me, i have to go. why don’t you get started on your paperwork?”

there it is. you almost forgot he was an identical copy of the guy who made you dig through a ruin machine because ‘it’ll be good work experience.’

you settle the stack of paper on your lap, uncapping the pen and flipping away the cover page to reveal the dense form beneath. your name, easy enough, then the date below that. next was the… approximate time of injury? why had he given you an incident report? he probably slipped it in on top of the other stuff for filing purposes, though you don’t know why when he would have gotten all of that information from theta. maybe he wanted to see if you’d lie? you may have willingly signed up to work under him, but you weren’t so stupid as to lie to a harbinger.

you described what you saw as best you could while not having any sort of medical training beyond ‘blood should stay inside the body,’ then treatment from kappa. your hand was already beginning to ache a bit from having to hold the pen, but it was tolerable enough when the page was finished in less than a minute. you let it relax a bit as you flipped the page, skimming the questions. your name, of course, then the date…

you flip the first page back to double-check what you already knew. they were the same. did he think you’d run out of space? it couldn’t be a fluke, surely—was one for kappa? questions fill your head, ones you ultimately decide to shake away. whatever the case, you didn’t need to touch this page, so you moved onto the next.

the next was the same. so was the next. you used your thumb to flip through the entire stack rapidly, confirming that yes, the entire packet are one-page incident reports, what’s going on? prime’s not careless enough to make a mistake like this. maybe beta, trying to one-up his past brilliant idea by sabotaging your work, or perhaps the goop had sprayed up to theta and fried his circuits.

“uh, kappa…”

he looks up from the elaborate string of gears phi has set up, smiling. “are you done? if you are, you should come over here and see what phi’s made.”

the younger boy visibly perks up, red eyes shining. his hands tap against the floor eagerly, “would you? please?”

you pointedly look at the stack, peeling up half of it so kappa can see your dilemma, but he only laughs in response. “come, dear. let’s leave that for later.”

you hesitate, unsure. there’s no reason kappa would have to lie to you. he has a direct line to prime in his head and was probably told to make sure you stayed on task, so… if he doesn’t see a problem with it, then that must mean this is how it’s meant to be, right? carefully, you set down the stack on the coffee table, capping prime’s pen and leaving it on top. prime had, for whatever reason, given you an unexpected out.

so you take it.

[madamemachikonew]

THIS IS A GREAT FIC AND THETA IS IN IT!!

We're finally back! A thank you to @madamemachikonew for letting me borrow her silly little segement Theta!

[daturabouquet]

Dottore has many clones to assist him in his work, and you can barely tell them apart (except from the super obvious ones). Sometimes you figure out which segment is which by their physical build, the older ones tend to have broader shoulders compared to the younger ones. Theta (older) and Omega (younger) look very much alike, same mask design and all, only thing that differentiates them is their overall build, and their personalities differ; Theta is warm but Omega is rather snappy.

One time you wanted to ask a segment about dinner choices, but you didn't want a fight... the only segment you see in your line of sight was either Theta or Omega.

So you grab a measuring tape, approach him, and measure his shoulders to find out which one he is, it turned out to be Theta, so you struck up the conversation.

you can say Theta was very visibly puzzled.

"(name)... Why did you just measure my shoulders?"

"To... differentiate you and Omega?"

"You pay attention to our... measurements?"

"Yes...?"

"You're much more of a creep than I thought."

[phoenixblaze1412]

may i request a gn!reader being freaky with the older segments for fun and to just tease em while they’re working in the lab. Like leaving touches (caressing their faces, tracing a hand down on their chests, etc.) leaving em kisses on the neck, etc. Then just leaving them with blue balls

and one day reader gets cornered by all of em and spicy shit happens uhhh yeah

It started as a game.

You were bored.

They were brilliant—always busy with their experiments, immersed in data, ignoring your presence for hours on end.

So, naturally, you decided to interrupt.

You started with Gamma.

He was hunched over a microscope, muttering to himself. You leaned in and let your fingers brush down the back of his neck, tracing the veins beneath his skin. He stiffened immediately.

“You're tense,” you whispered, lips brushing his ear. “You should take a break, Gamma.”

He didn’t respond—not with words. Just a sharp inhale and a faint twitch below the belt.

You smiled.

Then Theta, you traced your fingertips over his chest as he reviewed surgical notes. “Does your heart ever race in that cold body?” you murmured, letting your tongue flick over his neck before walking away.

Omega tried to ignore the kiss you left on his jaw. He clenched the table, growled your name lowly, but didn’t move.

Delta snapped a pencil in his hand when you straddled the stool behind him and massaged his shoulders, letting your breath ghost down the back of his neck.

Then you walked out of the lab.

Like nothing happened.

Like you didn’t just awaken every feral instinct in four dangerous minds.

Hours passed. They said nothing. You began to think you got away with it.

Until the lights dimmed in your wing of the lab.

Until the door locked behind you.

Until four very pissed-off Segments cornered you in the dark.

Gamma was the first to grab you, slamming you against the wall, lips crashing into yours with fevered anger.

“You think we’re toys, firecracker?” he growled, grinding into your thigh. “You thought we wouldn’t make you pay?”

“Made us walk around thinking about you for hours,” Theta hissed, sliding behind you, pinning your arms back. “Now you get to be our lab rat.”

Omega and Delta circled in like sharks. Omega’s gloves were off. Delta’s shirt was unbuttoned.

“You’ll be sore for days,” Delta purred.

“Beg now,” Omega demanded. “Before we take it.”

You were already aching, but you smirked, defiant.

“Make me.”

They did.

———

They stripped you fast, leaving you exposed on a lab table, restraints locking your wrists over your head. Cold metal beneath your back, four mouths on you at once.

Theta left bite marks down your chest.

Gamma sucked bruises onto your thighs.

Omega slipped two slick fingers inside you, curling expertly while Delta whispered: “You're ours now.”

And then?

They denied you.

Over and over.

Teased to the edge. Again. And again.

Every time you begged, they laughed.

“Not yet.”

“You wanted this.”

“You don’t get to finish until we do.”

.

.

Finally, they gave it to you.

Delta pinned your hips, his length thick, ruthless, ramming into you deep while he growled filth into your ear. “Tight little tease, gonna break you open.”

Gamma grabbed your throat and let out a small coo at how you're taking the others well while thrusting into your mouth, using your tongue to vent his built-up frustration.

Theta held your legs open, letting everyone watch your hole stretch, your body twitching as you finally came..only to be flipped and taken again.

Omega rutted inside you. His release hot, punishing, enough to make you sob. “Now you’re marked. Claimed."

Each Segment took their turn.

And then again.

And again.

You were drooling, trembling, belly full, body twitching from overstimulation.

They didn’t unbind you right away.

They just stroked you gently, whispered in your ears, kissed your bruises.

“Next time,” Gamma purred, “we do it in the main lab.”

“Let’s see how loud you scream during dissection lectures,” Theta teased.

“You’re not walking tomorrow,” Delta smirked, kissing your temple.

Omega simply looked down at your cum-streaked, shaking form and said:

“Touch me during a test again… and we’ll breed you on the exam table.”

[tiny-space-whale]

Did you have any good recommendations for audio fiction podcasts? I scrolled through your blog a bit to find some and followed a couple but wanted to know if you have any favorites

Do I ever!

Granted, I shouldn't be taken as an average audio fiction enjoyer as my interests lean toward fun and cozy. I don't do much horror, and horror is HUGE in audio fiction. If you're looking for darker fare, I won't be much help, but if it's sci-fi and/or slice-of-life you want, I'm your person.

All-time faves, in no particular order:

Monstrous Agonies (by HR Owen), a fictional weekly advice radio segment for "night folk and members of the creature community." Very calm, very fun, and very topical - the problems are often clear allegories for relatable issues.

The Vesta Clinic (by AMC), a series of patient notes from some overworked and underpaid doctors on a space station.

Travelling Light (also by HR Owen), letters home from a previously cloistered member of a religious community, who is on a pilgrimage across the galaxy. Contains one of my favorite characters of all time.

The Fitzroy Diaries (from ABC listen), a cute slice-of-life that istg nobody has heard of. Has very fun and real characters, and the prose is delightful.

Vega (by Ivuoma Hall), a far future action-adventure courtroom mystery with a ton of narrative personality. Almost like listening to someone reenact their favorite movie, but their recap is as well written as the film itself.

The Bright Sessions (from Atypical Artists), recorded sessions of a therapist to people with superpowers. Of course it gradually expands to their misadventures outside Dr. Bright's office.

Moonbase Theta Out (by DJ Sylvis), which starts as transmissions from a moon base that has lost funding and is being shut down. But for Season 1, you're only getting the parts of the story the comms officer wants to tell.

Desert Skies (by Jared Carter), an emotion-filled series set in the first pit-stop on the journey to the afterlife.

Neighbourly (by Matthew OK Smith), a slightly anthological series of short stories about the strange and often supernatural residents of Little Street, one house at a time. Each one kinda reminds me of the really out-there and experimental episodes of Night Vale, which were always my favorite ones anyway.

Hamuel Burger (by Hamuel Burger), an absurd comedy in which a livestreamer from space is trying to speedrun assassinating the president? I think? It has made me belly laugh every time I've put it on.

Not an exhaustive list, and I'm sure there are others plenty worthy of joining these.

Honorable mentions: Someone Dies in this Elevator (an anthology which I just started but that seems great so far), Worlds Beyond Number (which is an actual play, not an audio drama, but it's my favorite actual play), Hardcore History (historical events in a narrative style), and the Gospel of Haven (which almost gave me a panic attack but which I can't stop listening to as it comes out)

[madamemachikonew]

[FERAL SCREECHING AND CRYING]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH

THIS IS BEAUTIFUL OMG THANK YOU THANK YOU

THETA MY BELOVED

[curls up in a ball on the floor and sobs but also sends you platonic kisses and headpats]

An illustration to the fanfic "The Serpent".

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/43875679/chapters/123956299)

(go check it out ABSOLUTELY GOOD I WOULD DIE FOR IT)

"Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince." he whispered, his ears ringing with shock at the surreal scene. The dead weight of Theta’s head still resting on his lap, Pantalone sat on the floor for another hour or two in deep contemplation, until the setting sun had plunged the room into darkness.

@ "The Serpent."

(my apologies to the Author, I have no idea what characters wear, so I gave them clothes I imagine them in.)

[moicat]

Segment ocs as cats + Lena segment < @reiayanamiisbestgirl @fishi3 > Order of appearance: Natalia, Zel, Artem (being held), Theta (pawing at Artem), Vilen (curled up inside of Zel's tail), Firouz (the other side of Zel's tail), and Lena.

[xreaderanonaccount]

Hard to say (Dottore x G/N!Reader)

Prompt credits to deityprompts

To your utter surprise Pierro handed you a special mission, one that none of the Harbingers know about. Saying that it’s orders from the Tsaritsa herself. You had mixed emotions as you didn't know how to feel. Honored, scared, worried? You didn't know, too many emotions stirred around your head. Reading over the mission again it didn’t seem like a hard mission. Go to this fancy ball, infiltrate the head honcho’s office, steal certain information and leave. Simple enough. You told Dottore about this, expecting him to either A. not care or B. force you not to go, but his reaction was not what you expected.

As you explained the mission to him he didn’t move, didn’t say a word, just paused all movement. You grew increasingly nervous as you continued your explanation. Dottore would normally say something by now but now… he’s just quiet. 

But once you mentioned the reason why Pierro wanted you to go a loud shatter was heard in the quiet lab. You yelped in surprise as you rushed over to Dottore. You quickly noticed red blood dripping onto the lab table and Dottore’s stone cold expression. 

“Oh my Tsaritsa! You’re bleeding, Dottore, stop gripping your hand too tight!” You exclaimed as you rushed to go grab a first aid kit that was somewhere around this lab. 

“You’re not going.” You paused your movements as you turned to Dottore’s hunched form.

“What?” You questioned, not quite sure if you heard him correctly. Dottore whipped around, even with his mask on you can feel the rage emitting from his eyes.

“You’re not going, I refuse to let you go.” Dottore gritted his teeth as he stalked towards you.

“Well, I can’t refuse Lord Pierro’s order” You stuttered as you shuffled a bit. Rarely do you defy Dottore’s orders, cause normally he was right. But this time you and him had no choice but to follow through. You watched as Dottore looked around the lab trying to gain support from his segments. But they all just shrugged and turned their heads. Delta only just said “stay safe” before heading back to their work. Dottore sighed in frustration as he gripped his hair, it seemed that no one was on his side. You watched as Dottore paced around the lab muttering something to himself. You couldn’t understand what he was saying as he was speaking Semurian. Dottore yelled in frustration before throwing a beaker at the nearest wall, smashing right next to Omega’s head, who didn’t flinch. 

Dottore sighed as he ripped his mask off rubbing his tired temples. Still gripping his blood soaked hand. This type of reaction was normal for Dottore, especially when it pertains to something he doesn't like. So no one really flinched or moved when Dottore threw his small tantrum. You took a small step back as Dottore took three steps and reached you. Before you can even utter his name he engulfed you in a hug. You yelped his name as he placed his full weight onto you. You struggle to try to hold him up as he sinks into your arms. 

“Just don’t die.” He mumbled against your shoulder. 

“What?” You asked, trying to pull him away to clearly understand him. Dottore looked you dead in your eyes, his ruby eyes unreadable as leaned in closer to you. Your lips barely touch each other.

“Just- try not to die. I’m really not bothered to replace you.” Dottore sighed as he planted a rare soft kiss on your lips. His lips were surprisingly soft and gentle as he went in again for another kiss.

“Hey if we’re giving our darling kisses, I want to give some too!” Iota exclaimed, lightly shoving Dottore aside peppering you with kisses all over your face. You giggled as Iota was quickly shoved by Theta who wanted to give you a smooch as well. You glanced behind seeing a small line being formed with all the segments inside the lab. At least you’ll get enough kisses for one day.

A/N: divider credits: cafekitsune

[madamemachikonew]

2, 7, 23, and 34 for Theta

(Or all of them, but that both feels like too much and some of them are pretty obvious)

2. what sort of music would they like? have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? do they have a favorite song?

He listens to pretty much anything that he can stick on as background noise without distracting him from working. But if he's in the mood for moping Howl's Moving Castle style, then it would be to 'Hab' Mir's Gelobt' (aka the final trio) from Der Rosenkavalier by Richard Strauss. It's the culmination of a love triangle.

If I had to associate a song with him in terms of what reminds me of him, it would be Count Grassi's Passage Over Piedmont by The Divine Comedy. I'd love to write a one shot of him based on this song, as I could imagine him feeling truly free in a hot air balloon and happily tossing the picnic basket over the side to gain more height. 'If I were to die, then let it be in summertime, in a manner of my own choosing...'

7. favourite animal? Why?

The way I unhesitatingly said 'frog spawn'. The whole life cycle of a frog is the closest he can get to watching cells divide in real time, as well as them being an evolutionary microcosm. He loves to watch tiny gelatinous blobs turn into wriggly waterborne life forms, who then eventually sprout legs and flee to land. And freedom.

23. how would you describe their voice? can they sing?

Average singing voice. Neither particularly sweet nor tone deaf. I kind of imagine his speaking voice to be reminiscent of a young Jude Law. Not quite as well-spoken as his Bosie Douglas but not quite as Londoner as his Gigolo Joe.

34. how would your character describe themselves? it doesn't have to line up with how they really are

Indolent renaissance man.

A few bonus ones (I've tried to pick the least obvious ones though some of the questions made me a little sad for him like how did he spend childhood summers and will he ever go home)

are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most?

Dark navy-teal blue, the kind reminiscent of old Swedish palaces. Basically this colour. He often wears his signature velvet frock coat in this colour, highlighted with embroidery in silver thread.

3. weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?

Length of pipe, spanner, violin, wine bottle, monkey wrench, easel, welding torch...basically whatever he can get his hands on, since he doesn't customarily carry a weapon. He is skilled with a rapier, but that's just for fun. He generally doesn't enjoy fighting.

12. how long have they been around? do you know their birthday? is their birthday the day you made them or another day? what do they think of celebrating birthdays?

Officially his first chapter was published on 23rd July. But for some reason I keep gravitating back to 25th May as his birthday. So it's that, I guess. Birthdays are bittersweet because it isn't really a birthday in the traditional or biological sense. He doesn't celebrate them, since he never expects anyone to remember them, plus they're slightly meaningless amidst the segments. Consequently he will feel quite touched if someone goes to the trouble of remembering. But he takes a quiet pleasure in the fact that it's his and not Dottore's.

22. do they sleep well at night?

He is very nocturnal, but not through insomnia, rather it's his most productive time of the day. It's easier to concentrate. But if he goes to sleep, he sleeps soundly for the most part.

30. do they smell like anything notable?

Citrus cologne masking either engine oil or linseed oil depending on whether he's been painting or engineering. And cigarettes.

[reiayanamiisbestgirl]

Science fair

@moicat

[dottores]

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, theta hurts reader but only a little, this was not edited sorry for mistakes 😭

notes: alrighty guys, this is officially the last chapter of the regular schedule—after this one, updates are going to be sporadic but they will at the very least be monthly. wish i could keep up the schedule but its not going to be feasible considering i start law school this upcoming wednesday </3 i'll update the masterlist to reflect the change too

SPIT IN MY FACE

“Excuse me?”

The masked man—had Gamma called him Theta?—kept a tight grip on your wrist, holding it up in front of you so he could look at it himself. He was stronger than he looked, you tried to rip your wrist out of his hold but failed. His nails dug into your skin in response to the attempt, drawing blood. You grimaced as you watched a thin line of red seep down your forearm. 

“You heard me.” Theta’s smile didn’t budge as his other hand came up to grab your chin, turning your head away from where Kappa was still buried in the crook of your neck to face him. “Was he trying to keep you hidden away or were you trying to hide from us?”

He wasn’t looking at your hand. He was looking at your finger or more specifically… where your thread was hanging from it, leading off somewhere to the left of you wherever Dottore was. You remembered how Kappa had looked down at your hand curiously before deciding to come over to you, the way he was so at ease with you for no reason. And Gamma. Gamma had looked at your hand before he started panicking and ran off.

Could they… see it?

“Hm?” Theta’s nails dug into your cheeks now, just like how he had with the aristocrat—you didn’t even know where they went, if they had taken the opportunity to flee or if he had done something to immobilize them, you couldn’t turn your head to check. You grimaced as you felt his nails break skin again. “Answer me.”

How was that possible?

You could all but taste the poison in his words, the impatience and the frustration. You were at a loss as to how to proceed—your arms were tied up with Kappa, one of your hands was stuck in his and he was forcing you to look at him, and that unhinged look in his red eyes was causing your brain to fog with fear.

Think. You had to think. You had to free your wrist from his hand. You had to get back to your room, or to Pantalone’s. 

Where was Pantalone? Livid, you realized that the man was probably still listening in on the show, not getting involved, leaving you to deal with this unstable bastard. 

Think. What did he want to hear? What would make him settle down at least enough to loosen his grip on you?

But how the hell were you supposed to know what he wanted you to hear? Even with just the way he spat out those two questions, you knew both answers were wrong and would set him off more. But you had to say something, the longer you went without answering his question, the more his eyes flamed with impatience—you didn’t want to know what would happen when that thin thread of patience snapped.

“I came here, didn’t I?” you asked quietly. You tried to relax your shoulders and upper body, exuding a type of faux-comfort with the man. “I came looking for you.”

Theta’s red eyes narrowed with suspicion, watching you carefully—his grip did not waver, much to your distress. 

“You don’t even know who I am,” he said coldly, speaking the one truth you’d hoped he wouldn’t. His grip on your wrist tightened and his nails dug deeper into your cheeks. “I hate liars.”

“I’m not lying,” you told him, grimacing as his nail dragged against your skin. Kappa shifted in your arms, bristling, you couldn’t tell if he was watching or not. “You can see the thread, no? I may not fully understand how you can see it but the fact that you can speaks enough.”

Theta hesitated, the corner of his lip dipping in doubt as he tried to decide whether or not he thought you were lying. You watched with bated breath, tongue kissing the inside of your teeth, as a flurry of emotions rushed through his eyes ranging from anger to hesitancy and hope. Then his eyes hardened, decision made, and your heart sunk to your stomach.

“Liar.”

Again, his grip tightened but it was painful now and your body begged you to pull away or do something but he was stronger than you. He forced you closer to him, turning you so that if Kappa wasn’t between you, you would’ve been chest-to-chest with him. You wondered if you should let him go, let him flee somewhere safe, but he was still clutching your shirt.

Theta leaned in close, you could feel his breath hot against your cheek and the cool ceramic of his mask nudging against your skin where his nose would have been. You grit your teeth together as you felt something warm and wet press against the skin of your cheek where his nails had broken through, lapping at the blood.

Your face felt hot, anger and humiliation curdling your blood as Theta let out a puff of amused laughter against your skin.

“You taste like a liar too,” Theta crooned. “Lambda thinks you’re a fake sent to distract us. Are you a fake, little liar?”

Us. He kept saying us but you don’t know what that meant or how it was possible—they could see the thread but as far as you could tell, they did not have a connecting one. You had never seen anything like that before, nor had you ever read about anything like that. 

You thought you should say something but your mind was reeling as you tried to piece together the puzzle and figure out what was going on.

But before you could do or say anything, Kappa squirmed and twisted in your arms, hanging over you to whack his small fist hard against Theta’s mask—with more strength than you expected from the boy. 

Theta grunted stumbling back—he wasn’t hurt but the force of Kappa’s swing had partially knocked his mask off, revealing thick scars similar to the ones you had seen on Gamma. He fumbled trying to straighten out the mask and as he did, you whirled around to rush to your room.

You didn’t get far. 

Not because of Theta, who was cursing as he fastened the mask back on, but because you slammed right into someone else’s chest, broad and dressed in dark clothes. You glanced up as a pair of gloved hands grabbed your waist, irritation rising at Pantalone’s thin, close-eyed smile. You wondered if you had passed or failed whatever test he expected from this situation. 

The pads of his fingers pressed into your waist as he shifted you over to the side and behind him, leveling his attention on Theta as the man straightened back, narrowed eyes still trained on you instead of the Harbinger. 

“Theta.” Venom dripped from Pantalone’s words as he spoke his name. “I suggest you make your way back to the Doctor’s labs instead of bothering my guest.”

“Your?” Theta spat out, taking a step forward. His eyes were wild again now, far gone from the hardened look he had directed toward you after he made his decision. You stiffened, watching as Pantalone lifted his chin, raising his eyebrows, challenging Theta. “She is not your anything, banker. Go back to counting your coins and sucking noble cock to get further in the world, stay out of our business.”

Pantalone, to his credit, did not look bothered by the dig—the only sign of anger was the way his lip twitched before he spoke: “Take it up with your maker, fraud. You have no authority here, you are not the Doctor.”

“I am-” 

Sharp and loud, Theta’s voice rang up and down the hall as he took two long steps forward as if to attack Pantalone but the Harbinger only let out a huff of amusement as he cut Theta off mid-shout.

“I am not one of the subordinates who you can fool into believing you are him. You are a rabid dog running a thin line between life and death. It is only a matter of time before you’re put down, I again suggest you leave before I make that day come sooner.” 

You thought that you shouldn’t feel anything for the man standing a few paces away but something deep in you clenched when Theta drew back as if he’d been physically slapped, red eyes wide with shock. The feeling did not last long though because as quick as the hurt appeared, it was gone, twisting into something far more sinister as a wide smile spread across his lips, teeth bared much like the rabid dog Pantalone claimed him to be. 

“You think you can kill me?” 

Something manic stained his words, deranged and challenging as if he meant for Pantalone to back his words right then and there. Theta did not have a vision, not one that you could see or feel at least, but you knew in your bones that he was far, far more dangerous than he looked—he was strong and he moved faster than any visionless human you’d ever seen. Briefly, you wondered if he even was hu-

Pantalone stepped forward and the air around the four of you crackled with an energy that made your skin crawl. You let out a shaky breath, eyes widening as you took a step away from the man, unconsciously trying to get away from the source of the energy, an unnatural and uncomfortable feeling spreading through you. 

What is that? 

It felt sick. Corrupted. The air tasted stale and rotted as it seeped down the halls like poison. Your vision was reacting in response to it, the purity of the hydro energy trying to repel the new, malefic energy but it was curling all around you, trying to find chinks in the thin shield your vision was providing you from the decay. 

You had to get away from it but your feet were rooted to the ground, watching the scene play out before you. Neither Theta nor Pantalone looked bothered by the energy—in fact, Theta looked thrilled, eyes alight as his impossibly wide smile widened even more, a giggle slipping from his lips as he raised his hand as if to summon something, but before he could snap his fingers, his eyes dulled and his knees hit the ground hard. Almost like he had been turned off, just like that.

What-

At once, the energy around Pantalone dissipated and you could move, confusion riddling your mind as you tried to figure out what happened to Theta and what that disgusting energy was. You took a step forward, eyes wide and trained on Theta first—was that Pantalone’s doing? But as you turned to look at him, your gaze caught sight of a figure down the hall. 

Dottore. 

You were bleeding. 

Dottore could feel his cheeks stinging but he hadn’t been sure what it was until he got to the hall in Pantalone’s wing where Gamma had left you. Theta was on the ground, empty-eyed and still, turned off courtesy of Dottore, and Pantalone was standing to the side of you, seemingly unimpressed by the whole situation. 

But you were looking at him, and only him, and he could only focus on you, eyes tracing the blood as it dripped down your cheeks to your neck, dribbling down your skin. With creased brows and lips pressed together tightly, he couldn’t tell if the look you were directing toward him was suspicion or anger or something else entirely. The only thing he could feel from you was what he assumed were the remnants of the confrontation with Theta: fear, anxiety, skepticism, confusion, disgust. 

Disgust, was that directed toward him or Theta or both of them? It didn’t sit well with him. He wondered how much Theta had told you, and he wondered how much you’d been able to piece together from what he had. Dottore had been hoping to keep the existence of the segments a secret from you. 

The last thing he wanted to have to do was get into depth about what they were because if he knew you even half as well as he thought he did, he knew it would turn into an interrogation of all that he’d been up to with his research. Even when you were young, when the third phase of the bond had first manifested, he had to be careful about what he was thinking about so that it wasn’t transcribed to you. Countless times he received words from you that could have only been originally given by him: the names of the segments, residue, deactivate, and Dottore knew that you must be taking every word he sent you to relentlessly research into them. 

“Doctor,” Pantalone finally drawled as Dottore came to a stop in front of them, forcing his attention away from you just for a second. “It’s about time that you’ve leashed your mad dog, I’m quite tired of dealing with him.”

Dottore didn’t acknowledge his words. Instead, he focused his attention back onto you—the only apparent wounds were the deep scratch marks on your cheek and wrist, painful but mostly superficial. It would heal in a few days at most, he would pass along an ointment to Pantalone so he could give it to you to speed along the healing process. 

The issue for Dottore laid in the boy tucked neatly in your arms, hiding his face against your skin.

The Kappa segment. 

Dottore exhaled. That would be trouble trying to handle. The Kappa segment was skittish and nervous. He usually only stuck around Epsilon, Iota or Gamma, he even tried to avoid the other segments if he could. Dottore had a feeling that it was because they reminded him of their father but he couldn’t be sure. 

Either way, he had never latched onto someone like this before and Dottore had a feeling it would be an issue trying to get him away from you. He didn’t like shutting down the younger segments—or any of the segments for that matter because it tended to mess with their wiring—but he thought he might have to in order to get the kid back to the estate without alerting the entire palace to your presence and relationship to him. 

His eyes lingered on you, only for a few more moments, watching the way you held Kappa close, arms wrapped around him tightly as if to shield him from danger. Kappa seemed like he was on the verge of dozing off, his shoulders rising and falling steadily—he’d never seen him so comfortable with someone that wasn’t Epsilon before. Something unfamiliar tightened his chest. Longing? Desire? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. 

He looked away sharply, finally turning his attention to Pantalone. 

“Regrator, don’t act as if you spend all of your free time reluctantly handling my segments. You are usually asking for them, in fact,” Dottore said dryly. He barely spared you another look as he said: “I’ll handle this. Go back to your room and rest.”

Your face twisted and Dottore bit back a sigh, realizing that round three of his war of words with you was about to begin.

“I am not a child,” you shot back, voice tight. “You can’t just send me to my room. I have questions and you will give me answers now. I’ve waited long enough.”

Dottore had a feeling that you were not just talking about the past few hours. You were talking about the decade he had spent ignoring your existence. Unfortunately for you, he had no interest in answering your questions, not now or ever. 

He turned his attention back to Pantalone, ignoring the furious look that spread across your face at being blatantly ignored. Luckily—or unluckily, time would tell—Epsilon stepped in. He watched as your brows dipped in suspicion, looking between Epsilon and Dottore warily. If you hadn’t put together something was very, very wrong with the existence of Kappa, Gamma and Theta already, he had a feeling that Epsilon’s appearance just sealed it. 

Dottore turned away as Epsilon took your hand in his to press his lips to your knuckles before he gently led you in the direction of the door on the left. Gamma and Iota followed behind, the latter far more excited than the former. Gamma cast one last pleading look in Dottore’s direction just as Iota slammed the door shut behind them. 

Dottore, as he turned his attention to Theta’s still body, thought this might just be the worst case scenario. All three of the children. Theta. Epsilon. The last segments Dottore wanted meeting you all somehow managed to do just that within hours of you being in Zapolyarny. This would spread to all of the rest of the segments in no time and then he would have Zeta demanding to see proof of your existence and Rho lurking about curious; he’d have Delta bashing down the palace door to get Iota away from you, convinced by Lambda that you were only here to deceive them. And he’d have Lambda doing god knows what to try to remove your existence from their lives so they could continue their research without distraction. 

He needed a plan of action and he needed it fast but first, he had to deal with this. 

“What happened?” 

“Two aristocrats came up looking for the Kappa segment,” Pantalone said off-handedly. “Your soulmate interfered.”

“Interfered?” Dottore demanded. “What was she doing wandering around?”

Pantalone raised his eyebrows. “Was I meant to lock her in her room?”

Dottore looked at him coldly, silently telling him yes, he should have. They could not afford to have any of their subordinates run into you, much less any of the Harbingers and he knew that some of them would be searching for you. He remembered Columbina’s cryptic comment about you a few months ago, Sandrone’s fury at your presence in Snezhnaya, Arlecchino’s odd interest in you—and if Arlecchino was interested, it was only a matter of time before she sent her attack dog after you to find out whatever she wanted to know. Keeping you isolated from the rest of the Fatui was paramount.

“What happened with Theta?” Dottore asked after Pantalone let out an exaggerated sigh of agreement. 

“What always happens with Theta,” Pantalone said dismissively. “He gets set off and lashes out. Was going on about her faking the bond, apparently Lambda is going around convincing them she’s lying.”

Of course, Dottore thought bitterly. He knew that Lambda had been talking to Zeta, Delta and Rho but he thought the segment knew better than to get Theta wound up about this. 

He took a deep breath, taking a step away to calm himself down. Well, that made that decision: the first thing he had to do was talk to Lambda, he couldn’t have him turning the segments against you, least of all Theta, who was very liable to attack those that he thinks did him wrong. After that, he would figure out what to do with the rest of the segments because in stopping Lambda, he would have to admit to them all that you were his soulmate, that this was all real. 

That this was all real. 

Dottore shut his eyes briefly, unconsciously looking in the direction of where you, Epsilon and the kids had disappeared behind the dark door that led to your room. His body itched to follow them in there—the bond in work, surely, but he could feel it was getting stronger. It was stronger than it was while he had been dancing with you, and even stronger than it had been while talking to you outside of the washroom. He should just grab Theta and drag him back down to his lab, leaving Epsilon to deal with your interrogation, but his feet weren’t cooperating.

“You should speak to her,” Pantalone said as he turned to go back to his own room. “If you’re going to have me confine her to this wretched place, you should at the very least, explain to her why… lest you have a very unhappy soulmate on your hands. I doubt that would be conducive to productivity.” 

Dottore hummed dismissively, glancing back at the door once. He supposed should, he didn’t want to deal with your turbulent emotions, especially when he was going to be dealing with the segments. 

Distantly, a part of him wondered if he was just using that as a logical excuse to give in to the pull of the bond. 

“And Doctor, do get me that prototype by the morning as promised.”

You felt overwhelmed. The older boy, Gamma, was sitting in the corner of your room, knees tucked to his chest as he watched you with the younger two. Kappa was fast asleep now, tiny arms slung around your neck as he slept—you had tried to place him down on your bed but whenever you tried to pull him away from you, his arms tightened and he started stirring awake. The other one, you didn’t know his name yet, was kneeling on the floor next to the bed where you were sitting, big red eyes peeked above the comforter, watching you with varying degrees of suspicion and distrust and longing.

He had the same scar on the upper half of his face that Gamma did, you couldn’t help but notice, down to the burn patterns and wrinkles. And they were identical, if Gamma was a few years younger, he’d be the spitting image of the kid. It was impossible. Not even brothers can be so similar as to be identical down to the wrinkles and patterns in scars. 

So, what were they?

You had to have been onto something when you thought it was some sort of experiment—Kappa was too young to have been born eight years ago, Gamma and the new kid were too similar in appearances, if you saw correctly when Kappa partially knocked off the mask even Theta seemed to have some scars on his face, and Theta and Kappa both showed a strength that did not reflect in their body.

A throat being cleared knocked you out of your thoughts, your eyes drew up from the kids to where the man was standing near the door. He gave you a small, apologetic smile as his eyes met yours—red and gentle. 

Who was this?

You watched the man with thinly veiled suspicion. He looked just like Dottore, silvery blue hair styled the same way and even wearing a similar dark button-up that he did. 

Except unlike Dottore, he was not wearing a mask. 

His skin was smooth compared to the scars of the children and instead of the ever-present frown of Dottore, the corner of his lips were turned up. You had grown used to the cold aloofness of your soulmate over the years, it unnerved you how someone could look so much like him and yet feel entirely different. 

You raised your chin as Epsilon came to sit on the edge of the bed next to you, keeping your expression stony, studying him to try to figure out what he wanted from you.

“Peace,” he murmured. “I’d just like to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” 

He had a white handkerchief between his fingers and you were acutely aware of the blood still dripping down your cheeks and arm. He raised his eyebrows, but sighed when he realized you weren’t going to budge, placing the handkerchief back in his pocket. 

“Very well,” he said quietly. “I’m sure you have questions. I can answer them if you’d like.”

Of course you had questions, but could you trust him to answer them? 

He didn’t appear as if he was trying to deceive you, his eyes were warm and his lips were lax, he had none of that tightness that Dottore usually had. Was he faking it? Or was he wanting to help you? You couldn’t tell, his demeanor was throwing you off.

“You’re really her?” a new, young voice said softly, voice hesitant but tinged with the slightest bit of hope that had your heart aching. You looked back toward the kid as he peered up at you through thick curls of hair cautiously. “Our soulmate?”

Our.

Your ears rang, distantly watching as the boy reached out for your hand, thin fingers playing with yours until he reached the one your thread was looped around. From the corner of your eye, you looked at the older man, who was watching you with a knowing expression.

Our.

How was that possible? He could clearly see your thread, trying to play with it and tug at it in the same way you used to as a child, but he had no connecting one, like the Doctor did. Did that make you his soulmate but he was not yours? Was there such a thing as unrequited soulmates? But you didn’t think it was that simple, there was a critical piece of information you were still missing.

But the kid was looking at you again, anxiously awaiting your response, and you didn’t have the heart to deny him. Even if you weren’t sure what was going on, he could undeniably see your thread.

“Yes,” you finally said, watching as he lit up, red eyes pooling with tears and lips trembling as he flung himself forward, burying his face into your lap. He jostled Kappa, who kicked his foot out instinctively, but the kid was unbothered.

“I knew you were real.” His voice was muffled into the cloths of your dress. “Everyone said you weren’t but I knew you were.”

Your throat tightened and your now free hand twitched from where it was laying on the comforter of your bed, coming up to pat his head.

You let out a shaky breath, lifting your gaze to focus on the man still sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you with an indecipherable expression.

“I’ve never seen them take to someone like this before,” he said softly. “I suppose it’s just further proof that you are who you claim to be. Some of the others thought it might be a ploy.”

Others, you wondered distantly but you were more focused on the last thing he said, face twisting.

“I would not fake a soul bond,” you said tightly, mind turning to your stepfather and your mother, your dead father and your destroyed family.

“I insulted you,” he realized. “My apologies, it was not my intention. I was not one of the ones that thought that way but I figured it was best for you to know and prepare, some of them might doubt you when they meet you.”

“How many of you are there?” you asked, but the more important question that you just couldn’t push out was what are you?

“Excluding the Doctor, there are nine of us. I’m called Epsilon. Kappa is the youngest, then Iota, who is on your lap, and then Gamma, who’s sitting over there,” he explained.

You looked back over to where Gamma was sitting. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, staring out the window into the dark night… or maybe he was. Amused, you realized that he was still watching you carefully through the reflection of the window. As soon as he realized that you noticed what he was doing, he turned his head away quickly.

“He’ll warm up,” Epsilon said quietly. You looked back toward him, watching as his lips turned up, red eyes glittering, as if sharing some secret with you. “He’s nervous.”

You couldn’t help the way you let out a puff of amusement, studying Gamma and the way he was digging his nails into the palm of his hand and tapping his foot against the wood of the window nook incessantly. 

“I don’t… really understand all of this,” you finally admitted, relaxing a bit with Epsilon. You let yourself lean back against the large, decorative pillows set up on the bed, watching the man that looked eerily similar to Dottore, wondering if this was what he looked like beneath the mask as well.

“This is new for all of us too,” Epsilon told you, “so I can’t really explain to you what all of the bonds might be or mean… but I’m sure that is not what you’re asking right now, is it?”

“Not entirely, at least. First I’d like to understand…”

What you are. What they are. Why you can see the thread and why the children think that I’m their soulmate too.

“Well, I’ll do my best at explaining then. You deserve that much at least.”

The heavy weight on your chest lifted, if only a little. You thought that this might be the first time in weeks, months, that someone was actually giving you answers. Your father passed and left you with only questions, the masked person from the inn gave you even more questions and not a single answer, and now even Dottore refused to answer your questions, he just sent you away for Pantalone to deal with. 

“Thanks,” you said softly, eyes meeting his again.

Epsilon gave you a small smile, lips parting to speak but before he could say anything, the door to your room opened again. Your gaze shot up, eyes falling upon a familiar masked figure standing in the frame, lips pressed together tightly. 

“Epsilon,” Dottore said coldly. “Bring Theta down to the lab.”

Epsilon sighed heavily, shooting you an apologetic look before rising to his feet. “Another time,” he offered, and you nodded, disappointed, ignoring how Dottore’s lips turned downward.

Epsilon made his way out of the room, slipping past Dottore, and Gamma threw himself off the nook and scampered after Epsilon, fleeing the room without another look toward you. 

The door slam shut behind them, an eerie silence sweeping over the room as he left you with Dottore.

Dottore’s already sour mood worsened when Epsilon flung him a triumphant look as soon as his back was turned to you. He wondered what he said to you in those few minutes he was in here alone with you but for some reason, he doubted that you would tell him and he by no means wanted to add more fuel to the fire by appearing interested in you. Narrowed eyes followed Epsilon as he left the room, shutting the door harshly behind him and the Gamma segment so he could speak to you without unwelcome ears listening in.

The Kappa and Iota segments made no move to leave—one being fast asleep and the other now watching Dottore suspiciously, shifting behind you to peek over your shoulder at him. Dottore could see the boy clutching something in his hand, knuckles white around the object and arms tensed as if ready to throw it. Dottore raised his eyebrows, albeit knowing neither of you could see the action anyway. 

He ignored Iota and drew closer to the bed, taking a seat on the opposite side of the mattress that Epsilon had been sitting on as he observed you. You looked exhausted—your eyes looked heavy and tired, they didn’t have the same spark in them that they had earlier in the night, and the blood from the scratch marks on your was smeared messily, staining your skin and dress. 

Irritated, Dottore wondered why Epsilon hadn’t cleaned it up, pulling out a cloth from his jacket pocket and shifting a little closer. He grabbed your arm first, ignoring that tingling sensation as it reappeared as soon as the pads of his fingers were pressed against your bare skin, and especially ignoring the red thread tied around your finger. 

He could feel your eyes on him as he carefully wiped away the blood, distantly noting that Iota had shimmied out from behind you and was darting to the opposite side of the room. 

“He will not bother you again,” Dottore finally said, sparing a look to the side as Iota approached from the side, this time with bandages. He eyed the boy curiously, wondering if this room was one of the places he fled to those rare times he was stuck in the palace and got overwhelmed by the amount of people. Iota turned his head away pointedly and Dottore just shook his head, taking the bandages and wrapping them neatly around your wrist and forearm. 

You didn’t respond to him and Dottore glanced up at you, waiting for you to say something. You looked away, Dottore bit back an irritated sigh, tying off the bandage and moving a bit closer to look at your face.

“Thought they just called you a doctor for the irony,” you snipped half-heartedly, keeping your eyes averted as his fingers grabbed your jaw, turning your head to the side to see just how deep Theta had cut you.

Dottore let out an amused puff of air. “They do,” he drawled, “but I’m usually presented as one to acquire more willing test subjects. I must at least know the basics.” 

You gave him a withering look from the corner of your eye, bottom lip pushed out. He was grateful for his mask hiding the way his gaze lingered on it, focusing back on the scratch marks. They weren’t too deep but he didn’t have an ointment with him to spread over them, so instead he just pressed the handkerchief to the skin, cleaning up the blood.

“What are they?” you asked, eyes steeled for an argument. 

Dottore sighed heavily, considering briefly trying to avoid the subject but you did not seem keen on letting this slide and he was not in the mood for an argument. He wanted to get this done and get out of your room as soon as possible, even if his body was betraying him by allowing his fingers to linger on your cheek as he wiped away the blood. 

“They are me.”

Concise and to the point, as he always was, Dottore waited for the explosion of questions and demands to come from you but you only stared at him, studying him. Again, Dottore was grateful for his mask because he did not like the way he felt beneath your gaze.

“How?” you finally questioned. 

“Experimentation,” Dottore said dryly, your eyes narrowed as if that was an obvious answer. His lip unconsciously pulled up into a smirk. “I was able to isolate and extract my consciousness at specific periods of my life after years of study into-”

“Irminsul,” you finished for him, voice little over a breath and eyes darting down to your forearm. 

Dottore’s lips pressed into a thin line, watching you carefully—he did not like that, or did he? A part of him was impressed that you’d managed to put it together so easily just from the little he said and the words that had been transcribed to you through the bond. But on the same note, he thought that the fact that the bond had given you enough words to so easily string together how he had gone about his research was unnerving. 

Not for the first time since the bond appeared, Dottore felt distinctly violated. 

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Study into Irminsul. All I had to do was create vessels for the consciousnesses after extracting them.”

“And they are… you?” 

You were looking at Kappa with a different expression now, Dottore couldn’t figure out what it was but it made him uncomfortable, vulnerable. There was a reason why he made sure to keep all of the younger segments far, far away from people. Dottore let his hand drop back to his lap, folding the handkerchief and placing it back in his pocket. 

“Yes.” His voice came out colder and sharper, and you caught the change in tone, looking up at him quickly with furrowed brows. “I’ll be taking them back to the labs.”

You didn’t look pleased, frowning as you looked down at Kappa, who was still fast asleep. Behind Dottore, Iota let out a noise of protest but Dottore only had to turn his head to the side to stop the boy from speaking his complaint out loud. 

“So what? You’re just going to leave again?” you asked harshly.

“Did you think I was going to stay?” he quipped back, sarcasm dripping from his words. “That you and the younger segments and I were just going to be one happy family?” 

To your credit, you didn’t look too perturbed by the harsh words but he knew it affected you, if the way your grip tightened on Kappa had anything to say about it.

“You can’t just keep me here,” you spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m not-”

“You’ll find that I can do whatever I want,” Dottore corrected, rising to his feet. 

You didn’t hesitate, shifting Kappa down to lay on the bed next to you as you moved forward, fingers wrapping around his wrist to hold him in place. A commendable effort, but all it would take was one quick snap of his wrist to free it from your hold…

But he did not snap away his wrist. As easy as it would have been, instead he just stood there, staring down at you, waiting for you to say whatever you wanted to say. He tensed as if to pull away but his body didn’t cooperate—he blamed it on the bond but he wasn’t so sure that was the case.

“I’m not done,” you said. “I have more questions.”

“Another time,” he dismissed, finally forcing himself to pull his wrist back. Again, he felt a strange void as soon as the pressure of your fingers was removed from him. “I’ve wasted enough time tonight.”

Wasted?

“Wasted?” you echoed his very thought, scoffing loudly before shaking your head. “You know what, I don’t really care. What I do care about is knowing what that energy was around Pantalone—what was that?”

Dottore looked at her steadily from beneath his mask. “That is none of your business,” he said coolly. “Do not go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong lest you find yourself a guest here forever.”

The look you gave him was nothing short of murderous. “As if I won’t be already,” you spat, rising to your feet to take a few steps closer to him after he moved away. Dottore remained rooted in place, looking down at you. “I will not be kept here like a caged animal.”

“Then maybe you should not act like one.”

“Excuse me?” Dottore’s words held no weight, but he did very much enjoy goading reactions out of you, watching as your face twisted in fury at the insult. “I came here for a reason, Doctor, and that reason was not to be imprisoned by you. I have information I need to find and one way or another, I will acquire it. You can either-”

“You will do as I say so long as you’re in this palace,” Dottore said, cutting you off by pinching your cheeks between his fingers and tilting your face up to look at him. “Just because we have a bond forced on us by Celestia does not make you untouchable, control that tongue of yours before it lashes at the wrong person. Once I get the information I want, I will consider getting you what you want. Then, we will never have to see each other again. Until then, you have reaped what you sowed and it is no one’s fault but your own that you were not adequately prepared for the consequences of your actions, do you understand?”

Just for a second, he watched as a helpless expression spread across your face, eyes glassy and lips pressed together tight as you stared up at him. His tongue itched to say something else but no words formed on it before you snapped your face out of his hold, looking away. 

“Get out.”

A part of him wanted to refuse just to be spiteful—was it spite? Or was it something else, that heavy feeling weighing at his chest? That was a question he was not ready to answer, so instead, he smiled thinly:

“Gladly.”

i promise they’re going to start warming up to each other soon more than just in their internal narration <.< soon as in very soon wait til you see the scene i have planned

RBS APPRECIATED!

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

HII!!! CAN U GET A FLUFFY ONESHOT WITH DOTTORE(WEBTOON VER) PLSSSS.... like he has a huge soft spot for you but REFUSES to acknowledge it when ppl ask... and he can never stop staring at reader IDK im down horrendous for him

Stay

Dottore (webtorre) x Reader

Of course you can. Thanks so much for requesting something from me it rlly means so much you're my fav person rn😭🖤

I'm just calling him webtorre so hopefully that's fine.

Tell if you like it or not 😋

_____________________________________________

You've been Dottore's lover for a while now so of course you're allowed to wander around the lab since he gave you special permission to. Obviously in the lab it would be impossible not to meet his clones. They're everywhere, lots of them. You've met segments that look identical to him, segments in his Akedemyia days and even segments that are children

In your opinion though your favorite segment is when Dottore was in his early fatui days. This version of Dottore has gained your affections quite easily and if you're not with Prime everyone's second guess is him. His name is supposed to be Theta but you gave him a nickname, Webtorre. He pretends to hate it though.

You love Webtorre very much. He's much more wild in terms of Prime, but he's quite funny. He has this "hee hee, ho ho" laugh and it makes you giggle every time at his sharp toothed smile.

You find that he's quite affectionate too, in more strange ways that is. Often, you notice that if you're in the same room with him, he can't stop staring at you. If you ask he'll say you're being delusional but you know that those beautiful, red eyes have been locked on you the whole time.

Throughout harbinger meetings, or while you roam the lab. There is always a pair of eyes on you. Webtorre loves to look at you. He won't tell anyone else that not even you, his darling. However he just can't seem to drag his eyes away. You're not stupid you know he's burning holes into you but you don't say anything.

Believe it or not you like his staring. How he can't look away even if he wants to. He gazes at you like you're the most important thing to him and you love it.

You love the way his attitude changes from you compared to other people. To other people Webtorre is a terrifying segment of Dottore. Who experiments on people and tortures them just for the fun. Webtorre shows ill intent or aggression to other people, but never to you. Never you.

He looks at other people with angry eyes and furrowed brows, or a look of intrigue because he plans to dissect them. Not you though. When he looks at you it's the literal definition of "his gaze softened".

Webtorre is quick to deny the claims that he has a soft spot for anybody, much less you. Waving the claims away, but if anyone were to take a chance on you because of his denial? You'll find that the person has gone missing and you might even find parts of them in jars the next day.

So while Webtorre does deny the claims and rumors, everyone knows not to touch you, much less look at you unless they want an angry harbinger in their path.

**********************************************************

You let out a big sigh, slumped on Prime's office desk. He's left for some big mission again. Which leaves you here alone and bored. What do you do when you're bored? Bother Webtorre.

So that's what you do. You wander down halls and rooms looking for him. The lab is actually quite large and branches off to even more places, you often get lost. You open a door to a smaller lab and finally spot fluffy blue hair.

"Webtorre! I've been looking for you my love, are you busy?" You say in a sing-song voice and walk over to him.

He grunts from his seat, "Of course I'm busy" but he pats his lap anyways, demanding that you sit with him. And who are you to deny? You slide on to his lap and lie your head on his shoulder. He's always acting like such a grump but he never denies you of anything.

You shiver from the lab's AC. Even though you're in the freezing winters of Snezhnaya, Webtorre loves keeping the rooms cold. He's quick to move his coat around you though so you can warm up. He doesn't need it, he has his own heat source. His heat source is lumped in his lap right now.

You yawn and shove your face into the crook of his neck, while he scribbles away in a notebook. It's an early morning and you're still sleepy. Webtorre smiles and shows his sharp rows of teeth. "Tired, my love?"

When you nod he starts rubbing his hand through your hair. "Then sleep, I'm not moving anytime soon."

You hum and close your eyes. You could use some sleep but you enjoy just relaxing here. Plus it's hard to sleep when you can feel his gaze locked on you, and when he's playing with your hair. You enjoy it though so you say nothing to halt his actions.

It's not until another presence walks in the room that Webtorre goes back to being a grump. He doesn't push you away or anything he just goes back to his huffy-puffy attitude. You smile to yourself and keep your eyes closed.

"Oh? Look at you Theta. You're getting soft, I see" you hear Pantalone's voice tease. He takes a step closer to you but is quick to take a step back when Webtorre's eyes snap to him.

"I'm not going soft, they fell in my lap" he huffs and looks back at you. It is undeniable how his gaze softens though. "Don't call me that, my name is Webtorre you incompetent oaf" you fight off a giggle.

"Don't be so polite, Webtorre. That one is always clinging to your side... Or maybe it's the other way around?" Pantalone chuckles raising his hand to his mouth.

"I don't cling to anybody, idiot. You're a blind fool if you think that's what's going on. Obviously they're the ones clinging to me" he rolls his eyes. "It's not your business anyways, get out before I put you on a lab table" Webtorre snarls.

Pantalone laughs but he leaves anyway. You are trying to hold yourself together so you don't start having a giggling fit into his neck. Webtorre isn't dumb though he knows you're awake.

It's amazing how fast his claws are put away and he stops his hissing. "Oh, what's so funny my dear?" He smiles and grips your waist.

You hum tapping your lips, "I think we cling to each other don't you think?" You tease him and look up at your lover's face.

"Ugh you're just as dumb as Pantalone, be quiet and go back to sleep." He huffs and tries to shove your face back into his neck.

You laugh, knowing he's just trying to hide his blushing face. "Noooo, you cling to me just as much Doctor" you giggle, and start giving little pecks to his face.

Webtorre groans and stares at you, "... Maybe" he grumbles. He pulls you closer against him and fixes his coat back on you. "Now shut up and sleep before I kick you out" you giggle but willingly lie back down into his chest. You know he would never push you away. You're his darling after all.

__________________________________________________

I hope it isn't too short and I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

[7-penguins-eat-icecream]

Dr Ratio as one of Dottore's segments fic idea

Random ass idea, i know, but hear me out: AU in which dr ratio is one of il dottore's segments who escaped into the HSR verse and was adopted by a couple in veritas prime

This idea was mainly created from a desire for a genshin x hsr crossover, but also because of how different these two scientists are. And i really love breaking cycle of abuse themes and also nature vs nurture lol.

Also this post is already pretty long and I haven't even mentioned how it would affect his relationships with HSR characters lol (i may write a part two)

Thank you to @ies999 for hearing me out :P

One day, Dottore was bored and sick of looking at looking at his manky segments, eventually deciding to create his youngest segment who would be old enough to learn and independent enough to not require constant supervision (none of the segments want to be saddled with a child) but young enough to have a very different mindset from Dottore (I'm pretty sure this is the reason why he creates segments from different ages?)

Enter the newest segment, Theta, who is stuck at nine years old and the youngest of them all by decades. He is also a slightly defective clone, looking more like their biological mother with his warmer, orange eyes and slightly straighter hair. He's overly soft, too, and nobody knows whether they were all once so weak or if the new one just came out wrong.

Theta learns, adapts and observes. Eventually, he acts in the expected way and stops crying when the other versions of himself snap at him.

---

Anyway, so Theta (who would eventually rename himself Veritas Ratio) becomes the favourite child (not exactly something you want to be when you're around men Like That). Dottore is eventually like wow teaching is fun, sometimes, and proceeds to fuck him up entirely. Theta, on the other hand, is too young to really understand morals and values and how to separate himself from his creator. But even he knows that the day where he is no longer endearing to Dottore, nothing good will come out of it. He learns to give the answers that make Dottore smile at him rather than berate him.

The other segments like to gossip about the one who came before (Eta), who was the Akademiya segment and killed Sohre. Eta, when he came back to the segments, was weak and pathetic and guilt ridden. Naturally they disposed of him (why have such a liability and waste time wondering if that segment would defect when they'd all rather pursue knowledge, no matter what it takes.)

Even though Theta does not have the words to describe his fear, he makes up for it in being Dottore's little lab assistant, even if he's only passing the tools around and watching as Dottore dissects his newest patients. Dottore is a very good teacher.

---

"This is why you're my favourite," Dottore whispered theatrically, knowing that all the other segments would hear him. Theta wordlessly handed over the scalpel, trying not to shake as the other ones stared him down. "You're so obedient, unlike the others."

At those words, his nervousness faded and Theta smiled and Dottore smiled back, teeth sharpened but genuine. They all knew Dottore had a different smile he used on a daily basis. This one, however, was reserved just for Theta.

---

A connection between Theta and Scaramouche: both defective clones, both deemed too soft by their creators (only Theta is able to 'prove himself') and both of them are wary of Dottore but would never, ever admit it.

When Scara first meets Theta, he is disgusted by the sight of that man's facial features twisted into fake innocence. On the other hand, he has a soft spot for children. They kinda become friends (or rather, Theta would gladly call him his friend where Scara refuses to become close to another human, especially one of Dottore's segments). Scara is the one to tell him that he could defy his creator and become a separate person, albeit in a very roundabout way.

When Theta becomes Veritas, he dyes his hair the same shade of purple as Scaramouche's, desperate to separate himself from his creator and become closer to the only one who did not see him as an extension of Dottore.

---

Due to being raised in a very medical malpractice loving family, Theta initially has no moral compass and has difficulties empathising with anything, especially when anyone can see and deem him as a possible liability.

One day, something finally snaps in him and he vows to become the opposite of his father: to become a healer, rather than a scientist who puts his own thirst for anything and everything before healing. He calls himself Veritas, truth, because he wants to find out the truth of his existence - was he doomed to become just like Dottore? Could he ever find out who he was at the core?

After escaping and several years of therapy and a loving set of parents, Veritas learns about himself and realises that he's not just trying to be nice out of spite, but also because he actually wants to be a decent person. He eventually wants to become a teacher, and a scientist second. He also has a soft spot for ducklings and birds in general. (Even after all of this, a very large insecure part of him is absolutely terrified that he will become just like his creator.)

---

Extra notes:

Theta never aging both physically and cognitively (like the other segments), but I was toying around with the idea that the seal keeping him young is destroyed when Dottore gets rid of all of the segments. However, he would already be in another universe and only the seal is broken, he does not die. He gets a very strange case of heart failure that nobody can explain (and Veritas plans on keeping it that way.) when he is only "nine". Afterwards, he begins to grow and go through puberty then adulthood. He is paranoid about looking exactly like Dottore when he grows up, so he impulsively dyes his hair.

As a warning not to be annoying, the other segments just drag Veritas into an operating room and force him to learn biology through a very hands on method (dissection on another defective segment?). Baby's first science experiment yay!

How does he escape? Maybe he trips and goes to the abyss Childe style then takes a couple of detours into the HSR verse.

Manner of speaking: Dottore as casually cruel (like he will mess with you mentally just to see your reactions and uses his words as a weapon, even though most of it flies over Theta's head) and impolite, Vertias becoming blunt but not necessarily unkind, has a good sense of politeness and sometimes elects to ignore that.

Effects of living Like That: idk Theta constantly keeping tears at bay at the beginning only to later become laser focused on his survival by hiding away any type of emotion. So numb that the kindness of his new parents and Professor Rond scare him more than mind games - at least he knows Dottore and how he works.

Names: i just think that it's funny how Zandik means heretic. Even more connections between Scara and Veritas throwing away their old names and identity too.

Medical malpractice time! Maybe Theta saw and helped out in some of the Eleazar experiments, unable to really understand what he was doing from an emotional perspective. Seeing that the other children were less likely to struggle with another child with them, Dottore encourages Theta to spend time with them, luring them into a false sense of security. (Dottore never gives a clear answer when Theta asks where his new friends went.)

[voidarchivefiles]

Lucid dreaming for the void state

So this post is inspired by this success story which mentioned using lucid dream binaural beats to induce a lucid dream and then enter the void through there. Shout out to @gorgeouslypink for introducing lucid dreaming as a method to enter the void and popularising it with her Lucid dreaming void post and FILD Challenge! I went through some success stories and tagged the ones that entered via lucid dreams and there's currently 9 with 2 more in the queue.

Anyway, that success story never linked what they used so I was curious and searched on youtube and found this, a 1.5hr lucid dreaming induction track, released 11 years ago and has 3.6m views. If you read the comments, there's many people who successfully had lucid dreams from it! Basically you wear headphones and listen to the track as you fall asleep and it will hopefully trigger a lucid dream while you're sleeping.

From the video description:

Listen to this audio AS YOU FALL ASLEEP, and after you have developed the habit of performing constant 'reality checks'. Remember, this is a tool, and not a magic formula. ;) Headphones required for binaural beats to work This lucid dreaming induction is a variation of the original i-dreamer. Improvements: a more gradual descending-step-sequence (alpha to delta) to induce sleep. Quieter and more frequent affirmations. Refined gamma peaks (40hz). The first 65 minutes will entrain you to a deep delta sleep using a descending binaural frequency + various water sfx. The remainder consists of a low-theta wave to help transit your mind into REM sleep. During this segment I have recorded various affirmations to help trigger a lucid state: "You are dreaming" "Do a reality check" "This is a dream" "You are taking control of your dream" Within the theta-wave are various 4-5 second long peaks peak at 40 Hz. ("...an EEG machine recorded frequencies in the 40 Hz range in lucid dreamers enjoying a bit of conscious REM...")

The channel has a playlist of lucid dream induction audios but the one I linked above is the most popular one. They seem to be different though so it's good to have options if you want to experiment a bit.

Of course there's numerous ways to induce lucid dreaming and this is just one possible way. I recommend checking out @charmedreincarnation and @themanifestingbrat's lucid dreaming guide if you want to learn more, there are a few successful anons who used her guide!

Just sharing this in case it helps someone!