#dottore looking @ versions of himself

[poliodeuces]

dottore doodles

[theslumberinggod]

Boredom and Denial (Oneshot)

Summary: Scaramouche visits his greatest source of entertainment: You, and vehemently battles with feelings he'd rather not have.

Pairing: The Balladeer (Scaramouche) X Reader

•~°~•

A bored Balladeer was a dangerous Balladeer. This was a common known fact amongst anyone who were (unfortunately) acquainted with him. When one lives for so long life gets mundane fast, and when you're already disillusioned from life and filled with enough rage to fuel entire factories, you get a tempermental Harbinger known as Scaramouche.

There was an uncomfortable lull in the Fatui's efforts, leaving The Balladeer to fend for himself as his "coworkers" were engrossed in their own things (not that he particularly cared for their company anyways) and Il Dottore was currently otherwise occupied.

All spent on terrorizing his underlings The Balladeer waltzed out of his current place of stay into the eternal winter of Snezhnaya. This pathetic little town had one thing that might cure his boredom.

You.

You were an agent for the Fatui of some high ranking, mostly because you were highly skilled in a specific category. The Regrator valued you as an agent. As for what your skills were and why The Regrator fawned over you (the man's obsessiveness, faux, dramatic or real about everything was obnoxious...) Scaramouche did not know nor care. He only knew and cared that you were less boring than anyone else and conveniently nearby.

As for why it was you he sought out---Scaramouche knew why, but he didn't entertain the reason in the slightest. There was no room within his mechanical makings for anyone else but himself and his divine, unjustly withheld destiny. He told himself this repeatedly, you were just a means to an end. Another pawn, just like he, a tool, and today, an entertainer.

...and as for why Scaramouche knew where your private, personal residence was...he'd never tell.

Your house was rather nice. You had mora to spare, as one would working under Regrator and had plenty of years under their life. The house stood tall and strong in the cold weather, and despite the late hours lanternlight burned in the windows of what he knew was your study.

Walking up the past and tipping his hat to keep the blasted wind and snow out of his face, he didn't bother knocking. He just pressed a hand to the mechanical lock and sent a jolt of Electro, eyes flashing with the godly power and frying the lock instantly.

He kicked the door open, reeling in delight when he heard you yelp from your study and knock something over with a resounding crash. He then slammed the door shut with enough force to shake the house and mockingly called, "Honey, I'm home!"

He brushed snow off his shoulder but didn't bother wiping his boots. All little things to annoy you, to fire you up. He wanted to see how far he could push you. Whereas with those under his command he could be violent, with you he could not lest he face more trouble than what is worth (or so so he told himself that was the reason), so every other method it must be.

You appeared in the doorway, sword in hand, paintbrush in the other. You wore a apron over your fine clothes, smeared with colorful paints and your hair done up to keep out of your face. If you didn't look positively disorderly some older version of Scaramouche's self might've thought you looked charming in some ridiculously endearing way, but alas he was man with ambition tonight and completely overlooked it.

You lowered your sword when you spotted the Harbinger, raising a brow, candle-lit eyes trailing over to your ruined door. Satisfaction creeped into him when you noticed it, but it was destroyed when you shrugged.

"Ah, the esteemed Balladeer." Adding insult to injury, you grinned at him as if he were an old friend, bowing courteously before rising and setting aside your blade, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"None, little bird." The Balladeer tilted his head as he stared at you, already concocting another way to get under your skin, "Aren't you supposed to be working? Or are you entertaining that meaningless hobby if yours again?"

"Oh no, I'm on vacation," You say with a hum, "Would you like to see what I'm working on?"

"What? No, I didn't come here to entertain yout meaningless pass time," He rolled his eyes.

"Alright then. How about some tea? Or perhaps..." You paused, squinting your eyes in a harmlessly scrutinizing gaze he was not used to but was used to getting from you, "Your eyeliner is smudged."

"What?" The Puppet narrowed his indigo eyes, and turned to look in the ornate mirror you had hanging on the wall. Indeed, in some of his earlier attempts to quell his boredom he had smudged his carefully done eyeliner. "What about it?"

"I can fix it for you," You say with a small, mischievous smile as you dare take a step closer and muster the audacity to wave your still-wet paintbrush at him. You were too close, close enough if you were flick it you'd get the bright red pigment all over him.

"Absolutely not!" He made a shooing motion. "Don't you dare come at me with your blasted paints unless you'd like to loose hand. I came here for some tea."

You laughed, oh, oh it was a horrible sound. It grated on his ears and made his hollow chest fill with something warm.

"Alright then! One cup of bitter tea for the Balladeer," You hummed to yourself as you began to walk off towards the kitchen.

He followed you, turning up a nose and laughing in mockery when he noticed your new decorations from your recent venture to Liyue, "Seriously? Those curtains? You must be kidding."

"The Regrator said the same thing," You shrugged nonchalantly as you entered your spacious kitchen to prepare some tea.

"What was the Regrator doing here?" The Balladeer snorted with a cheerless smile, suddenlyhaving the irrevocable urge to find the Harbinger and rip his throat out. "Did he waste time looking at your 'fine arts?' Or to chew you out for slacking off again?"

"Just a business meeting," Again, a nonchalant answer. Could he not say anything to make you upset? What was wrong with you? Or perhaps you were just good at hiding your feelings. Yes, that must be it. Some mortals were terribly good at it and boggled his mind. He could not imagine keeping his rage to himself nor stooping so low to do so. "The man can talk for hours."

"Abyss, don't get me started on that obsessive fool's ramblings," Scaramouche let out a huff purely to exaggerate his distaste for the man. He watched you prepare your tea, and dragged out a seat loudly, and sat down. He took his hat off and tossed it aside, and rose his feet on the table, his muddy shoes marring the nice surface.

You glanced over your shoulder as you set the kettle on the stove, "Mind taking your feet off the table? It's new, you know. Wood from Sumeru, made by carpenter in Liyue."

"I would mind, in fact," Scaramouche stated, draping an arm over the back of the chair and leaning, precariously balancing the chair on it's two back legs. He tilted his head back and halfway closed his eyes in a look of deceitful relaxation, "The walk here was arduous and my feet need a good rest. You'll be a good host, won't you and allow me that? I came all the way here just to see your pathetic little self."

You leaned against the counter and chuckled, "Oh, I didn't realize you walked so far, Balladeer! Yes, yes the five minute walk from the Fatui strong house to here is quite exhausting. The paved roads are slightly uneven, and the wind is slightly blowing, and the mostly clear skies are blinding with stars and the occasional gust of snowflakes. Of course your tired."

Scaramouche's eyes widened in disbelief at your words and tone. He laughed in indignation as he drew his feet of the table and gripped the edges with a hand, nails digging into the side and leaving purposeful indents.

"Pardon me? You dare use that tone on a Harbinger? I outrank you, little bird."

"I'm well aware, you remind every time you visit," You smiled brightly again, infuriatingly indifferent to his threats.

Everytime you visit, oh, you acknowledged it---the frequency in which he showed his face in this sorry place. He shoved the thought away.

"And I'll remind you again, brat. You're begging to be thrown out a window," Scaramouche rolled his eyes, "How does Pantalone even put up with your behavior?"

"Well, for starters, he doesn't," You turn and fill a cup with steaming, bitter tea. "Thus, sarcasm is reserved for you, esteemed Balladeer. You make funny face when I do!"

"You little worm! I'll remind you again--"

You laughed (it didn't sound like music at all, he tells himself), and worked your way around the table, on the opposite end and Scaramouche would mentally cheer and find some satisfaction of the silent display of weariness, but you were out the door before he could gloat! With his tea! And he knew you physically couldn't tolerate what he liked (and he would not acknowledge he visited enough that you kept it in your cabinet) so what?!

He grabbed his hat and stalked after you, electro crackling and throwing the lights out. He watched you peek around the corner of the hall that led to your study, "Oh, you're coming! Come on, I need to show you something. It's neat!'

"I do not want to see the products of your stupid project, I want my blasted tea," Scaramouche demanded in a authoritive tone, but you simply looked him dead in the eyes.

"I know. Come get it, lazy-bum," You cackled as you dashed off, artfully keeping the drink from spilling over the edges. Scaramouche ran after, grabbing a vase off the nearby decorative side table, dumping the flowers and water out onto the plush carpet (oh he knew the flowers were expensive, that's why he grabbed it instead of the candelabra nearby) and following you with thunderous steps into your study.

Scaramouche's eyes were immediately assaulted with vibrant color, nose affronted with the smell of paint, and ears disgraced with the sound of orchestral music playing softly on a record player in the corner of your chaotic study.

Canvases ranging from small to large littered the walls and numerous easels, shelves and tables of paints and sketches were littered about. To the left of the easel facing the window (hiding the canvas from his view) was a knocked over bucket of thick black paint you had carefully stepped aside. You looked over at Scaramouche, eyes wide when you saw the vase.

He hurled it, grinding his teeth together when you deftly dodged. The vase shattered loudly into thick pieces on the wall, and you looked at The Harbinger with finally some sign of discontent.

"Aw," You say with a deep frown, "That was from Liyue."

"Oh boohoo," Scaramouche growled as he stalked closer, kicking aside the fallen paint bucket. "What are you going to---"

He stopped dead, now in view of the project you so desperately wanted to show him. Scaramouche took a few moments to register what he was looking at, and leaned back. "---what? This--eheha, ahahaha!"

There, on the large canvas, was him, the Balladeer. Painted in primarily black and red, ominous and daunting, the size of the canvas and the angle made him seem towering. He looked at you, bewildered and the fires of his ego thuroughly fed. You had the most annoyingly smug look on your face.

"What do you think?" You asked, tilting your paintbrush back and forth, "I can't quite get the eyeliner right, but I think the rest speaks to your character."

"It's...grand...ugh, why?" He demanded.

"Because," You shrugged. He glowered, unsatisfied and came to stand next to you and get in your face.

"That's a stupid answer, what's the real answer?" He demanded once more, and you grinned at him again. He loathed it. He loathed this stupid game, he loathed how his head reeled at the thought of you spending time with your head occupied with thoughts of him.

"Let me fix your eyeliner and I'll tell you," You bargain, the audacity! He looked over to the window to the right of him and seriously considered throwing it open and then throwing you out. Indigo eyes snapped back to the painting where you had clearly redone his face over and over. The whole painting really was wonderfully done despite it's unfinished paint. He could tell you had been spending a great deal of time on it. He loathed it. He loathed how his head reeled at the thought of you spending countless hours with your head occupied with thoughts of him.

"What in the name of the heretic gods? Why are you so fixated on fixing my eyeliner?" He raised a brow, then smirked wryly, "Why, you want to get close to me? Infatuated, perhaps?"

"Maybe. But, in all honesty, it's annoying! Your image is sullied by ruined lineart, let me be a good host--" You repeated his words back at him with a laugh, borderline mocking, "---and fix it for you."

"Gods, fine. Then tell me the answer to the purpose of your artwork."

Your eyes lit up, oh no! That was not the effect he wanted to have on you. He watched as you turned around, fishing a different set of paints and paintbrushes out of one of the many drawers in your study before turning back to him, holding a brush skillfully in hand.

"Alright, stay still," You say as you step into his personal space, the feeling immediately causing him to stiffen. Nonetheless, he rolled his eyes at your words.

"I know, don't coddle me." Scaramouche lifted a hand, pushing his hat back in mindfulness of the wide brim. He folded his arms as you lifted a cloth with your other hand to gently wipe away the smudged eyeliner.

And time slowed.

Your touch gentle and soft against skin that swords couldn't pierce, not pulling away at the crackle of electro that bubbled around his being like a bomb waiting to go off.

He could see the slightest furrow in your brow as you concentrated, the way your lips curved, every perfection snd imperfection on your face, the way lanternlight danced in your eyes, he could smell paint and you and you were so close.

You lifted your brush, slowly, skillfully painting on the red eyeliner. He suppressed a shudder as he felt your breath on his face, the cool paint doing little to ground him into reality.

Scaramouche, the Balladeer, the Harbinger who had done unspeakable things, had the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss you senseless.

It's lust, he screamed at himself. It's just lust.

He tells himself he doesn't want to cradle you in his arms gently, that he wanted to admit he liked how you kept tea for him, that he visited so often that he did, that you always let him in and insisted on dragging him closer, that he hated Pantalone spent more time with you than him, that he didn't want time to stop right here and now so he could live in your presence forever.

He told himself that you didn't feel like home.

That he didn't l---

You pulled away. The moment ended, and everything snapped back into focus and Scaramouche seized himself again, reminding himself of who and what he was and what he wanted and that it wasn't you.

It wasn't you.

"There!" You smiled, and it hurt to see. "All better, now, to answer your question--"

"I don't want to know," Scaramouche said with a harshness in his tone he hadn't intended but let out anyways. He reached, snatching the cup of now cold tea off the windowsill and downed it in one go. He caught a glimpse of your expression, some measure of confusion, dejection, and amusement. "I'll be leaving now. Stop wasting your time on painting, you have better things to be doing, you know."

He walked out, fuming as you chuckled incredulously to yourself with a shake of your head.

As The Balladeer walked back into the night, the eternal cold, he glanced over his shoulder. There you were, standing in your study window, and when your eyes locked you smiled and waved. He reached down and balled up snow, hurling it at your window with the might of a defyed god, the storm-proof window deflecting the hit.

He could hear your shriek, and riotous laughter as he stalked away.

He hated you.

•~°~•

A bored Wanderer was a troublesome Wanderer. This was a common known fact amongst all those in the Akademiya. When one has lived for so long and has repeatedly been kicked down in the dirt, ambitions made null and filled with enough rage induced disillusionment to fuel entire hurricanes, you get a mischievous assistant of Lesser Lord Kusanali known as The Wanderer.

The Wanderer strolled out of the House of Daena with a indifferently bored look in his eyes, having just finished proving the same argument wrong for the fifteenth time in the span of a month.

Nahida would probably chew him out later but it was her fault for giving him so little to do. For some wild reason, the God of Wisdom thought it wise to give The Wanderer a painfully empty schedule, leaving him with too much free time on his hands.

The upside was that Wanderer had less obligations, meaning less mandated interactions with mortals.

But this also meant more time occupied with his own thoughts, staring into sunsets and mulling over things he could never change.

So, entertainment via terrorizing the students in the Akademiya it was!

His next target was ahead of him, walking leisurely down a shaded path, admiring the emerald green foilage, the birds chirping. Things The Wanderer has seen a thousand times, things that lost their savor long before his previous incarnations snapped.

Judging by the uniform they wore, they were a new student. Perfect!

"Your class starts in ten minutes, you know," The Wanderer smoothly approached the student. "You wouldn't want to be--"

They turned. It was you.

Same eyes, same hair, same face, barely changed a day. There was a hardness in your eyes mixed with the luminance of the sun, a reminder of lantern light and the smell of paint.

All other questions he had disappeared, and he wanted to laugh. What were the odds, the cruel twists of so called fate, the ire judgement of gods---did he happen to see you again after everything?

"Ah, you must be the esteemed 'Hat Guy' I've heard so much about!" You smiled warmly, as if greeting an old friend, and it hurt knowing he was and you didn't know but you were just being You. You held your hand. The Wanderer's gaze trailed over new scars, stains of paint and charcoal from a hobby you clearly never let go of.

"....Yes, yes I am. And you are?" The Wanderer automatically replied, and took your hand reluctantly with longing he could barely keep inside. It was like a jolt of lightning through his system when his hands met your, and time slowed.

You may have forgotten him.

But he hadn't forget you.

He hadn't forgotten that he loved you.

[ikaroux]

How are they with their pregnant partner? Itto, Heizou, Lyney.

Synopsis: Pregnant, your husband/partner is over the moon. But how would he take care of you during pregnancy?

Style: Cute, fluffy, female reader.

Bonus NSFW (18+) I remind minors to avoid reading this kind of content.

Alert: May contain story spoilers for some characters.

Characters: Itto, Heizou, Lyney.

Note: Wow, it's been so long since I've written NSFW…. I'm a bit rusty.

Then I'll have to do Aether, Neuvillette and Wriothesley, as well as diving back into rewriting the old texts in this series. I'd also like to do Freminet… Let me know if you're interested in other characters.

Since I now have an AO3 account, I decided to rewrite the first versions of this series to post them on it. I hope you'll still enjoy them.

Part 1 Diluc, Zhongli, Kaeya, Xiao, Venti, Albedo, Kazuha, Childe.

Part 2 Scaramouche, Dainsleif, Thomas.

Part 3 Dottore, Pantalone, Alhaitham.

Part 4 Cyno, Ayato.

Part 5 Tighnari.

Part 6 Capitano, Kaveh + Bonus

"Ah?! A ba-baby!?"

Itto's reaction was surely overblown, yet the expression on his face was undoubtedly to die for. Mouth wide open, he stared at you in shock, taking a long moment before pulling himself together.

Bursting into laughter, he wrapped his muscular arms around you. "Ha ha ha! I've got to tell the Arataki gang! They'll be so happy to know that their leader will soon be a father! No, wait! I'll announce it to all of Inazuma! Let's have a big party! OYE! SHINOBU!" You hit him hard on the head, red with shame. 

"I forbid you to tell anyone until you're three months pregnant! Have I made myself clear?!" Your stern tone sent shivers up and down his spine. 

"Ah?! Why not now?" You sighed. You may have loved this man with all your being, but he was still exhausting your nerves.

"There's a high risk of miscarriage during this period, which is why I'm asking you not to talk about it... Please. Please." His expression slowly softened as his gaze dipped into yours. Again, he wrapped his arms around you more gently, tenderly kissing your forehead. 

"Understood, boss." You smiled, lovingly returning his embrace.

Itto's behavior during the pregnancy was so exemplary that the members of his gang, Shinobu first, wondered if he hadn't suddenly fallen on his face. He even went so far as to find "honest" jobs here and there to buy you maternity clothes and furniture for his future bedroom.

Your husband had the ingenious idea of consulting the high priestess Yae Miko for advice on your pregnancy... Peculiar. Itto knew of no demon in his circle who had fathered a child with a human. His instincts warned him of the risks you could run with a half-demon baby. Miko will make sure you're taken care of by a midwife who knows the oni world.

You felt terribly ill during your pregnancy. From beginning to end, your vomiting and discomfort drove Itto crazy with worry. You could see him running around looking for anything that would make you feel better. If you were vomiting, Itto would stay with you, stroking your back until it passed. If you felt dizzy, he'd lift you into his arms and sit you on his lap, rocking you gently until you felt better.

Often, you could see your companion admiring you with a blissful expression. "Why are you looking at me like that?" you'd ask him every time, knowing perfectly well his answer. You loved hearing him repeat the same passionate, loving words to you. "I just think you're beautiful. I can't take my eyes off you. Héhé." Itto always had this little blush on his face when he admired your rounded belly. Really, pregnancy made him much softer and more considerate than usual.

You didn't like people touching your belly just because you were pregnant. And it took you a long time to accept that Itto would do it without you grumbling. Yet it was his childlike smile and the stars in his eyes that gradually made you accept the situation.

Itto would often talk to his baby, telling him how his day was going or stories about the oni clans. You could only listen, rolling your eyes as he combined words with gestures. Even so, you couldn't resist stroking your companion's imposing hair, smiling tenderly as you watched him.

When your belly is rounded enough to be visible even from several meters away, Itto will make a habit of always kissing it, amused by the baby's kicks that would distort your belly. "HAHAHA this child will be big and strong, just like his father!"

It was quite amusing to see your companion preparing for the birth of your child, taking crash courses with a few women from your village. Shinobu was obviously making sure that his boss used the right gestures to calm a child's cries, change its diapers or properly hold its baby in his arms.

As expected, the delivery was difficult. Giving birth to a half-demon child demanded a strength your human body didn't possess. Blood loss made you wince and Itto thought for a moment he was going to lose you both. But you showed exemplary strength, and the support of your companion, as well as that of the high priestess, enabled you to pass this difficult ordeal. Your baby's cries echoed through the room, and Itto wept loudly, clutching your hand to his cheek. His tremors and muffled sobs made you smile tenderly, as happy as he was that all had ended well.

Itto was speechless as he took his child in his arms for the first time. Was this little crying creature his baby? The one he'd seen growing in your belly? HIS child?! He was so tiny, so cute with his little scarlet horns barely visible on the top of his skull. Not quite knowing how to soothe his crying baby, you showed him the right way to rock him and... Surprisingly, Itto was extremely good at it...

Your tender oni is said to be a very protective and cheerful father. He wants his child to always see the world in a positive light. He'll sometimes be a bit too daredevil with him, earning your wrath. Fortunately for you, Itto will calm down over the years…

NSFW Bonus

"POUAH, I'm exhausted!" Itto dropped onto the bed, arms and legs spread wide as he let his heavy eyes close. "The Arataki gang gave it their all again today. Hehe, at least we're not causing Shinobu any more trouble!" Watching him out of the corner of your eye, you smiled slyly, striding towards him with hushed steps. The oni opened his eyes abruptly when he felt you climb astride his hips, your hands sensually massaging his bare chest. You'd always appreciated the firmness of his muscles, taking pleasure in exploring each of his curves to discover the most sensitive places he hid. Leaning over him, letting your chest, slightly swollen with pregnancy hormones, rest against his, you nibbled his lower lip. His eyes, immediately filling with desire, couldn't tear themselves away from yours. You could quickly feel your lover hardening beneath you.

"Do you still have enough strength left to care for your companion in need?" You mumble erotically in his ear, teasing his nipples with your fingertips. "I want it terribly~" Itto lifts his hips to meet yours, one of his hands positioning itself on your waist to rock you onto your back.

"Do you feel that?" His hand crept under your clothes, passing the band of your underwear to caress your femininity. "Héhé~ you're already soaking wet darling~ Is it being pregnant that puts you in the mood?" Without giving you time to respond to his comment, Itto enters two fingers deep inside you, making you cry out in surprise. He knew perfectly well where all your sensitive points were, pressing slyly on them to make you moan loudly. Your body sought to escape the delicious torture he was inflicting, his fingers aggressively penetrating you. "Don't awaken the beast in me if you don't want to writhe in pleasure under my ministrations." Itto was a completely different man when he had sex with you, his usually jovial face transforming into a darker expression as his desires got the better of him.

Pregnant or not, he was never one to go out of his way. Itto knew he was big, too big for you, and foreplay was always a mandatory step before he could implant his sex inside you. "Look at you, darling, your breasts are so big with pregnancy. I want to lick them terribly!" Itto grabbed one of your breasts between his lips, adding a third finger inside you as his free hand groped his pants to pull out his excruciatingly hard member. It was too much for you, and your back arched beneath him, your hips swaying to the rhythm of his fingers. You were so close, and seeing him caress himself while he fingered you made you come hard on his hand. Itto pulled away slightly you, leaning toward the other nipple he hadn't yet teased. "Not yet... Not until you can take four inside you." Damn, that damned demon!

Itto looked thirstier than you, his eyes glowing scarlet as he watched you cum with four of his fingers inside you, just as he'd promised. Sex with him had always been sport, but now that you were pregnant, everything seemed more intense. When he finally penetrated you, that damned demon took a malicious pleasure in watching you from all his height, holding your legs close to his hips as he pounded you rigorously. His eager eyes darted between your face distorted with pleasure, your swollen breasts bouncing with each of his hip thrusts and your slightly rounded belly.

Itto was a man of stamina, far more than anything you could take. So when you begged him to stop, the oni would comply at once, fear settling in his brain. Had he hurt you? Was the baby all right? None of the above... But you were clearly close to fainting. Itto, aware that he'd been a bit hard on you, will take care of your body, immersing you with him in a warm bath, his big hands massaging your shoulders. He won't be frightened to see you asleep in his arms, so, taking advantage of your sleep, your companion will cuddle you tenderly, one hand resting on your belly, lovingly caressing it.

"I'm going to be a dad? Really?"

You smiled tenderly, taking his trembling hands in yours. Heizou's gaze flickered between your eyes and your belly. A baby? You were pregnant?! His mind blurred as a vision of you with a round belly popped into his head. All of a sudden, the word dad sounded pretty good in his head... Kneeling in front of you, Heizou encircled your thighs with his arms, placing a tender ear close to your belly, a joyful smile on his lips. "I'm going to be a daddy... I'm going to be... Daddy!" Slowly, tears rolled down the cheeks of your companion, who had suddenly gone silent. Your hands were lost in his hair, cradling Heizou against you, feeling his tears stain your clothes. You waited patiently for him to calm down before kneeling down in front of him, wrapping your arms around his neck, your forehead resting against his as a gentle smile stretched your lips. Heizou closed his eyes, resting the palms of his hands on your cheeks, his thumbs lovingly caressing your skin. He breathed in your scent slowly, enjoying it more and more each day.

The two of you remained like this for a long moment, enjoying the tender silence that surrounded you. Images of your future life flashed through your minds. Heizou carrying your child in his arms, his gaze tenderly on him until that tenderness was directed at you...

Heizou was nothing but sweetness and tenderness to you. Even before carrying his child, this man never raised his voice at you or refused to take you in his arms. He loved to cuddle you, take care of you and listen to you. Sometimes, he would take you on his lap and listen to you affectionately talk about your future child, imagining your future life with him. You could sometimes see a dreamy smile stretch your companion's lips, as he imagined, just like you, this wonderful life.

Kazuha was a close friend of yours, so he was one of the first to be informed of your pregnancy. What a surprise when he knocked on your door, a gentle smile on his lips, holding your letter in his bandaged hand. "I've asked Beidou to make a little detour to come and see you. Congratulations, both of you." The two men weren't very tactile compared to you, who didn't hesitate to hug him in thanks. "Hehe, expect the title of Uncle Kazuha! What do you think Heizou? Sounds pretty good, doesn't it?"; "Pretty good indeed." Heizou replied, a warm smile on his lips. To tell the truth, Kazuha didn't mind and, in a way, was happy to know that a family would now be waiting for him back in Inazuma.

Your companion's job was a constant source of anxiety for you. The midwife had gently admonished you for this, reminding you that stress during pregnancy could be bad for you and the child. Heizou, who accompanied you that day, bowed respectfully to her, promising to do all he could to calm your anxieties. Obviously, you were feeling terrible as you left the surgery, crying your eyes out in your companion's arms. Heizou comforted you tenderly, murmuring words filled with love. After this episode, he promised you he wouldn't take any more potentially dangerous commissions for the rest of your pregnancy…

For a few weeks, you'd been practicing cooking for your future baby. Heizou was sort of your test subject, trying to create colorful and cute bento. He enjoyed it every time, looking forward to seeing what you had prepared for him. He loved the little octopuses you made with the sausages, or the animal-shaped onigiri. His favorite was surely the pink onigiri that strongly resembled a fox. He was sure you'd tried to imitate Lady Yae Miko in her yokai form.

Heizou was sitting comfortably on your bed, one hand tenderly caressing your scalp while your head rested on his thigh. You could feel his other hand warmly covering your six-month-old belly, occasionally enjoying the little kicks his child gave through you. Heizou's fingers had always had this magical effect on you, weighing down your eyelids as sleep slowly invaded. Heizou was happy to have you in his arms, confident and at peace, pampering and cherishing you. Your breathing was a soothing sound to his ears and the movements of his child against his hand, an affectionate warmth he loved to feel.

"Heizou, promise me you'll stay with me through the birth! The closer the fateful date gets, the more I'm afraid of what's going to happen..." Your companion took you in his arms, gently caressing the small of your back. "I promise I'll be there, from the beginning, until the end." His lips kissed your forehead, moving down your nose until they settled on your lips. "Together... Even if I end up with a crushed hand, I'll stay by your side." You laughed, hitting his arm without force. "Everything will be okay, Y/N... I love you."

Your companion managed your first contractions with impressive composure. He quickly took you to the midwife's office, insisting on staying by your side all the way, as he had promised. Your companion kept your hand in his, occasionally wiping your forehead with a cool cloth. He encouraged you all the way, worrying about your cries of pain. He knew it could last several hours, and seeing you suffer helplessly gave him a bitter taste in his mouth. Despite the context, he promised himself to remind you later of all the curses you'd shouted against him and the gods, while your mind was clouded with pain. He would surely have laughed if he hadn't seen the tears rolling down your cheeks…

Heizou remained silent for a long time, as he gazed with tear-filled eyes at his infant, comfortably ensconced in the crook of his arms. Sitting cautiously by your side, he finally dared to explore his child's chubby face, tenderly brushing his cheeks, nose and little lips. Curious, he placed a finger in the hollow of his palm, his little hand automatically tightening around it. Heizou let his tears flow, leaning gently towards his baby to kiss the top of his head, then towards you, lovingly claiming your lips.

Heizou will be a very warm and instructive father. He wants his child to be able to learn all sorts of things for himself, encouraging his curiosity and intellect. He will never be too hard or too strict with him, preferring to explain things several times rather than let him give up. He doesn't expect his child to follow in his footsteps, but he'll still be happy when he tells him he wants to become a great detective, just like him.

NSFW bonus:

You were naked, leaning over the bathtub to check that the water temperature wasn't too hot, completely oblivious to the olive eyes staring back at you with a brilliant gleam of desire. Heizou approached you, like a cat ready to pounce on its prey. His hand rested on your belly as his bare chest pressed against your back. You shivered as his teeth nibbled your earlobe. "You really are gorgeous..." He murmured sensually as his hands worshipped every inch of your skin.

"Hei-Heizou, you really are insatiable! We've already made love today! Twice!" You growl without any real motivation, your lover's hands slowly kneading your chest. You hear him giggle against your ear, pressing his hips against your buttocks.

"Is that a problem? I can easily guess you want this as much as I do..." That man and his damned intuitions! You quickly gave up the fight as Heizou sensually lowered one of his hands between your thighs, teasing your femininity with his fingers. "You're so wet already~ Is it pregnancy that's got you all worked up?" Heizou pinched your nipple as one finger penetrated you with ease, making you squeal against him.

"Stop teasing me for a moment! I need you..." You begged, your fingers encircling Heizou's wrist. Your companion breathed an amused laugh, withdrawing his hand from you to guide you to the bathtub. He didn't need to fight your desires, because after all... He wanted the same thing you did.

Heizou kissed you with tender passion, his hands resting on your hips helping to lift you onto his member. And as he pulled away from your lips to better admire you, seeing you gasp, head slightly tilted back and lips parted under the influence of pleasure swelled his heart with pride. He was the one who put you in this state... Singing his name as he touched all your sweet spots... You were so sensitive with pregnancy, it made him dizzy. He couldn't help it, he needed to see your flushed face, hear your moans of pleasure. Heizou had always enjoyed sex with you, but pregnancy made you so needy that he lost control…

It was so good to feel your hands in his hair, your body pressed against his with only your hips swaying on his shaft. Heizou loved breathing in your perfume, tasting your skin, having your little round belly against his stomach and your voice so close to his ear... Unable to take it any longer, Heizou helped you speed up the pace of your back-and-forth, making you cry out his name. He wanted to feel you cum, to have your walls tight around him. Heizou licked hungrily at your neck, grunting against you as he savored the tension rising in your abdomen, indicating that you were nearing your climax. And when, at last, you freed yourself from that merciless knot, squeezing his member in sweet, pleasurable torture, Heizou released into you. His heartbeat echoed in his ears as his hand tenderly caressed your back, murmuring soft words against your neck, feverish kisses wetting your skin.

Heizou will help you wash, towel and dress, taking you back to your room to rest... Until the next round.

"I'd really like to start a family with you, Y/N."

That's what he'd said to you one night, as he cuddled you in bed after a session of passionate lovemaking. How could you refuse him? You felt ready, and so did he.

A month later, when you were suffering from persistent vomiting and exhaustion, Lyney decided to take you to see a doctor as a matter of urgency. How could he not be concerned, seeing you in this state for over a week? And why didn't Lynette seem more concerned about your condition? He didn't have time to ask himself these questions. Your health was all that mattered to him...

"Congratulations, you're pregnant." declared the doctor with a big smile. Lyney, sitting beside you, remained silent, his eyes wide with surprise, unlike yours, which had a smile stretching to your ears.

As you left the practice, you walked quietly through the streets of Fontaine, Lyney at your side. He hadn't said a word since you left the office... And that began to worry you. Did he regret it? "Lyney... ?" Whereas up until now, your gazes had fled each other, you put aside the fear knotting your stomach to confront him... And then, as you turned to face him, you saw them... His tears streaming down his cheeks... "Lyney! Why are you crying?! Don't... Don't you want this child?" Suddenly he took you in his arms, embracing you warmly as his face hid in the hollow of your shoulder. "Y/N... I promise I'll do anything to make sure our child has a wonderful life! I swear it! I'll take good care of him. Both of you. You'll never want for anything! *snif *. Thank you, Y/N. I love you, mon amour. I love you so much." It was your turn to cry, the pressure knotting your stomach disappearing with his words. Your arms wrapped around his neck. Yes, you were going to build your own home. A home filled with joy and happiness...

Lyney would be surprised to see you so clingy with him. To tell the truth, it was usually his job to be clingy. You didn't want him to leave your side or take his hand away from your skin... Pregnancy made you very emotional, and only Lyney's smell, his presence, his warmth comforted you... He never complained, and to tell you the truth, he loved it. Receiving free hugs or feeling you curl up around him like a koala when you slept always made him smile stupidly.

He'd obviously let Lynette and Freminet know, although both seemed to have already guessed your condition... He was happy to see his family accept your pregnancy with such joy. His sister and little brother were very close to you and, like Lyney before them, promised to do everything in their power to make their nephew's/niece's life a wonderful dream.

Lyney would bend over backwards to meet your needs. Pregnancy made you very greedy and your desires were sometimes... Wacky. Why were you suddenly craving a bowl of soba, a dish that was only served at Inazuma? No matter! He would learn to cook it to please you...

When you became pregnant, you and Lyney were just engaged. Seeing that your belly was getting rounder, Lyney thought you'd look gorgeous in a wedding dress. And he wasn't wrong... On your wedding day, when he first saw you in it, the harmonious curves of your belly making you even more sublime, he froze in front of your beauty. You were beautiful, as bright as the sun, as soft as spring, as gorgeous as the rainbow rose. He could hardly believe that this incredible being would not only be his wife, but also the mother of his child.

"Lyney!" Your husband gasped as he heard your angry voice calling his name. Your mood swings had been quite hazardous since your pregnancy, and your husband's slightest misstep sent you into a tizzy. "I told you not to leave your magic accessories lying around the apartment! I'm not asking you for heaven!" Lyney was quick to apologize, immediately putting his things away. After that, he always knew how to make amends, kissing every part of your face, massaging every sore spot on your shoulders, whispering words of love to you.

He loved to make you sit between his legs, tenderly caressing your belly to feel his child against his palms. He loved having you against him, your hands resting tenderly on his to guide him to the places where you felt the baby move. The first time he felt it, he marveled as children do at his magic tricks. He wondered if he knew that the hands on his mother's belly were those of his father, or if he recognized his voice... And you were sure he did, because every time Lyney spoke to him to tell stories, your baby seemed to react, bubbling in your belly. "Hey, mon petit ange, do you know how Daddy managed to seduce Mommy? No ? Then let me tell you a story~... It all started with a rainbow rose..."

Since you were pregnant, you had learned to knit. Lyney was silently raving behind the back of the sofa where you were sitting, humming a few nursery rhymes while you finished your work. Leaning back on the backrest, his chin resting on his arms, Lyney admired you with loving eyes, listening to the sound of your voice while you remained oblivious to his gaze, too focused on the little socks you were lovingly knitting. At that very moment, Lyney felt blessed by the gods... You were a true blessing in his life.

At times, Lyney was filled with doubt. His childhood had been miserable, he had never known the love of a parent, only the cruelty of Men. The hearth had given him and his sister a home and a family, but even so, Lyney hadn't had a childhood. Would he really be able to give his baby a happy childhood? Would he be able to preserve his innocence? He had promised himself to be strong, as a husband, but also as a father. He often discussed this with you, exposing his darkest fears. You were his light, always finding the right words to illuminate his darkest thoughts.

You were nearing the end of your pregnancy, and the contractions were becoming more and more present. Lyney, tormented by your suffering, stayed by your side, keeping you upright and helping you breathe deeply to ease the pain. As soon as the contractions subsided, Lyney took the time to help you sit up, then took care of your belongings. You were close to delivery and it was out of the question for you to take care of anything while he was around. The midwife was already aware of your close contractions thanks to Lynette, and Freminet kept an eye on you, occasionally refreshing your sweaty forehead. As soon as he was ready, Lyney called a carriage to take you quickly to the Fontaine maternity hospital. It had, quite literally, become a family affair...

Although the birth lasted only four short hours, Lyney was heartbroken to hear your cries of pain. The pain on your face made him lose his mind, and even though your hand was crushing his, he paid it no mind - after all, his pain was nothing compared to yours. All he wanted to do was encourage you and pray for the best... He was scared... Although Fontaine's technology ensured that pregnant women were well cared for, tragedies could still happen. Finally, when he heard the baby's first cries echoing through the room, he allowed himself to breathe. Crying his eyes out, he kissed your forehead several times, hoping to convey all the love he felt for you. "Bravo mon amour, you did it. You've done it. I'm proud of you..."

The first time Lyney saw his baby in your arms, his eyes would fill with tears, bellowing how beautiful he was and how much he looked like you... Almost hesitating to take his baby in his arms, Lyney trembled as he became aware of the reality of this being so small, so fragile... His child. Stars shone in Lyney's amethyst eyes as a happy smile stretched his lips. Gently, he placed a kiss on his baby's forehead, promising that he would always be by his side and do everything in his power to protect him.

Lyney will be an exceptional father. He will look after his child with care and tenderness, using his magic tricks to make his child's eyes shine with joy. As he promised, Lyney will do everything to make your life beautiful. He was a loving, caring, funny and magical father and husband...

Bonus NSFW:

You heard the sound of a door closing, indicating that Lyney had just returned from his magic show at the opera. Abandoning everything you were doing, you rushed to the entrance to find him... No one. The living room perhaps? You quickly made your way there, finding your companion slumped in the armchair, admiring with a gentle smile the stuffed animal he held over his face. You had knitted it for your baby, modeling it on the amethyst-eyed cat he camouflaged in his top hat... Gently, you approached Lyney, gazing at his beautiful, moonlit features. When he finally noticed you, his face lit up as he lovingly whispered your name. His hand reached out to you, inviting you to sit on his lap. Your heart palpitated, happy to accept his attention. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen him all day, or maybe pregnancy and its hormones were making you feel unbearably lonely. Whatever the case, this sense of urgency led you to him at a run, your fingers curling tenderly around his.

"I've missed you, mon amour." Lyney helped you settle astride him, wrapping his arms around your waist. The warmth he radiated as he pulled you firmly back against his chest made you want more....

"I missed you too..." You whispered back to him, eager for his attention, wanting more than just a hug. You felt insatiable, on the brink. It had been weeks since you'd been thrilled by him, though the look in his eyes made it clear he wanted to claim you... Was it your belly that was stopping him? Had he built a wall between you and himself to prevent him from giving in to his deep-seated desires? Yet when he saw the need in your eyes, Lyney languorously moved one of his hands up to your hair, tracing a slow line down your back to your neck before following the path of your jaw. Once he reached your hair, he gently grabbed a tuft, bringing your face close to his, your lips brushing lightly against his. Aaaah~ You could already feel him hard against your groin…

"Y/N, if you look at me with those eyes.... I don't know if I could hold it in... But I don't know if it's wise for me to make love to you in your state, ma chérie... Tell me to stop if you don't want it to get out of hand..."

Grabbing his shirt, you closed the distance between you and his lips, kissing him with need, your hips pressing a little harder against his erection. You needed him as much as he needed you... Now!

"I asked the midwife about it... She said it was safe..." You murmur against his lips before diving back into your kiss. That man was so weak under you...

Lyney took the time to prepare you with his fingers, encouraging your hips that moved sensuously to the rhythm of his hand working you languorously. Your companion always went slowly with his foreplay, starting first with teasing caresses on your clitoris before inserting a finger then two between your walls. His thumb, which was not devoid of agility, massaged your swollen nerve, almost making you moan loudly into his neck. Lyney was never silent during your intercourse, even when he wasn't yet sheathed inside you, he felt a torturous pleasure just by hearing the sounds you produced under his ministrations... Your belly had taken on a few curves with the pregnancy, and Lyney took a malicious pleasure in caressing it with his free hand, whispering words of love to you.

"Y/N~ Seigneur... I love you, ma chérie. I love you both... When I think that you- Hm! - carrying my child... It drives me crazy! I don't know why- Ahh~ - it puts me in such a state!" His hips crushed your heart as he withdrew his fingers to unbutton his pants, freeing his painfully hard, engorged member. "If you weren't already pregnant, I'd make sure you were tonight!"

"Ly-Lyney!" You cried out in pleasure as he began to penetrate you inch by inch, making you tremble on top of him. It felt so good it made you dizzy.... Lyney clung to you, rocking your hips with his hands to help him reach the bottom. You were so tight around him that he was sometimes forced to stop to help you relax.

"Relax mon amour... I don't want to hurt you... Ah! You're tight!" When he finally reached the bottom, Lyney stroked your back limply, his face buried in the hollow of your neck. You were both panting, drenched in sweat and trembling. The clothes still on you were becoming suffocating and you had to pull away from him to get rid of your top and bra. As you did so, your eyes never left Lyney's, who mimicked your actions, throwing his own clothes away before pulling your face towards him. His tongue forced your lips open, tangling with need around yours. It was a sloppy kiss, fueled by the desire you had for each other. This simple fact made your lover far more needy, his member trembling inside you. No longer having the patience to wait, you slowly lifted your hips, leaving only the tip of his sex inside you, before moving back down to the guard... It was a languorous dance, where your breaths served as music. 

Lyney would move slowly, his member touching the deepest, most sensitive parts of your femininity. He'd manage to make you see the stars with so little effort, sometimes changing your position to sit in reverse cowgirl or simply tipping you gently over onto the living room table, legs braced on his shoulders as he sensually pounded you. Your pleas drove him mad, always asking for more... And by the seven, he loved it.

After your escapades, Lyney would make a point of carrying you to bed, cleaning you thoroughly with a warm towel and kisses lost on your skin. You quickly fell asleep under his gentle caresses, giving him the opportunity to whisper words of affection to your belly. His hands tenderly cradled your belly as he rested his head on it, feeling the slight movements of his little one.

[sweet-honey-fruit]

Hi !! Hope ur having a nice day/night and enjoying your time

I saw the event and would like to say congratulations on hitting 2k followers!!

As for the prompt i would like to ask for “lunar eclipse” with dottore

And if you dont mind id like for it to be with the webtoon version, if not then just prime dottore is fine !!

Thank you <3

Thank you so much anon!! Writing this with the mindset of Webttore was so much fun. It was a great way to start this event 🫶 I got carried away, I just love Dottore so much.

Prompt: Lunar Eclipse — Losing your virginity to them

Character/s: Webtoon Dottore

Tags: Afab reader, Webttore being a menace, a freak, just being himself. Degradation, praise, inexperienced and nervous reader, somewhat experienced Dottore, brief mention of masturbation, biting, vaginal fingering, clit rubbing, vaginal penetration, tit sucking, he gets a bit carried away towards the end but he’s talking you through it.

Into The Cosmos Event

Into the Cosmos Masterlist

“Why are you looking at me like that?” His hardened red gaze didn’t do much to ease your nerves. He was already stripping off his coat, mask long since discarded to show off his godlike features. He once stated, upon your first meeting, that his scientific curiosity drives him to make humans equivalent to that of gods. Yet with how diligently he pulls his gloves off with his sharpened canines, moving to elegantly unbutton his undershirt, you’re sure he has already achieved it without knowing. For he was as attractive as any archon.

“Are you going to answer my question or just ogle?”

“Isn’t that what people do during sex? Ogle?” You retort, hiding your nerves with a burst of feigned laughter. He showed no signs of amusement. He stays just as strict as usual when he’s strip-teasing. How odd.

Despite your poor attempt at saving face, it’s given away by how you tear your eyes away from his toned body as it starts to make its way over to your placement on the edge of the bed. His cold finger lifts your chin so you have no other choice but to make eye contact with him. The deep color keeps you hypnotized, locked on them as if he managed to put you in a trance. His finger on your chin moves to trace the edge of your jawline, reaching the end and pushing against the bone to turn your face to the side. His curious nature analyzes your shaky breathing, your heated skin, your nervous yet hungry glaze.

“Your attempt at deflection is pitiful. Tell me now if you want to stop, and we can go back to working in that desolate lab.”

“No,” You answer far too quickly, making him raise an eyebrow. His hand drops as you move your head to look at him straight on, “Please, I want this. I want you. I’m just scared.” You cringe at your statement. How could someone sound so pitiful during something that was supposed to be hot and erotic?

Dottore clicks his tongue almost to say he found the sentiment just as pathetic as you did. His hand shoves itself against your chest to shove you down onto the satin sheets. A gasp gets lodged in your throat as he crawls on top of you. He still has his pants on, and you half-wonder if that was an intentional choice to keep you from being too overwhelmed.

“If you want this, then, for starters, for once, stop thinking.” He growls out, keeping you pressed down onto the bed by your chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You start sarcastically, your hand grasping his wrist firmly. You go on to continue your attitude-fueled sentence when his lips crash against yours. Your grip loosens immediately, melting under the simple affection you two have shared numerous times. This one, however, feels more intimate than the previous ones. You kiss him back, letting yourself relax back into the silk pillows on the bed.

“Shut up.” He murmers into your lips, and damn do you shut up real quick when his kiss turns more fervent, when his hands trace the outline of your still clothed body. He presses his own body against yours, your breaths mingling together as one. It was sloppy, but passionate all the same. His lips leave your breathless ones, opting to kiss along your jawline and down to the sensitivity of your neck, goosebumps following in his wake.

The warmth of his lips was a stark contrast to the bitter cold of his hands — something that once felt intimidating now felt blissfully welcoming. It was embarrassing how soaked you already were. You could feel it pool in the fabric of your underwear and a small flicker of shame swells in the pit of your stomach. One of his hands pulls up your sleep shirt, breaking contact just for a moment to push it off. Your nipples perk up at the exposure of the bedroom air. Before you even had a chance to think about covering up, he sinks his teeth into the connection of your neck and shoulder. Your head tilts back, the pain melting away into a tingling, pleasurable sensation as it subsides.

His tongue flicks over the tooth indents to soothe it. He’s trying so, so hard to keep it slow and sensual. Believe it or not, he does have an inkling of nurture within him, but when the sweet scent of your sweat mixed with your signature perfume takes over his senses, he has to ground himself by roughly kneading the flesh of your mounds. All it makes him want to do is shove you down, push himself in, and fuck you senseless like the needy whore you are for him — he takes in a deep, shaky breath, leaving another bite mark on your throat and sucking on it. He wants to take his time. He wants your first time to be relatively calm, to show you how great intimately connecting with one another can be. It’s all a lead up to be allowed to show his more primal nature later. Patience is key, and he shall wait however long.

His fingers pinch your nipple, rolling it between his digits, and it forces a sweet moan past your parted lips. He feels his pants strain at the sound. So beautiful. A guttural groan rumbles from his chest in response, his body weight pressing more onto you. His lips follow the salty taste of your body down to the valley of your breasts. Your body remains stiff, hands at your sides as the subtle lingerance of confusion mingles with the bliss he’s eliciting from you.

As if he were reading your mind, which he probably was, given how hyperanalystic he is — his free hand grabs your right wrist, guiding it to his hair. Just as his mouth wraps around your erect nipple, your hand entangles itself in his hair. Your back arches to seek out more of the desirable sensation as he sucks. A tingle shoots down your spine and meets the heat between your legs. Sure, you have masterbated before, and sure you have been turned a little needy from previous makeout sessions, but not once have you ever felt this soaked. Not once have you ever felt a visible ache in your very core.

His hand guides itself down to the area you’re most terrified of him viewing. Your heart quickens as his fingers catch under the rim of your shorts. His lips detach with a soft ‘pop’, coming back up to kiss your lips uncharacteristically gently. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours and keeping his hazy eyes on yours.

“It’s fine.” It was a ghostly whisper, a reassurance that is rare from him. You two have been together for so long, since the Akadaymia days, that while most people would’ve found his rushed words disheartening, to you it helped you relax upon seeing the sincerity in his persistant stare. You swallow your nerves the best you can. With a firm nod from you he grasps the edge of your shorts and underwear and pulls them down.

He sits up, biting his lip as he sees how you’re practically glistening. A string of arousal connects your core to your panties. It breaks once he fervently pulls everything off, sticking to your inner thigh. He has to bring the back of his palm to his mouth to suppress an anticipated moan. Truthfully, he has never been this hard before. Late night lab research once made him turned on from the mere amount of stress that was pent up, sure, but this? Seeing his inexperienced lover so eager for him to the point they’re soaked through just from some simple foreplay. All it did was boost his ego and make his cock twitch.

The hungry look in his eyes as he stares between your legs made a rise of embarassment boil up, your skin becoming overtly heated.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You chide, mimicking his dialect. He lets out a huff of air, gripping your thigh and spreading your legs open.

“Because, my dear, you look so delectable right now, all wet for me.” He said, practically purring as he slides his finger up between your folds. You gasp at the sensation, his words forcing you to instinctively cover your face with your hands.

You stumble over your words before finally pushing out a muffled, “don’t be so blunt with it!”

He laughs, and you want to retract yourself fully into the plush mattress. But when the warmth of his hand meets your wrists to pull your shielding hands away, that feeling vanishes. Something about the deep-seated love that he’s looking at you with right now, mixed with the red blush on his cheeks and the tiniest of wet spots on his pants, to show he’s just as a mess as you ground your soul.

“My dear, being blunt is part of the fun.” Even his teasing tone allows your body to relax, because that’s what you’re familiar with, and he knows that’s what you need right now. His eyes still locked with yours, he slips a digit into your slick folds. You moan quietly at the feeling foreign to your own. His skilled finger pumps inside your tight, gummy walls with diligence. Every thrust of his fingers stretches you out further, building a tension within the pit of your stomach. The sensation leaves you breathless, faint whines and moans leaving your parted lips. He’s growing addicted to these reactions from you, his mind running to just how he can get even more out of you.

With a teasing grin, he slips in another finger, your hips bucking up in response.

“Oh fuck,” You mumble, sinking further into the mattress as the tension leaves your body. The pleasure gradually increases. Building up, and up, and up and oh fuck he presses his thumb against your clit. Your mouth hangs open, but no sounds come out. That tension finally breaks along with the flood of moans and scrambles of his name. Your hips grind down against his to ride out the high, gushing around the digits. His eyes stay locked on his hand as he pulls out, watching the slick slide down to his palm. They flicker back up to look at your blissed-out expression, testing the waters on just how much shame has vanished from your mind. The fingers that were once inside you tap your lips.

“Open,” and to his surprise, you hang your mouth open eagerly, tongue out and all. He breaks into a twisted grin, shoving his fingers into the back of your throat. You choke at the sudden roughness, but it only serves to turn you on more. Finally, he’s gotten you lost in the fog of pleasure, giving you the freedom to abandon all ties of subservient shame.

He lets you suck his fingers clean, tongue swirling around the digits, as he unbuttons the front of his slacks. He sighs with relief as the pressure on his cock lightens. He takes the fingers out of your mouth, leaving you panting as he uses them to stroke his dick. A sight that would have left you a fumbling mess moments ago now serves to make you eager. He’s given you a taste of what it was like to reach the clouds of Celestia, to walk along the walls the gods once ventured through. It was addictive.

He can’t help but laugh at your fucked out expression.

“If I knew you were going to be this desperate like a bitch in heat then I would have acquired you a collar,” He huskily whispers down to you, his cock lining up with your drenched hole. Slowly, he pushes the tip in. For a split moment, all anticipation and hormonal-fueled thoughts vanish at the discomfort. Even with prep and soaking wet, it was still too much. Your hands press against his shoulders with a heated hiss.

His hands grab yours, guiding them to wrap around his neck as he leans down, kissing you gently. It serves as a minor distraction as he pushes himself in more. He gasps into the kiss, trying his damnedest to keep his composure for your sake. It’s difficult when he was never a man to do such a thing, but for you, he’s trying.

“Dottore,” You whisper out in a strained tone, your hands finding ground in his light blue locks. He shushes you, letting one hand cup your cheek while the other reaches down to swipe at your clit. Your walls clench from the sensation, and when he lifts his hand, they loosen once more, allowing an opportunity to slide another inch in. Your pained whine stirs a conflicting mixture of empathy and ego within his lust-driven mind.

“It’s okay. Just relax. It’ll hurt more if you remain stiff— there you go, good job. Just a little more.” His lips press against yours once more, mumbling in them with almost embarrassed sincerity, “Let me take care of you.”

One last kiss is shared as he bottoms out. The pain intensifies, the stretch more straining than anything before. Your breathing turns shallow for a split second till he guides your head to his shoulder. The scent of his musky cologne brings a wave of calm. Dottore finds enough will power to give you time to adjust, even if all he wants to do is fuck up into you. His cock twitches at the thought. He’s throbbing, his breaths coming out quick and shallowed. Unlike yours, it comes from the pure need for release. To fill up your hole till it’s leaking, just to flip you over and-

“You can move,” You said, tugging on his locks to snap him out of his day dream. With an eagerness he rocks his hips back and slowly move them in.

“About damn time.” He snaps out, hands gripping your hips. The movement is odd, yet the discomfort soon fades into a pleasurable combination. It doesn’t take long till the same levels of need from when he finger-fucked you replace any previous feelings of fear. It doesn’t take long till you're arching your back up into him, moving your hips in an attempt to meet his.

“More, more,” You whine, falling back into the cool satin sheets. His chuckle is a mockery of your statement, but he can’t help but listen as he rams into your soaked hole.

“More? Ha! Already getting cock drunk? How deplorable.”

The humiliation has your walls clenching around his cock as it thrusts into you in a brutal pace, long forgetting the once gentle promise he made to himself earlier. Why should he be gentle if you get off from being treated less than. His hold on your hips is bruising as he lets himself get lost in his hazy bliss. The way his cock drags itself between your folds leaves you both a whining, moaning disaster.

The bed creaks, headboard slamming against the wall as he speeds up his ministrations, chasing after the feeling of his cock twitching.

“Going to fill you up so nice, you’re going to be begging for this every night. Fuck- yeah, yeah my dear,” He gasps, leaning down to sink his teeth into the valley of your breasts. His finger rubs at your clit, pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves as he slams into one more time. Ropes of his cum paint your walls a pretty white, a deep abyssmal groan follows and it’s like a symphony to your fucked-out, foggy mind. The feeling of his cum and the pressure of his fingers on your clit have your toes curling.

Just as the sensation was about to leave you on the edge he brings his other hand to press down onto your stomach, letting even more of you press deliciously against his still hard cock. Your eyes snap open, rolling to the back of your head as your legs quiver from the white hot pleasure that coats every inch of nerves in your system. Your moans sounding like a pornographic choir, filling the heated air with a slight echo.

Your body is limp, a slight ache replacing the once desirable sensations. Right as you were about to doze off, he thrust back up into you.

He promised weeks ago that your first time would be memorable, and he’s going to stick to his word.

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness

Diverted-Dimension (Christmas 2024)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Why am I back here again!? Take me back to the canon!

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"Finally!" You cheered, stepping back to admire the Christmas tree in the corner of your living room.

"It looks good." Pantalone commented, looking at all the trinkets placed on the tree. "Although, I believe this gadget would look better placed there... And this bauble, yes, hmm, perhaps on the branch above rather than--"

Y'know, it always takes one person to ruin everyone else's happiness doesn't it? Especially when their name is Pantalone. You rolled your eyes, ignoring his fiddling with what you considered a complete and beautiful tree.

Let's just hope Columbina doesn't see him fiddling with her decorations. For Pantalone's sake, you pray she takes five extra minutes in the bathroom so he can have a safe getaway when he's finished with something he sees as necessary.

Anyway, you've been preparing for Christmas day tomorrow. You wanted to put up the tree earlier, not wanting to leave it this late, however being busy babysitting and making sure all the Harbingers go to work with a happy mood sure takes up a lot of time. Not only does it feel like you're playing a very dangerous version of the Sims, but more importantly, it sucks that when all of them leave you have to entertain the others that don't go to work in the first place.

"It feels like the tree is missing something." Dottore chimed in, standing back with a finger on his bottom lip.

"Please don't say that, The Regrator is already driving himself mad with his own activities." Arlecchino stated 

Ignoring those two... They're right, something seems wrong with the tree. But you used everything in the box, what could be missing --

Oh, of course! How could you forget!?

"It's missing an angel on top!" You pointed out, walking over to the Christmas box and rummaging around.

After a while of digging and loud crashing noises consisting of you throwing out whatever you thought could also be added, you found a dusty china angel missing a hand.

"Agh, this won't do." You scolded yourself. "We'll have to go with a star instead. I'll have to cut one out later."

"Cut one out? How are you going to cut a star out of the sky?" Childe asked with a bewildered expression.

"They mean they'll cut one out of paper you damn idiot." Scaramouche glared out of the corner of his eye.

"I often see the Children of the Hearth doing something similar when I pass by..." Signora thought to herself out loud, leaning on one of the arms of the sofa.

"Yes, the children love cutting out different shapes and animals. It just so happens stars are one of the easiest things to make." Arlecchino nodded in agreement.

If it's so damn easy, why don't you do it for me?? You grumbled with an angry grin. It took you a few days to learn how to cut a good looking star out of paper due to your clutzy fingers, how dare they call it 'easy' in front of you!

"Hm? Why do you look angry at me?"

"No reason." You answered her, sharply turning your head away from her tilted one. "Do I even have any paper left? Ugh, I might have to use lined paper and paint it using gold nail varnish if push comes to shove."

"Absolutely not." Sandrone interrupted you. "That sounds messy and unnecessarily more difficult than if you just bought yellow card."

"And where do you propose I get this yellow card? Out of my arse?"

"No." She looked repulsed. "The shop? I saw some in an isle."

"When and why did you go into the corner shop?" You caressed your head, sighing when hearing her solution.

"That's unimportant."

"Sure it is. Anyway, I need to start thinking about how I'm going to cook Christmas dinner--"

"Oh no you don't." Scaramouche interrupted you with a cold voice. "The last time you cooked a genuine meal that didn't include those 'instant noodles', you poisoned everyone who has an organic stomach."

"No way, the Balladeer cares enough about me to not want to see me bedridden again?" Childe gushed with a chuffed smile.

"That's not important!" You raised your voice with flushed cheeks. "How did you know that what I cooked was 'instant' noodles? I never told you that!"

"I asked a staff member in the shop down the street when I saw the exact same package for sale in one of the pasta isles."

"Oh my god, how many of you have been in that damn shop without me!?"

The room stayed silent, some looking away with a cringe whilst others looked at you with unbothered faces.

“Do I count? I’ve never left the house.” Capitano raised his hand innocently.

"Unbelievable." You cried to yourself dramatically.

"I can't believe he's still fiddling." Pulcinella sighed with judging eyes, watching the banker radically move around the tree mumbling to himself like a robot given an impossible task.

"So this is what happens when you don't give him something to do after a long period of time. Lesson learnt." Pierro sweated, coughing into a clenched fist with shut eyes.

"It's not my fault." He turned to the group with hysterical eyes, every so often one twitching. Considering his eyes are always closed, you’re impressed that his mania has managed to do the impossible. "The Decider won't let me do one of the things I'm best at, manipulating an economy. Denying me access to undermining this country's government is making me go mad!"

"What a lunatic." You ignored him, eyeing his antics as nothing more than a regular occurrence at this point.

"So, we're up for cutting a star for the tree then?" You turned back to the group.

"It's your decision and your tree, so of course." Signora shrugged.

"I'm baaaack!~" Columbina burst through the door like a canary, singing with a pep in her step.

She stopped when she saw Pantalone running around the tree, her energy from earlier vanishing as fast as a bird when hearing a gunshot.

"Erm... It's not what it looks like." He turned around slowly, feeling her menacing and dangerous energy piercing his back.

He put his hands in the air, his smile shaking in fear.

"It better not be what it looks like." Her smile contrasted his own. "Because it seems you've been touching something I specifically warned all not to touch.~"

"He's dead, he's actually dead." Childe commented on the sidelines.

"Amen."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Sandrone left to go get yellow card whilst Columbina forced you to tear down the Christmas tree and start decorating it from scratch. She said it was a punishment for you also, due to letting him rearrange it despite hearing her warning. What bullshit, she just couldn't be bothered to do it again. Anyway, Capitano helped you hold the christmas tree up so you could wrap the tinsel around it without trouble. What a nice guy… even though he technically isn’t helping you with what counts most.

"I don't understand why we're cutting out stars. Can't we just use me as the angel?" Columbina giggled to herself.

"No, that would be weird." You frowned at her. "What I don't understand is why everyone is cutting stars with me. Didn't the majority of you say this is going to be boring? Do something else!"

"The 'something else' you're talking about was also boring." Scaramouche picked up his pair of scissors, tracing his finger on the sharp side.

“I’d much rather cut something up than count how many particles are in a cloud.”

“What does that even mean!?”

“Anyway,” Dottore coughed with an irritated stretching smile. “I propose we make this a competition.”

“Of all the childish suggestions–” Arlecchino was cut off.

“I agree, I agree!” Columbina nodded with a happy smile. “It can’t be too hard, maybe we should have a reward for who wins the competition?”

“Although I find the idea of a competition to be senseless, a reward does sound quite… boosting.” Pantalone thought out loud, a greedy smile on his lips.

“This is not happening.” You sighed to yourself, head planted onto the table with exasperation radiating off of your slumped form.

“But what reward could we put on offer? I’m not against competition, heck, I encourage it! But what could we all fight for which would allow us to fight at our strongest the whole time?” Childe leaned against his chair.

The Harbingers thought to themselves, the room erupting in silence with the occasional cough or sniff. All of a sudden, their heads turned and looked at you. Feeling their gazes burning into you, you looked up from the table to see them expectantly eyeing you.

“Ohhh no. No way in whatever thoughts you’re all sharing am I getting involved in this. I’m not becoming some trophy you can flaunt for the rest of the evening.” You denied them.

“But you’re the perfect solution!” Childe playfully pouted.

“Quit torturing them, Childe.” Signora scolded the young ginger. “I propose this; let whoever wins ask The Decider one question. That question can be related to anything, the future or the past.”

“Hmm, but how would we know whether The Decider wouldn’t lie to us?” Dottore suggested.

“I’m staying out of this one.” Pulcinella put his hands in the air, leaving the room. “You youngsters go have fun, I’ll sit this one out.”

“Rooster, I would suggest staying to supervi–”

“So you can go back to that dirty office you keep closing yourself in to work? No thank you, I shall handle your paperwork today. You supervise this time.” He gave the director a harsh glare, making sure to purposefully hit him with his walking stick before walking away.

“Sometimes I can’t tell whether the Rooster is secretly a teenage girl or is just simply strange…” Pierro muttered to himself. Sighing.

“How about both, mixed in with the fact that he’s a psycho with more control issues than you think.”

“Hm? You think even more than the Regrator?”

“Deffo.” You clicked your tongue. “He just hides it because he’s a champ like that.”

“Don’t change focus!” Scaramouche raised his voice. “I order you to answer me. You will tell the truth to the victor of the contest, no?”

“Hold on, didn’t we agree to ask our own questions once we deliver them to the Tsaritsa?” Childe questioned.

“That was just to get you to not hound The Decider back when we first found them.” 

“Fine.” You agreed with an eye roll, secretly crossing your fingers behind your back like a five year old. You’ll probably just make something up that sounds accurate when the winner asks their question. You’re betting that Sandrone will win this though, this kind of has something to do with her job after all.

“It’s decided then!” Columbina clapped in delight. “The Decider and The Director will be our judges. We’ll work for 10 minutes to create a star suitable to be put on the tree, then will be judged to see who has the best!”

“This is not gonna go well…” You said, trying your best to cover the shaky smile on your face. This is the best! You’ll just pick someone who won’t ask a question you don’t mind answering! Thank you Columbina for giving you this chance.

“You’re telling me!” Pulcinella shouted from the other room, sarcasm oozing like tar glooping down a slope.

“Count us down, count us down!” Columbina couldn’t contain her excitement, her body practically vibrating.

“Alright, alright… Ugh, I regret this… On your marks, get set, cut!”

“Seriously? ‘Cut’?” Pierro turned to you.

“What was I supposed to say!?”

The Harbingers sat at the table immediately started cutting, the sound of card shredding and small pieces emitting everywhere. Guess who’s going to have to clean that up? You thought with a frown, watching card pile up in the small crevasses in your carpet.

Looking around at the Harbinger’s cutting paper, you realise one was just sitting there watching the others work.

“Uhh, Capitano? Aren’t you going to begin?” You asked him.

“No.” His deep voice answered in return. “I am not going to join this display, no matter how entertaining it will be for you. Firstly, my fingers won’t fit in the holes of the scissors. And secondly, I have no question to ask you so entering just for victory would be pointless.”

“Brother, your fingers can’t be that big.” You deadpanned, letting your mind wander a bit too far with the thought.

He simply crossed his arms and continued to watch the others, ignoring you from then on. Oh well, he’s not interfering or arguing back like a child so you’ll let it happen. Besides, it looks like he quite likes watching so it’s the least you could do.

Pierro put an arm on your shoulder, getting your attention. You turned to make eye-contact and saw him hesitating in what to say to you.

“Do you need a defibrillator? You look like you’re having a seizure.”

“Who do you think is going to make the best star?” He said after, not registering your insult you said a few seconds prior.

“Wow. Did it really take you that long to think of what to say to me?”

“Quiet.” He warned you.

“Hmm… Who do I think is going to win?” You mumbled out loud, pretending to give it some thought. “Screw it, I’m not going to pretend. Sandrone’s going to make the best one because she does this kind of thing as a job.”

“Hah!” She guffawed after hearing your predictions, continuing her cutting with a content smile.

“Buuuut, that’s not what makes a star special. It isn’t just perfection, but passion and hope. I want to see how unique some people will make it… within reason of course.”

“I wasn’t expecting such an intelligent reply.” Pierro sweated. “Here I was, ready to scold you.”

“It’s like that’s all you can ever bloody think about when it comes to me.” You deadpanned.

“You give me no choice half of the time.” He sighed with a shaking head. “Your choices are often questionable and must be corrected. Would you rather have a physical punishment instead?”

Is this guy nuts?

“No… No, I would not.”

“That's what I thought.” He turned to look at the competition.

“Decider, help me out here.” Scaramouche clicked his fingers, beckoning you like an old woman would to her juvenile cat.

“Do I look like your pet?” You recoiled in disgust.

“I’ll let you leave the house to go to that dumb park you like if you help me right now.”

“I’m on my way!” You ran over to his side, peering down to see the mess of a star he’s created. It’s not bad at all, it’s actually your style - you like it a lot! What on earth could he need help for?

When you peered down to his design, you felt a cold unnatural hand grasp the side of your head and pull it closer to his face.

“Tell me how you like them.” He whispered. “Would you rather me add more detail or remove it? And don’t lie to me or I’ll kill you.”

“Pierro, The Balladeer is cheating! He’s bribing The Decider!” Sandrone pushed her chair back and stood up dramatically, pointing her scissors at the offender.

“Hey, no fair!” Childe whined. “If he gets to bribe them, let me bribe them too!”

“If anyone is to bribe the Decider, it should be me. I am the richest man in Teyvat after all.” Pantalone shrugged whilst lazily cutting.

“Correction: Ningguang is the richest in terms of all. You only count as the richest when it comes to being a man.” You pointed out. “And besides, I would never take your dirty money.”

Piero coughed loudly to quieten everyone down, all in the room turning to him like a deer in headlights. He waited until everyone stopped complaining and then spoke.

“Do continue with your cutting, you have less than a minute left.” He gestured to the timer. “And no bribery. The first to test my patience and even attempt to do so will be put under experimentation during the rest of our stay here and our return.”

“Oh, by all means, bribe away!” Dottore laughed at the Harbinger’s around him, silently cutting.

Huh? Less than a minute left? But when you last looked at the time they had at least 8 minutes left. You checked the timer once more, and found fat greasy fingerprints on buttons that weren’t there prior. You turned to the old man with an incredulous face, mouth wide open. He caught your staring, and put a finger on his lips with a small almost unnoticeable smile.

Pierro, you cheeky bastard. I love you for this.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The stars were laid out on the dining table, each Harbinger stood behind their own creations. Sadly but also un-sadly, some Harbingers were too slow and couldn’t finish their star in time. By some, you mean Pantalone and surprisingly Sandrone.

“I’m not going to hear the end of this.” Sandrone had her face buried in her hands, looking at her creation with malice. “In defence, I value time to craft perfection. Announcing a set time dampens my methods and results in mechanics such as this one. Ugh, what a waste!” She threw the craft off of the table, the star unravelling itself immediately.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course.” You sarcastically waved at her embarrassment. “And you, Pantalone? What’s your excuse?”

“The scissors you gave me were tampered with! I call for–”

“So I’m the problem? Okay, whatever…”

You walked down the table, looking at each star neutrally then nodding and moving onto the next. Now, you’re not an expert, but did they really think you wouldn’t notice? They all look the exact same! They all look like copied versions of Scaramouche’s design! When watching him try to bribe you, they must have thought you liked his design the best and copied him to have a fair chance. Well, they’re wrong! You’re just going to pick the person who will give you the least trouble when answering their question, jokes on them!

…That was your original plan. After looking at all the stars, you felt a new motivation when noticing one person didn’t copy and stuck to their own principles. Also they may or may not be the only person to not take this seriously and you want to mess with the others a little bit. Pierro will agree with you, he’s the type to disregard any copycats so he won’t have trouble with your choice at all.

“Okay, I’ve decided on my winner.” You announced, stepping back to view the expectant Harbingers.

“Arlecchino, you win.”

“WHAT!?”

“But why?” She asked, not looking surprised or pleased. “I could care less about an answer to a question, nor do I care about winning this childish competition.”

“That’s actually why I picked you. And because your star is an original design - sorry Scara, but uhh, you might have won if the others didn’t copy.”

“Of course.” He grumbled, glaring at the Harbingers staring at him. “One day, I’m going to murder all of you fools and sell your parts to people far worse than Dottore! I’ll get back at all of you for ruining my chances!”

“Anyway,” You tuned his violent voice out. “Yeah, you’re the winner. Pierro, what do you think?”

“...I agree.” He said in a quieter tone. “Now, I will be returning to my office to continue what’s left of my work… and review what The Rooster has already completed.”

As he was walking away, you turned back to notice the majority of Harbingers had walked away to go back to what they were doing prior, bored after realising they wouldn't be able to profit with staying around for longer.

“Do I get to ask my question now?” Arlecchino tapped her elbow impatiently with folded arms.

“So you do want the reward?”

“Despite it not being my intention when joining, I would indeed like something that was promised. Whether it be an accident or a purposeful decision.”

“Okay, fine. Ask away then.” You shrugged.

“As you must already be aware, the majority of my Children from the Hearth hail from Fontaine, the nation of justice. I won’t lie to you, I’m beginning to grow increasingly concerned with the prophecy where–”

“--where the whole nation will be flooded and all the people will be killed except the archon? Yeah, I know of it. Your point?” You finished her explanation, already having an idea of where the conversation was heading.

“Then you will understand I care deeply about the future of my children. Tell me, will I succeed in convincing the Tsaritsa to visit Fontaine to retrieve the Gnosis in place of Rosalyne?”

“Of course you’d use the question to ask about your ‘precious children’.” Scaramouche mocked. “Just how idiotic can you be?? This is your chance to ask about the future!”

You gave a harsh glare with icy eyes in his direction before sighing, a smile on your face. “Yeah.”

“Hm? You have to give a higher detailed response to that.”

“You go to Fontaine, Childe coincidentally also there for his own personal motivations which may or may not be important. The whole time you’re there, you’re investigating Furina and the prophecy. Long story short, that I WILL NOT be elaborating, the prophecy is sorted and the people are saved. This includes the children in the House of the Hearth.” You explained, pleased with the question she asked you and your own personal answer. Wow, you can even impress yourself sometimes!

“Excellent.” She sighed in relief, her face unchanging. “Thank you. But I do have to ask, is the Hydro Archon really working to prevent the flood?”

“That’s two questions. But fine,” You shrugged. “You can trust her. Everything is proceeding to the plan, although interrogation and suspicion do indeed accelerate it to completion.” You thought out loud, noticing her questioning gaze and smiling deeper.

“That’s enough serious stuff. When are we going to discuss presents? Now that the tree is up we need to put the presents under it!” 

“Uh… We’re flat-out poor. We can’t afford presents.” Childe shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to accept my love as a present instead!”

“Ew, what are you, five? Wait… Don’t come over here! Not after saying something like that!” You panicked, watching him run over to you at full speed and choosing to run away.

“Scaramouche you know how you said you’d take me to the park? I’m cashing in that favour right now!”

[phoenixblaze1412]

Hiii love your page sm! Wondering if I could request Dottore with Fem!reader who is like The Herta from HSR? 💜💜

In the cold, clinical corridors of the Akademiya, brilliance often hid behind veils of eccentricity. You were no exception, with a personality as peculiar as it was captivating. Detached from the world’s expectations and deeply engrossed in your intellectual pursuits, you found fascination in everything strange. Your aloof and deadpan demeanor often put others off—but not Dottore.

Dottore—Zandik, as he was known back then—was equally ostracized, though for vastly different reasons. His methods were merciless, his goals unrelenting. Yet, despite his cold, calculated nature, he found himself inexplicably drawn to you, the odd scholar with a penchant for creating strange automatons and making unsettlingly blunt remarks.

The first time you met, Zandik was dissecting a particularly rare desert creature, his movements precise and methodical. You walked in uninvited, holding a curious automaton in your hands. It was a strange, humanlike small version of you with spindly limbs and an almost lifelike gaze.

“Is this where you hide when you don’t want to deal with people?” you asked flatly, tilting your head as you observed him.

He glanced up briefly, his expression neutral. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

You ignored his question, setting the mini automaton of you on the table beside him and poked its cheek. “Do you think it’s creepy? People keep saying it’s creepy.”

He stared at the automaton for a long moment, then back at you. “What exactly is it supposed to do?”

“Anything I tell it to,” you replied with a shrug. “But mostly, it’s just fun to look at. Like you.”

His brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t take it personally,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “You have a very symmetrical face. People like symmetrical faces.”

That was the beginning of your strange dynamic—equal parts baffling and fascinating.

Your personality was a study in contrasts. You were perpetually calm, unbothered, and mildly sarcastic. Dottore, on the other hand, was intense, driven, and occasionally prone to fits of anger when things didn’t go his way.

You often made comments that left him speechless.

One day, as you watched him conduct a particularly gruesome experiment, you looked over his shoulder, “You know, most people would find this horrifying.”

He didn’t look up. “And you don’t?”

You shrugged. “It’s gross, sure, but it’s also fascinating. Kind of like you.”

He paused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “You have a strange way of giving compliments.”

“I wasn’t trying to compliment you,” you said simply, your expression blank. “Just stating facts.”

While you found entertainment in experimentation, Dottore was wholly consumed by it.

“Why do you care so much about proving everyone wrong?” you asked him one night as you tinkered with your automaton.

“Because they are wrong,” he said, his voice cold and sharp. “Their ignorance holds back progress.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You’re very passionate about being right. It’s almost cute.”

He scowled. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not,” you replied, your tone flat. “You just make it easy.”

Despite your differences—or perhaps because of them—you and Dottore found yourselves gravitating toward each other.

He was often intrigued by your automatons, though he’d never admit it outright.

“What’s that one supposed to do?” he asked one day, gesturing to a new automaton of you that you’d been working on.

“It sings and dances,” you replied, pressing a button on its back. The automaton began to hum a haunting melody, its movements eerily lifelike as it twirled around in one place like a ballerina does.

Dottore raised an eyebrow. “And what purpose does that serve?”

“It doesn’t need a purpose,” you said with a small smile. “Not everything has to be useful.”

He huffed, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

You often found yourself drawn to his intensity, even if you didn’t always understand it.

“Do you ever stop working?” you asked him one evening as you sat on a table, watching him scribble notes.

He didn’t look up. “No.”

“That’s unhealthy, you know,” you said, resting your chin in your hand.

“And yet, I’m perfectly fine,” he replied curtly.

You leaned closer, a small smirk playing on your lips. “You’re fascinating, you know that?”

He finally looked at you, his eyes narrowing. “You have an odd way of showing affection.”

“Who said anything about affection?” you teased.

Centuries later, after the fall of Khaenri’ah and the passage of time, you and Dottore found yourselves in Sumeru under very different circumstances.

You had disappeared from his life long ago, your fate unknown. He assumed you were dead—another casualty of the calamity that had reshaped the world. But as fate would have it, your paths crossed again during the Sumeru Archon Quest.

When you first saw him, standing tall and imposing in his Harbinger robes, you couldn’t help but smirk. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite symmetrical face.”

He froze, his eyes widening ever so slightly. “You.”

“Me,” you replied, as calm and unbothered as ever.

His composure quickly returned, but you could see the flicker of emotion in his eyes. “I thought you were dead.”

“Everyone thought I was dead,” you said with a shrug. “But here I am. Surprise.”

At first, your interactions were tinged with the same mix of sarcasm and curiosity that had defined your relationship in the Akademiya.

“You’re still as insufferable as ever,” he muttered one day after you teased him about his methods.

“And you’re still as intense as ever,” you shot back. “It’s good to see some things never change.”

Despite your bickering, there was an undeniable tension between you—a connection that neither of you could ignore.

"Oh? I thought you didn't like to study about the way of how I make my automatons yet here you are, having different automatons of yourself. Do they sing and dance as well?" you asked as you looked over at the different segments working, some would stop their work to stare at you (mostly the Akademiya segments) while others would simply give you a small glance and go back to their work.

"They do not do as such. Think of them as replicas of me who acts and thinks the same way I would. They have their purposes." Dottore replied as he went back to looking over his reports.

"Yet you still made them all have a symmetrical face. How endearing." you stared back at the Akademiya segment and cupped his face, your fingers caressing the segment's cheek before pulling your hand away. You swore you could have heard Dottore let out a huff of annoyance.

As you spent more time together, the walls between you began to crumble.

One night, as you worked side by side in his lab, he glanced at you and said, “I missed you.”

You looked up, surprised by his admission. “You did?”

He nodded, his gaze softening. “More than I thought possible.”

For once, you didn’t respond with sarcasm. Instead, you reached out and placed a hand on his. “I missed you too.”

Your relationship was far from conventional, but it worked. You balanced his intensity with your calmness, and he grounded your whimsical nature with his focus.

“You’re the strangest person I’ve ever met,” he told you one day as you tinkered with an automaton.

“Coming from you, that’s a compliment,” you replied with a grin.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Distorted.

Pairing: Yandere!Dottore x Reader (Genshin).

A Grab Bag Commission For A Very Lovely Anonymous Commissioner.

Summary: With the help of the Akasha system, Dottore strives to keep you happy and docile and, most importantly, unaware by his side.

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Unreality, Slight Gore/Blood, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Obsessive Behavior.

“Do you think Ajax is free?”

Dottore hummed thoughtfully, pressing his scalpel downward and severing a measured length of small intestine from the greater mass. With time to spare and the patient he was extracting his materials from long-dead, he took a minute aside to note the patches of scar tissue lining their internal tissue on a blood-spotted journal, to test for unusual viscosity or durability that’d have to be accounted for in his research. It was a minor study, something that would’ve been handed off to a younger branch of himself not yet ready to play a hand in more dire schemes, but due to the intervention of a certain archon, he was forced to carry out more of his own grunt work than he had in decades. Not that he minded getting his hands dirty, of course.

Especially when the same archon’s nation had given him such a lovely lab assistant to keep him company while he worked.

“Planning to replace me, little mouse?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten. It’s your own dinner party, for the Tsaritsa’s sake.” He heard you sigh in mock exasperation, then again – your frustration more genuine. You were sitting at his desk, working away at whatever little task you’d assigned yourself, the ring of blue light encircling your head pulsing brightly. It was his own handiwork – a version of the Akasha system he’d been able to maintain even after returning to Snezhnaya. He had no idea where you thought you were, what you thought he was doing, what you saw through those clouded eyes, but he knew you couldn’t be here, in his dark, cluttered lab - couldn’t see your beloved husband, the man who you’d crossed half of Teyvat to stay with, elbow-deep in a vat of disembodied organs and viscera. That was what interested him most about your experiment, really. It was one thing to wonder how you’d react if you ever found out the man you loved had such grisly pastimes. It was another, to watch what lengths your mind would go to just to substitute your reality with a more palatable fantasy. When it suited him, he could play a more involved hand in your fabrication, make himself into a hero or a villain or something else altogether, but most days, he was content to let you create your own daydreams. You were the most obedient when you could make him into exactly what you needed, that day.

“To celebrate your return to Snezhnaya,” You went on, as he piled the segmented pieces of a malformed liver onto his scale. “Pierro says that you haven’t been holding up your social obligations. I know it’s not customary, but I thought it’d be nice to invite another Harbinger – so you don’t have to suffer a room full of noblemen and merchants alone.”

So you were aware of his status as a Harbinger, today. More often than not, you treated him like a neighborhood doctor, or a traveling scholar as far from home as you’d found yourself. Sometimes, he was a low-ranking diplomat, or a medic you could welcome home from the battlefield, but you rarely acknowledged him as something so dangerous, something so far above yourself. It must’ve been the occasion. It would’ve been hard to deny who he was when you were sending out the invitations to a Harbinger’s event.

On that note, he abandoned his work, positioning himself on the opposing side of your desk. He was already smiling – it was difficult not to, when you were in his position – but his grin broadened further as he looked over your half-finished guest list, your attempts at calligraphy scribbled across what little scrap paper you could find. “I believe Tartaglia was sent back to his post in Liyue last week.”

You pursed your lips. “Pantalone comes with good company.”

“And he charges market-price for every precious second of his time. You wouldn’t want to bleed me dry, now, would you?” You tilted your head to the side, pretending to consider it, and he let out a breathy laugh, rounding the table and settling behind you, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “There must be an alternative.”

“Well,” You tilted your head back, your smile now matching his own. “It has been a while since I’ve heard Columbina sing–”

“Anyone but Columbina.”

“I write Pantalone a letter tonight, then.” You allowed yourself a moment to bask in your own self-satisfaction, leaning back in your seat and allowing your gaze to drift – first to your lap, then to your shoulders, where the blood and viscera coating your hands was beginning to soak into the fine ivory silk of your sleeves. There was a flash of repulsion, a sound not unlike a half-choked scream, and then you were shoving him away, your expression only growing more pained when he refused to move. He felt something tighten in his chest – not quite fear, but pure, zealous excitement. Had you, somehow, managed to break yourself out of your trance? Was there a flaw in the Akasha system he hadn’t accounted for? How much would you force yourself to forget, overwrite, warp and distort into something loving in the coming hours if you saw him for what he was, now?

“Zandik.” The sound of his name on your lips was to die for. He leaned down, pressing nipping at the corner of your jaw, and you groaned, brushing him away. “I’ve told you not to touch me while you’re painting. Look at me – it’s going to take ages to get this out of my clothes.”

Oh. Painting. How adorably quaint.

How adorably wrong.

With a sigh, he leaned down, pressing a fleeting kiss into the corner of your neck. You crossed your arms, sulking, but allowed him to. It wasn’t as if you’d be able to refuse. “Forgive me, darling.”

He straightened his back, watching red seep into white and begin to stain.

“I’m sure you’ll forget all about this in no time at all.”

[crowttore]

Notes: I have no idea what possessed me and I don't like it. Will probably never write him like this again. Steal this and I'll give you Sarcoptes scabiei var. hominis. Tags: Dottore x reader, nsft, noncon, blood, implied drugging, impromptu dildo, degradation, Omega segment is a warning in itself, 1k Minors DNI

The suggestion had been innocent enough, with Zandik gone for a few weeks it came as no surprise that you found yourself missing the touch of your lover. Worse still was it that his segments made it all the more noticeable.

Dress shoes and metal heels constantly clicking against the cold floors. Both sounds that could herald the approach of any version of him. Against your better judgement, it still had your head perking up and your heart fluttering with anticipation despite knowing it would be at least another week before the original returned.

"Offer them a hand and they'll take an arm."

And how true that had been. The moment you'd stepped foot in their sanctuary, dozens of 'eyes' had immediately locked on your form.

Omega had been quick to brush aside the rest, claiming himself better equipped for the task than the rest. He was, after all, the most advanced of them all.

Nestled against his chest, the temperature a little above what Zandik's skin usually was, it was easy to ignore the low whirring sound from where a heart should be.

Pain flared through your nerves, pulling you from the peaceful slumber with a strangled screech. Your skin felt like it was on fire, melting from within and dripping onto the-

Onto what should have been cotton sheets. Instead, your fingers traced along a smooth, cold surface. Metal.

"Does it really hurt that bad? Poor little lamb, let me help," Zandik - no Omega - cooed in your ear, voice eerily saccharine.

A small chuckle followed his words, mingling with your own whimper as another surge of pain invaded your senses. Moving was impossible, something as freezing as the table keeping your limbs tethered.

Omega's beaked mask scratched along your cheek, and you swore blood trickled in its wake. Focusing was difficult as your head throbbed, only made worse by how sharp the lights were. Even squinting, you could only faintly make out the details of Omega's lips with your blurry vision.

Heavy limbs and a fogged mind. The explanation was logical. But he would never- a segment yes, but still your lover. Part of him at least.

A gloved hand struck your cheek, centering you for long enough to look down at yourself in horror. Undressed. Knees pinned to the vivisection table. You couldn't see anyone else in the room, thankful for that small mercy from Omega.

"This's not," your tongue felt heavy, the effort of shaping words more arduous than expected, "what I 'greed to.."

It felt like being torn apart, a wounded beast crying out when something put pressure between your legs.

Your attempts at thrashing against the restraints were only met with a shake of his head, "Details were never specified. What you requested was for one of us to fill in for the original, now don't be ungrateful," Omega tutted.

The ceiling had started spinning above you, tears streaking down your cheeks with every press of whatever Omega was currently forcing into your body. It felt like you were going to burst, the invasive object rearranging your gut and pushing the air from your lungs.

"He'd.. he'd never.." Your words came out as nothing more than breathless gasps and choked sobs. Wanting desperately to separate the Segment from your beloved Zandik, you had to close your eyes.

Another sharp slap to your cheek made your body clench down around the foreign object now being pistoned in and out of you. The taste of iron was heavy on your tongue from how hard you'd bit down on your lip.

"He would," Omega sounded far too satisfied, gloved fingers digging into your cheeks until you whimpered in pain, "there we go, passing out isn't an option darling. There's nothing of interest to me if you aren't screaming." He punctuated his words with a particularly harsh thrust that had your eyes flying open once more.

His mask had been discarded, leaving you staring up into the red core that you swore glinted with elation. Whatever had been working your body open was situated between his legs, abusing your hole with every thrust. It shouldn't be possible. Zandik had long since abandoned biological accuracy with the segments, which meant Omega himself had prepared for this.

As though sensing the confusion in your foggy mind, Omega grinned, "Have you never wondered why the original is so gentle with you? Never considered that there are parts he keeps hidden from you?"

You had. It was impossible not to. Nothing coherent left your lips, the pain having slowly turned to dim pleasure once his pace had slowed down.

"You cannot sate his desires, not without being broken. Do not delude yourself into thinking otherwise. This," Omega snapped his hips forward, the motion pulling a shrill scream from your lungs, "is just a taste of what 'Your Zandik' really is."

His movements stopped abruptly, leaving an ache growing in its wake and your body squirming. With a scoff, Omega leaned forward, an uncharacteristically bitter tone lacing his words, "We don't hesitate. We never let trivial matters distract us from the grand picture. You are making him weak."

A firm hand pressed down on your abdomen, the feeling making you cough and splutter while your eyes rolled back. There were no more tears left to shed, only a burning sting behind your eyes.

"The least you can do," Omega sneered into your ear, "is prove that you will not abandon him when his composure finally snaps."

Without warning, your body was left harrowingly empty as Omega pulled away, giving you a brief glimpse of the thick metal rod that had been strapped to his hips. Too tired to acknowledge the slick clinging to the surface, you tried weakly to lift your arms once more as the pain from your exposed position resurfaced with the lack of pleasure to distract you.

"...please," you silently sobbed, hoping he had finished making his point.

He merely hummed, tossing the makeshift dildo onto a table with a loud clang that made you flinch. "You aren't quite done yet, I believe a few of the others would like a word with you as well while the original is gone."

Dottore Masterlist

[fatuismooches]

Do you think Alpha ever gets envious of Omega or Prime?

Alpha is basically the tsundere-trope, a bit more deeper than that but it is kinda where he lands with his whole feigned irritability but is harbouring fondness thing. Which is cute! We love him for it - but do you think Alpha looks at the more confident versions of himself and feels a rising sense of resentment?

For him, he tries (and fails) to brush off his lover's affections, insisting that they distract him and he doesn't need those frivolous attachments. He doesn't say them harshly, it's more of a grumble in denial as he doesn't make any true efforts to push his lover off him. It's a formality at this point to make him feel more like 'himself.'

Until he sees Omega or Prime with their collective lover. Do you think he would silently seethe since his versions are open with their affections? Omega and Prime reciprocate it without a trace of shame, at times turning the tables to have their lover become a stammering mess.

Maybe he quietly desires to have that same brazen attitude, maybe he too wishes that he could be just as charismatic.

But everytime he tries, his great intellect draws a blank, and he is forced to grumble another reluctant protest to the affection he is bombarded with.

[Pretty sure Alpha is the Akademiya segment if I remember right... ( ´△｀)? ]

Yes! Even though he doesn't really show it, I do believe Alpha would harbor the most "jealousy" in general out of all the segments - constantly watching his peers be accepted while he's shunned, both physically and idea/research-wise, being denied and expelled from his own homeland, etc. However, he refuses to put a name to this feeling and just grows resentment toward the whole thing. (The older segments, who still long for acceptance, don't react exactly the same due to their much older age and maturity.)

Being but another segment stuck in time, unable to make peace with himself, Alpha can't help himself with how he acts toward you, it's quite literally how he was programmed. It's practically a routine at this point - you throwing so many kisses and hugs and affection at him out of nowhere as he lectures you and fruitlessly attempts to nudge you away. Every excuse in the book coming out - he's busy, you're busy, go bother someone else, let him think in peace for once. Alpha says them all as you continue to cling to him, his eyes getting softer as he continues to grumble, more halfheartedly at this point.

It's not really a secret how affectionate and possessive the oldest two are with you - the best segment and the original - neither of them particularly shies away from it even if others are watching. It's just laughable how he is them and yet he is not at the same time. He shares so many traits with them and yet the differences are as clear as day - the truth of the matter is that he will never be them. A part of the jealousy also stems from the feeling original Zandik had about you leaving him, because well, he was less than the ideal partner for obvious reasons. Alpha is also the first one in Dottore's life to ever feel love... and subsequently the most vulnerable... so ya. He does feel the irritation.

And yet, no matter how much he tells himself he'll say what he truly wants, the opposite comes out of his mouth, for that's the fate he's been dealt.

However, Reader probably knows him well enough to figure out his inner feelings, and they would go to great lengths to make sure he knows they love him just as much. In truth, they do love his personality - although it can be a headache sometimes when they're genuinely trying to be affectionate, it's a part of him they find cute, and they wouldn't change it. They already know how much he loves them, and that's enough.

[eros-kisser]

I’m not sure if you’ll do it, it’s okay if not, but can you do Dottore headcanons?

mm mm sure!! congrats anon, on being my first ever ask~ 

— dottore's a sadist, that much is obvious. he wouldn't be one to spoil you, not unless you count dismembered organs as "gifts." if you freak out once you see them, he'll only clutch at his sides in maniacal laughter. what, he can't help it. you look stupid as hell, why is he even your partner in the first place?

— yet, despite what he says about "not giving a shit" about whatever you do on a day to day basis, dottore makes it a top priority to keep you away from his clones. he won't dare explain it to you, just waves his hand dismissively, but what is there to elaborate on? yes, he's jealous of a copy of himself, so what? a fake him shouldn't be allowed to steal your attention away from the real one, right?

(im not sure if you wanted nsfw so i added it on as an extra!!)

— that sadism is bound to come up in any sort of bed play. he might be fond of bondage - who knows? he likes seeing you struggle against your constraints, face contorted with panic. sure, you aren't enjoying this, but he sure is! he'll giggle like a little kid, giddy beyond belief as he pounds into you mercilessly, not allowing you a second to breathe.

— oh, has he found the formula for a brand new potion? best give it to you to try out. huh, your body's growing hot, and its hard to breathe...? oops, did he not mention that he gave you the newest, most potent version of aphrodisiac? hm, i guess there's no choice but for him to help you through it like the responsible lover he is, thrusting relentlessly into you and pressing you into the ruined bedsheets!

[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.)

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Only You're Mine, Do You Understand?

♡♡-Request: Dottore (webtoon ver) and reader are out on a mission. He leaves for an erand, while gone reader gets hit on and doesn't notice the pissed off Doctor. He fumes, dragging her to their hotel and fucks her against the bed, pinned down. 3rd Person.

☆☆-Warnings: darling (for reader), pussy play, 3rd person, fem!reader, pussy smacking, titty smack, spitting (on p), rough fucking, laughing during sex (crazy), possessive behavior, plaything (for reader), mentions of being a toy, p in v, unprotected sex, cuming inside, fingering, please let me know if I missed anything♡

A/N: I'm sorry if he seems a little ooc for the version anon wanted. I haven't read it and did my best to portray from what content I've seen of this version. Also, it's 3rd as anon requested. Somewhat of a darkish theme, MDNI.

Dottore often didn’t have much faith in others to do any job the correct way, only his clones and her did he trust. She wasn’t the worst partner he could ask for, listened real well and generally completed tasks in a quick manner. And she rarely questioned his methods, which he found as a plus! A pointed smile graced his face as he looked down at her, eyes holding a bit of wild to it, he made a point of poking her forehead. For what reason? He didn’t know but it was fun watching her reaction. 

“There are some people over there I need to have a word with, stay here, will you darling?” 

She gave him a small smile but nodded, “I’ll stay here until you’re done. We’ll go back to the hotel after. I think we’ve asked around as much as we could.” His tongue slides across his bottom lip before nodding, his pointed teeth peeking through the open space of his mask. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He announced almost too loudly as he waved a hand behind him, laughing to himself as he walked off in a direction she hadn’t even noticed was there. How did he do that? With a sigh, she moved to take a seat on a vacant bench, her hands in her lap as she swung her legs back and forth. Jumping slightly when she felt someone sit beside her; a man she’d never seen before. 

“Hi,” he said. His voice wavering slightly as a small blush spread on his cheeks. She returned the greeting, angling her body to face him. It was the polite thing to do. 

…

Dottore had finished his impromptu meeting, sliding the test tube in his coat pocket, pausing when he caught sight of her. And that man. Immediate possessive, burning jealousy coursed through his veins. She was his to play with, not that man! His gloved hands tensed at his sides, teeth sharper than knives sunk into his lip, seething. Who did she think she was? This wouldn’t do. And to think he’d praised her earlier in his head! With worrying speed, he transformed his face into an unreadable one. To her at least, as he made his way over, the man who was talking to her could feel his presence before he got within a few feet. Making up some excuse before rushing away, leaving her poor face all confused. How sad. 

“We’re leaving,” he announced. Taking small pride in the way she jumped at his voice, she hadn’t noticed him. Or she was pretending. 

He wrapped his hand around her arm, a harsh grip that would more than likely leave a handprint later. Dottore dragged her through the streets, caring none for the looks others gave him or her for that matter. He was mad at her. His face was a mixture of a pout and anger with a hint of a smile when you both arrived at the hotel room. With great force, he yanked her arm and shoved her to the bed. Watching as her body bounced from the force, giggling when he paid special attention to her tits. He took no time in placing both hands on her chest, fingers gripping the fabric before ripping it to shreds. Doing the same with her bra.She barely had time to process what was happening.

“Dottore what ar-”

“Silence. Any explanation would bore me. I’m going to remind you who’s allowed to play with you. That’s the end of it.” He worked down her body and gave the same treatment to her pants and panties, tossing the scraps to the other side of the room. She was still confused and surprised, but somewhat got it. He must have seen that man flirting with her. And he was acting like this? She knew he had a slight possessive side, she’d seen it with his subjects (only a rare few) but nothing like this. But she couldn’t say she was completely against it. So all she did was nod, her body immediately arching as she felt him spit on her pussy. His gloved fingers smeared in the saliva to get her wet. “This is my pussy. You’re my plaything. No one else's.” He reared his hand back and gave a quick smack to her cunt, giggling as it twitched. Her slick increased as it leaked from her slit. 

He semi pouted, “I want to play with you but you need a lesson. So we’re gonna rush this, mmkay?” Another giggle left his mouth as he stood, pulling down the zipper of his pants. Freeing his erection, his length slapped against the fabric of his coat but he paid it no mind. Instead, he slid his fingers into the folds of her cunt, making sure to get all nice and wet so he could lube his cock. A little pain was fun but she’d get more than her fair share from how hard he planned on fucking her. Content with the amount of arousal on his hand, he ran it up and down his length, breathy laughter mixing into the silence of the room. Safe for the low moans she’d emit every now and then. 

“Up we go!” He said, the excitement evident in his voice as he hoisted her legs onto his shoulders. Wasting no time in feeding his girthy cock into her sopping pussy. To think, she’d gotten this excited in a span of a few minutes, how delightful! He was rough with his pace, fucking into her like she was a doll, a true toy for him to use. Because that’s what she was! His special, pretty little plaything that needed to be reminded! Dottore laughed again, breaking off into a groan as she clenched around him, sucking him in further. “Yeah! Taking it so good, almost makes me not wanna punish you, ahaha, just kidding. You deserve this.” He grunted, pushing her legs up higher so he could watch himself push in and out of her pussy. “Look at that! I need a picture, too bad I don’t have my Kamera. Guess my eyes will have to do!” 

She whined pitifully, breasts bouncing with each thrust. She wanted to say something, say anything but he was quite literally fucking the words out of her, he didn’t mind. It was more fun this way. To watch her silent scream and well, cream around his cock. Speaking of which, “Oho? You cuming? Me too me too!” His laughing became a staple of this moment, the speed increasing as he fucked her through her orgasm, his following soon after. As his hips stilled, he gave her tits a playful smack before pulling out, immediately shoving his fingers inside.

“We can’t have you losing the present I just gave you, can we? You’re lucky I decided to give you one at all.”

Navigation

[dottoresdiscordkitten69]

WARNINGS: AFAB READER, PWP, SEX

WORDS: 2.8K

Finished reports sat neatly in a folder, and that folder was tapped rhythmically by your fingers as you walked into the lab.

Though once you walked in, no one was there.

No Dottore, no clones lurking around or even one of his lab rats sitting motionless on the tables. Just you and those buzzing ceiling lights.

Deciding to just leave the folders on his desk and a quick note explaining what they were, your shoes clicked against the constantly waxed floor. Leaning over the desk slightly, you fumbled with the pens in the wooden cup.

Clumsy fingers eventually grabbing hold on one, you sigh and find a notepad, tearing off of the pad and beginning writing. Pausing every now and then to remember details, knowing your boss was a bit nosey himself, wanting to know every little thing.

Eventually inviting yourself to sit on his chair, you were a bit startled by how warm the seat was, he must’ve gotten up recently. This was motivation to finish the note quickly, then you would’ve spent a solid two and a half minutes writing a note just to have to tell Dottore the longer version as well.

Pressing the pen beside the last word, you finally finished. A small groan left your lips as you stretched, arms raised in the air. As you lowered them back down, your eyes fell on the cup right next to the pen you dropped with much vigor. Subconsciously licking your lips, your throat began asking your brain to take a look, just to see if there was anything inside to quench its thirst.

Reaching out for the cup, your fingertips brushed against the cold ceramic, dragging it closer to you. Taking in the color, it looked to be a light brown, but not to an alarming degree. Wafting the scent, you were immediately hit with the familiar musk of coffee, something Dottore and his clones seemed to be drowning themselves in.

Surely, surely he wouldn’t notice a small sip gone from his drink. Not that it mattered what you thought, your hands already cupped the mug and brought it to your lips. Without a second thought for the consequences did you let the liquid fall on your tongue and slip down your throat.

Making a gag noise and sticking your tongue out, the coffee was bitter, but you were refreshed. Getting out of Dottore’s chair, you hurried off towards the door, but were promptly met with a harsh swing, almost sending you flying to the floor.

Regaining your balance, your eyes fell on Dottore looking through files in one hand, his other arm wrapped around a plant vase as clones dispersed from the other room, filling the lab within seconds as they floated to their own stations like clockwork. Taking a quick look, “ Where were you all?” You asked, head slightly tilting.

Dottore’s mask blocked the view of his mask, but you were able to tell he was giving you some type of stare. His lips thinned, waving the paper in front of your face to take it. Once you did, he began walking back to his desk. “I was collecting a sample, but I required help in holding down the subject.”

Your lips formed a silent ‘ah’ as he explained. He rambled his mouth about it for a moment, it was honestly getting tiring. That's when he suddenly called a clone over, waving him over with his free hand. As the clone planted his feet next to you, you noticed it was one of them without the mask covering their eyes. You enjoyed seeing your reflection in their crystal clear vermillion eyes, which prompted you to wave to him.

His head turned, giving you the hint of a smile. But this happened to be the moment he missed Dottore handing him the plant, the original’s head turned reading off a document on where to place it and instructions on how it should be treated.

The lab went silent, the only sound being the echoing of ceramic colliding with the ground. Dottore turned his head slowly, you both could tell he was looking down at the plant’s soil sprawled all over the ground.

His head suddenly snapped towards you, “Fix it” He ordered.

When cleaning a few months back, you managed to connect with a Dendro vision from one of his experiments, he allowed you to keep it.

You nodded frantically, crouching down to collect the soil and the plant and reform it. Activating your vision was another story though, the soil took the form of a vase, but it instantly crumbled as you let out a sharp yelp and hugged your stomach.

Neither Dottore nor his clone said anything, the clone just scurried off to go get cleaning supplies.

Dottore’s gloved hand harshly gripped your shoulder, taking you out of your hunched over position and pushing you hard against the cabinets of his desk, head banging against the cold metal. The feeling made you groan, your eyes were shut until this moment but the harsh light of the ceiling above pried your eyes open.

It wasn’t til you opened your eyes did you notice how fast your heart was, how heavy your breathing was. All you felt earlier once you used your vision as just how hot your core felt. Now that heat spreads to your face, your chest and even ears the longer you gazed at your boss.

Dottore’s mouth felt agape slightly, that's when you whined and leaned forward again, seeking out the warmth his touch gave you.

As your hands grabbed his, bringing it closer to your face, all the harbinger could do was stare. It was complete silence for a moment, all you could hear was the beating of your own heart and the buzzing of those damn lights.

“Fuck”

He muttered the word over and over again, he stood up, swiping his hand away from you. As he stood up to walk into his other office, wanting to avoid the problem entirely. His legs paused, hearing you whined out his name. Your legs wobbled pathetically as you hoisted yourself up, using the corner of his desk to try and stand yourself up.

Everything was overwhelming, the buzzing, the lights and the fact that the bastard won’t come back over here and hide you from it all.

He had been staring, but he pulled his head away again and kept his focus on the door ahead. Gloved hand twisting the doorknob, he was greeted by his ginger haired co-worker, standing there with his hands cupped together. “‘Morning!” He said, overly peppy. “Do you have some extra paper? My office just ran out and my errand girl is out right now..Could I borrow some?”

Dottore opened his mouth for a minute, about to tell Childe to go and fetch it himself. But as he turned around to go and look at his own supply, he saw you, pathetically catching your breath on the ground, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.

Then he thought about it, the last person that needed to be around you was Childe. No, you would actually need Childe in a situation like this.

It was Childe he didn’t want you to be around.

The man said it himself, his little errand girl was out, he could spare a few minutes fixing you right up. But Dottore didn’t want that. He didn’t want his little errand girl happily getting relief from someone else, he began imagining it.

The way your nails would dig into his shoulders and back, the way his moan would spill out your lips like some kind of unholy prayer. The way your body would shake around his shaft, milking him,

The way you would cling to him like you needed him.

God, he needs you

Dottore shook his head. “No, my clones ate all my papers, ask Capitano.” He shut the door before Childe could process the first words.

Right after shutting the door, Dottore made a B-line to you. Watching your form be huddled under the desk, he almost felt bad, almost. It was something more of some type of instinct wanting to keep you to himself.

He hired you, he trained you and promoted you. He held your hands, teaching you how to do his signature for when he was too busy too. And he held your hand, guiding you and helping you off those high carriages at events when your dress was just a bit too long.

You basically belong to him at this point, whether you like it or not he’s taking you back to one of the more private rooms.

He usually wasn’t like this, not at all. The normal Dottore would’ve left you to fend for yourself, let Childe come in there and whisk you off somewhere else.

It was a blur, now he’s got your arms wrapped around his neck. The walk from the lab to the room was gone and forgotten, but all that matters now is you in his arms. You nestled your head into his neck, whining from the contact, his fingers snaked under your chin and tilted it up to meet his masked gaze. “You understand these are the effects of those plants, and not your own feelings–”

You groaned and threw your head back a bit, “I’m aware…” His fingers caressed your jaw, sounds coming out of you that you never knew you were able to produce.

“You can go ahead…Let's get this over with.” Giving him permission was all he needed.

His lips attached to yours, hands leaving your face and jumping down to start undressing you. Gloved fingers undoing buttons as his teeth nipped and tongue swirled at your mouth. It was messy, extremely messy. The sounds of your lips meeting then parting, the constant gasps for air and those noises in between.

Dottore got your top layer off, not bothering to put it somewhere neatly, he opted for half mindly throwing it across the room. His mouth traveled down from your lips to your neck, letting his teeth mark it up as his hands needily undid your pants, easily sliding them down your legs.

He pulled his face away, you were confused for a moment. Though it didn’t last long.

Your hands flew over your mouth, though it was no use, hearing your own whines of pleasure echo around the room. He had spread your thighs apart and put his head between them, his mouth teasing your core with his hot breath.

The overload of pleasure was too much, you felt your senses go into overdrive, your fingers digging into his hair as you searched for something to latch onto. As wobbly moans left you, Dottore’s hand gripped your thighs, squeezing them and hoisting them over his shoulders. Your top half falling back onto the cold table, the temperature running onto your skin and causing you to shiver.

He muttered curses under his breath, hands leaving your body. They traveled down his own, finding purchase at his zipper and hastily undoing it. His belt had to go as well, a few more sounds of shuffling and you looked up, seeing the harbinger desperately grind against your clothed cunt as he held your hips in place.

Soon, a smile graced his face. “Look at that..” Your ears burned with his deep laugh. “Right here…” His gloved fingers pressed into the soaked spot, causing you to throw your head back, fingers grasping for something to hold onto as your voice erupted with begging, pleading and everything in between.

His gloved fingers hooked both sides of your underwear, pulling them and throwing them off to the side of the room with your other clothes. His grin got wider, lifting his hand to his mouth, he pulled the gloves off with his teeth. He spit on his fingers and wasted no time sliding them into you.

A yelp left your lips, music to his ears. He felt your walls convulse and twitch around him, the warmth of his fingers and cold spit were very welcome. When he began to move them, he was fascinated by the way your legs twitched and you let out particular sounds as he went in certain directions.

What would you do if he curled his fingers? Would you squirm? Would you yelp? Or would you…

Oh

He was taken aback by how quickly you managed to spasm on just his fingers. He knew that the plant he got was quite potent but he never expected…This. He was getting greedy now, his fingers curled and prodded all those sensitive spots that had your back arching and fingers scrambling for surfaces that you knew you couldn’t get.

Pulling his fingers out, he licked the tip of them. Smiling with a cocky smirk, lowering his hands in your direction. “Dear, open up..” His voice was like a siren’s to you at this moment, you followed as he said and opened your mouth, eyes locked on his smile.

His hand crawled further up your hips, ingraining his finger prints on your waist.Your mind knew what was coming, thats why your tongue swirled around his fingers, letting him know you needed this.

Dottore’s free hand held his shaft, wondering how your body would respond once he finally bottomed out. He could basically taste it, how much needier you would become, your whines becoming louder and begging for more.

Shaky breaths left you, feeling as he buried himself in, inch by inch. Your mind was turning to mush, the pure heat of everything melting you inside and out. You babbled for more, probably, even though you didn’t know what you wanted him to do at this point.

All you knew was that you wanted him.

You bucked your hips, eyes filling with tears as you felt something you’ve never felt. His fingers traced down your waist, getting close to your hole. “Look at this…” He said, his voice oddly warm. His hand pressed down, hard. You let out a choked whine, struggling to catch your breath as he snapped his hips against yours.

Not that it hurt, or maybe it did, the pain and pleasure were mixing together at this point and you didn’t mind. Both of Dottore’s hands held your waist, no signs of stopping as his hips met yours, that sound of skin slapping against skin he didn’t think he needed for so long. No he yearned for it, he yearned for more of it.

The way you were reaching out for him, it was pathetic. “You’re pathetic..” He muttered. Grabbing your legs and sliding them closer to him, his hands held you as your hands wrapped around his neck once again.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, he got to hear all of his new favorite noises. He got to feel the way your body took him again and again, his hands guided your thighs on and off his hardness. Each moan out of you was a deep grunt or groan out of him, he couldn’t get enough.

He was drunk on you at this point, the very feeling of you was addicting. He cared little for the act of intimacy, but he’d be doing it a lot more often now with his favorite assistant.

Dottore’s head turned towards your ear, a devious smile on his lips. “Good girl…Just like that..” His teeth nipped at your ear. “Stay still, I’m going–”

Your legs tightened around his waist, heading shaking as your took in that deep musk of coffee he always had lingering around him. “No..Please just..” You swallowed and leaned your head against his neck. “Inside..”

He froze, his eyes widened under the mask, his mouth opened for a minute before he promptly shut it. “Needy, needy, needy..” He tsked, turned his head away, smiling as he sped up his movements.

Hips bucking and your walls tightening around him. It seemed you were going to be finishing with him, how poetic.

You heard his breathing picking up in your ear, that's when you raised your head and brought your hand to his cheek. Grabbing his chin and lowering it down to your lips, his tongue rushed inside your mouth.

The harbinger swallowed each and every noise that came from you, feeling the vibration of your mouth against his as you reacted to the warmth quickly filling you. Everytime you pulled away to get one or two breaths, you were quickly pulled back into that embrace by Dottore.

He finally emptied himself, you had a moment of peace before you felt that familiar feeling of quick movement, hands gripping your legs to slide you up and down his seemingly forever hard-on.

Fingers scratching his back, you whined and whimpered. It didn’t take long for you to begin muttering his name, he took extreme pride in this. “Hm..? Can’t you hear you..” His voice teased.

You groaned, throwing your head back as your body lifted up and down, making it hard to focus on the words you wanted out. “Fuck…Dottore Fuck!”

The harbinger’s own head got thrown back, relishing the moment he got with having you so needy like this. “That, I can definitely do for you..”

[hexesandroses]

Zandik, Sohreh and the Rishboland Tigers

Hello! Last night I began to think about Dottore just before falling asleep and now I'm back to write about something that's been bugging me for ages. This shouldn't be too long, but knowing myself I'll take it way too far so...!

Anyhow, every Dottore enjoyer knows of the Zandik's Legacy notes, and I'm sure everyone has their own theory on what happened between him, Sohreh and the investigation team he was with on Devantaka Mountain (if I remember correctly). Most people argue that he killed Sohreh just for the sake of it and lied about her being attacked by a pack of Rishboland Tigers, but I'd like to argue otherwise - she was attacked by the tigers first, and Zandik put Sohreh out of her misery as an act of mercy.

First and foremost, it's important to mention that Zandik and Sohreh, despite not having much in common (different Darshans, differences in their personalities etc) seemed to get along decently well. As written in Sohreh's Note,

"...Zandik and I discussed the traits of local plants and animals. We also exchanged views on their evolution models. We had a great time and decided to go on a picnic tonight..."

Despite their differences, Zandik made the effort to have a conversation with her and for him to agree to a picnic (hey, he could have offered first, you never know) means only that he was genuinely interested in Sohreh; if you have read my previous analysis about Dottore, then you might remember what I said about him and his loneliness and longing for companionship. If not, I will explain briefly: Zandik was rejected by his peers in the Akademiya. A monster, a madman, they deemed him, and it's easy to guess that he was very, very lonely. People were prejudiced against him, but here comes Sohreh - a Dastur who not only ignores the rumors about him, but is kind enough to talk to him, to want to see him more often. That must have been incredibly foreign to Zandik, who up until then had only known rejection and solitude.

With that said, why would he kill a girl?

Before I continue, I would like to note that we do not yet have a definitive timeline of these events. I am merely speculating based on what I know, so keep that in mind! I could very well be wrong when Dottore is released as a playable character and his Character Stories tell the true version of these events... anywho.

From reading the Ragged Attendance Record, we can understand that Zandik stubbornly acted by himself without caring to ask for permission:

"...Trainee Dastur Zandik has acted without authorization for the third time... It brings unpredictable risks to the investigation team... Punishment is advised..."

We know that Zandik meant to keep his research into these Ruin Machines secret; after all, investigating anything related to the fallen nation of Dahri was considered taboo back then.

The record continues,

"...Dastur Sohreh of Amurta has been critically injured under the attack of Rishboland Tigers. In need of first aid..."

Just what happened? It's unclear how she got injured. Can we assume that these records were written hours apart, perhaps? If so, assuming that Zandik had nothing to do with her injuries, how would he react to Sohreh getting hurt?

Moving on to the Sumeru Investigation Team's Note - this was very likely written after the Ragged Attendance Record, considering what we learn in it. It says:

"...Thank goodness, Zandik reacted quickly. Otherwise, the whole team would be in serious trouble...

...The terrifying killing machine has stopped. Zandik insisted on bringing it back to the Akademiya to be disassembled and reverse-engineered. That was absolutely ridiculous! Sage Sharnama reprimanded him and removed him from the author list.

...We buried Dastur Sohreh and sent the wounded back. Looks like this field research has come to an end..."

If we go over it line after line, we learn the following:

Zandik likely deactivated the Ruin Machine that attacked the Investigation Team. He must have gathered enough knowledge at that time to know how to deal with them himself; he also exposed that secret knowledge to the rest of the group, which only helped in strengthening the prejudice people had against him. Considering he acted so quickly, it must have been an instinct for him to solve the problem by himself/save the others.

The fact that he insisted on bringing the machine back could have played a role in the very reason why he got expelled from the Akademiya. This entire event could also be why studying mechanical life forms is now banned in Spantamad, which I believe to have been Zandik's Darshan.

Sohreh was already dead at that point, or she died shortly after the Ruin Machine attacked the group. Funny that they just buried her in the wilderness and left...

This begs one question: when would one even have the time to kill Sohreh? She was first attacked by a pack of Rishboland Tigers. Then, a Ruin Machine accidentally got activated, which Zandik quickly stopped, and there were even more people wounded - likely due to the aforementioned machine (oh, and if so, this might imply that Zandik hesitated to act). Of course, it could have been anyone else that choked Sohreh to death. It could be that someone just put the blame on Zandik because he was so hated. But if we are to assume that he and Sohreh shared some sort of bond, then perhaps he did it himself.

Indeed, for she was already terribly wounded. This is what the Dissection Records say about Sohreh:

"...The deceased...Dastur Sohreh... Multiple trauma wounds... Lacerations... contusions on internal organs... hemorrhage... ...But the fatal injury is the wound on the throat... fractured hyoid bone... Mechanical asphyxia... unable to ascertain the cause of death..."

So all makes sense - I don't even need to spell it out. What I should say is another thing; ignoring the messy timeline and half-assed guess I made about the chaotic events that took place that day, I should return to Sohreh and Zandik.

Zandik - rather, Dottore - is not an actor. He does not pretend to be someone he is not, and Escher doesn't count because that was for a mission. Aside from being a bit polite with Nahida, Dottore never, not once, pretended to be nicer than he really was nor shaped his identity a certain way to make it easier to digest for others. Think of webttore - an openly short-tempered and brash man with a complete disregard for how others perceive him. That's Dottore, and by extension, Zandik. Sohreh wrote that he was rigid - would that not be a trait one would hide if they wanted to put up a front? Moreover, Zandik would have no reason to fake being nice with Sohreh. There was nothing she could realistically give him that he actually wanted - nothing if not acceptance and friendship. Knowing Dottore and his buried want for companionship, Zandik must have been entranced by Sohreh's kindness and curiosity. That must have been rare for him to receive, having already been chased out of his hometown and openly rejected and shunned in the Akademiya.

Say they went on that picnic and found more things to bond over - would it not make sense that he would be the one to show her mercy? Sure, strangling someone is not painless; he could have lacked other options. Perhaps she asked him to do it, or he felt as if he had to - she was bleeding out and helpless in the wilderness, without access to medical aid. Zandik could have thought that she wouldn't make it and took pity on her. Or... well, who knows.

I don't know. With such little information, it's difficult to make out a clear picture of what could have gone down. What I do know is that killing her just for the sake of it makes little to no sense. Dottore is resourceful and only does things that benefit him and his research. How would killing a Dastur of a Darshan that he did not belong to help him in any way? People already despised him and he wouldn't so openly risk getting expelled and losing any means of conducting research. It just doesn't feel right to me, y'know?

Anyway, that's yet another convoluted Dottore theory from me. Remember: I myself am not very confident in it. I had only my own audacity and 4 tiny notes to write this, so! Anything could have happened with Sohreh - this is just my take on it. It's the one I prefer, anyway. I'll humanize anyone looool

Thanks for reading!

[etherealphosphor]

Shelved Emotions

⟡ Contains: Dottore x Gn!Reader, Sfw, Fluff, Dottore tries to hide/get rid of his feelings at first, Dottore’s segments like the reader

⟡ Dottore’s thoughts are in blue italics

⟡ Segment names/colors: Zeta, Delta, Theta, Epsilon

Dottore was frustrated. Despite his best efforts, he could not escape the weakness of human emotion. He devoted himself to his research, blocking out all distractions. He refused to let his feelings hinder him; they were the last thing keeping him from perfect, unbiased results.

He targeted his feelings toward you in particular. Dottore was partly angry and partly ashamed that he could even fancy someone; the mere idea was childish to him. What use was it to think about you, his errand runner, when scientific research was far more important?

However, every time you looked at him with those bright eyes or smiled sweetly at him, he was rendered speechless. How was it possible to feel this way about anyone? And how in the world could that someone possibly be more important to him than his experiments?

Dottore slowly began to lose all interest in his work, as his thoughts were starting to get in the way.

This has gone too far, and now I can no longer focus properly on my research. I must find a way to rid myself of these emotions.

And so, with that, Dottore got up from his desk and went off to look for something—anything—to aid him in his search. He began to walk towards the library, a fairly large room with shelf after shelf of informational books. While Dottore did have his own smaller personal collection of research books, there would be nothing about romance in any of them.

But before he could walk through the doorway, he began to hear familiar voices. This stopped him in his tracks, and he peeked into the room, staying quiet so as not to be seen.

There, he saw you surrounded by four of his segments. It was obvious to Dottore that all of them were competing for your attention, and there was no way you hadn’t noticed as well.

"So, [Name], which one of us do you think is the best segment?" Delta said, smiling at you.

"Oh, well, I don’t know—"

You were quickly cut off by Theta, who began to make sarcastic remarks as usual. "It’s obviously me; I mean, I'm the perfect version. Who wouldn’t pick me?"

"Hm, personally, I think that [Name] likes me the most. After all, I’m closest to the original." Zeta said, tilting your chin up with one hand.

Epsilon grabbed Zeta’s hand away, scowling at him. "Maybe [Name] would prefer somebody a little less—I don’t know—cold?"

"Woah, calm down, Shorty. You don’t have to give him the death glare." Theta chuckled, patting Epsilon’s head.

"Hey! I’m not that short!"

Epsilon was the youngest of the four, which meant he was often teased for his height. He also happened to be the feistiest, making it even more entertaining for Theta to poke fun at him.

Delta had to physically restrain Epsilon so that he wouldn’t start attacking Theta. "Epsilon, please, he’s not worth getting worked up over."

Meanwhile, Zeta took the opportunity to start playing with your hair. "[Name], do you have a significant other?"

Dottore had had enough of this, and he quickly walked into the library.

"You four. What is going on here?" Dottore’s expression was dark, and he spoke in a very harsh tone.

Instantly, Epsilon stopped struggling, Delta’s grip loosened, Theta stopped laughing, and even Zeta’s ever-present smirk faded.

"Oh, uh.. boss, we can explain—" Epsilon stammered, but was cut off by Dottore.

"I want no explanations. You all must clean my office, and if it isn’t spotless by the time I get back, you will all face great consequences. Do you understand? And especially you, Zeta. We will be having a conversation later."

The four segments turned to each other, silently exchanging looks of shock.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go, now!"

Quickly, all the segments left the library, leaving Dottore alone with you.

"Are you okay, [Name]?" Dottore said, his tone much gentler than it was a minute ago.

"Yeah, I’m fine; can you please not punish them too harshly? I’m the one who greeted them first. Why did you even send them away at all? They didn’t have any work to do." You replied, looking at Dottore with eyes full of concern.

Dottore’s heart lurched with jealousy. Why couldn’t you worry about him like that? Why did it have to be his segments?

"I have my reasons. Please don’t be afraid; I won’t do anything bad to them. Mostly just scold them for bothering you, that’s all."

"They weren’t bothering me, not a bit. I actually quite enjoy their company; without them, my day off would be quite uneventful." You said, determined to clear the segments’ names.

"Ah, very well, then. I’ll go a little easier on them in that case." Dottore sighed. There was no way he could say no to those eyes of yours.

"Thank you; I’m glad." You smiled at him.

That small action was enough to make Dottore blush. "No problem. Anyway, what are you doing in the library? Looking for something to read?"

"Well, obviously," you chuckled, "but I can’t find anything good; it all seems a little boring to me."

"That would be because this is a research library. If fiction is what you are looking for, you won’t find it here."

"Oh, that’s a shame, then." You looked a little disappointed, your voice losing its usual bright tone. "I haven’t had anything to read for months."

No, no. I mustn’t say it. It isn’t necessary. I don’t have to. Aren't I trying to stop these pesky feelings from happening? Nothing is stopping me from bidding [Name] farewell right here. But.. they look so upset.

However, despite Dottore trying to stop himself, he ended up saying it anyway.

"Why don’t you come back to my personal chambers? I believe I have a shelf of various works of fiction in there. If you wish, you can have everything; I have no need for any of them."

Your eyes lit up. "Wait, really? You do? I’d love to go check it out and maybe borrow a few. Though, I would never take your books from you, even if you don’t see a need for them right now. You might want them in the future; you never know."

"I suppose you are correct. Well then, shall we?" Dottore extended his hand as a polite gesture. What he didn’t expect was for you to actually take it.

You wrapped your fingers around Dottore's, smiling at him. "Mhm, let’s go."

Dottore’s face went red, and his eyes widened a little. His hand tightened around yours, and he began to lead you towards his room. To get to it, one must go through his office first, and so Dottore opened the door and walked in.

There, the four segments were standing, awaiting Dottore’s return. When they saw your hand in his, all of them felt secretly disappointed, wishing it was them who got to hold your hand. Except for Epsilon—with him, it was no secret. He was glaring jealously at Dottore as you two walked by.

"Shorty, fix your face." Theta said, nudging him.

"Stop saying I’m short!"

"Epsilon, stop yelling, or you will be disciplined further. Do you want to clean the rest of the offices in the headquarters?" Dottore spoke coldly.

"No, I don’t. Sorry, boss."

With that, Dottore unlocked the door leading to his room and led you inside. His heart was still beating quicker than usual, but he was starting to get used to the feeling of having your hand in his. He decided to leave the door open, as the last thing he wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable.

"Well, this is my room. It’s nothing special, but it serves its purpose. Over there by the window should be the shelf I was speaking about." Dottore pointed to it and sat down on his bed.

You looked over the contents of the shelf until a series of teal books caught your eye. All of them were quite banged up and evidently pretty old.

"Woah, is this what I think it is? I can’t believe you have it." You said as you pulled the first one off the shelf.

"Hm? [Name], did you find something you like?"

"Oh my gosh, all eleven volumes? I didn’t even get that far." You smiled, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

In your hands, you held the first volume of The Fox in the Dandelion Sea. Dottore got up and walked behind you, staring down at the book.

"The Fox in the Dandelion Sea? Isn’t that a fairytale?" Dottore asked, wondering what interest you would have in a children’s book.

"Mhm, it’s my favorite. My parents used to read it to me before bed when I was a kid, but we never ended up finishing the whole series." You told him, smiling down at the book.

"Ah, I see. Well, feel free to take as many as you want; I know they aren’t particularly lengthy. You can come back at any time if you don’t want to take the entire series with you at once."

You grabbed five books off the shelf, holding them under one arm. "Thank you so much, Dottore."

"Anytime, seriously. It’s not as if I’m doing anything with them." Dottore said as he walked with you towards the door of his office.

"Aww, are you leaving already, [Name]? Not even going to say goodbye?" Zeta teased as Dottore opened the door for you.

"Ah, where are my manners? I’ll see you guys later." You said as you waved to the segments.

Then, smiling at Dottore, you lowered your voice a little. "I really appreciate you letting me borrow these books; it means a lot to me."

Suddenly, you wrapped your arms around Dottore, pulling him into an embrace.

Dottore’s face instantly went red. "I- Uh- [Name]? What are you doing?"

"Ah! I’m sorry. You’re my boss; that was weird. I apologize if I crossed a boundary." You let go, mortified, and you stared at your feet, a blush slowly creeping onto your face.

"Oh no, no. It’s okay; don’t worry. I was just a little surprised, that’s all; you didn’t make me uncomfortable." Dottore affectionately ruffled your hair, assuring you it was okay.

This made you blush even more, and you smiled at Dottore again before walking out. "Have a nice evening, Dottore. Don’t overwork yourself, okay? You have an awful habit of burning yourself out."

"You too, [Name]." Dottore smiled back, waving as you left.

Once he closed the door, Dottore’s expression instantly turned neutral again. His segments were all staring at him.

"Boss, what was that? You seriously didn’t make a move?" Theta said, sounding quite annoyed.

"What do you mean by that, Theta?"

"You seriously don’t know? How thick is your skull?"

"Rude."

"I might be rude, but at least I can take a hint."

"Do you really want extra chores? Because that is what you will get if you continue speaking to me like that."

"Hmmph. You really need to lighten up."

Dottore ignored Theta’s comment. "Theta, are you suggesting that there’s a possibility that [Name] could reciprocate my feelings?"

Delta joined the conversation. "Boss, to me, it’s very obvious that [Name] fancies you. Their face went a bright shade of red when they hugged you, and they also seem to care quite a bit about your health. Plus, I don’t think there’s any chance that the way they look at you is platonic."

Dottore’s eyes opened a little wider. "A-Are you sure? Is that really what you think?"

"There’s no doubt in my mind, boss."

Over the next few days, Dottore was constantly flustered by you simply doing your job. So much to the point where he couldn't even do his research; all he could think about was you.

Once, you brought Dottore some papers he needed to sign, and when handing them to him, your hands brushed for a moment. Even that small action gave Dottore butterflies, and he promptly looked away from you so you wouldn’t see him blushing.

That night, Dottore called Delta into his office.

"Delta, you’ve always been one of my most rational segments. Which is why I wanted to ask you if maybe you could help me with this problem." Dottore said, looking across his desk at Delta.

"I can always help out, boss. Is this concerning [Name]?"

Dottore nodded. "Yes, it’s about exactly what you think it is. I’ve come to find that I cannot get rid of my feelings, nor can I hide them. I have come to embrace them, and I accept that I am truly in love with [Name]. However, I still wish to find another way to stop these thoughts from interfering with my work."

"Well, I suppose you could confess to them? If [Name] admits to liking you as well—which they probably will—you might begin to feel less nervous as you get more comfortable with them. And if they tell you that they don’t feel the same, then at least you will have your peace of mind."

Dottore sighed. "I guess you’re right. However, I heavily doubt that I could muster up the courage to confess to them in person; I’d have no idea what to say."

"You could always send them a letter and a gift." Delta suggested.

"That’s a good idea, yeah. But what kind of thing would they like?" Dottore thought for a moment. "Oh! I know!"

Dottore quickly got up from his desk and walked into his room to grab the first five volumes of The Fox in the Dandelion Sea, which you had returned a couple days ago.

"Boss, what did you think of?" Delta asked as Dottore put the books down on his desk.

"I’m going to recreate these books from scratch. I’ll make the cover, write the words, and illustrate the pages. You can tell [Name] to take the whole week off, say that I’m working on something confidential and I need total concentration. It shouldn’t take me too long; I’ve done the process a couple times in the past. Especially because these are such small books, with only a couple pages each."

"Don’t overwork yourself, boss. I know how much [Name] worries about you. You have all the time in the world to get your gift ready." Delta said, watching Dottore gather papers and pens.

"They really worry for me that much?" Dottore looked up at Delta, his eyes widening a little.

"Oh, definitely. [Name] mentions it all the time."

"Well, that's very sweet of them." Dottore said, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Delta nodded. "It is. Now, boss, is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Ah, yes, there is; can you possibly find me a dandelion plant?" Dottore asked him.

"Sure, I can do that, no problem. I’ll check the stores in town." Delta replied, turning around and walking towards the door.

"Before you go, I have a question for you."

"Yes, what is it?" Delta looked back at him with his hand on the doorknob.

"Why are you helping me? I know you like [Name] as well; why do you bother? Shouldn’t you be trying to woo them like the other three?"

Delta smiled. "The other three know that they have no chance, boss. Sure, they might try to flirt with [Name], but they don’t actually expect [Name] to reciprocate. The situation is a little different with me, as I don’t try to flirt with them as much. We segments pick up on things you don’t, boss; I know that [Name] would be much happier in a relationship with you. Which is why I don’t even bother trying hard; I already know the outcome."

"What? You’re really that sure that [Name] likes me?" Dottore responded, eyes wide.

"I am indeed, boss." Delta said as he walked out.

Over the next few days, Dottore was constantly cooped up in his office, working on your gift. There was even a sign on the door warning anyone other than his segments not to come in. Dottore barely slept at all, and when he did, it was at his desk.

However, after many sleepless nights, he did eventually manage to finish your gift. There in front of him sat five beautifully made fairytale books, even prettier than the original. The illustrations inside the book were painted with watercolor and outlined in ink, giving them a lovely aesthetic. Dottore flipped through all of them once more, making sure everything was of the finest quality.

Then he began to write you a letter.

"Dear [Name],

I’m aware that you must have picked up on my strange behavior as of late, and I must apologize if it has concerned you. In truth, there is something I must come clean about. I have fallen deeply in love with you, [Name]. I cannot keep this confession to myself for any longer, or else I fear it may eat me from the inside out. If you do not reciprocate my feelings, I completely understand. I will have you immediately switched to run errands for a different harbinger, and your pay will not change. You do not even have to speak to me. If you do wish to have a conversation about this, though, I will be in my private chambers. The door is unlocked.

Sincerely, Il Dottore"

Once he had sealed the letter in an envelope, he set it down on top of the books. Then, reaching over to the pot on his desk, Dottore plucked a grey dandelion and set it down on top of the stack. Once he was done, he stood up and grabbed a length of brown string, wrapping the gift nicely so that nothing would slide off.

Just then, Delta came to check in on him, as he did every once in a while. "Boss, how is everything going?"

"Oh, hello, Delta. Things have been just fine. All I need to do now is put my gift in [Name]’s room so that they’ll find it later. Since it’s late in the morning, shouldn’t [Name] be in the library? Could you possibly distract them for me, just to make sure nothing goes wrong?"

"Of course, boss. That’ll be no problem." Delta responded, walking out of the office with Dottore trailing behind him.

Once they reached the library, Delta went off to chat with you, and Dottore continued walking. He stopped in front of the door to your room and tried the doorknob. It wasn’t locked. Quickly walking inside, Dottore set the stack of books down on your desk and got out. The last thing he wanted was to invade your space more than he had to.

I won’t get my hopes up, even if Delta and the others are telling me that [Name] has romantic feelings for me. I don’t want to be disappointed. Even if they don’t like me, I hope they treasure my gift.

Dottore was deep in thought as he walked past the library, but snapped out of it when he heard Delta’s voice.

"Boss, did your business go according to plan?"

Dottore stopped walking and looked at him, saying, "Delta, come now; we have things to attend to."

Delta got up from the chair he was sitting in. "Ah, yes, boss. I’ll see you later, [Name]."

Delta waved goodbye to you and began to head back to the office with Dottore. Dottore seemed lost in thought, staring at his feet.

"Are you nervous, boss?"

"Yes, Delta, I am very nervous. How could I not be? I could lose [Name] if things don’t go well." Dottore said, his voice shaking with worry.

"It’ll be okay; I wouldn’t assure you of something I wasn’t completely sure about. [Name] really does like you, boss." Delta comforted Dottore, sensing that he was on the edge of a panic attack.

"I really hope you’re right, Delta." Dottore replied as they reached his office.

"Boss, I have a question: what happens next? You haven’t told me your whole plan."

"In the letter, I told them that if they want to chat with me, I will be waiting here." Dottore explained as he opened the door to his room.

Meanwhile, you had gotten up from where you had been reading and made your way back to your room. Opening the door, you walked inside and found a small stack of books on your desk with a dandelion on top.

What is this?

You untied the string binding the books together and picked up the envelope addressed to you underneath the flower. Tearing it open, you took out the letter and began to read it.

As you scanned the text, your eyes widened. Not even bothering to look at the gift Dottore had prepared for you, you started to run to his office. His amazing craftsmanship could be admired later, but you needed to tell him how you felt immediately.

Catching your breath at the door, you opened it and walked inside. Delta was sitting at Dottore’s desk, but you didn’t even notice him.

You knocked on the door that led into Dottore’s room, saying, "Hey, Dottore? You’re in there, right?"

"I am; come in."

When you opened the door, you found Dottore sitting on the end of his bed, his back turned to you, and his head in his hands. Silently, you sat down next to him.

"Dottore, look at me, please." You spoke in a soft tone.

Dottore looked up, his beautiful red eyes filled with worry. It was obvious that he was assuming the worst. You smiled at him, wrapped your arms around his neck, and kissed him.

At first, Dottore was caught off guard, but soon he pulled you into his embrace, careful not to break the kiss. He poured all his love and affection into that kiss, eager to show you just how much you meant to him.

Although neither of you wanted to, eventually you had to pull away to catch your breath.

Putting your hand on Dottore’s cheek, you stared into his eyes. "I love you, Dottore. I always have. Everything about you drives me crazy. Your eyes, your hair, your voice—everything. To the point where I can’t even think straight."

"I love you too, [Name]. Words cannot describe how lucky I am to have you in my life."

Dottore leaned back in, passionately kissing you once more as he held you close to him.

[phoenixblaze1412]

I've been reading your works now and then, and i gotta say its all really enjoyable. This is my first time making a req, but i've always imagined dottore not wanting to let his wife go even in death, so he when she dies bcuz of a fatui mission or smth dottore goes 'no☠️' and just revives she and makes her some kind of zombie?? Its the type that has stiches around their body. So dottore can go like 'hey bbg r u hurt let me fix u up!!🥰❤️'

This is based on my oc x canon so don't mind me if im weird. Thank you so much for everything you do!

The Fatui headquarters was eerily silent, save for the faint hum of machines in Dottore’s lab. He stood hunched over a surgical table, his gloved hands trembling slightly as he worked with meticulous precision.

You lay there, lifeless yet beautiful, even in death. The wounds from the failed mission that claimed your life were gruesome, but to him, they were merely challenges to overcome.

"No," he muttered to himself, voice laced with desperation. "I won't let you go. Not now. Not ever."

His segments watched from the shadows, each with varying expressions. Theta tilted his head, curious and unbothered. Omega, the eldest and most stoic, crossed his arms but said nothing. Zeta adjusted his glasses, clearly uneasy but unwilling to interrupt.

“Is this wise?” Zeta finally dared to ask.

Dottore didn’t even glance up. “Wise or not, it’s necessary. She belongs with me.”

The process took days. Dottore refused to rest, his focus singular. He replaced damaged organs, stitched torn muscles, and mended broken bones with care that bordered on obsessive.

Finally, the moment came. With a surge of electro energy coursing through your body, your chest rose as if taking in a breath for the first time. Your eyes fluttered open, hazy but alive. Dottore leaned over you, his mask discarded for once, his crimson eyes burning with intensity.

“Welcome back, my love.”

At first, waking up was disorienting. Your body felt different, your movements were stiffer and the faint pull of stitches reminded you of your altered state.

“I… I’m alive?” you asked, voice hoarse.

“Yes,” Dottore said, a rare softness in his tone as he cupped your cheek. “You’re alive, and you’re mine once more, forever.”

You looked down at your hands, noticing the faint lines of stitches trailing across your wrists. “What… what did you do, Dottore?”

“I saved you,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You didn’t think I’d let you leave me, did you?”

Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but stare at him, still processing your current situation. “But I'm.. different.”

“So? You’re still perfect as ever,” he countered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The segments, of course, had varying opinions about your resurrection.

Theta held your hand and placed it along his cheek, grinning as he stared at you in awe. “Does this mean she’s indestructible now? Can I test it?”

He earned a sharp glare from Dottore and a flick on the forehead from you.

Omega tilted his head and hummed. “It’s unnatural, but.. I suppose it was inevitable, given his obsession. Either way, as long as I am able to see them again. I am fine with it."

Zeta smiled as he handed you a glass of water to drink, looking over the stitches the doctor has done and nodded in satisfaction at how methodically well it was stitched. “At least she seems to be adjusting well. And.. she does make the lab feel more cheerful.”

You smiled and laughed at their bickering, grateful for their unique personalities and happy to have them with you. Dottore deciding to ignore his segments as he focused his gaze on you, caressing your cheek adoringly.

----------

Living as a stitched-together version of yourself was an adjustment but Dottore’s unwavering love made it easier.

One evening as you sat in his lab patching up a tear in your arm, he walked over with a smirk.

“Hello, my love,” he teased, crouching in front of you as he held up a needle and thread up in his hand and grinned. “Are you hurt? Let me fix you up.”

You rolled your eyes but handed him the needle. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And yet, you adore me for it,” he replied, his hands deftly repairing the stitches with the same care he’d shown during your resurrection.

----------

Though your body was different, your love for each other remained unchanged. If anything, it deepened. You had always known Dottore’s devotion ran deep, but seeing the lengths he’d go to keep you by his side was overwhelming.

One night, as you lay together in his quarters, his arms wrapped around you protectively, you traced a finger over the stitches on your stomach.

“Does this bother you?” you asked softly.

He frowned, pulling you closer. “No. It reminds me that you’re here. With me. That’s all that matters.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You’re crazy.. going this far as resurrecting me is ridiculously mad.”

“And what of it? You’re mine. Even in death, we shall never part,” he whispered, his voice filled with uncharacteristic tenderness as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

In Dottore’s eyes, you were perfection, stitched together, alive, and irrevocably his and only his.