#dottore's is from an experiment gone wrong

[cosmichawk]

some harbingers with facial scars

[stellar-skyy]

FAMILY (OF SORTS) — Platonic Fatui Harbingers & reader.

i. SUMMARY: The Fatui Harbingers have a soft spot for Arlecchino's child. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: STRICTLY PLATONIC, headcanons, fluff, parent!arlecchino, house of the hearth!reader, all of the harbingers are reader's weird aunts and uncles, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.6k words. iv. A/N: the fatui are just a dysfunctional found family and i will die on this hill. shoutout to @romaritimeharbor for listening to my rambles about this idea 🫶🫶 also pierro and pulcinella aren't here because i could not think of anything to write for them :')

All of the harbingers knew about Arlecchino’s child; the one that appeared in Fatui Headquarters stuck to her side, eyes cast to the floor. They all saw the way that Arlecchino had held a soft grip on their shoulder, guiding them through the halls with the gentle touch of a parent from the gentle hands of a monster.

The Knave always swore she didn’t play favourites, but from an outside view it was clear that they held a special place separate from the rest. Anyone could see the way they appeared so much more frequently by her side. They were permitted to sit in on meetings, following her like a shadow. Some of the Harbingers guessed that she had picked them to be her successor; that their frequent shadowing was training them to take over once she was gone. Others joked about Arlecchino’s apparent soft side taking over. Whatever the reason, time went on, and the Fatui saw more and more of them.

All of them varied in their opinions of them—some indifferent, some fond—but the Harbingers all cared for them in their own ways.

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Columbina simply adores them. They’re just so small and cute, so tiny and fragile! Admittedly, her idea of ‘tiny’ is rather skewed—applying to anyone she deems weaker than her (notably, this label also gets given to Capitano and Tartaglia, despite their larger size and physical strength. The Damselette is truly an enigma.)

Whenever Arlecchino allows her to watch over them, she is delighted. She has a penchant for pet names, so ‘angel’, ‘my sweet’, and ‘lovely’ are all more commonly used than their name. Sometimes there’s a ‘baby’ or ‘bub’ if she’s feeling particularly affectionate, but no matter the name, it is always dripping with sweetness. She’ll sing to them too, to calm them down or get them to sleep. Her voice is gentle, laced with as much love as she would show her own child.

Some Fatui believe Columbina is a woman formed from hollow sweetness; that behind the lazy smile and soft voice, lies a callous and unfeeling heart, but her insistence on singing them to sleep comes from a place of genuine affection.

When they have to return home, she’ll kiss their cheeks and sweep them into a hug, making them promise to visit her soon.

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The fact that Arlecchino would tear out his throat with her bare hands if he dared to look at them the wrong way is the only thing stopping Dottore from roping [Name] into one of his experiments. Even then, he can’t help but investigate them a bit. Nothing extreme—please put the knife down, Knave—just some simple trials to see how they work. A quick strength assessment, a test of their reflexes, enough to judge the effectiveness of the House of the Hearth’s training.

The segments all had different opinions of them, varying from Prime’s general indifference to some of the younger segments fondness towards them. The latter were less likely to try to trick them into the lab—not that Arlecchino would allow them anywhere near it without strict supervision—and instead focused their efforts on convincing them to help mess with the rest of the Dottores. They proved to be an excellent partner in crime to thoroughly ruin the older segment’s day.

Despite his assertion that he won’t harm them, Dottore tends to be the one Arlecchino trusts least around her child. His unwillingness to get on her bad side doesn’t stop her from insisting Columbina or herself accompany them whenever they visit his lab.

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Tartaglia loves them. The days he gets to see his siblings are few and far between, so he’s always eager to play the older brother for them, and for any other House of the Heath kids that stop by. In fact, whenever any of the children visit, he makes sure to buy them plenty of sugary treats and candies before quickly sending them back to their Father.

(Arlecchino was not happy the first time this happened. It didn’t stop him from doing it every time, though.)

He was the first to convince them to call him Uncle, a feat that he bragged about to the rest of the Harbingers. This small incident would inadvertently lead to a petty competition to see who their favourite is, an event that would quickly spiral out of control with bribery and promises coming from all sides.

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Sandrone is very particular with who she allows in her workshop. When the rare guest was allowed inside, they had to follow three simple rules: do not touch anything, do not move unless I tell you to, and do not talk to me while I work. When [Name] first stumbled into the room, she was prepared to discourteously shoo them out the way she did whenever Tartaglia poked his head in to see what she was working on. But after some extensive begging, she relented and sat them down in a corner to watch her work. 

Even if she is far less fond of them as some of the other Harbingers, she still audibly squeaked the first time she was called Aunt Sandrone. This was covered up with a cough, but nothing could stop the warmth blooming in her chest. It was the first time a living creature had addressed her with such a familial title; some of her synthetic creations had a habit of calling her Mother, but this was a living, breathing person.

After they started calling her that, she quietly told them they were free to visit when she was working—provided they did not interfere with anything. 

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As much as he denies it, Scaramouche has a big soft spot for kids. He’ll swear up and down that he doesn’t care for them at all, but he treats them noticeably gentler than he treats any other member of the Fatui. Arlecchino once caught them huddled against him, using his wide-brimmed hat to shelter from the rain. She never let him forget that moment—the fearsome Balladeer, who notoriously never let anyone close enough to touch him, allowing her child to use him as an umbrella.

They remind him a little too much of the young boy he once considered his family. Whenever he spends time with them, there is something inside that both urges him to protect them in the way he couldn’t protect that child, and warns keep them at arm’s length before they betray him too. But his endearment towards them prevailed, and he begrudgingly allowed them a place in his heart.

Unlike Columbina’s affectionate pet names, the only nicknames Scaramouche gives them are ‘kid’ and ‘brat’, depending on his mood. On good days, they might even get called by their name, though it is a rarity. He cares for them, truly. In his own, strange way.

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Capitano is the best at giving advice out of all the harbingers. He is much more down to earth than Columbina and Dottore, and far less cynical than Scaramouche and Sandrone. He’ll let them ramble about their frustrations freely before offering gentle suggestions on what they should do to help. Even if they aren’t looking for a solution, he’s patient enough to hear out their thoughts, however jumbled and incoherent they may be.

He also likes teaching them skills he deems important for a young person to know. These include cooking—Tartaglia is not allowed to join them in these lessons after he almost burnt down the kitchen trying to ‘help’—as well as sewing and mending clothes.  

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Pantalone never would describe himself as parental. He never cared too much for kids; he hadn’t enough patience to deal with constantly crying babies or needy toddlers. Arlecchino’s child was thankfully far above that age, so they were less unbearable to deal with.

He was quite happy to spoil them with extravagant gifts and treats to win their favour, but the most effective way he does so is simply spending time with them. Trips to luxurious restaurants for lunch, allowing them to shadow him while he works. He also likes to give them advice—completely unasked for—about life, and relationships. Unlike Capitano however, his advice is of a much less helpful; he has a habit of advocating for blackmail for solving problems.

In exchange for a box of the most expensive pastries in Teyvat, he got them to call him their favourite uncle in front of Tartaglia. The miniscule dent in his funds was worth the look of betrayal on the younger Harbinger’s face.

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Signora easily took the longest to warm up to them. When she first met them, it was easy enough to label them as Arlecchino’s brat and move them from her mind. But they kept appearing, in and around the headquarters. At first they were always glued to the Knave’s side, but eventually Signora began to see them wandering alone through the halls. She took note of them—not out of any attachment to them, only out of self-preservation knowing that if Arlecchino found out her child landed themself into trouble while she was close by, it would be her funeral soon.

The sense of obligation faltered when she started to grow fond of them. They were irritatingly innocent, a rarity within the Fatui. Something about the spark in their eyes reminded her of when she was young—when she still had warmth in her heart and blood in her veins. For the first time in centuries, her frozen heart began to thaw with care towards another person, and begrudgingly, she began to accept that they were not as unpleasant as she once believed.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[angelsrcute]

I think we have a spy!

★ Warnings: Exhibitionism, non-con?, breath play, knife play, edging, reader w no prns but female genitalia mentioned.

You were supposed to be enemies, so what were you doing here,in this situation?

The knight of favonius had sent you as a spy to collect information about the fatui. You got in easily and took down a fatui agent, taking their clothes and dressing up. Everything was going well until you were called by dottore, while talking he noticed something was off about you. He stopped working and went to you. Shit . You were caught, you suddenly wanted to disappear into thin air.

His dick pounding into your cunt roughly as he kisses you, his tongue slipping into your mouth. His hands choke your neck as your vision goes foggy. Another thrust and you feel something building up inside you which is suddenly gone, he stops fucking you. He brings a knife and slowly cuts into your flesh, writing his name. You silently scream due to the blood oozing out your skin, your voice rough from shouting and crying. This so wrong, but it feels too good and it's not like you can escape so you accept your fate and keep getting fucked. The fatui agents have been watching you like this for quite some time, they don't utter a single word. The agents get hard seeing you like this. Dottore comes inside you for the second time, cooing praises into your ear. You finally pass out when his movements stop. Your vision goes black as you don't know what will happen to you but you can hear him saying something.

“Oh, sweet pet, you're so cute when you're helpless! Maybe I will turn you into my little experiment? Don't worry, I'll be gentle.” he smirks and carries your unconscious body away.

[fatuismooches]

Angst time :3 💕

The Traveller takes down several Fatui resources to cripple them, specifically Dottore's channels since he is currently the biggest threat so far between the Eleven, he had presented himself as someone cunning and wouldn't stop for anything for his research. Rigid and unreasonable unless there is a bargaining chip.

The Traveller spares nothing. From the Traveller partnering up with Beidou to sink multiple Fatui vessels carrying materials. To going after the many, many Fatui stations in Sumeru with Dehya and Candace.

The Traveller did so in hopes of making Dottore more agreeable, he won't listen to anything unless control has been taken from him.

It works, but not in the way the Traveller had anticipated.

Dottore laid down arms not because of his experiments slowing down to a mere crawl, no - it's because his lover's condition has grown severe.

All those channels the Traveller had pruned? They had the materials needed to create the medicine his lover needed on a daily basis.

All those rare cultivated materials, gone. Either lost to sea or set ablaze. Ever since the cut-off, Prime himself and his segments have been scrambling to look for alternatives in Snezhnaya until they could get a hold of the proper materials.

But it is not enough, his lover his rapidly deteriorating and he could only stall it.

What has the Traveller done...? Unwittingly holding the Second Harbinger's heart hostage by chance. They can now make their demands, but - the Traveller is certain that Dottore will soon retaliate once this crisis is over.

The Doctor was not a man to mess with.

Well, any normal person wouldn't mess with any of the Harbingers in general, but it's no surprise that Il Dottore is especially on this list, taking into account his sheer strength, along with intelligence and cleverness that was hard to find elsewhere. The Traveler was no stranger to this, considering everything that went down in Sumeru as well as the numerous other deeds the Harbinger had done. Not to mention they remember how tough the Knave was, they couldn't fathom what Dottore was capable of. So although this isn't their usual course of action, they don't hold anything back. It's a lot of work, so much, to even cause a dent in the Harbinger's operations considering how many steps he is ahead of them. The blonde almost thinks it's all for nothing. Until it's not.

It is quite strange - one would think you would need to outwit Dottore with a superior mind, but instead, he falls due to his heart, something most people think is absent from the Harbinger. The Traveler had heard of you only a few times, all when they were eavesdropping on other agents. Every time they hear a whisper about the person called [Name], they believe it to be mere rumor and gossip, for it is that ridiculous. The Doctor having a lover? The Doctor having a partner he genuinely respected and loved? Who would ever believe that?

It's not until now the Traveler realizes it's no rumor. Childe is the one who ends up telling them, because there was no way Dottore would admit his weakness to them. From the Eleventh's expression and their heart, the blonde knows they've done something very, very, wrong. But how could they have known? How could they have known a man as cruel as the Doctor would care for another as well?

Regardless, the Traveler may be temporarily ahead, but anyone could guess that Dottore doesn't take any sort of aggression against you lightly in the slightest.

(You fluttering in and out of consciousness, waking up to blurry sights of a new segment every time. When they notice your blinking eyes, they simply place a hand over your eyes and a kiss on your forehead, motioning you to go to sleep once again so the pain is more bearable. You beckon for them to squeeze your hand tightly, so you know that both of you are still here. The only thing Dottore can promise is that he'll make it better soon. As soon as he deals with some pests.)

[ivyluvsyouu]

Hello! I saw your series of genshin characters if their s/o dies and I wanted to request it, if possible, with Alhaitham, Pantalone, Dottore and whoever else you want to add

𝑶𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟒

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒘 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒊'𝒎 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒅𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍!

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: 𝑨𝒍𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒎, 𝑷𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝑫𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒆, 𝑳𝒚𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆, 𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒕

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟏 (𝑪𝒚𝒏𝒐, 𝑨𝒍𝒃𝒆𝒅𝒐, 𝑿𝒊𝒂𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑲𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒉𝒂)

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟐 (𝑫𝒊𝒍𝒖𝒄, 𝑲𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰𝒕𝒕𝒐)

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟑 (𝑲𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒉, 𝑻𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒊, 𝑭𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒂, 𝑳𝒚𝒏𝒆𝒚, 𝑨𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒐,𝑵𝒆𝒖𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆)

𝑻𝒘!! 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉

𝑨𝒍𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒎

You and your fiancé Alhaitham had to go to the desert for a few days. Alhaitham didn't explain much he just said it was for work and you of course agreed to go with him. It was the second day there and Alhaitham had left the tent you both had set up for just an hour or so to get the business he needed to do done. When he came back your entire camp was ransacked. Things were stolen, everything was messy, but Alhaitham didn't care about that. All he cared about was if you were okay. He rushed inside and saw you lying on the ground.

He ran over to you and picked you up and cradled you to his chest. "Y/n.. who did this!?" He asked desperately. You tried to speak but you were too weak, your vision was beginning to get blurry and the last thing you saw was your fiancé desperately trying to speak to you. When you shut your eyes Alhaitham broke down in tears he was so angry with himself for not being able to protect you and keep you alive. He brought you back to your family and there was a funeral held for you.

Alhaitham was grateful you at least got to have a funeral, but he was still furious with himself for not protecting you. He tries to hide his grief from everyone, He tried to act tough for everyone and he even was comforting some of your family members at your funeral. He stayed close with your family years after your death, and he would talk to them often, it made him feel close to you again. It gave him comfort and closure that he couldn't feel anywhere else.

𝑷𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆

Pantalone was against you using a delusion. He told you they were dangerous, and he didn't want anything happening to you. However, you still started using one despite your husband Pantalone complaint's. And sure enough, you died on the battlefield from complications from the delusion. When he got word from one of his subordinates that you had died, he was in shock. He couldn't believe it, his s/o? dead? from a delusion? he refused to believe it. He wouldn't believe it.

But when his subordinates brought your body back from the battlefield for the funeral and he saw you all of that disbelief and denial came crashing down on him. He just looked at your lifeless form in shock and in disbelief. He held out his hand to cup your cheek, and when he felt your cheek, you were as cold as ice "Leave." he said to his subordinates, he didn't want the people under him to see him like this.

He just sat there in the corner of your once shared bedroom crying. He felt weak for letting his emotions go so easily but he couldn't help it. You were everything to him and he didn't know what he was going to do without you. After the funeral he took a few months off from the fatui. He kept the delusion that killed you to remind him every day of the fact that a part of this was his fault, He should've just taken the delusion away.

𝑫𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒆

This whole thing was a complete accident. Dottore had done this experiment at least a hundred times on different species and nothing had gone wrong. So, when he asked to try it on his s/o he wasn't worried about it going wrong at all. It wasn't even supposed to be painful he would've never done it if he knew what was going to happen.

During the experiment something went wrong, he wasn't even sure what but one moment you and Dottore were laughing and just talking about random topics and things that interested him while he was conducting the experiment and the next moment you were unresponsive. He immediately dropped what he was doing and tried to see what was wrong. Your body had reacted negatively to one of the experiments and it had completely shut down. You were dead.

It happened so fast Dottore didn't even see it coming, He was just so in shock when he realized what happened. He spent years just trying to figure out what had happened. That was his way of coping, if he could figure out what had happened to make you react that way it would give him closure. He shut himself off from the rest of the fatui and neglected his duties for about two years. Two years just trying to come to terms with your death and trying to figure out what really happened. After those two years he knew, he couldn't keep neglecting his work but even after he returned to his work, he still tried to do research on that experiment whenever he could.

𝑳𝒚𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆

You and your girlfriend Lynette were out late one night. You two were making it back home when you both had been ambushed by monsters. You both fought the monsters off or so you thought, "Y/n, are you alri-" She started to ask before a monster appeared behind her. You gasped and pushed her out of the way, but you got hit in the process. Lynette reacted quickly and fought the monster off and then rushed to your side.

You were bleeding profusely from your stomach, and she knew that you couldn't make it home. She scooped you up in her arms and she cradled you against her chest as she laid her head on top of yours. She cried and told you how much she loved you as you died in her arms.

You didn't live long after you had gotten hit. Around the time Lynette got to you, you had died already but Lynette was so caught up in everything she hadn't even noticed you were dead she just thought you were still alive. While she cried, she looked down and noticed you weren't breathing anymore. She brought you back to the house and got her siblings. She was frantic and she was trying to explain to Lyney what happened but between her crying and how worked up she was Lyney couldn't understand her. Lyney got her to sit down, and she explained what had happened after she had calmed down.

Both of her siblings took really good care of her while she was grieving for months, she spent most of her time just in her room trying to come to terms with your death. she would have nightmares for years after your death about the night you died.

𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒕

(𝒑𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝒐𝒎𝒈 :( 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆)

You had always been quite sickly and prone to getting sick whenever there was something going around Fontaine. So, when you got sick a few days before your boyfriend Freminet had to leave the nation for work related things you didn't think of it as a big deal, and you insisted that he didn't have to stay back with you. He wanted to stay back and take care of you like he always did when you were sick, but he couldn't miss this his father would've been angry with him.

He had every faith that you would be okay, so when he got word that you were dead, he was absolutely shocked and devastated. His father gave him permission to go home early and when he got back, he found out that you were indeed dead.

Months went by and Freminet wasn't any better at all. He kept having nightmares about you dying and seeing your lifeless body to the point where he would miss out on sleep. The nightmares eventually went away but he never forgot about them, and he never forgot about you. He became more and more distant from everyone, and he never fully moved on from you.

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆!!

[dottores]

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

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

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

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, dottore is an asshole.

notes: monch i had fun w this one, this was not supposed to be the chapter but i had a spur of the moment idea that i had to run with.

AN INEXORABLE DEATH

“And what of the boy? The Eleventh seat has been empty long enough. It’s about time that Scapino has been replaced.”

Dottore pressed his lips together as Pulcinella pushed the subject for the fourth time, extending the meeting much longer than it needed to last. They had been there for hours already going back and forth about funding matters, upcoming missions, and the long term plan of when they would finally start going after the gnoses. Dottore was irritated--he had been irritated since early morning when he returned to his lab only to find that his experiment had failed--but now he was even more irritated because he should have just sent one of his damned segments to deal with this.

“We are not putting a child in the Eleventh seat,” Signora sighed, shaking her head as she looked back at Pierro. “Are we done here? I have business to attend to.”

“A child who survived the Abyss,” Pulcinella retorted sharply. “Can you say the same, Fair Lady? If I recall correctly, the abyssal energy was too intense for you to handle.”

Signora’s gaze darkened, lips twisting downward. Across from him, Dottore noticed how Pantalone's expression lightened, a smile gracing his lips as he watched the fight that was about to break out between the Fifth and Eighth.

Dottore thought this was all inconsequential. He had an important matter to bring up to Pantalone before he returned to his labs. It was nearly midday already--he had an entire research summary to get through before Lambda arrived early morning tomorrow and he wanted to get restarted on what he was doing last night to try to figure out where it had gone wrong. He didn’t care about the Eleventh seat or who would be…

Dottore’s thoughts trailed off as Pulcinella’s words echoed through his head, a child who survived the Abyss. Not many mortals could withstand the volatile energy in the Abyss… much less a child. Dottore’s interest was piqued, eyeing Pulcinella as he wondered where exactly he found the boy and what made him so different.

His mind raced with possibilities… Maybe he would be able to find out if he was brought into the higher ranks.

“Perhaps it would be worthwhile then,” Dottore spoke up, nearly rolling his eyes when he noticed how surprised Signora and Pulcinella looked at his interruption--he usually never spoke up in these meetings unless directly addressed. “The boy could be of use, I’d like to study why he was able to survive the Abyss.”

“You will not involve him in your twisted experiments, Dottore,” Pulcinella said. Dottore turned his attention to the other Harbinger, noting the defensiveness lacing his tone.

“I can involve any one of you in my twisted experiments, mayor, he is not exempt. Her Majesty has given me complete autonomy in my research should I think the results could give us the edge in the coming war. You would do well to remember that,” Dottore said coldly.

Pierro leveled a steady look onto each of them before shifting his gaze back across the long table to Capitano, “Enough. The Captain will observe the boy from afar, he will decide whether or not he is worthy of the Eleventh seat.”

Capitano nodded his head in response, “You will show me where the boy trains after the meeting, Pulcinella. I will have an answer by the end of the day so we can put this matter to rest.”

“If unruly behavior proves to be an issue after his appointment, I can always… adjust it,” Arlecchino said cryptically, the red x’s in her eyes burning as she looked over at Pierro, the corners of her lips turning upward. 

“Keep your tricks to yourself, Arlecchino,” Pulcinella said. “I will keep the boy in line.”

“If you say so,” Arlecchino murmured as she leaned back in her seat. Next to her, Columbina let out an airy laugh as if she were amused by the whole situation.

“So be it,” Pierro finally said, waving his hand. “This meeting is adjourned.”

Dottore rose to his feet, getting Pantalone’s attention and nodding his chin toward the door before he turned on his heel to leave the room. 

As soon as he was in the halls, he could breathe again. Dottore could see a winter storm brewing in the distance, the clouds gray and swirling dangerously over the peaks of the northern mountain range. The wind was already beginning to pick up, he could see the banners whipping around in the palace’s courtyard and new recruits struggling to push against the wind to get back into the palace from where they were training. 

“I assume that nod meant you have something to say to me,” Pantalone’s voice was amused as he finally strolled out of the meeting, a thin smile gracing his lips as he eyed Dottore. “If this is about the decrease in your funding, there’s nothing I can do about that until we’ve dealt with the situation in Morepesok. The Triglav have somehow managed to rope the port masters into making trade with Port Ormos and Dornman Port more difficult for us. I’m leaving in a few days to handle it myself if Arlecchino’s spiders prove useless.”

Dottore frowned, he hadn’t gotten to all of the letters left for him at his desk, he had been too busy finalizing a report. “My funding has decreased?” he asked, incensed.

Pantalone’s smile tightened, the corners of his eyes crinkling in annoyance as he realized that Dottore hadn’t yet known about the funding issue. “Yes.”

“Why is the Triglav still a variable? I vouched for you so that they could no longer get in the way of my research,” Dottore demanded, voice cold and sharp. “You were supposed to take care of this issue years ago.”

Pantalone’s eye twitched. “I wish that ridding an organization of influence was as easy as you make it seem, much less one that has been embedded in Snezhnayan politics and society for several centuries,” he said dryly. “What is it that you wanted then, if it wasn’t about the funding?”

Dottore was not amused.

Pantalone exhaled, eyes glancing out to the courtyard for a second before motioning for Dottore to follow him. Dottore frowned, glancing once more at the brutal winds that were nearly tearing the banners off of their hooks as he followed after him.

As soon as he stepped outside, Dottore frowned. The coldness didn’t bother him too much but he didn’t like the way the wind and rain felt against his skin, stinging his cheeks over and over again. Pantalone did not seem affected by the weather, instead making his way down a path toward the overhang on the opposite side of the courtyard. 

“Is it about them?” Pantalone asked as they walked. Dottore could barely hear him over the howling wind and he realized that was exactly why Pantalone had led them out there--to prevent unwanted ears from overhearing. His gaze drew back to where they had been standing, where Arlecchino and Brighella were finally stepping out of the meeting room. “Hm? Do you finally want me to look for them?” 

Pantalone looked pointedly at Dottore’s thumb and Dottore caught onto what he was saying. His lips flattened in annoyance. 

“No,” he said firmly. Pantalone’s eyes gleamed at the sharp, quick answer, Dottore nearly rolled his eyes as he waited for the incoming dig.

“You didn’t even pause to think… it’s been a few years, I’m sure the fourth phase has started by now… does she not reach out to you?” Pantalone smiled thinly, he was mocking Dottore. “Is that why it's such a sensitive subject?”

“She does,” Dottore said--he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to indulge Pantalone’s bait. 

Every morning, every night, and usually during the day too, he wanted to add. The fourth phase had begun a few months back and she had immediately taken advantage of it, asking him all sorts of questions, telling him good morning and good night and asking how his day went. She was relentless, he would’ve respected the persistence had it not been driving him into a wall.

Dottore never responded. 

Sometimes he was tempted when he found himself leaving the labs early and his arm was stinging lightly, indicating that she was reaching out again and an odd feeling began stirring in his chest, something akin to longing that he couldn’t afford to give in to. He had already let her affect too much and he couldn’t risk it getting worse. 

He had been able to separate himself from her almost completely after receiving that word from her two years ago but his resistance was faltering now that the fourth phase had begun. No one had ever shown any sort of interest in him like this before and it was making him uncomfortable--he was used to being alone, only having his segments for company and even then, he sent them away most of the time. He didn’t like that someone else was trying to attach themself to him.

He needed to cut it off but he just couldn’t bring himself to. He caught himself toying with the words late at night: stop asking me questions, you are bothering me, I have no interest in a soulmate, I don’t need a soulmate, what is it going to take for you to finally understand that I don’t care for you? That I don’t want you? But every time he was going to bring himself to transfer the words to her, he preoccupied himself with something else--a project, a report, a random letter he remembered he never responded to. He knew deep down that he was just distracting himself so that he didn’t have to admit that he couldn’t send those words to her but he refused to acknowledge it.

“Fix this,” Dottore said, his voice harsh and cruel. His temper was waning and being pressed about his soulmate was forcing him to face an unpleasant reality--his own weakness. Pantalone looked taken aback at his words, Dottore continued, turning the topic back to the previous subject. “You understand who we are and you understand what you’re here to do. The only reason you were given the Ninth seat was to make the political scene on the homefront more manageable so we can finally make plays for the gnoses in other nations. Use the resources we’ve given you to do so or we will find someone that will.”

Pantalone stared at him, expressionless. The faux smile that usually graced his lips was gone, replaced by a cold, empty look, “I said I was handling it, did I not?”

Dottore only let out a quiet noise, one of dismissal, not bothering to spare him another look as he turned on his heel to walk back into the palace. What he had wanted from Pantalone could be handled another day--now, he just wanted to get back to his lab and finish his work before Lambda’s arrival because he knew that would be a headache in itself. 

Walking down the hall, Dottore withheld the urge to slip off his mask and press his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He felt like a broken record, he was stuck in a cycle that he couldn’t tear free of and as much as he wanted to point the blame at her and the gods, he knew fault laid partly on himself as well.

Because he was weak. Dottore was a proud man, an arrogant one. He knew who he was and what he was capable of, he believed himself to be above mortal and yet he still laid chained to human emotion. It was hubris that blinded him into believing that he would not be affected by the unwelcome development of the thread years ago and it was hubris still that led him to be incapable of admitting that acceptance of the bond might logically be the best route to take.

He could not admit to himself that there was no way to sever the thread because that meant years of research were for naught. He could not admit to himself that he was better off accepting the bond because that meant that over a decade of denial and centuries of learning how to view his lack of a soulmate as a strength rather than a weakness were a waste. 

He just couldn’t.

But that was the way of science, a part of him argued, a failed hypothesis must be adjusted into a new one. You adapt and continue.

“Doctor, there you are,” a familiar, whimsical voice hummed from behind him. “I was looking for you.”

Dottore glanced over his shoulder, suspicion pricking at each and every one of his cells as his eyes fell upon his fellow Harbinger. 

Nothing ever good came from being sought out by the Damslette. 

“What do you need?”

“Nothing,” Columbina said softly, “I just wanted to see it up close, that’s all.”

Dottore’s brows furrowed beneath his mask, trying to figure out what she meant, but he felt cold as Columbina reached out, gloved fingers brushing against the red thread that only he and his soulmate were supposed to be able to see. 

“It’s so bright,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen one this bright before, your bond must be strong.”

Dottore’s lips parted as if to speak but no words left them. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say--did he want to demand to know how she could see the thread? Or deny that the bond was strong? He hadn’t even spoken a word to the girl, how could the bond be strong?

“You see it?” he finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him as always. In all of his research, he had never heard of someone being able to see other peoples’ threads before. 

Columbina only smiled, face turning up toward him but her eyes were still slid shut peacefully. “I see everything,” she replied, voice airy and cryptic. “The stars and the sky, all of the ties that bind, I can see it all.”

Dottore felt unsettled. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt unsettled before but Columbina wasn’t even looking at him, not really at least, but somehow he felt as if she could see right through the mask he wore, peering deep into the soul that he denied to see him wholly and he felt stripped and bare of all of his armor. He had known that the Damslette caused a lot of unnerving feelings throughout their ranks, her presence tended to make their subordinates and even some of the lower-ranked Harbingers uncomfortable, but he had never experienced it for himself, not like this.

“I would like to meet her when she comes here,” Columbina finally said before continuing down the hall. “Have a good day, doctor.”

Dottore stared after her and then down at where the thread was tied around his thumb, too bewildered to even realize that she had said when and not if.

You figured that he was just busy--the same thing you told yourself whenever he ignored your goodnight tugs and good morning tugs. He was simply too busy to respond to you whenever you asked how his day was, when you told him good morning and good night, when you wished him luck with whatever he was working on. 

You tried not to let it deter you. 

He was just busy, that was all.

You let out a sigh as you sat down at your father’s old desk. The wood was dusted over and the papers were scattered around just as he left it. No one had dared enter the room since his death three years ago--not a maid, not your mother, not even yourself. This was your first time setting foot in his office since the last time he had called you in there himself. 

It was a bit messier than he usually kept it, you noticed that his coat stand was knocked over sideways in the furthest corner of the room and there were a few coins strewn against the floor next to it. His coat was still dangling off it--if only barely--and your throat felt tight as you rose to your feet, making your way over to the coat.

You took in a shaky breath as you reached out to grab it. 

As soon as your fingers brushed the wool, you drew back. 

Maybe you should just leave, you thought to yourself, glancing back to the door, considering just trying again another day. You thought you had been ready--it had been three years since his death, you thought you had been ready to start clearing things out of his office. The court officials had been gracious as to not rush you into it, giving you all of the time you needed to mourn and process his death, but you knew that the clock was ticking. Your father was dead and there had been many promotions in the past few years to keep the growing dissent in the city at bay, more space was needed, your father’s office was needed. 

You exhaled again slowly, grabbing the coat so you could fold it and place it in a pile at the door for you to bring back to your room, but as soon as you got hold of the coat, you smelt him. Even after all of the years, it still smelt like him. Your throat felt swollen and your vision blurred as you clutched your father’s jacket close to your chest. If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine him there in the room with you, patting your back as he told you to sit down and help him with his paperwork.

You used to hate it, rolling your eyes and grumbling whenever he passed you some of the documents to read over and summarize for him to lighten his workload. He claimed that it was good practice for when you took over from him eventually and maybe he was right, but you only ever cared about your words and learning more about them because you wanted to get to know your soulmate better. 

You regretted it. Now your father was gone and you were left with a soulmate who didn’t seem to give a shit about your existence. And it had all been so sudden, the same day you had turned down his request for you to come to his office so you could go to the gardens and read. You had noticed he looked a bit under the weather but you figured he was just exhausted from the long day at court he had the day before. 

And then he was dead, just like that. 

One of the officers of the city police found him collapsed on his floor. The city’s head coroner claimed it was a heart attack. They said that nothing could’ve been done to prevent it. You weren’t so sure, all you could think about were the what-ifs and the could’ve beens. 

What if you had gone with him when he asked? What could’ve happened if you had been there? Would you’ve been able to get him help? Or would you just have had to witness it happening first hand?

It was all you could think about, all the time. You rarely left your room, you couldn’t even bring yourself to sit in the library because it just made you sad, reminding you of all of the hours you spent there after blowing off your father to figure out what some stupid word on your forearm meant.

You were lonely. You were so goddamn lonely that you didn’t even know what to do with yourself besides mull over all of the possibilities. You felt like there was a hole ripping through your chest, an ache that never went away. You didn’t know if it ever would go away. 

You took in a ragged breath, biting back a sob as you tried to calm yourself down. You failed.

You thought you might hate your soulmate. Or maybe not hate, resent was a better word for it. So much of your life had been centered around him, influenced by him--your whole upbringing and being taught to hide such an integral part of yourself was because he was in Snezhnaya; your lack of friends growing up was because you were forced to hide the fact that you had a soulmate and obviously, there must be something wrong with you if Celestia didn’t bless you; you spent hours on hours, days on days in the library trying to understand him for when the two of you finally met; and even now, you tried to distract yourself from the damning reality of your family and the mess it had become by trying to talk to him and he ignored you.

He ignored you. 

There were only so many times you could convince yourself that he was just busy. How busy could he be if he couldn’t even say hello, if he couldn’t tell you good morning, if he couldn’t tell you goodnight or tell you how his day was when you asked. You thought maybe that he wasn’t receiving his words but you had done so much research trying to figure out if that was a possibility and there had been no known instances of it.

He was ignoring you--it was the logical, rational answer but you just couldn’t wrap your head around it, you couldn’t face the truth because then it really did mean you wasted your life focusing on someone that probably didn’t even care about you.

Calm down, you told yourself. Calm down. 

But it was hard. 

You felt so alone all the time. You had no friends. Your mother was constantly busy with court affairs. Your stepfather kept Sylvie and Elliot busy, you barely even saw them in passing anymore. The only one to really reach out to you to see how you were doing was your grandfather but even he was run to the ground with his duty as warden of the Black Cells. 

You tried to distract yourself by trying to make conversation with him, your soulmate, but it was futile. He never responded. No matter how hard you tried.

Your hands were shaky as you finally let your father’s coat drop from your chest, fingers trembling as you folded the coat to place it in the box you had set up near the door. You had to figure out what all you were going to bring back to your room--you figured you needed to get all of the papers out of here. You didn’t know if any of them had sensitive information and you didn’t want to risk anything falling into the wrong hands.

You tried to focus as you dropped down to your hands and knees but your mind felt muddled. As you started stacking them in a neat pile, you caught sight of your father’s bookshelf from the corner of your eye. Right in the middle was a familiar set of books with a silver and gold binding, one that you hadn’t seen since you were a child.

Longing, sadness, guilt--you couldn’t tell what the feeling stirring up your chest was as you rose back to your feet to make your way over to the bookcase, body moving on autopilot. A small smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the six volumes lined up of Princess Mina and the Fallen Nation, the old book collection that your father used to read to you before bed before your stepfather had arrived in Fontaine and your father moved back to the city. 

Even years later, he always laughed with your grandfather over how you used to force him to read the fifth volume about the argument between the Princess Mina and the samurai over and over and over again, to the point that he knew how to recite it word for word. Your mother scolded him every time--said the series was by no means acceptable for a child--but he only ever winked at you and promised that this would be the last time. A lie, of course, and your mother knew it, if the way she rolled her eyes had anything to say about it.

You wondered if he kept the set lined up to remind him of the good days--the days before your stepfather.

You reached for the fifth volume, your smile fading a bit when you noticed that it was lighter than you expected. Your brows furrowed as you opened the book, realizing that the majority of the pages had been cut out in the shape of a square--a hidden pocket to hide treasures, just like how the Princess had done in the sixth volume to hide her plans from the samurai. 

Your chest felt heavy as you reached for what was laying inside: a letter in your father’s handwriting, stained with faded droplets of blood, and a Fatui insignia.

“This is getting out of hand.”

Dottore looked up as a familiar voice rang loud and icy throughout the lab. His eyes drew up to a familiar form, one identical to his own--the Lambda segment had finally arrived. Dottore placed his pen down on the lab table, raising his eyebrows as he waited for him to continue.

“The other segments are out of control, not that you would know considering you sent them away for me to deal with,” Lambda told him, placing down the bag he was carrying on the lab table as he stood across from Dottore. “The younger segments are haywire over the thread, they haven’t calmed down once since it first appeared and now even some of the older segments are starting to become more aggravated--Delta and Rho are pushing on behalf of Iota and Gamma. Epsilon has made his opinion well known since he got word of it. Even Theta has started to ask more questions. I will not deal with it anymore.”

“You will do whatever I order you to do, Lambda. Don’t forget what you are,” Dottore warned. “Sit down, I called you here to report on your research not to hear your opinion.”

“Is that not why I was created?” Lambda did not back down, not a hint of emotion seeped through the vacant expression painted on his face. Red eyes void of any sort of feeling or weakness, any sort of hesitation. “An objective perspective, untainted by human vices and folly to prevent us from falling victim to them so it does not affect our goals. I am telling you that this needs to be handled. Now. It is already impeding our research. We’ve lost over ten years of progress because of this distraction.”

Most of the segments had learned to repress human emotions over time--some were never able to, like the younger segments and Theta, while others like Delta, Rho and Zeta, had decent control over their emotions but still often fell victim to outbursts of rage and irritation. 

Lambda did not have to learn as he had none.

Dottore valued all perspectives when it came to his research. He created versions himself frozen in time at some of the most formative moments of his life: being chased from his village, being accepted into the Akademiya as a scholar, being outcast from the Akademiya, brought into the Fatui as a recruit and then his promotion to Harbinger. A version of himself too young to fully understand the cruelty of the world and a version of himself whose mind developed and adapted over time. A version of himself with too much humanity and a version of himself without any.

It had been difficult influencing the essence of the Irminsul branches to create the Epsilon and Lambda segments as he was not simply freezing a previous mindset of himself in time and placing it into a vessel. He had to engineer the fundamental aspects of each of the cores that housed the consciousness of the segments to manipulate the way that they did--or did not--process emotions and he had to be careful enough so that it was still inherently him but different, allowing him a new perspective in his research that was more than just him frozen in time at a younger point of his life.

It had taken several attempts and many failures but three centuries ago he had finally been able to create Lambda, a segment who cared for nothing but the expansion and success of his experiments, his very existence laid upon his ability to bring their research to new ends without the shackles of humanity binding him because so much as Dottore liked to believe he was able to extinguish any and all emotion he might feel, he knew logically it was impossible and he had to factor that in when it came to results. The Lambda segment had an objectivity in his perspective that none of the other segments, or Dottore himself, were able to obtain--influenced by the past and repressed emotions, even if it was subtly enough that it could not be seen on the surface.

Epsilon had been created later--the antithesis of the Lambda segment, a segment that could process humanity on a level beyond what Dottore or any of the other segments were capable of. Dottore hadn’t seen the benefit in creating a segment like that but the Zeta segment had pushed for it, saying that it was unwise to create one extreme without another to balance it out, it led to biased results. Dottore had a feeling that the Zeta segment was simply sick of having to take care of the Kappa segment but there was no fault in his logic. 

Thus, half a century after the creation of the Lambda segment, the Epsilon segment came into existence. 

“I am handling it,” Dottore said sharply. “Sit down and report.”

“This is my report,” Lambda, unlike the other segments, did not back down when Dottore made demands of him that he did not agree with. It was Dottore’s own fault, he had given Lambda authority over the other segments because of his impartiality and it made him arrogant. “My research has been disrupted and I will not be able to continue it until this situation is properly handled. Thus, I’m requesting all of the information you have on the distraction so I can handle it myself.”

Dottore’s lips thinned, gaze steadying on Lambda. “No.”

Lambda raised his eyebrows, “No?”

“You are a segment, not a mimic,” Dottore said, poison lacing his tone. “I said no. Return to Sumeru and continue your research. No harm is to come to the girl, we don’t know how it will affect us.”

Lambda stared at him and Dottore knew exactly what the segment was thinking.

It won’t affect me.

“It should not affect you at all unless you’ve become attached to the mere idea of her, that’s the only way the loss of the bond can affect someone who has not met their ‘soulmate’,” his voice gave way to no emotion but Dottore knew it was an accusation, that him throwing out the word soulmate was meant to be a mockery, a dig at the other segments, a dig at him.

“You created me to make sure we continue to do what is best for our research,” Lambda continued coldly. “I will do just that. Handle it or I will. You are doing exactly what you said you wouldn’t do and it is impeding our progress.”

Dottore inhaled sharply, his temper spiking--he was barely able to control himself, tone venomous as he spoke, “And what exactly is that? What am I doing, Lambda?”

“Getting attached,” Lambda said. “You’re allowing yourself to be weak and that in turn is making all of us weak. The weakness is inhibiting our ability to make headway on our research and if you can’t even see that then…”

Lambda trailed off, he didn’t have to finish what he was going to say, Dottore already knew. If you can’t even see that then maybe you’re too far gone already.

“Get out,” Dottore said, restraining the blizzard of emotions that were whirling inside him. Fury, not only at Lambda and the blatant disrespect but also at himself because he remembered the nights he prepared to tell her that enough was enough and he had no desire to have a soulmate and he remembered all of the times that instead of transferring the words to her, he instead chose to preoccupy himself with a new project. “The only one impeding my research right now is you. If you weren’t going to bring anything worthwhile, you should have remained in Sumeru.”

Lambda was right, Dottore had allowed himself to get attached to the faceless figure on the other side of his thread even after all of the insurances he had put in place to prevent this from happening. He didn’t even know how it happened, he had been certain that after he had received that word from her, he was done with it all. It had to have been subtly over the course of the past decade and a half, slow enough for it to creep in, in a way that he couldn’t notice on his own, in a way that he could still keep himself convinced that he had no attachment to her--like a slow, inevitable death.

Distantly, he realized that he wouldn’t have even cared about the word cursed showing up on his forearm to begin with unless he had gotten attached to her. It should have had no effect on him.

“Once she learns what you are, what we are, she will leave anyway. You know that. No one wants to be bonded with a monster.” 

Lambda didn’t say anything else as he left the lab and as soon as the door shut behind him, Dottore’s shoulders slumped and he pressed his head against his hands, elbows resting on the table as he massaged his face, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do. 

Severing the thread was not possible.

Are you sure? A part of him questioned, or had you just not been looking into it hard enough because deep down you didn’t want it severed?

Dottore’s lips twisted. That was not the case. He had tried. He had spent years researching it, trying to figure out what could be done. Not only for his own sake but for hers too.

If you can’t sever through science then…

His arm stung, a familiar feeling that he had grown used to over the past few months. He didn’t even want to look down and see what she was asking him. It was late--if he had to guess, it was probably either the daily goodnight or she had felt his volatile emotions and wanted to know if he was okay. 

How was your day?

Dottore shut his eyes, finally making a decision. 

If you can’t sever through science then it must be done emotionally.

The city was cold--there was a winter storm blowing south from the northern lands that had the windows creaking and rattling. The fireplace burned hot on the other side of the room but somehow you still felt cold, staring down at your food as you waited for your grandfather to finish reading the letter that your father had left for you and the insignia that he had stashed with it. 

You didn’t know what to do. You had sat on the letter for days now, reading it over and over and over again until the words were branded on your brain and you could recite them without even having the letter in front of you. 

Your father spoke of blasphemy, sacrilege--a crime that would have your stepfather thrown beneath the city into the black cells for the rest of his life, a crime that could have your siblings cast out from the highest tiers of the Fontaine court, shunned and outcast for their father’s transgressions against the court and the gods. 

Faking a bond. Being a Snezhnayan infiltrator. 

You had heard rumors of the first before--long forgotten techniques of ancient Snezhnayan strigoi who masked as mortals and toyed with mens’ minds to lure in their prey. You thought that they were just old wives’ tales to scare young girls and boys but your father seemed certain in his letter that your stepfather was somehow faking the bond with your mother and you weren’t sure if you wanted to believe it was true or not… because then that meant you life was ruined not because your mother had finally found happiness in her soulmate, even if you did not like him, but instead it meant that he was manipulating her mind. 

“There is not enough proof,” your grandfather finally said, knuckles tight and tense around the parchment as he read what you believed was your father’s last words before his death. “If we present this to Her Excellency, it will be a challenge of our word against his. He will have your mother’s support and her family’s, the President of the Research Institute will back them and he’s gained a lot of influence throughout the city with the recent energy developments.”

Energy developments, you thought bitterly, they were only a temporary solution to the apparatus crisis happening throughout the city but even if the solution was only temporary, it eased the stress on the civilians and elite alike, and it made them view him in a better light. As if the whole crisis wasn’t his fault to begin with. 

Your lips twisted, grip on the hem of your shirt tightening, “The Commissioner will side with us,” you said. “Wrio is going to take over soon. I can talk to him.”

Wriothesley. He was the one you were meant to marry in the coming years. You didn’t talk to him often, both of you were always busy with your own duties, but you had always gotten along well enough when you were together. He was born with a black mark--a dead soulmate. You thought he was a good man but he was always sad. People thought it was a miracle that he could even function being born with a dead soulmate but you didn’t think it was so surprising. He never got to have a soulmate, he never knew what he lost and that was what usually killed: knowing that you could’ve had it all, or even having it all, but then it being ripped away from you.

“People are not happy with the city police,” your grandfather said. “Elites and civilians.. I don’t know how much help the Commissioner’s support would be.”

Your head hurt. You shut your eyes briefly. There were five positions of influence in Fontaine, each of them passed down through the nation’s five most elite families--the Chief Justice, the Warden of the Black Cells, Commissioner of the City Police, Chief of the Gendarmerie, and the President of the Research Institute, who also handled the cities infrastructure. Your grandfather was the current Warden and his closest friend was the Commissioner… but the influence of the positions was not uniform, especially over the past ten years. 

The Chief Justice was always the most popular of the five positions--Neuvillette was the current one and you knew he would remain neutral should things escalate. He was the one that controlled everything--the Hydro Archon’s voice, her eyes and ears whenever she didn’t join him in court. Everyone wanted to be close to him because they thought that him viewing them in a more positive light would be the difference between freedom and the rest of their life spent in the Black Cells. They were wrong, of course, Neuvillette wouldn’t let personal relationships cloud his judgment but you couldn’t really blame them for trying. 

The Warden was always an unpopular but powerful position, many of the elite and especially the civilians feared him, knowing that should they slip up once, their lives would be in his hands. The Commissioner of the City Police’s popularity has been on a steadily downward trend since rebellion began stirring in the city. The civilians thought that the police were too harsh on them but the elites thought that they’re not being harsh enough, which is why the epidemic of dissent kept spreading. They were resented on all sides. 

On the other hand, the Chief of the Gendarmerie was only becoming more popular, your uncle held the position, but you thought it was stupid because the only reason why he was so popular was because he had nothing to do in the city. There was no reason for the civilians and the elite to hate him because he dealt with policing the countryside--which usually only consisted of dealing with rogue hillichurls and the occasional band of treasure hoarders. If the Gendarmerie had to handle Fontaine’s population like the city police did, they would be just as unpopular. 

And the President of the Institute had been unpopular for nearly a decade--he was blamed for the energy crisis, rightfully, but he and his officers found that temporary solution so his popularity skyrocketed because the people no longer had to deal with unstable heating during the winter and the city’s power going in and out once every few hours. You figured the popularity spike would disappear once the apparati failed again but that didn’t help you now.

Your throat spasmed as you swallowed. “I don’t understand,” you said. “Are we just supposed to let this go? He’s Fatui, he’s lying to my mother, and he killed father because father started asking questions. Am I supposed to just share a dinner table with him and act like everything is fine?”

“We have no proof,” you went quiet as your grandfather leveled a steady gaze onto you. “We can accuse him as much as we want. We can show Chief Justice Neuvillette and the Hydro Archon your father’s letter and the insignia but when it comes down to it it will be a battle of words, and we will lose. The only witness that might’ve been able to convince the Hydro Archon is dead.”

You thought you might cry. You could feel the tears of frustration stinging your eyes. You thought that by bringing this to your grandfather would be the answer to all of your questions, that he would know what to do and they would be able to throw that weasel  of a man beneath the city, let him rot in the Black Cells. 

“If we accuse him of being Fatui, the Hydro Archon will act,” you hissed. “I’m not stupid, I know that this all has escalated because the north is planning a rebellion against the gods-”

“Quiet.”

“She will do something,” you finally said, catching the anger in your grandfather’s eyes as you spoke of the taboo subject. “She hunts down anyone affiliated with Snezhnaya, if he is accused of being a Fatui spy, she’ll act.”

“Neuvillette will intervene,” your grandfather shook his head. “He knows that if the Hydro Archon tries to imprison him without a proper trial, it will turn the elite against her. They are already nervous, if they see her targeting one of their own, it will rip their security blanket off. He will make sure that this is taken to trial and if it is taken to trial then we will lose. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” you said but your voice was thick and you weren’t sure if you were angry or upset. You rose to your feet, food untouched. “Excuse me for a second.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond before you were walking out of the dining room toward the bathroom. As soon as you shut the door behind you, you let yourself crumble--sitting on the ground with your knees tucked to your chest and your body trembling. You thought it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that your father was gone and it wasn’t fair that your stepfather had done it and he was just going to get away with it. Fontaine was supposed to be the city of justice but corruption ran rampant throughout the streets. You were sick of it.

You exhaled shakily, trying to calm yourself down, instead focusing on your forearm. You hated that even though he clearly wanted nothing to do with you, you still turned to him whenever you were breaking down. You hated even more that it worked every time.

How was your day?

You knew you wouldn’t get a response. You never did. Sometimes you liked to imagine what he might be doing--buried in research and experiments, facing the frustrations of failure left and right. Realistically, he was just ignoring you. You had come to terms with that. But still, you enjoyed indulging yourself in the delusions sometimes. 

But this time was different, there was a spike of emotion from him--anger--and you rarely ever felt anything from him, much less something this strong seemingly in response to your question. Maybe he had a bad day, you thought to yourself, swallowing thickly, but then your arm stung. It was subtle, something you barely even noticed but you knew what it was. 

Your gaze turned down to your forearm and as your eyes fell to the words branded on your skin, your heart sunk. 

Enough. I have no interest in having a soulmate. 

You stared, numb, at the words, waiting for them to change, wondering if you were reading them wrong. You knew you weren’t and you thought that you shouldn’t be as upset as you were but your whole chest felt as if it was caving in on itself, you felt like no matter how fast or deep you breathed in, none of the air was getting to your lungs.

You knew this, you told yourself, trying to calm yourself down again. You had known this deep down. It was inevitable. He had been ignoring you for months--longer than that, really, ever since you were a child and you would tug your thread before bed, waiting for him to tug it back. But you supposed it didn’t matter how much you might’ve known that it was true because you never expected him to be so… blunt about it, and you couldn’t help but hold out hope that maybe those delusions you fancied so much might prove to be true

You thought, maybe, that a part of you might have died right there.

Rejection. In everything you had read about soulmates, you didn’t think you had ever heard of someone being rejected by theirs. You stared at your thread, you wondered if it would sever at his words, if it would crumble to dust or blacken. You waited but it never happened, it still was tied around your finger, bright and leading to the north.

To the north.

You inhaled sharply, eyes widening as realization struck. Your body moved on auto pilot as you rose to your feet to leave the bathroom but your hands still shook, teeth clenched together as you tried to fight through the pain of being rejected by the one person in the world meant to accept you. Your grandfather turned his head when he heard the bathroom door slam hard behind you but before he could voice his disapproval, you were speaking.

“If proof is the issue, I’ll get it myself,” you said, voice stronger than you expected it to be as you told your grandfather your plan. “I’ll go north and I’ll get the evidence, and then we can throw that murderer in the cells beneath the city and bring justice to father.”

RBS APPRECIATED!

[musings-of-miss-j]

no rest for the wicked (nor the foolish)

part nine: in which the Doctor calls in sick and Her Ladyship graces your doorstep

a harbingers x gn reader series!! (includes dottore, childe, arlecchino and pantalone x reader. the rest of the harbingers will not be romantic interests)

notes: slowburn, uh idek what to describe this as anymore!! introspection-heavy chapter, signora and dottore centric this time, Menaces Think About Feeling and Give Themselves a Headache

series masterlist

author's notes: *bleeding from an array of stab wounds varying in depth and size* h..hey everyone... sent in my college applications the other day and i've been feeling sick to my damn stomach every since. also graduated haha! salutatorian..! kill me! at least i got to give a speech and make my mum proud ig. anyway enjoy this chapter!

word count: 4902

*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*

Despite how dazzled Childe might have been by your passable archery, Dottore was decidedly unimpressed when your return to the lab was so overdue.

“And just where have you been?”

“I could ask you the same, Doctor,” you replied pointedly when you recovered from your start at his sudden question. He clicked his tongue, impatient.

“My dear student, this is far from a suitable day to challenge the status quo. Tell me where you were.”                                                                                                               

The Doctor was hardly one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and the barely-there edge to his voice would’ve escaped you if you weren’t so familiar with the careless tenor he usually adopted; paired with the slight raspiness it almost made it sound as if he was… sick?

“Have you fallen ill?” You asked with a frown, stepping forward and scrutinising what was visible of his face for any observable changes. He always looked deathly pale, though, so it was difficult to ascertain any physical symptoms.

“I don’t fall ill,” he hissed, turning away from you with a scowl. “Answer my question.”

Oh, well. Might as well let him interrogate you.

“The archery range.”

“The archery range,” he repeated, tone dripping with contempt. “Rather than contributing to scientific advancement, you chose to play with bows and arrows. Extraordinary.”

“Whoever usually spits in your coffee supplied extra effort today, I see,” you mused under your breath, heading back to your work station and tightening your gloves as you walked.

“The sheer cheek-”

“And there’s my proof that something’s amiss,” you smoothly interrupted, looking through the row of test tubes on your work bench. “I implicitly called you an imbecile earlier this week and you didn’t bat an eye, but now a little throwaway comment is so easily setting off your volatile temper?” You shot him a pointed look over the rim of your glasses. “No point in continuing yesterday’s experiment if you’re sick, Doctor. You’ll contaminate the Petri dishes beyond salvation.”

Dottore pinched the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh, pivoting on his heel and preventing you from taking a peek at what the rest of his face looked like with the mask slightly tilted up. You were insufferable, with your overly astute observations and your deceptively mild tone with the hint of sarcasm just strong enough to make him raise an eyebrow. You were maddening, all narrowed eyes and furrowed brows as you pored over what he assumed to be an anomalous result (you only ever hunched that closely over your work when something had gone wrong. He knew it was an old habit from before you’d started wearing glasses, when any mistakes could easily be fixed simply by eliminating the issue of poor visuals.) You were unbearable, intelligent enough to challenge him and prove him wrong, all without even raising your voice a single decibel. He wished your secrets were the kind that could be uncovered by a scalpel and a swipe or two of disinfectant.

“I do believe I’m the doctor, dear student. You’re hardly qualified to throw diagnoses around.”

“Well then, Doctor, I think you’d best go ahead and diagnose yourself with a common cold, and recommend yourself some bedrest while you’re at it.”

He grumbled incoherently under his breath, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Probably a fever, you thought with a touch of gratification. When he moved in the general direction of the incubator, you called out at his receding back.

“Do not touch my cultures. This is the fourth time I try to test this medium,” you added, mostly to yourself.

“Worry not,” he replied, voice practically oozing sarcasm. “Your subpar agar plates couldn’t be further from the top of my list of priorities.” 

You rolled your eyes, stacking the sheets of paper you inevitably accumulated at the end of every lab session and resolving to leave the Doctor and his more-annoying-than-usual attitude to finish your work elsewhere.

“Stay,” he instructed without turning around when you headed to the door. “I’ve yet to hear the details of your thermodynamic stability tests.”

“I’ll have the complete report ready tomorrow,” you pointed out, continuing to make your way to the door.

“Stay,” he repeated, just barely more forceful. “I’d like to hear about it now.”

You stopped in your tracks, sighing internally. It would be senseless to put so much effort into making sure you didn’t anger the Harbingers only to directly disobey an order and let all your posturing go to waste, so you spent the next few hours chattering extensively about your experiment, perhaps being more long-winded and going into more detail than necessary as a form of petty revenge. Not that the Doctor seemed to mind, making the occasional noise of acknowledgement and asking questions that allowed you to delve deeper into the specifics of your methodology.

By the time you’d finished off your spiel with a cursory “and then I’ll recrystallise the product so there’s a pure sample ready for another round of testing”, it was well into the evening and you’d wound up in the inevitable position of sitting on one of the workbenches thanks to the utter lack of any chairs in the lab.

“It is a well-designed procedure,” the Doctor conceded, breaking your absent-minded train of thought about whether or not you could somehow drag a comfortable loveseat inside.

“You must really be under the weather if you’re offering me a compliment on a silver platter,” you replied with a raise of your eyebrows. “Not even a backhanded one. Truly astonishing.”

Dottore rolled his eyes behind the mask. “The only cause for astonishment is your inexcusably meagre supply of respect.”

“There’s the Doctor I know,” you said with a huff of laughter, pushing your glasses to the top of your head and rubbing your eyes. “…Don’t overwork tonight,” you added after a non-negligible period of deliberation. “I need another set of hands for tomorrow’s follow-up. So…” you gestured vaguely at him with your hand, hopping down from the workbench. “Rest, if only for an hour or two.”

You weren’t quite sure if the Doctor’s silence made you feel more or less awkward, but you brushed it off to the best of your ability and left with only with the vague sense of mortification you’d get from showing a little more kindness than usual to someone who was probably more accustomed to your scorn.

Dottore, on the other hand, was more confounded than he cared to admit. You’d always been careful not to say too much; every one of your words was precisely measured and deftly presented, with no room to spare for emotion. Which was sensible of you, all things considered; he was a Harbinger, and you were in alone in a foreign country working with an organisation that veered on the wrong edge of morality, where integrity was a politely dismissed formality at best and an openly mocked concept at worst. Impassiveness would help just as much as openness would hurt. The occasional times you slipped up, the only feeling that bled into your voice was annoyance; crisp and sharp and a sight to behold, especially for a scholar such as himself who toiled against the laws of nature countless times with innumerable different methods to procure something new, a tangible result.

He marvelled at himself for thinking of you as such, an immovable law, a force of nature, then he returned to the puzzling dilemma that was your parting statement. Rest, you’d told him. You never said anything that could belie concern, or worry or weakness, yet you’d expended an extra syllable or two for the simple word, directed at him. To every rule an exception, he thought with no small measure of satisfaction at finding a way to categorise your behaviour yet again, and filed the abnormally uncertain cadence that your voice had displayed, however briefly, in the corner of his mind.

The night was still young and many of the recruits you shared a wing with loitered in the corridors, talking and smoking and looking rather exhausted. One of them, a girl with red hair so bright it could’ve replaced the floating lanterns that littered the palace, offered you a cigarette as you walked past. You declined with a nod in her direction and continued on your way, the strap of your heavy leather satchel digging uncomfortably into your shoulder as you approached your dorm. After a moment of fumbling with the chain on your belt for the key, you all but collapsed inside with a yawn, running a hand through the stray hairs that had escaped throughout the day. The fire crackled in the hearth, definitely courtesy of Anya, and you gratefully warmed your hands in front of it before unclasping your cloak and hanging it in the wardrobe along with your bag.

“You’re late, sweetling,” came a voice that was becoming alarmingly familiar- ever so slightly gravelly, with an undercurrent that always left you guessing whether its owner was amused or displeased.

“Fashionably so, I hope,” you replied, turning to face Signora with a smile that veered on the wrong side of playful. You couldn’t help it; everything about her demanded obedience, and small defiances were the only thing preventing you from feeling like a well-trained pet with not an ounce of dignity to spare. Either way, she didn’t seem to mind, judging from the exaggerated, lenient eye roll she sent in your direction. You marvelled at the companionable silence as you unpacked. Lady Signora fit seamlessly into the puzzle that your everyday belongings shaped, yet commanded attention all the same; like a swath of unblemished silk draped over aging furniture. Her first few visits were an uncomfortable experience. It had felt more like an intrusion, really, being forced to entertain an unwanted guest with your limited capacity for small talk (mortifying) and a different tea blend every time served in teacups with a painted rim that matched her lipstick (because despite it all, a part of you still wanted to impress her).

You carried out the same routine, teapot, cups and saucers, and even went so far as to open a new tin of biscuits for Her Ladyship. The eyes of Her Ladyship in question remained focused on you, half-lidded yet nonetheless penetrating as ever, as you went through the motions of pouring the tea and handing her the cup.

“Chamomile? It’s quite unlike you to forego caffeine.”

You sighed, taking a seat across from her and melting into the dips of the chair. “The Doctor was in an awful mood. If it carries on until morning I’ll need every minute of sleep I can get to deal with him.”

She clicked her tongue, lifting the cup to her lips. “That man possesses no emotional stability whatsoever. It’s a wonder you’re both still alive, especially when your temper is hardly mild either.” This last remark she paired with a wink, and a smile spread over your face.

“Right as always, my lady. Too often a day spent in the lab feels like my last.”

“Ah, Tsaritsa forbid!” She waved a hand in your direction, the simple black rings on her fingers catching the low light. “You have to live until the gala at least, sweetheart. I won’t have you tragically perishing before then; you owe me a dance, after all.”

You dejectedly rubbed your brow. “I do wish you’d pardon my absence from that gala.”

“Absolutely not,” Signora declared, crossing one leg over the other with an air of unbearable gratification. “You wouldn’t break my heart so callously, now would you?”

“Anything but Her Ladyship’s heart,” you replied dryly.

After a moment of shared laughter, a comfortable quiet fell across the room, punctuated by the crackling fire and the muffled groan of the building as it settled for the night. Your eyelids grew heavy, and staying awake was rapidly looking like an unnecessary effort you had no interest in making. Signora watched you drift off with an oddly contemplative expression, her eyes unfocused yet present all the same, as if simultaneously observing you and something far beyond. You had become a frequent visitor in her dreams, instantly recognizable by that shrewd look in your eye and the stubborn line of your mouth, one she could never resist trying to coax into a smile; and sometimes when she succeeded and the light hit you just so, she could swear that she glimpsed Rostam’s face within the shadows of your own. Then she’d blink and the illusion would dissolve, leaving behind only your sharp eyes and stern mouth, so unlike the gentleness she so clearly remembered in his.

But now, with the fire casting wavering shadows every time your lashes fluttered, just barely asleep, and the muffled silence that always seemed to accompany snow calming her mind, Rosalyne found comfort in the fact that your face – the slope of your cheek, the curve of your nose, the crease of your eyes – was entirely your own.

Something banged against the door and you started awake, half-certain you were dreaming as your eyes struggled to focus in the dark. The noise came again, louder and more insistent, and you detangled yourself from a blanket you didn’t remember falling asleep in before stumbling off the couch and towards the door, rubbing your eyes and too tired to even question who would call on you at such an ungodly hour of the night.

Bang bang bang-

“Heavens above, would you stop-”

You forcefully yanked the door open, already preparing to fix whoever was on the other side with your most withering glare. Dottore peered back at you, almost glowing in the inky blackness of the corridor. You blinked, then groped blindly through your pockets for your glasses. Upon hastily shoving them onto your nose, it became clear that it wasn’t Dottore at all, rather one of his segments.

“Omega?” You squinted up at him, then scowled. “Bastard. What exactly are you hoping to accomplish by breaking my door down?”

“I’d break down much more than just a door if it meant having a chance to see you.”

“Shut the hell up,” you hissed, feeling more enraged by the second. “You have thirty – no, twenty seconds to explain what you’re doing here before I dismantle your logic core.”

He grinned, completely unconcerned. You hated to admit it, but his lack of reaction was probably justified; the Rudimentary Mechanics of Sentient Machines course you took in your second year left you ill-equipped to go through with your threat. That didn’t mean you couldn’t simply swing a hammer, though, and you silently communicated the fact to Omega with a glower that could probably light a torch.

“Alright, alright,” he relented, shifting his weight to the other foot. “Prime’s fallen unconscious.”

You levelled him with an unimpressed look. “I fail to see how that’s my problem. There are seven of you, all with highly developed medical faculties. You can handle a little oopsie-daisy.”

“Well, of course we can,” Omega replied with a barely restrained snort. “It isn’t a lack of skill on our part, that I can assure you of. Prime coded us all with a total inability to touch his person.”

There was a pause during which you picked out a rather distasteful array of words you would’ve liked to call the Doctor. “Archons above, that man is the most imbecilic genius this timeline had the displeasure of housing.” You rubbed the bridge of your nose, already half-resigned to your fate. “And I suppose any real doctors within the building are utterly forbidden from laying a hand on His Majesty’s body, too?”

“Nope. They haven’t been given explicit instructions not to do so, but they’re all too scared out of their wits to breathe within a five mile radius of him anyway,” he replied cheerfully.

“I’m going to mix all his blood samples together,” you muttered heatedly under your breath, turning to grab your cloak and pushing Omega out of your doorway before he could start looking through your dorm. “Move it, Omega.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled, letting you shove him towards the barely-illuminated staircase.

The lab was just as, if not even more poorly lit than the corridors, with only a single lamp set to the dimmest possible glow; the feeble light was barely enough to see by, and you could make out the Doctor’s slumped-over form by the indistinct shadows it cast over the workbench. Despite the eeriness of the scene, you didn’t feel nervous; it was difficult not to feel at ease in a room you spent so many hours of the day in. You could probably navigate the lab blindfolded and drunk, so picking your way through the boxes, stacks of paper and books on the floor might as well have been a walk in the park. Still, you wondered why the floor was so cluttered in the first place; it was never so populated with scientific miscellany when you were working there.

Approaching the Doctor, you took note of how his mask had fallen slightly askew where his face rested against the marble, revealing a sliver of his cheek, flushed an unusual red, and the dark circles beneath one of his eyes. Your spine tingled with trepidation. Even while unconscious, the Doctor emanated danger, embodied peril; the simple act of reaching out to touch him felt like a surefire way to spell your own doom, but despite your wariness you slowly extended your hand towards his face to check his temperature.

You barely made it a few inches before he grabbed your wrist, snapping upright and staring straight at you.

“Oh,” he muttered hoarsely. “It’s you.” Then he went limp again, collapsing back onto the marble surface as you recovered from the start he’d given you.

“What in Teyvat is the matter with you?” You demanded in a whisper after a moment’s surprise. “Omega dragged me here saying you were unconscious. You can’t possibly keep denying that you’re sick, Doctor.”

“Don’t you tell me what I can or can’t deny,” came a muffled grumble in response. “Go away, dear. Omega is a meddling pest who needs his cerebrospinal fluid replaced at best and a full reformatting at worst. Nothing he says can be trusted.” His words slurred together in a most concerning manner, and you could hear the faintest Sumerian accent that wasn’t usually present in his voice from the way he rolled his r’s.

“Why would a robot need cerebrospinal- no, don’t answer that. Just”- you gestured at his hunched form, not that he could see- “Go to bed, please.”

“I can’t possibly waste time on something as useless as sleep,” he snapped, finally lifting his head. “I’m one concordant result away from a breakthrough, I swear it.”

“And I’m one stupid word from your mouth away from knocking you out properly,” you griped under your breath. “Doctor, please. I bet if I tried to take your temperature I’d lose a couple of fingers to third degree burns. Just rest, whatever breakthrough you think you’re on the verge of can wait.”

He let out a bark of wry laughter, turning to face you fully and lay the full weight of his piercing glare on you. “Aren’t we hypocritical? You once spent fifty-one and a half hours straight in the lab inhaling toxic fumes from a genetically modified mushroom’s spores because you were convinced the cure to Eleazar was within reach. You wouldn’t let a revolutionary advancement in your research wait either.”

“That is completely beside the point”- you blinked, processing his words. “How the hell do you know about that? I stopped researching Eleazar in my third year and I only have one publication on the topic.”

“I have my ways,” he replied, a self-assured grin stretching across his face.

“So you’re a stalker, too? Was the list of atrocities you’ve already committed not long enough to appease your wicked soul?”  You deadpanned.

“Stalking? I prefer to call it data collection.”

“Yes, of course you would,” you quipped, patience growing thinner by the second. “Get up, Doctor. You’re getting eight hours of sleep tonight whether you like it or not.”

“Don’t be so frivolous,” he scorned. “Three is already excessive.”

You were growing more and more aggravated by the second; if you scowled any harder the lines of your face would probably become permanently etched in that position. Steeling your nerves, you grabbed him by the sleeve and hauled him upwards. Surprisingly enough, he actually got up, although that was more likely because you caught him off-guard.

“I’m too tired to exchange witticisms with you all night. We both know you’re not going to make any more progress, and you’ll be useless in the lab if you can’t even discern silver from iron.”

You picked your way unsteadily through the mess on the floor, cursing Omega for disappearing when he could’ve made himself useful. Dottore let you pull him towards the door that led to the completely unused bedroom, still mostly out of surprise that you’d dared to lay a hand on him in the first place. He had to commend your bravery; anyone else would’ve been left with a broken wrist by now, if they were lucky. The reasoning behind your special treatment made the unpleasant pounding in his head quickly become unbearable, so he decided to drop that train of thought. For the time being.

You kicked open the door and shoved him inside the untouched bedroom. Just from taking a brief glance around you were immediately certain that no one had stepped foot in it since it had been furnished, let alone made use of it for sleep. Every surface from the dresser to the shelves mounted on the wall was completely empty save for a thick layer of dust, the bedsheets had become yellowed with age and the spider web cracks starting at the window and ending at one of the corners were tightly clustered with the tiny, jasmine-like flowers that littered the rest of the palace. The Doctor swayed slightly on his feet, and you quickly moved to catch him before he fell. A frown crossed his face. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about being so reliant on you all of a sudden. Whatever he felt about the matter, it couldn’t have been positive; every time you touched him his fever seemed to rise a few degrees.

“Well, isn’t this ironic,” you mused to yourself, guiding Dottore to the bed and pushing him down onto it. “The doctor becomes the patient and the apprentice becomes the master.”

“Do not flatter yourself so,” he bit back. “You’ve a long way to go before surpassing me, dear.”

“I see a little cold isn’t enough to knock some humility into you,” you sighed, busying yourself with trying to force the window, which hung ever so slightly ajar and let in gusts of freezing air, to fully close. Dottore watched you from the bed, wondering what you were thinking in that moment. As far as he was concerned, it was a miracle you’d managed to force him anywhere without snapping his incredibly fragile patience, and now you were even going so far as to trade jabs with him that were quite a few degrees of familiarity higher than the ones you usually let loose during the day. And you’d told him to rest earlier that night, advice he’d blatantly disregarded, but it had still been a deviance from what he’d come to expect from you. Overall, he decided, both of you were exhibiting remarkably odd behaviour, and as much as it pained him to admit it he was too tired to think further about the matter.

Upon finally forcing the window shut and sustaining a shallow nick in the palm of your hand as a result, you walked past him and back into the lab with a mumbled curse on your lips which quickly devolved into a wide yawn. Of course you’d be tired. He tended to forget, sometimes, how it felt to have a body that wasn’t modified to be as close to perfection as possible; but catching even a glimpse of your very much human exhaustion brought back distant memories of his own fatigue, before he had taken a scalpel to his own skin and remedied the limitations of his own body. Still, he mused, watching you return to the bedroom with a pot of steaming tea (where in Teyvat did you get that? Did you keep it in the lab?) with half-lidded eyes and a disgruntled frown on your lips, a part of him filled with satisfaction at the opportunity to analyse an expression of yours he hadn’t seen before. He studied you intently as you turned your attention to the tea, eagerly filing away every detail of your countenance as he always tended to do when you showed him a new side of yourself, whether intentionally or not. You bent over a little to pour the tea, and he took in the curve of your spine, normally held upright in an example of perfect posture. Your hair slipped and hid a portion of your face, and he marvelled at how soft it looked, how effectively you usually kept it tied back for it to never get in the way. You rubbed one of your eyes, dislodging your glasses, and he watched as you plucked them from your face and stowed them in the pocket of your coat, thoroughly wrinkled along with your blouse to the point where he suspected you’d fallen asleep in them. You’d never let yourself get in such a state of disarray otherwise. Your gloves remained on your hands, though, he noted. You silently offered him a cup of tea, and cast a curious, searching gaze, the one you adopted when tasked with a particularly tricky experiment or stubborn calculation, across his face. He’d long since acknowledged the sheer gratification that came with you regarding him like a puzzle to solve or a code to decipher, and now was no different. Dottore internally preened at being the subject of your curiosity.

“That mask can’t be comfortable,” you finally said, taking a sip from your cup. “Does it not impair your breathing at all?”

He stared down at the cup you’d given him, catching sight of his own reflection in the surface of the amber liquid. “Quite a poor attempt to convince me to remove it,” he remarked, sending you a bemused, slightly mocking smile.

You rolled your eyes, dragging a worn chair to the side of the bed and crumpling into it. Swirling your cup around thoughtfully, you continued to survey him through narrowed eyes. You probably couldn’t see him very well without your glasses, he realised with some amusement as he finally lifted the cup to his lips. He was pleasantly surprised; it seemed your unbelievable caffeine intake was justified, if every pot of tea you made was of such high quality.

“You’re going to get up and continue working the second I leave, aren’t you?” You said, breaking the silence. Dottore drained his teacup before answering. Some damn good tea right there.

“Unless you’ve spiked this tea with a sedative, yes.”

“Damn, I should’ve done that,” you muttered regretfully under your breath. Then, after eyeing him shrewdly for a moment, you conceded, “Well, at least you’re getting some rest now, if nothing else.”

Yet another thing about the whole situation that was confusing the hell out of him. Why didn’t he just disregard you and go back to what he was doing? Why was he sitting in this practically-antique bed in this practically-abandoned room, drinking tea and making conversation with you instead of finishing what he started? What in Teyvat was it about you that was so compelling he found it so easy to disregard the work he thought he’d choose over everything else? Not for the first time, he wished that your enigmatic nature was something he could decode like an ancient scripture or unravel like the tangle of ley lines that held the world together. So few things were a mystery to him anymore; there was so little he’d left undiscovered, yet you had managed to make it onto such a short list seemingly without effort. Even now, while you were completely still and silent, your unfocused eyes looking somewhere out the window, his full attention was captured by the way you rested your cheek on your fist, the way your eyelids fluttered periodically as you struggled to stay awake. Damn you.

You dozed off just then, teacup slipping from between your fingers. He caught it before it could shatter, then nearly crushed it to pieces himself when he realised his urgency in preventing it from hitting the floor was because he didn’t want to wake you. And that maybe you liked this particular teacup, and would mourn its loss. And fuck, why would such things cross his mind? Frustrated, he glanced back up at you as if your sleeping form would hold the answers to these infuriating questions that plagued him, and instead was left with an even greater sense of wonderment at how much the peacefulness of sleep softened the harsh lines of doubt and suspicion in your face.

He carefully set the cup down. If his grip tightened any more he’d break it in his fit of vexation. And despite not knowing the reason why, he didn’t want to upset you.

*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*

taglist (omg there's so many of you now i'm gonna cry):

@viridian-coffer, @vvzhyxx, @darifes, @whore-of-many-hot-men

@aenishas, @lovel3tter, @randomidk-123, @autistic-deer

@luvenus702, @zoriaisasimp, @ra404, @crownohomo

@diamondcookie45, @steadybreadbluebird, @reapersimps

@lockandkeys, @lacunaanonymoused, @tyt42, @blackcatpandora

to be added or removed please reply to the masterlist post, bold means i'm having trouble tagging you :(

[shentheauthor]

That's ok! But I got a new request! Those headcanons for the Harbingers' S/O clobbering people got me thinking... Can I request headcanons about the Harbingers having a sweet and precious S/O who is also incredibly strong? They just regularly bench press Fatui Skirmishers, like the Electro ones with the hammers, will fist fight hilichurls and win, and carry loads that look like they could crush them with ease. Even more confusing if they have an average or slender build.

Heyo sorry this took so long! But I am here now to write <3

Harbingers with an s/o who’s small, but very strong

~~~~~~~

Pierro:

This man has lived for centuries

He thought he’d seen it all

But when you picked up a skirmisher with one hand and threw him across the room while helping the new recruits train

Pierro almost had a heart attack

He thought he imagined it at first, but the groaning skirmisher you’re helping to stand is more than enough evidence to the contrary

He’ll run over immediately and start questioning how in the hell you did that

Were you born with this strength???? Or did you do some kind of insane magic????

Watches you like a hawk now, but affectionately

Lowkey wants to be carried, but he refuses to ask

If you pick him up without permission tho, he will get SO flustered

Lift that old man, he’s touch starved and he needs it

Capitano:

The fatui soldiers see the two of you as a sort of “good cop” and “bad cop”

Soft, sweet angel, and an absolutely intimidating powerhouse

Imagine everyone’s surprise when you lift capitano effortlessly

Capitano is the most surprised out of everyone

He was just coming back home from being away for a while, and you greeted him at the city’s entrance

And there you go, spinning him around and crushing his ribs despite your average size

The man was too stunned to speak

His first thought is “have you been training??” But he’s smart enough to know that this is probably just

A You Thing™️

He’ll let you train with him now

And help the Fatui grunts train as well

You’ll beat everyone’s asses (politely) and capitano will just go “now this is why we don’t underestimate our opponents”

Now you two are both powerhouses, and everyone is afraid of you LMFAO

The two strongest people in Teyvat dating each other… what are the odds /hj

Dottore:

He’ll probably find out during an experiment gone wrong

A ruin machine goes out of control, and the segments are all working to take it down

AND ITS THE S/O WITH THE STEEL CHAIR (except the steel chair is your fucking fists)

Lifting literal Tons of metal effortlessly and tearing it apart without breaking a sweat

The segments: 👁️👁️

Godspeed, friend, bc they will NOT leave you alone now

When you date one Dottore, you date ALL of them

And all of them want to run tests on you

Or get carried by you

Or both at the same time

Seriously they wanna experiment on you SOOOOO bad

He is an absolute simp for you tho, so he will shut up if you promise to carry him around and help him with other experiments instead

Carry multiple segments at once, they will miraculously not fight with each other bc they’re in your arms <3

The Fatui soldiers thought you were the safe one, the sane one

But now they’re terrified of you too AJGKBKDKVKDK

Columbina:

Omfg dude she is SO happy

She’d probably find out after you pick her up

It’s not exactly hard to do, but she’ll notice that you didn’t even make an ounce of effort

So she’ll ask you to lift more things

Getting increasingly heavy

And she is absolutely delighted

Literally living her best life

You are now her personal vehicle

Carry her everywhere and she is happy

Loves watching you lift impossibly heavy objects easily

She thinks it’s so hot and amazing and impressive

She is so in love <3

Two people who look soft and sweet, but are secretly terrifyingly strong <3

Arlecchino:

She’d probably find out if someone tries to hurt you

Like on a mission or smth

Ruin golems come after you, as they tend to do, unfortunately

Arle wants to protect her soft, sweet s/o

But boom, there you go, LIFTING THAT THING

Bc you don’t want her to get hurt, of course!

She would have a solid 10 minutes of sheer confusion

“Who are you, and what have you done with my s/o”

It’s very clearly still you tho, as you’re checking her over for injuries

Once she’s processed and accepted what happened, she’s even more in love

You’re so strong, and that’s AWESOME

Asks you to help “deal with” insubordination

She doesn’t approve of how gentle you are with disobedient soldiers

But at least watching you lift them up and place them gently in their barracks as punishment is hella fun

I wanna know more about her HoYo…

Pulcinella:

He would not realize for a while

You like carrying him, but he isn’t exactly hard to carry for a normal person

No, he would realize when you’re both on a business trip

Loading luggage onto your carriage, there’s a ton of suitcases

“I’ve got this, love,” you say, reaching for all the very large, very heavy stacks of suitcases

“No, you don’t have to— what the fuck”

Very shocked, very flustered, bc wait, you can do this to ANYONE you want? Not just a little tiny gnome?

Oddly quiet and shy around you for the trip 🤨🤨🤨

This old man is so in love

Definitely watches you if you ever train in any way

Hell you probably have a few friends in the Fatui

He’ll watch you “hang out” with your friends (aka bench press them)

And he will just be :)

Quietly flustered mans

Scaramouche:

He can feel your strength when you hug him and pick him up

He isn’t exactly hard to pick up, being made of mostly light materials

But your lack of effort is suspicious

He has theories, and he will test them by taking you on missions and having you fight enemies

“Will you please lend me a hand”

You’re super sweet, so of course you’ll help

And oh there you go, literally punching through a ruin guard in one shot

Being an absolute ray of sunshine the whole way through

“Are you ok, kuni? :D”

He won’t comment on your strength, but man he’s proud to have such a strong partner

He knows the appeal of allowing your opponents to underestimate you, even tho that’s not what you’re doing

So he won’t tell anyone about it and delight in the shock that everyone else experiences when you reveal it yourself

And if he lets you carry him more often after? Well that’s none of your business…

Sandrone:

She wants one of her larger dolls moved

And before she can get her big robot butler guy to do it, you’re taking care of it

Boom, big robot butler guy has been replaced /hj

Like, Sandrone won’t even use machines to move her dolls anymore

She just has you do it, since you’re happy to help

She’s so excited for the extra help 😭😭 for once

Be honored she lets you touch them

BUT! Also…

She wants you to carry her sooo bad

She will never tell you directly, but she makes it so obvious you always know when she wants it

Sandrone visibly relaxes in your arms

She feels safe and warm and happy

Very glad she didn’t turn you into a puppet lmao

Signora:

She’s so shook omfg

You lifting her is kind of insane, bc she is TALL AS HELL

But you did lift her, and there she is, held in your arms and slowly beginning to blush

“…dear, please put me down”

“Nope <3 your feet look tired, you deserve a break <3”

“…fair enough”

She won’t let you carry her in public, but in private? She will wrap her whole body around you and let you hold her

She thinks it’s funny to watch you just LIFT gunners and skirmishers, bc they’re always so shocked

She will compliment your strength in private all the time

What I wouldn’t give to have her wrapped around me, dancing in her bedroom with nobody else around AUGUHHHHH

Pantalone:

You two get caught in the rain together while in Liyue on banking business

Neither of you have umbrellas, and Pantalone is wearing his nice shoes

You, being a sweetheart, don’t want his shoes to get dirty, so you pick him up and book it to the bank

This man is so confused, flustered, and delighted at the same time

“Darling, you never told me you could lift me like that”

When he finds out you can lift more? Oh my god dude he is so whipped

He wants you to hold him all the time

He just adores watching you carry things around

Especially because everyone stares and looks so freaked out Lmao

This man is literally just… heart eyes, motherfucker personified

Literally so so down bad for you, it’s not even funny

Carry his mora for him, he’ll propose on the spot /hj

Tartaglia:

OH MAN

He wouldn’t bring a non-combatant onto the battlefield

But he would see you training with the soldiers and immediately do a 180 on that

“PLEASE SPAR WITH ME!!!”

You will, bc you know how much he loves it

And you won’t beat his ass, bc he’s very skilled, but man the hits you land hit HARD

He will now show you off to everyone

“Guys this is my beautiful, kind, strong s/o, look at them :D”

Down bad mf

Loves being carried soooo much dude, he’s so touch starved and he wants affection so bad

Hell dude he’ll let you carry him in public

Unless it’s around his soldiers

He has to set a good example after all

But every other time, you will not be allowed to put him down

Utterly smitten mf

[strwberri-milk]

What if reader had trouble sleeping and it got to the point where he started to hallucinate? What do they do and think for Thoma, Childe, and (separately). Thank you

i got your other ask about the pronouns so dw!! also i was really worried this would happen to me bc i also went through a period of time where i literally just Could Not Sleep and it was acc so fucking miserable lol

Thoma notices right away that you're not sleeping well. Despite how busy his day is he does try to get to sleep at a reasonable time and the aversion that you start to develop towards sleep doesn't go unnoticed by him.

He hopes that it's a one off thing the first time he notices it but when you wake up repeatedly with bags under your eyes and the inability to even take a nap he starts getting more concerned.

When he starts noticing the abnormal symptoms you're starting to have he can't help but get even more concerned. He broaches the subject with you after consulting a few people, wanting to make sure he's got the right idea before approaching you with possible solutions.

He sits you down with an herbal tea and some pills you haven't seen before, tired eyes barely able to focus on him. You try to tell him that you need to try and get some sleep or else you won't hear a thing he's saying but once he confronts you about being unable to sleep you can't help but break down.

He holds you as you explain what's been happening to the best of your ability, asking if the tea and drugs were meant to help. He nods and you gratefully take a sip as he explains that it's basically a mild sedative that should hopefully knock you out.

It does as he expects and he basically becomes your personal nurse, telling you to go back to sleep whenever you wake up and hoping that you can make up for all the hours you've missed like this. He makes sure you take it easy for the next little while, taking some time off work to stay home with you.

Childe doesn't notice right away that you can't sleep because his own hours are odd. He's just been assuming that you nap whenever he's gone from home or something.

It's not until you're practically swaying on your feet or saying something nonsensical that he realises something is wrong. Unfortunately, you bear some resemblance to some of the experiments Dottore would tout around and Childe is adamant to make sure that you don't get anywhere near that bad.

He sits you down and asks you what's wrong the next time he sees you, brows furrowed as you try to brush off his concerns. It takes him no time to get it out of you, telling you that he doesn't want you to hide it from him and to just be honest. When you finally tell him what's been happening he's glad that at least there's a solution he can easily figure out.

He starts helping you sleep, going to get you some medication just in case you need the extra support. He'll take the next little bit off to make sure he can monitor your sleeping, making sure that you're sleeping through the night and staying active in the day to make you tired enough to sleep at night.

[akutasoda]

HIII can I have a fluffy Dottore x reader oneshot where an experiment goes wrong and Reader accidently turns into a cat so all the segments start freaking out (some go to pet reader) and try to find a cure. Feeling silly rn - 🐓

distracting feline accidents

synopsis - an experiment gone wrong now leads to a cat loose in the lab

includes - dottore ft segments

warnings - gn!reader, fluff?, slight crack, wc - 651

dottore always was reluctant to let you in the lab. while he enjoyed having you there as he said you were a more useful assistant, sometimes he was doing rather risky experiments therefore much preferring to risk the lives of his segments than you.

but sometimes he just had way too many segments doing other experiments and it couldn't be avoided. mainly because you didn't mind helping out. and even if today's experiment was rather risky and unstable, your insistence and his lack of segments meant he begrudgingly let you help out.

and some segments still were helping out and unbeknownst to you, although you could probably take a guess, they were under stict rules from prime to keep you safe. and they would do so anyway as they loved you just as much as the original.

it had been a lityle while since dottore had started the experiment and it seemed as though nothing was happening. no matter what he and his segments tried, nothing seemed to do anything. you could tell he was getting frustrated so you got up from where he seated you and walked over.

and when you reached him it was almost like a joke. the second you went to tell him to give it a rest for a while and come back to it was the second something happened. the loud bang was deafening and the mist that quickly swamped the lab made it impossible to see.

the lab was temporarily left but dottore immediately clocked on that you hadn't left and immediately turned round to drag you out. but instead of the mist filled lab he saw the lab in a rather sorry state with a cat sat right were he previously was stood. he looked almost dumbfounded but right as he realised what happened some segments ran in front of him.

mainly younger segments present ran back toward the cat as they too realised you had been caught in the crossfire. while they were concerned prime would absolutely tear their earrs off later, seeing you as a cat seemed to ourweigh that in their mind. so there they were sat around you, now a cat, as the gave you all the attention.

dottore was beyond annoyed. his segments and himself couldn't keep you safe from the crossfire of the experiments. but he was just glad it was something that wasn't too dangerous and he guessed you were pretty adorable right now.

he walked towards the segments as one of them picked you up making you look like a long cat before dottore took you in his arms. he pushed out the segments who put up quite the fuss but no matter how adorable your cat form was, he preferred you as you were and wanted you back to normal. therefore was internally panicking and wanted to create a cure as soon as possible.

although your newly found cat-like mind had other plans. you watched dottore race back and forth across his lab looking for whatever he needed but quickly became distracted by the lovely alignment of various books abd bottles on the surface he placed you on. and waisting no time you padded over and started knocking them off before sitting down and staring him dead in the eyes.

he stared you back and after your antics continued a little while longer he begrudgingly let in some segments. some to keep you entertained and the more older ones to help him formulate a cure. although now he and his segments were getting rather distracted by you, making progress slower than he would like.

but finally he had managed to find a cure he was confident wasn't going to harm you further. but before he even gave it to your cat self, he did give your cat form some slight affection. light pats that if you ever brought up again he would always deny but you knew and that's all that mattered.

[florapocalypses]

Sting me once, shame on you.

Sting me twice, shame on me.

[🌊] CONTEXT ; Experiment gone wrong !!! Reader is a jellyfish, dottores experimenting for a way to turn them into human, Readers immortal and also fembodied or they just have tiddies, Both reader and dottore are meanies, Labrat x Scientist relationship? is it even a relationship??

—Pre-Context abt reader ; Reader has no gender for this one, they just have tiddies wether their man tits or breasts. also they have no puss or dick, their lower body is just legit looks like a jellyfishes body.

°˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖°

Its been several years. Knowing how you've lived in 'safe' waters, you didnt worry about death much. It was a long, quiet two houndred years alone in the deep sea of teyvat that you've spent all alone.

Untill he found you.

You never went above the waters, staying a safe distance from the mortals that lived on land.

The Fatui took you away, sending you to a lab within snezhnaya. Surrendering you to a blue haired fucked up looking 'Doctor'. He never told you what his name was, nor did he ever look consistent. Some days he looks as if he was in his late 30s, other days he'd look around 20. Whats up with that? You wondered.

You wont complain much though, you have your own personal and private little area or 'pool' was what the doctor said. Letting you do whatever, in exchange, he'd run experiments on your body.

It was obvious that it cant be the same doctor that you kept talking to, with how different he acts every time he checks on you, and how his age changes.

Are all humans like this? You wondered.

Nonetheless, despite his inconsistence, he still seemed to have one goal.

"Have you ever wanted to become a human?" The Doctor asked, his hands behind his back. You could feel his grim eyes on you.

His hands cautiously touched your stingers, accidentally brushing against the bulb and triggering you to shock him.

"Tch," His eyes narrowed, retracting his covered hand. Thankfully he was wearing a full-body suit this time, you already poisoned three of his younger clones. He walked from you as the other clones from behind the glass watched and took notes. The clones hand had twitched as he walked away from your pool.

You looked up at him from the pool, "Its not my fault, Did he not tell you to be careful where you touch?" You mocked the older clone as he left.

Its been several hours, numerous experiments have been going on one after the other. You want to be human, Dottore wants to 'study' your species, its a win-win in your eyes.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[⛲] NSFW incoming , dw its kinda light !! (kkukuukukuku 'inCOMING' kekekekekek)

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Your dull eyes glanced over to the metallic doors, hearing shuffling from the other side.

The doors opened and surprise! Its another clone— you think, but this one doesn't have that one tube thingy that the previous ones wore. Eh, maybe its somewhere more discreet. No way the real Doctor would come in without any protection while there weren't any clones outside of the glass window. Right?

He motioned you to bring your upper-body forward to him, And you did so with little to no reluctance, as you went closer you examined him for a moment. Eyes narrowed as they practically scanned him.

Oh, it isnt a clone. Its him

"[REDACTED]," Dottore called out your name with a faux softness, unable to read his expression and intentions as his crow-like mask covered half of his face. Flicking your forehead when you slightly leaned forward at the mention of your name. "Quit being such a pest."

"Ouh—" You whine, glaring at him, pointing your stingers in his direction. "Why did you even come here unarmed??" You question.

"Because its my lab??" Dottore replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he rolled up his sleeve. Revealing the many stings, scars, bruises, and scratch marks that covered his hands up to his forearms.

"Another experiment?" tilting your head slightly as you looked at his hands on his lap. Placing your palms at the edge of the pool.

"Precisely, though i trust this one wont have anything to do with 'our' goal, just a reward for your good behaviour, Dear Pet." He said, pulling you up and sitting you infront of him. Your cold, wet back against his clothed chest.

"Oh..?" Looking up at him with your hand on your lap as he pulled you closer to him. Your body dripping and making the floor beneath you slippery. "Oh!" You let that sink.

You waited patiently as his hands unwrapped the cloth covering your chest, holding your hair away as he focused on undoing the wrappings. You let out a soft exhale as the pressure and tightness of the bounds were loosened then removed, his hands taking their place as he gave your chest a slight squeeze.

His chin rested on the top of your head as his fingers ran circles around your chest, massaging and caressing each surface. Dottore releases a quiet hum as he did so.

"Look at me," The doctor said, to which you unquestioningly obliged. Dull eyes locking in with his covered ones. Grabbing your chin and forcing your mouth open as his lips ghosted above your own, "Open." He commanded.

Sticking your tongue out as he ran his against yours, eyes closed as he continued to play with your chest as his tongue abused your own.

"Doctor—" You murmured, your hands gripped on his lap for stability. Feeling his enlarged shaft against your lower back. "Can i..?" You muttered inbetween the kiss.

[🌊] What a lovely question <3 Your so considerate !! (i want this fucker tazed)

[dawndelion-winery]

Prince Not-So Charming

He's perfectly capable of sweeping you off your feet, you find...except he doesn't have the motivation

Dottore × GN! Reader

    If anyone were to tell you the years ago that you'd be dancing with the lord harbinger Il Dottore, you would say they had gone insane. Except that was exactly what you were doing now, and as you felt everyone's eyes on you, the hair on your neck stood on end, shivers running down your spine.

    "Relax, my dear. I should be all you focus on tonight."

    You'd tsk at him if he hadn't been sweeping you off your feet all night. It had all begun with the Tsaritsa giving him an inquisitive, almost doubtful look when he'd asked for her blessing to marry you (your parents had been unwilling and Dottore refused to coerce them because heretical as he was, he knew blessings had to be given willingly, so of course he'd turn to the Tsaritsa whose blessing should obviously count for more than his future in-laws). For whatever reason, seeing the archon doubt his affection for you (she did blessed the union in the end regardless). Whether or not he could marry you wasn't the point, he knew he could; he was a harbinger, if he wanted to make you his spouse, there was little anyone could do to stop him. Dottore simply could not accept that his love for you was in doubt, as questionable of a figure as he was. This, of course, meant that he had to prove everyone wrong.

    Like a prince out of a fairytale, he'd waited for you at the top of the stairs leading down to the ballroom, taking your hand and bowing as he pressed his lips to the back of your hand. His fingers interlocked with yours as he held your hand to escort you, looking straight ahead proudly, as though he didn't hear the hushed whispers questioning what had gotten into him, wondering if he were an imposter. Much to everyone's surprise, Dottore was quite the proficient dancer, confidently leading you into a waltz, looking only at you as he swept you away with the music. To be held so intimately by the second harbinger was nothing short of enchanting, and equal parts magically surreal as it was nerve-wracking.

    As the first song came to an end, he had yet to let you go. Dottore's hands lingered on you still, and though his feet had come to a halt with the ceasure of the symphony, he body continued to move, swaying you in his arms as he leaned closer. As he leaned closer, you closed your eyes, fully expecting a kiss, but he moved to the side towards your ear to whisper, "Well, my dear, it does seem your legs will be quite sore after tonight."

    There was no need to hide your blush from anyone for he pulled you close as the music started up once more, monopolising your attention as he kept you dancing with him and only him. He was riling you up on purpose, you knew and yet there was nothing you could do to stop him. Dottore was determined to prove he was the best lover for you, but selfish as he was, he decided his payment for the act would come in the form of being the sole holder of your attention. It also went without saying that you were all he wanted to lavish his attention on that night as well, as with not an experiment within reach, there was little else to occupy him.

    "Might I have the next dance, Lord Dottore?" a poor fool thought to ask Dottore. You gave them a look, a mix of pity and concern. This was not about to end well. Dottore's gaze was nothing short of disgust, contempt, and offence.

    "Get out of my sight," he hissed, his lips curling as though he were a wolf baring his fangs, especially with the way the Snezhnayan moonlight glinted in the reflection off his canines. His red eyes, seemingly stained with blood, flickered across the room, glaring at everyone who had sinned against him by simply remaining in his presence. Well, there went what little bit of reputation he'd salvaged - time to do damage control before he got out of hand.

    "My lord, the music is starting up again, did you not promise me every dance of the night?" you urged, sending a pointed glance towards the Fatui underling who'd approached Dottore. They took the hint and scurried off, relieved to escape the harbinger's wrath.

    "Of the night, and thereafter."

Taglist: @myluvkeiji @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @heizours @haliyamori @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @cxlrose @astrequa @eowinthetraveler @ajaxstar @boundedbyfate @the-lost-anime-dad @moonbyunniee @greyrain23 @heavenlyfloof

Commissioned by @monstersealclubber

[it-happened-one-fic]

Play the Fool - Dottore

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

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

Word Count: 1327

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He spoke.

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

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

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

[watatsumiis]

Snuggle series - Dottore edition

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

(some silly self indulgent hcs below the cut)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[fatuismooches]

Ohhhh vulnurable Dottore 😶 What if this is a moment when he realises he can't heal us? He's trying and trying and trying, using all accessible methods (smt questionable and anti-sciense) but n o t h i n g works, there is no way to make us feeling better. And a new reality breaks him down, this is his breaking point.

But you're a sweet, lovely soul, you understand everything and never blame him for failures. When he's crying all you can do is holding and kissing him.

(uhhh finally I'm brave enough to reveal myself haha 😬 I was that anon with several Pantalone's hcs about him speaking French and a reader changing their ring to simple one 🙈)

The crashes that came from Dottore's private lab were so loud it probably echoed throughout the entirety of the whole research building. And it wasn't the sound of an experiment gone wrong exploding, or something fell down by accident, or perhaps some screaming, no. It sounded like something was being forcefully destroyed, on purpose too at least with how much crashing and banging there was. And you just had a horrible feeling about it.

You were right.

You didn't even bother knocking on the door, instead just shoving it open before you called out his name, although you cut yourself off when you saw the state his lab was in. It was a dreadful mess. There wasn't one thing that hadn't faced his frightening strength. The desk and bookshelves had tumbled to the ground, the chairs had been snapped in half... somehow, but considering his power that shouldn't be surprising. Even the operating tables were damaged, glass on the floor from the breaking of his tools and capsules. On the floor, you could read all of the documents scattered around, at least the ones that weren't torn to shreds. The books from the toppled bookshelf? All dedicated journals to your condition over the years. The photos on the floor? Pictures of your body, internally and externally. The random bottles on the floor? Prototype medicines that didn't work with your body. And all at the center of it was your husband. Dottore. Or rather Zandik, as you called him when it was just the two of you. His back was turned to you as he didn't seem to acknowledge the mess around him or even you. You slowly walked towards him, your heart already hurting as you were pretty sure you knew what this was all about.

"Zandik, look at me, please." Dottore's fingers twitched at your words, but then he balled them up, not able to bring himself to face you. You had no choice but to walk in front of him instead. "Zandik, I-" you paused abruptly when you saw his face. Zandik was crying.

He was like a statue. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He didn't sob. He merely looked at you, tears gliding down his cheeks completely unmoving and expressionless. You were speechless. In all your centuries of being with Dottore, you had never seen him cry. You've seen him genuinely happy, genuinely mad, genuinely sad - but never any tears, not even remotely. But here he was crying in front of you anyway... because of you.

The state his office was in was surely no state for you to comfort him, not with the chairs and desks toppled and in shambles... so you silently took his balled hand in yours and peeled away his fingers, allowing you to hold his hand. You led him to his own room (which was connected to his own lab, you know he can't be separated from his research) and he followed you, this time not putting up a fight. You two sat down on his bed and you immediately pulled him against your chest, holding him. Dottore remained unmoving for a bit, until he reciprocated and wrapped his arms around you carefully, as if you would disappear at any second. It was a very silent moment, as neither of you said anything for a long time. And well... it was kind of a learning experience for you too. You couldn't do much besides this but... you hoped it helped. But you needed to say something too...

"Zandik," you murmured, pulling him away from your chest which was only damp now, it seemed like he stopped crying a while ago. Though he still had that empty expression on his face. You reached to take off his mask but his arm quickly grabbed yours before you could even touch it. Ah, of course, he didn't want you to see him. He didn't even want you to know about this in the first place, probably. But that simply wouldn't do. "Zandik," you repeated again, "let me see you. Please," your fingers glossed over his cheek tenderly. "It's only me here, you know," the metal of your wedding ring felt cold against his skin, "And I'm not going to give up or leave, love." You hoped the look in your eyes read - it's okay to be vulnerable, Zandik. Please just be you when you're with me. The Harbinger gritted his teeth and held your waiting arm a little harder, as your other one came to cup his cheek. It wasn't easy to break him down, but eventually, he reluctantly let you go.

You took the mask off and set it to the side, focusing on your lover's expression. His eyes always told so much. And this time, they looked very, very tired. Though even still, his gaze was cast off to the side. But, this time you wouldn't force him. Dottore still acted high and mighty even in his lesser moments. He didn't like being seen like this. He was supposed to be the Doctor, the one who controls the game and has all the power. Not a vulnerable boy who was the opposite, who could have anything in the world except this one thing - your cure.

"It's alright," you whispered, kissing his forehead. "I'm alright." You kissed the corners of his eyes this time, a tiny bit red from crying. "Okay?" This time you went for his lips, and although he took a few seconds to reciprocate, he slowly kissed you back. As if he would never be able to kiss you again, neither of you let go. "There's no need to worry, I'm here," you combed your fingers through his hair. "I know that no matter what happens, I'll be next to you. I love you." Dottore didn't respond nor did he look at you. But he heard it. And he crept his hand under your shirt as he placed his fingers above your heart, counting the beats. His way of reassuring himself you were still alive. And for now, that was enough.

A part of you wanted to apologize. Apologize for putting this burden on him. If only you... were not you. If you could be someone else, then Dottore wouldn't have to invest so much into you. You know he loves and adores you how you are but- you know it's not the time to go down into those thoughts. Instead, all you need to do right now is comfort your beloved. Make him know that you see him. You love him. You accept him. You believe in him. And that regardless of all the failures he may endure, nothing would ever make you love him any less.

...

UM HI HELLO. Thank for this idea omggg i went through all stages of pain 😭 AND YOU WROTE THOSE OTHER HCS TOO?? Gosh you have such *chef's kiss* amazing ideas I LOVE THEM !!

[kaixserzz]

Hope you've had a great day so far 💓 ( ˃ ⩌˂)∡ because I am NOT!! I'm feeling quite saddened 😓 anyways,, eat THIS‼️

Dottore adores you in ways that cannot be told, all for reasons he himself won't even bother to explain, but you understand him wholly even if he is hard to understand at times. Dottore does care for you in other ways and you notice it, even if he won't verbally state that he cares about you he does express his emotions and words to you in acts of service or quality time. His place as a fatui Harbinger takes up days worth of his time but even he has an issue detaching from his work, for you though? He'd make time. Even if Dottore has loads of responsibilities that the fatui entrust to him as a Harbinger, it's only his own experiments that would him away from you. As he derives his knowledge and satisfaction from his personal work, he can enjoy your presence and antics in the same area. So Dottore had never really without you and you're never without him, not even the fatui can come between you two. As said before, he's never explicitly stated that he caters to your needs because he cares, but you can sense it. That's just how Dottore is, are you contempt with this? Yes. You understand how hard he works, you know how dedicated he is to his work. You've known since you both had attended and shared a dorm together in the Akademiya, this was the way he showed you his affection. You're both contempt with how your relationship is.

As his assistant, though, you still take on many heavy duties aswell. Even you're not safe from the hard labour of the fatui. This leads to some unwanted separation between you and Dottore. You'll be in a whole other continent for a mission and poor Dottore would be left in the lab all alone with his segments! He misses you dearly and it's very apparent. He becomes more antsy and more argumentative, all as he spares no one of his wrath. So with his increase in vindictiveness? Yikes. Even his segments start acting up more just like their creator.

You have no clue of this. You're never informed of this behaviourism. You've never seen Dottore act in such a way because of your absence. Truth be told, though Dottore has a huge temperament and can easily snap at anyone for the most minor of issues, he actually makes an effort to tone those traits of his down, for you. Do you know about this? Maybe. Fellow subordinates have told you of his change of attitude with you nearby, favoritism is what they claimed, in which hearing that made you feel even more assured of Dottore's love for you, but you weren't sure of how he acted when you weren't there, so you had guessed that he is probably just the same as always, just being himself.

Oh, how wrong you are to assume that Dottore would be acting normal without you. You're his person! You are the only one he's ever given a second glance to when back in the Akademiya. You're the reason why everything hasn't gone to hell yet in his lab! Why? Because you are literally the only person who can calm him when he does get pissed off or stressed out.

So when you're back and everything looks the same, you are never more than oblivious to his indifference towards your departures, he actually doesn't do this often as he keeps you cooped you in his lab as much as possible.

.　₊ ✦ .　 + .✦ ₊ ㅤ.✦

Sorry for any typos or mistakes, I am writing this all on phone (- ‸ - " )

I just love the idea of Dottore missing us while we're gone, he just seems like the type to be so cold and demeaning but also the most attentive and yearning for us 😞❤

Does this count as a request? Because I'd love to see you write this in your own style Kai!! I wrote this with male reader in mind ૮꒰ ៸៸៸៸ ก꒱১

- 🐠

AAAA 🐠 ANON THIS IS LITERALLY HOW I WRITE DOTTORE

in my head, dottore is so obsessed with you and he doesn't even realize this :( he's super in love and clingy in his own way that when you leave for a while, he doesn't know why he's so pissy AHAHAHA he thinks its because someone is annoying him so some poor fatui soldiers meets the end of his wrath for absolutely no reason ..

but i swear dottore is SOOO different when he's with you!! it just, kinda stuck since you've known each other so long, its just comes off so natural that you both dont even notice it!! dottore coos at you while he caresses your cheek? not weird at all, but for others it is! you lightly punch him in the arm? just something you usually did especially back at the akademiya. i think it'd be funny if you're like "my baby ain't that bad" because you have no idea how he acts when you're away 🥺🥺

when you're away, he'd always go to your shared chambers and just look at the pictures you've framed of the two of you together... or he'd be too distracted to continue on with his projects just thinking about you... he could be doing something, then something pops up and makes him think about you and he's distracted for the whole day :3 he says he's not into the sappy nostalgic bullshit because it's a waste of time but between you and him? he reminisces more of the past than you actually do. he just remembers them so clearly!! like it just happened yesterday!! each touch and affections etched so deeply into his mind it's impossible to forget !! he's romantic in his own ways i guess..

and when you come back?? he'd always complain if you don't come greet him first!! he's soo jealous when you greet the segments before him.. but he's suupperr touchy and refuses to let you leave his side for the rest of the week :3 you're not gonna receive any order from the fatui for a while and you're staying with him and him only!! to make up for the time you were goen yk??? but he's 10000% deny he misses you. well, depends on his mood!1

ik you said rq nonnie but YOU KINDA LAID IT ALL OUT FOR ME!! so i just added my thoughts ^^ srry :( BUT I WILL WRITE A DOTTIE FIC FOR YOU <3