#is dottore ooc here? probably. but you know what they say. love changes a person

[abyssruler]

DOTTORE REQUEST TIME!!!!!!

i may be projecting a bit here but what abt….. a reader who is ill but has an intense phobia of anything medical related, sort of like a hurt/comfort situation? i am physically licking your blog rn. 🕺

an apple a day

dottore x gn!reader

a sick person with intense fear of anything medical related and a doctor with a bit too much homicidal tendencies are locked in a room together. it goes about as well as you would expect — which is to say, not at all. exceptions can be made, however, such as when the sick person is the homicidal doctor’s significant other.

fluff(?), soft dottore, mentioned death and unethical methods (among other stuff) but this is a dottore fic it’s practically a staple

anon, i’m sorry, i know you said hurt/comfort but i am physically unable to write dottore in any genre other than crack, comedy, dark, or spicy stuff. i did try my best tho!

He doesn’t like it when you rebel against him, even less when you get sick. It’s hard to decipher the expression he has on at the moment, but you’ll settle for exasperated.

“I don’t want it!” you yell, cowering in the corner of your bed and raising the blanket up to your mouth.

Dottore stands beside your bed with a pill and a glass of water in both hands. He’s been at it for hours, trying to convince you to drink the medicine he personally made to suit your tastes after you said you didn’t like how bitter medicine always tasted.

“It’s either this or an injection. My patience is running thin, pet.” His voice held the promise of being true to his words. No matter how much it should make you see sense, all you could think about was how that pill would get stuck in your throat and then you’d be subjected to the awful and bitter aftertaste of it, even though he already said it shouldn’t taste that bad.

A shiver runs through you, feeling cold even with two layers of blankets settled on top of you. Your head feels like it’s about to explode, your nose stuffed and throat dry. You know you should just suck it up and drink the pill, but even the thought of doing so makes anxiety creep to your chest. It’s irrational and stupid, Dottore said as much, and he’s right, but as much as you want to be able to just get on with it so you can finally get some much needed sleep, you just can’t. You physically can’t. It feels like your insides are going to twist itself every time you imagine going through with it.

“Or would you prefer one of my segments do this in my place?” He asks, threatens, more like. He knows how rough his younger selves are compared to him, knows that you realize exactly what having them here in his stead would mean. The younger ones would give you a warning just to be nice, a sentiment they don’t offer anyone else, before pinning you down the bed and plunging a needle through your skin to get it over with. Perhaps the older ones would be more gentle with you considering how you feel about it all, but they’re still far less patient than Dottore himself.

You groan in displeasure, feeling stubborn tears well in your eyes at how unfair he’s being. Throwing your blanket over your head, you close your eyes and try and blink the tears away, sniffling as your nose became more runny than it did before. Hiding yourself under the blankets isn’t going to solve anything — it certainly won’t instantly heal your sickness — but it does show how displeased you are with him.

Dottore hums at your behavior. You’re lucky he treasures you as much as he does, else you would have ended up as extra parts in a machine. Anyone else who dared to treat him like this would have met a slow, painful death, and that’s only if he decides they should be granted the luxury of it.

The side of your bed dips with the weight of another person. “What will I have to do to get you to drink your medicine, hm?”

You peek your head from beneath the covers, finding him staring at you, the impatience gone from his eyes. You purse your lips, “I don’t want the pill.”

“And what it is that you want?”

You startle at the question. Thinking for a moment, you recall a memory from your childhood, back in the days when all they had you drink for medicine was—

“Syrup,” you say, blinking up at him almost hopefully. “Something easy to swallow and doesn’t taste bad.”

He reaches a hand to idly twirl a strand of your hair in his finger. “Any other requests?”

“Um, raspberry flavored maybe?”

“Shall I add any sedatives?”

You glare, narrowing your eyes at him in warning. “The last time you did that, I was delirious for a week.”

He grins, showcasing rows of sharp teeth and sounding utterly unapologetic as he says, “Apologies.”

“I mean it. Don’t add anything suspicious to it, okay?” You grab his hand, squeezing it threateningly despite the state you’re in. He gazes down at you with amusement.

“Of course, whatever my pet wants.”

“And stop calling me your pet, people will think it’s some weird kink.”

Dottore’s lips twist, an almost teasing lilt to it — or as teasing as he can be. “Isn’t it, though?”

“I’m gonna blow my nose on you.”

He laughs.

[serendipityandbenevolence]

I gotta say, when I passed out last night after writing this post, I didn't expect to wake up to people actually liking it. but hey! thanks for the support. As per my little footnote (if you didn't read it then sucks to be you ig) the people who commented got first choice of which characters im going to write. love y'all by the way <3 which means that first up is... Dottore! (as requested by @amber-sekio and @gallantys)

(I am not playing rn when I say that I spent a large amount of time reading Dottore x reader fanfic so I could figure out how the hell to write him and this is probably still ooc but i did my best)

Contains - Yandere behavior (kept to a minimum though) dottore being a charming ray of a human (he mentions enslaving other countries), discussions of blood and injuries

"Dottore?"

The silence from the hallway was almost deafening. The sudden intense quiet was broken only by the gentle crackle of the fire, a welcome reprieve as your words hung in the air. Perhaps it was stupid, to call for a person who may not be there and who, of all the Harbingers, might be the most likely to still attempt to kill you. A foolish whim, but nearly dying does funny things to a person's rational.

Your door slid open silently, revealing the Doctor himself peering in at you. He did not appear to be wearing his mask, but with the low light and strands of blue hair covering his face, you couldn't make out his features well.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

Something was wrong. His voice was too soft, his words too gentle, the whole demeanor was wrong. You knew he had segments that acted differently, but you couldn't imagine Dottore ever being that kind sounding. But you were in too deep.

"Can you come in here, please? I need to ask you a question."

A few murmurs struck up behind him, but Dottore simply nodded and stepped into the room, turning his back to you as shut the door.

"You know..." he mused as he clicked the lock shut.

Ah, there it was. With the door closed, his voice changed, with that hint of cruelty and mania that you had come to associate with him lacing his words. His blood red eyes bored into you, a sly smile creeping across his face.

"Oh, what's with the expression? You seem a little scared of me, Divine One. Am I not as nice as you assumed?"

He didn't allow you to answer, pacing closer to where you lay, buried beneath the pile of blankets.

"There's really no need to be scared of me. After all, I was the one who nursed you so lovingly back to health when you were brought here out of the cold. Aren't I so generous?"

"You healed me?"

You didn't bother hiding your concern. You kicked off your pile of blankets and assessed your body, trying to see if any of your organs were missing.

"My my, do you have such little faith in me? I am a doctor after all. One of the best I'll have you know."

He leaned against the wall by your bedside, giving you a rather unnerving grin.

"Well, you have my undivided attention. What was it that you wanted to ask me?"

You were starting to think that it was a very bad idea to ask for Dottore, but you also suspected that saying you wanted to talk to someone else would go over even worse.

"Yes, I just...wanted to know what I missed while I was asleep. You know, with the other nations."

"Ahh, of course! Well, upon some reflection they seem to have come to the conclusion that you are the actual creator and not a 'fake' as they so cruelly labelled you. Needless to say, quite a few letters of apology have been sent begging for your forgiveness for their dreadful ignorance. Including-"

He reached over to you, laying a shockingly gentle hand upon your bandaged side.

"-the one who nearly killed you."

"You know who it is?" you asked in surprise.

"But of course! Simply assessing your wound, I could tell the weapon and the particular style of it, which made it rather easy to cross-referencing that with the time and location that you were attacked and deduce your attacker with little difficulty. "

"Really?"

He scoffed. "No, of course not. They mentioned in their letter that they were the one who harmed you."

Dottore stepped away from you, pacing towards the door as he pulled a crumpled note from his pocket and tossed it onto the end of your bed.

"You should read it sometime, it is truly a delightfully pathetic read. They only made one mistake."

"Mistake?"

He turned to look at you and you saw that all of the cruel humor that had covered his face was gone, replaced with an infinitely scarier coldness.

"They signed their name. So now, I know exactly who will be my next experiment, when we invade the other nations."

There was silence for a moment, before his features softened and he let out a soft laugh.

"You should sleep. It's the best medicine after all. We can discuss this more in the morning."

Dottore went to turn from you once more, but paused as you opened your mouth.

"Dottore, burn the letter. I don't want to read what they have to say."

A wicked grin flashed across his face as he snatched the letter back up and strode towards the fire.

"You know, I think-"

He tossed the letter into the embers and watched as it instantly caught alight.

"-that you and I will get along very, very well."

Dottore pulled the door open and gave you one last comment before leaving, not even turning his head.

"Sweet dreams, Your Grace."

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That took me so long to write guys 😭 but anyway i hope you liked it! like i said earlier, i struggle a bit with dottore because he has all his different segments with different personalities but i think this turned out okay.

Also, the order for the next few harbingers will go as such

Tartaglia- requested by @gallantys and @followingyou247

Pierro - requested by @mistresssasori

Capitano - requested by @moonlite-drabbles @megsthings and @legendarysacrificer-blog (yall really love him clearly)

If you guys want to help me pick the order after that, go ahead in the comments!

also tagging @heizoubeloved in this because you mentioned wanting to see more!