#platonic il dottore

[romaritimeharbor]

MORAL INJURY — a non-romance genshin impact series. ♫

       act i, chapter iii        "the crow, the mouse, and the doll."

➤ CHAPTER SYNOPSIS :: the mouse bites and gets bitten.

➤ CONTENT WARNINGS :: trauma and recollections of trauma, references to self-harm (briefly mentioned, and not done intentionally—moreso done in the panic of a stressful moment), crying, reader acts like dottore in scaramouche's eyes, choking, burns, bruises, implied broken bones, dissection, general gore/graphic warning, dehumanization/non-sexual objectification (both the reader and scaramouche), reader is fucking MEAN and feels guilty about it later, blood, prescription pills. generally, tread carefully when reading this chapter.

➤ WORD COUNT :: 4.0k.

➤ AUTHOR'S THOUGHTS :: HELLO MORAL INJURY NATION!!! CHAPTER 3 IS FINALLY HERE and it is horrible and terrible. because i love angst <3 a little note, be sure to click around on the words and symbols that are underlined at the top of this post! the word MORAL INJURY will take you to the series masterlist/navigation post, and the music note will take you to the spotify playlist.

➤ TAGLIST :: @zeldadou, @umgatochamadopercyval, @starryshinyskies, @www-songbird, @pookiebearcave, @lesanyanyas, @francisnyx. contact me through messages/asks/etc non-anonymously to be added.

       After speaking to Collei—poor thing, they absently mused to themselves—they made haste in leaving Haeresys and returning to the main lab. Had they lingered even slightly too long, they were certain they’d run into its ruling segment, and they simply did not have the time to entertain his… antics.

       (‘Antics’ meaning anything from standing next to him and listening to him explain the intricacies of his work with ancient Khaenri’ahn technology and entertaining him with the occasional question to being thrown into an active battle with a Ruin Guard. He insisted that it was to keep their skills with their delusion sharp, but they personally thought he just wanted to see them bleed a little bit. Though they always emerged victoriously, they did not always emerge unscathed. They’re certain their suffering brings him some kind of satisfaction.)

       Thankfully, by the time they returned, the Sixth Harbinger was already waiting impatiently.

       "Good afternoon, Lord Sixth."

       "Hurry up," he scoffed, shooting them a wicked glare. Of course, they reacted naught. Being looked at like some kind of lab rat by Dottore was significantly worse than whatever glare Scaramouche sent their way. "I don't have all day."

       "I understand," they reassured, gently setting down their bag on the very same counter that they cleaned of blood a few hours prior. "If you would, please remove your shirt, and describe the issues you are encountering to me."

       His eyes followed their motions precisely. They wondered if it was some kind of trauma response. Nonetheless, he—shockingly—obliged their request, nimble fingers working to shed his upper layers as they snapped a pair of disposable gloves on.

       "...The issues, sir?" they gently reminded, gloved thumbs gingerly pressing into his ribs to check briefly for any wounds or areas of tenderness they'd need to be mindful of. It wouldn't be unexpected for him, a Harbinger, to be injured, so they figured it would be best to check beforehand. "Would you mind telling me—"

       A vague stinging sensation ran vertically across their lips, and they stopped. 

       "Reflexes." He smirked at the way their hand slowly raised to their now-bloodied lip. The pain didn't hit them for a few seconds, but even once it did, their expression remained boringly the same. The only indication they gave of having felt anything at all was a slight twitch of their lip. "My reflexes have been poor lately."

       A surge of rage flowed through their veins. They did their best to suppress it.

       "Lord Sixth, please take this seriously."

       "Are you implying that I'm not?"

       Agitation bubbled in their throat, but they again did their best to swallow it down and ignore it.

       "I am not..." Their jaw clenched slightly as they let out a shallow breath. They had hoped their irritance would leave with it; unfortunately, their emotions did not dissipate even a little bit. If anything, the Balladeer's smug look just made them feel worse. "I am not implying anything, Lord Sixth, but I'm sure we both have better things to be doing rather than bickering like children over your necessary bodily maintenance. Would you rather Lord Dottore do this? If so, I will gladly take my leave for the day. I will tell you this once only—I am immeasurably kinder than he is."

       "Are you threatening me?"

       "I don't know. Do you want it to be a threat?"

       His hands were wrapped around their throat in an instant. Within just those few brief seconds, they could already feel bruises beginning to bloom and burns beginning to boil their skin from his electro alignment.

       They gathered all the strength they could manage in their legs and kicked him off, forcing all of the air—not that he really needed to breathe—out of his lungs. He remained relatively unfazed, but didn't lurch at them again. Their chest heaved as they shot him a dirty look from beneath their Fatui mask, which had been knocked slightly out of position.

       (It wasn't often that they wore it. Honestly, around any of the Harbingers, they would usually just take it off. Both their name and face were well-known by now. Yet, they had diligently put it on before coming to see the Sixth.

       They could not be certain as to why. It was only inconveniencing their work.

       ...Maybe they were trying to hide, as fruitless as that endeavor was and would always be.)

       A deep, tired sigh left their aching throat. They turned away from him and laid their face against the icy wall, the bite of the cold much welcomed against the heat that had built under their skin from both anger and the recent struggle.

       "Hah, what? Are you going to cry?"

       "Do you want me to be honest, Lord Sixth?"

       The monotone exasperation in their voice surprised him a bit. Nonetheless, an amused look settled on his face.

       "Oh? If you so dare, you may speak freely, then."

       "I wasn't asking for your permission," they scoffed, standing up straight again and removing their mask mandated by the Fatui. They turned back to him, meeting his eyes with such immovable nonchalance, such tiredness that only someone who worked with Dottore for years could possibly display. "I was asking whether you wanted to hear the truth or not. You want to? Fine. First of all, you wouldn't be the first to try and strangle me, so don't fucking do it again. Try something else if you really want to kill me. You think I haven't been nearly choked to death by Lord Beta or Lord Delta? Do you honestly believe that? Secondly, you are acting like a goddamn brat. Either let me do your maintenance, or be Lord Second's science experiment again. Your choice. I have not met a single person who would rather be at Lord Dottore's mercy rather than mine, so choose, and do it fast. I don't have all day either."

       Silence. Then, a response came:

       "...Hah. You've got some guts, talking to a Harbinger like that."

       Static tingled along their flesh and danced in the air, waiting for the right moment to strike, waiting for them to say something wrong, waiting for them to cross that invisible thin line from being firm to committing insubordination.

       ...As if they already hadn't. They couldn't be bothered to care. He was acting like a child. How were they supposed to be patient with him when they'd already been spread so thinly? Either way, it was a lose-lose scenario, because surely the Balladeer would accuse them of pitying him or infantilizing him if they did continue to be patient. Being frank was simply the better option.

       Unbothered, they rolled their eyes. "I have no respect for anyone who makes my job more difficult than it already is. You aren't the only one with a hard job. You think I've got it easy? You wouldn't last a day in this position. Make up your mind, Scaramouche. Now."

       "Tch."

       "You want to be a test subject again? Fine by me. Have a good day, Lord Sixth."

       But of course, that was not the end of the Sixth Harbinger's bite. No. It never was, for as they reached for their bag, his sneer reached their ears and made their fingers twitch with rage.

       "What, like you were?"

       The tattoo on their wrist throbbed with the ache of distant, blotted out memories.

       All the nights they spent crying, wailing, hyperventilating, scratching at that foul tattoo on their wrist until their own blood coated their nails and oozed out of their raw flesh to blend with the scorching tears sliding down their cheeks and landing elsewhere...

       All of that for a useless little brat to comment on the situation like it was nothing?

       No. His Harbinger status be damned—no-one would disrespect them like that and get away with it.

       "Don't you ever"—in a swift movement that even the Sixth Harbinger did not expect nor predict, they whirled around and pressed their foot into his chest further and further until they felt something crack under the pressure—"speak of my experiences in such a foul way ever again. It was one time. You have been here, in this very same position, for five hundred years. I was in that position one time. Do not speak in such a manner ever again. I will break you beyond fucking repair."

       The Balladeer's porcelain skin burned. It was now his turn to be at the receiving end of elemental fury.

       "Fuck you," he rasped. They put their foot flat on the floor again, shooting him a harsh glare.

       "Fuck you too. Get back on the table or I'm leaving. How many times to I have to tell you? What are you, five? Are your listening ears off?"

       "...Fine."

       He begrudgingly stood up, hoisting himself up onto the examination table.

       "By the seven," they cursed under their breath. "Finally... You want painkillers or not?" They somehow still found it in them to offer some kind of pain management, though they already knew he would deny it, claiming he 'didn't need it.' "There is no shame in saying yes, Lord Sixth."

       "Don't you dare presume to patronize me. You really believe I'm so weak and—"

       As expected.

       As always.

       "Whatever. I offered, so don't go around telling people I didn't give you options."

       With that, they adjusted their grip on their sterilized scalpel and made the first of many cuts. If he wouldn't tell them what was really wrong, then they would just have to figure it out themselves—it would take longer, and likely be more painful and uncomfortable, but really...

       He did this to himself.

       The Balladeer was always a fascinating being to work on. If they were any less bitter, they would earnestly admit to being honored to have an opportunity to peer inside of him and poke around at his artificial systems, satiating whatever curiosity they might have had about him and how he functioned and—because of his creation being the work of an Archon—how one of the Seven's minds worked. As much as they may have disliked him, disliked his uncooperative nature, he was fascinating in his own right.

       (It was like they viewed him as less of a person, less of a coworker, and more of a subject to be studied. As more of a thing, a creature. Hm.)

       Scaramouche didn't bleed much. He bled, but never enough to inconvenience them. They were always able to simply pat away any blood with a tissue or a cotton pad when it began interfering with their work. He bled, but not like a human. Never like a human.

       He wasn't one, so...

       A soft whimper, a hitch of breath unnoticeable to the untrained ear drew them out of their thoughts. Their gaze briefly flickered to the Balladeer's face, fingers halting all motion. All the muscles in their abdomen tightened with an overwhelming sense of guilt and frustration.

       A stray tear rolled down his cheek. If he noticed, he didn't acknowledge it. They chose to pay it as little mind as possible, if not for anyone's sake but theirs. His eyes were hazy and vacant, as if he were recalling some other event such as this one—as if, above him, he saw someone else.

       They shook that thought off before it could spiral into something worse.

       Whatever he was recalling was not their fault, and certainly not their business. It had nothing to do with them. It was no concern of theirs. It wasn't their fault. It was absolutely not their fault... right?

       Were they being rougher than usual? Surely not, they thought, but upon shifting their eyes back to what they were actively working on... it became clear that they were.

       He was bleeding more than usual. Their incisions were deeper than usual. Either way, they would have to peel him open eventually to get better access to his systems, but... generally, they were very gentle about it. As gentle as one could be about something so grotesque, anyway. Even so, for some reason they couldn't really place, he was bleeding more than usual. Their incisions were deeper than usual.

       Oh.

       As much as they wanted to apologize, the words only stuck to the sides of their dry throat. Their hands trembled a little at the realization of what they had done to him, of how cruel they had been to him the entire time. How could their cruelty outmatch a Harbinger's? How could their cruelty outmatch the Sixth's, of all people's?

       Of course, in a job such as theirs, dissociation was a hell of a skill.

       There was nothing they could do except grit their teeth, continue, and—ideally—wrap it up as soon as possible. 

             — flower of the universe !! 🌸

       "Are you done yet?"

       He sounded so vacant, voice lacking any of the bite, enmity, or sarcasm it should have held towards them. He should've sounded different, not... like this.

       He sounded so broken.

       ...Did they really hurt him that bad? They'd hardly done anything different at all. It was always the same, they swore it was. It was the same as any other maintenance day in the lab.

       Deep down, they knew that wasn't true, that they were only lying to make themselves feel better, but there was nothing to be done about it now. They wordlessly cut the last stitch, patting away the little bit of blood that remained.

       "...I am, sir. If you don't heal properly, please come see me or Lord Dottore."

       He didn't reply.

       They reached up wordlessly, shutting the overhead surgical lighting off, hoping that the motion might snap him out of whatever daze he was trapped in. He hardly flinched.

       Wordlessly, they pulled back from him, snapping their surgical gloves off. They absentmindedly found themselves a bit thankful that there wasn't much to clean up when it came to him.

       "...Um. You can leave." They cleared their throat. "If— if you want to. I don't know when Lord Second will be back, so I would... leave. If I were you. I also need to sterilize the table, so... if you would..?"

       He didn't respond. 

       "Right. Um... I suppose I'll leave it for one of the segments, then... I'm heading out for the day, Lord Sixth."

       Guilt nagged at their conscience, and they wanted to apologize, but somehow the words got stuck in their throat and, no matter how hard they tried, could not be dislodged. So, they nodded in polite acknowledgement before quietly grabbing their things and heading out.

       A weight settled in their gut as they swallowed thickly, stumbling out of the lab and closing the door behind them. A chill immediately settled into their bones; however, they paid it no mind, keeping their head tilted down as they walked down the halls and giving no response other than a hum to any other Fatui agents that nodded their way respectfully.

       In their daze, they did not notice the looming presence they were about to run head-first into.

       Run head-first into him, they certainly did.

       A sharp gasp was inhaled through their nose, and their instinctive response was to snap at whoever it was they bumped into; before they could, however, they caught a glimpse of the person's footwear.

       Il Dottore. One of his older segments, if they had to guess based on shoes alone. They did not get the chance to apologize. In fact, they barely even had the chance to process who they were looking at and how they should go about their apology; should it have been short and to the point accompanied only by a polite nod, or should they have gone as far as to bow at the waist level? The answer would slightly vary depending on what segment it was (there was surprisingly little variance overall, but they did need to express a bit more guilt with some segments for their apology to be accepted without punishment), but they had no time to even think about how to apologize before he began to speak.

       "My, [Surname]"—they could hear the entertained smile in his voice, and in an instant, the gears in their head clicked together in recognition of what segment in particular they had run into—"terribly distracted, aren't you?"

       "I'm..." They did not raise their head. Instead, they simply stepped back, hands fidgeting somewhat with the handle of the bag they held. "I'm sorry, Lord Psi. I wasn't watching where I was going."

       Psi, twenty-third of Il Dottore's twenty-four segments, and—fortunately or unfortunately, depending on who one asked—the one who seemed to like them the most. A polite, straightforward apology without any excessive expressions of fear and respect would do.

       He was no different than any of the other segments in that he was an oddity and an enigma, someone who was not easily understood, but he was more personable than most. Oftentimes, it was him who attended publicity events in the place of the man himself. The original Il Dottore was generally not known for patience or grace. Therefore, the most logical action would be to send someone more… agreeable to such events. Psi was the only candidate for that kind of responsibility. He was no less of a threat than the others—he was simply harder to anger and easier to get along with.

       They supposed it was preferable to run into him instead of someone else.

       "Well, that much, I can certainly see."

       "Ah. Yes..." It was then that they finally straightened up and dared to peer at his face. "I should be going, sir. If you'll excuse me—"

       "Wait just a moment, mouse."

       Mouse. Mouse. He always called them that, if not their first or last name, and it made their stomach twist sickly every single time (they faintly recalled the first time he addressed them in such a way, but with that memory, they also recalled scalpels and cold metal digging into their skin that made their throat close up anxiously). It was demeaning and cruel and belittling. They expected no less from him.

       ...Yet somehow, he also made it sound fond, but not... fond. Fond, as one would speak to a pet—not fond in the way one might speak to a loved one.

       And really, they supposed that to him, they were a pet. They were most certainly not a loved one; they were simply a favored little mouse. Small, docile, and fragile in a way that was endearingly cute—a thing that could be grabbed by the tail and dragged around against its will with nothing to say in opposition for fear of angering its captor. It was disgustingly fitting.

       If they were a mouse—the prey—then they supposed that would make him a crow, the opportunistic predator who may not normally eat mice such as them, but could and undoubtedly would if he was given the chance to.

       A mouse trapped in a cage, constantly circled by crows threatening to finally kill them at any given point without warning…

       …Yes, that was accurate indeed.

       The leather of his gloves brushed against their neck, tilting their chin up to get a better look at their throat. They tried not to swallow too harshly—he'd know if they did, and then he would know that they were nervous. Then again, he would know regardless, since their pulse was ringing loud in their ears and his thumb pressed into their neck dangerously near to where he would be able to feel their heartbeat.

       He knew, and they were sure he was thriving on it.

       "...Sir?"

       "That is quite the nasty wound you've attained," he mused, withdrawing his hands from their neck, much to their relief. "I assume that the doll gave it to you?"

       "Yes. Lord Sixth and I got into an... altercation."

       "An altercation," he echoed, the very same amused tone seeping back into his voice. "I see. In that case, before you go, shall we treat this wound of yours? You would hate to worry your dear parents by returning in such a poor state, I'm sure."

       It was clear that he was not asking. They had no choice but to wordlessly nod and follow him back to the lab. 

       Upon entering, gently shutting the door behind themselves, they were relieved to find that Scaramouche had left. They really weren’t sure if they were relieved for him or themselves. Were they relieved knowing he would not have to face one of the segments in such a vulnerable state of being (though, somehow they were sure that he had done so multiple times in the past), or were they relieved knowing they did not have to face him again? It was truly anyone’s guess.

       Psi turned away from them, shedding his leather gloves and replacing them with disposable ones. They did not need to be told where to go nor what to do.

       They hoisted themselves up onto the cold, metal table (they could not manage to fully ignore the pounding of their heart against their ribcage—being on the one on the table for any reason was exceedingly uncomfortable) effortlessly, though not before leaving their bag by the door to grab on their way out.

       “Are you wounded elsewhere?”

       Their heart leapt somewhat in surprise of the voice cutting through the silence, and they chided themselves for being so tense. “No, sir. Only around my neck.”

       He hummed in a wordless acknowledgement.

       As he turned back towards them, the click of his shoes echoing eerily as he got closer and only ceasing once he stood directly in front of them, they straightened their spine somewhat. When his hands reached out to them, they tilted their chin upwards.

       They were not particularly interested in knowing what exactly he was doing; they only wanted it to be over as soon as possible so that they could leave for the day and return to the one place they dared to feel perfectly safe.

       “I hear that Beta was quite upset upon learning that you’d been to Haeresys today, yet left without seeing him.”

       They did not doubt it. Beta, the second of Il Dottore’s twenty-four segments… no, they did not doubt it whatsoever. He was very easily amused but equally volatile, and they knew he particularly liked the agents that were intelligent enough to understand even a little bit of his research; they were very possibly the first agent that would come to mind when thinking of someone who fit that criterion, unfortunately. They also knew that he was far more prone to anger than some of the others.

       They very much hoped that he was only mildly upset. If he was extremely bothered, however, he might just decide to hold them hostage the next time they visit—it was certainly not above him to do so.

       “Is that so?” they murmured, flinching somewhat upon feeling a gel’s cold bite against their wounded skin. “...I’ll make it up to him. Since I had to perform routine maintenance on the Sixth, I could not have stayed for long. Perhaps I’ll return to Haeresys on one of the lab’s less busy days.”

       “Well, he will most definitely hold you to it. Don’t make promises you cannot keep.”

       Somehow, they just knew that was a threat… a threat on Beta’s behalf, no doubt. They had long assumed that all the segments were connected mentally, though they had no real proof of that claim. They never cared to ask; it was simply always implied, a silent fact that they had been consciously aware of for quite a long time now. Moments such as these made them certain that it was true.

       They did not reply, opting for a simple hum instead.

       Moments passed in silence. Then, Psi spoke up once again after withdrawing from their body a final time:

       “You are dismissed, mouse. Take these”—he placed a small pill bottle at their side—”for the next week. One pill twice a day, in the morning and at night. We cannot afford to let your wounds get infected.’

       “Yes, sir.” They nodded. Only when he turned away from them did they get off of the table, taking the pills with them. Fear, more or less irrational in its nature yet nonetheless deeply ingrained into their instincts, still coursed through their veins. The racing of their heart had yet to settle down, and their hands trembled somewhat.

       It was with quick footsteps that they darted towards the door, snatching up their bag, before making a quick departure.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot! written by aphelion & banner by @www-songbird. do not plagiarize, copy, ai train, or otherwise use my work -☆

[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.

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

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! ♡

[solarrue]

GENSHIN HCS | YOU FALL ASLEEP ON THEM

(sorry for being gone for like forever. didn’t have much motivation to write lol.)

Characters: scaramouche, il dottore, raiden shogun, klee (platonic), ayato, yae miko, xiao, zhongli, ganyu and ayaka x gn!reader

scaramouche

To be honest, I feel like he would act as though he hates it that you fell asleep on his shoulder, but inside he loves it. His heart practically screaming inside.

After a while, he would get tired of it, and purposely say something out loud, or softly shake you until you wake up. If you don’t, he’ll just pick you up and carry you to your bedroom.

il dottore

Dottore actually wouldn’t mind. If you two are alone, he would simply lay his head on top of yours and listen to your breathing. If you’re in public though, he’ll just act as if nothing had happened, and probably act as if he finds it unpleasant, just so he doesn’t ruin his image y’know.

If you’re overworked and you fall asleep on him while researching something, he might just do it for you, and complete it while letting you rest on his comfortable shoulder.

raiden shogun

Raiden would try her best not to move so she doesn’t wake you. If she does, she’ll feel really bad and apologize. She would try to make it up to you, even if you insist that she doesn’t have to.

She would probably stop the loud ass thunderstorm, and change the weather to something more calming, like gentle rain. She would also carry you to your bedroom, so that it’s more comfy for you.

klee

She would probably be really startled at first. One second, you were helping Klee make her massive bomb for something who knows what, and a second later you were snoring, while your head was on top of hers.

Klee wouldn’t really know what to do, she would probably try to wake you up. If that doesn’t work, she will ask somebody for help, either Jean, Kaeya or Lisa.

ayato

You two would be sitting in his study, with you next to him reading a book. The atmosphere was really relaxing, and caused you to rest your eyes a bit, which resulted to you falling asleep on Ayato.

He jumped a bit after feeling your head on his shoulder, but then he smirked a bit, before placing your head on his lap so you didn’t have to sleep in an uncomfortable position.

yae miko

Yae would probably chuckle a bit on seeing your cute expression while you’re sleeping. I have a feeling she would admire you for a little while, before carrying you to your bedroom.

If she doesn’t have anything else to do for the day, she climb into bed with you. Without noticing it, she would turn into her fox form. So, don’t be surprised when you have a some fox fur everywhere in your bed when you wake up.

xiao

Just like Scaramouche, he would pretend as if he hates it when you fall asleep on him. Probably rolling his eyes or something. He’s not so used to physical touch, so this may seem kinda weird for him.

He may be awkward at first, but later on he would soften up a bit. Maybe laying his head on yours, or just admire you as you sleep.

zhongli

You two were laying in bed together, your head on his chest, and Zhongli was telling you stories about his past. That was until, he heard a light snore come from underneath him, he slightly smiled to himself.

Zhongli doesn’t really sleep that much, so it would be a while until he falls asleep, so he would just continue telling his stories even though you weren’t exactly listening.

ganyu

If you’re overworked and fall asleep on her, she wouldn’t mind. As a workaholic, she understands how it must feel to have so much work on your shoulders.

By seeing you sleep, she too, would get really tired. She would carry you to your shared bedroom, where you two were cuddling until one of you woke up from your slumber.

ayaka

I have a feeling Ayaka would become a blushing mess. Turning all red, but she doesn’t even know why. She would look at you, smiling to herself at how cute you looked.

She wouldn’t know if to move you to a more comfortable place to sleep in fear of waking you up, so she doesn’t, she just stays still until you wake up.

<3

I’m sorry again for being away for so long, I just never have the time or motivation to write anymore. I’ll try to write from time to time though.

Requests are open, so send in some!

Bye bye!

[belphiesreverie]

Hello! May I please request a platonic yandere Dottore? With a prodigy reader he came across at the Academia?

Take care!

Ofc, tysm for the request!! 🫶

TW: yandere behaviour, manipulation, Dottore himself is a warning tbh

Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. He’s absolutely plotting on how to convince you to join him the moment he sees your talent

He’s incredibly charismatic when first approaching you, knowing just what to say to get you to trust him. To open up to him about your struggles at the academia and keeping up with the demand at the level your teachers expect from you

He plays the sympathetic, understanding role well; you truly feel like he gets what you’re going through, the struggles of being put on a pedestal and expected to out perform yourself over and over. He feels like a mentor you can trust, or maybe even close to an older brother

And that’s when he proposes that you come work on a project with him instead. You don’t need the academia, he’ll provide you with a job. It’ll be low stress, working with someone you think you know well, and in a field you’re most interested in

It feels too good to be true, but Dottore assures you his offer is real. Has he ever lied to you before? So you take the leap and leave the academia to work directly under him

Dottore thinks that for a prodigy, you can be incredibly stupid sometimes

At first, the job seems exactly as Dottore had described it and you settle in quite quickly. He seems like a very understanding boss, and still just as kind as he was before you began working under him

There are a few questionable things about his lab that you start to notice as you spend more time there however

The other workers refuse to talk to you, some even outright avoiding looking at you, and the ones that you attempt to talk to too many times seem to get… transferred to another part of the lab

Sometimes you feel like you can hear screaming coming from distant parts of the lab, but Dottore always assures you it’s just your imagination, or the pipes making a strange sound etc. He always has an excuse prepared, but they seem to convince you less and less each time

There are security cameras in the rooms, which makes sense, but they give you a feeling of unease. Whenever you look up at them, it feels as if they’re always pointing directly at you, following your every move

Originally, you’d felt like you could bring these issues up to Dottore, but for some reason it doesn’t seem like an option anymore. It’s not like he’s directly given you a reason to distrust him yet… but you’ve just started to feel uncomfortable in his presence. What once felt like a safe space now feels like it’s constricting and oppressive

Dottore is no idiot, he can tell you’re starting to pull away from him. But he isn’t concerned. He knew you’d start to notice things eventually, it’s not like he was ever planning on keeping anything hidden. He just didn’t expect it to be so soon. Oh, but you are quite the genius aren’t you

He’ll leave you be for now, let you stew in your paranoia… maybe even feed into it a little bit. It is quite amusing to watch you pretend to stay composed. But the moment you start to think of leaving, he’ll step in to keep you exactly where he wants you

His word alone won’t be enough to quell you at this point, he’ll have to think of something more… permanent. But it’ll be worth it. He can’t have his favourite little worker running off on him after all, he still has so much more use for that magnificent brain of yours

[kaixserzz]

The Fox, the Crow, and the Bunny.

ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore and Gn!Child!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 2.4k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | JLM Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

something sweet. dedicated to @idyllic-affections thanks for writing my kaveh rq n this series is inspired by ur acc.. realized i strayed from the real purpose of this fic and made it too long, so just think of it as a 2 in 1 special lol,, (also hi sorry for using dottore he's like my muse and i love writing him) also i hope yall get the meaning of this shit lmao (ref to the scara quest tale)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: strictly platonic/familial, reader is 8 years old, basic dottore warnings, mentions of death, dissecting animals and injuries, implied dottolone (barely), a little ooc but it's canon to me

Dottore's office was once a sacred chamber inside the Fatui headquarters.

While not relatively as pristine as his laboratory, amidst the chaos, there was order. Everything was in its designated place, even though his desk was a nightmare to whoever laid eyes on it (spilled coffee too busy to clean, now dried onto the wood of his table, piles, and piles of documents and papers stacked haphazardly on one another, a disarray of pens and pencils occupying every available niche, and vials filled with who-knows-what dangerously teetering on the edge).

Hazards lurked at every turn within his office, presenting a far-from-presentable façade that seemingly clashed with his position as the 2nd of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. Yet, one might ponder, does the doctor truly concern himself with such matters?

No, not at all. He doesn't have the time to clean everything or keep them in such an organized state. He simply knows everything is in place, and the mess scarcely holds him back (he hires maids once in a while, when the mess gets too much, and in 1 out of 5 maids he hires only makes it out alive).

Yet, what truly imbued this room with a sense of sanctity? For within these walls, he unearthed his genuine solace and tranquility.

In this space, silence reigned supreme. Isolation was his companion, a cherished serenity he embraced. Here, his thoughts danced, inventions took form, and ideas flowed onto paper alongside intricate equations. Occasionally, he'd pass out on his desk and drool all over his papers. This room stood as a shelter inviolable, reserved solely for those few instances of urgency or the presence of a fellow Harbinger.

All other members of the Fatui instinctively bid their time, patiently awaiting his emergence from the sanctum of his office before venturing to approach him. For within its confines, the Doctor was impervious to disruption. No one disturbs the Doctor.

That was before you came along, of course.

The office, ill-suited for a child of your tender years, harbored a minefield of hazards. Within its walls lay various artifacts, concoctions, and intricate machinery, a perilous realm unfit for the innocent curiosity of youth. Regrettably, your presence inadvertently disrupted the serene harmony that had long enveloped this space, unsettling the Doctor who, by nature, dislikes abrupt shifts and deviations from what he was used to.

When you first arrived in his office (he didn't want you inside of it, after all, he wasn't exactly fond of children, but he had no choice) you were immediately injured after stepping onto a shard of glass that Dottore has completely ignored. You tried your very best not to cry for the sake of not irritating Dottore further, but he wasn't very gentle with your wound either.

He took note of keeping his vials away from the edge of his table.

Then a bunch of books topples over you. He puts them into the shelves now, and you helped him organize by using the Dewey Decimal System, to which you had read from a book.

Then, while he was explaining his recent idea (rather enthusiastically) to you, his hand accidentally slammed against his files and flew straight to your face. You also helped him organize his papers.

And then it was cleaning his desk, offering him DIY pencil holders you've made just for him. You've also invented a mug that prevents the liquid inside from spilling (he thinks it was a rather brilliant invention, he no longer has to worry about spilling on his desk).

And then it was putting his rather precarious possessions somewhere else, outside the vicinity of his office and far away from your grasp.

You were very eager to help him in any way possible, and for a child, you quite enjoyed receiving chores. Yet, your contentment was uncomplicated, drawn from the privilege of being granted entry to his treasure trove of knowledge, replete with a limitless collection of books, materials, and tools.

Dottore always thought that you'd be such a nuisance to him once you entered his office and sully the peace he has always known within his office's enclosed haven.

But he didn't expect to welcome your presence at all, on such short notice, too. (Deep inside, he felt a strange warmth in his chest whenever you'd tug on his coat, asking if he needed any assistance with organizing his office. He wonders what it was, though.)

So, here you were, amidst the symphony of pen strokes etching against paper, a solitary melody resonating within the confines of his office.

Contrary to his expectations, the calmness he believed would dissipate upon your arrival had, in fact, been amplified by leaps and bounds. As he observed from the corner of his eye, you reclined on your stomach, legs swinging idly behind you, immersed in a world of creativity. Strewn across the floor, an assortment of crayons bore testament to your artistic endeavors, while he diligently attended to the papers handed by the Fatui.

Then, as if hesitant to break the comfortable silence, you tried to catch his attention with a soft 'psst!', then covered your mouth with your tiny hand to suppress your childish giggles.

The corners of his lips twitch in irritance amusement as he turns his head toward you, his pen on the desk. You broke into a much bigger grin and held your drawing close to your chest, not wanting to expose it just yet. "Hey, Dotdot!" You whispered to him, and he can't help but roll his eyes smile at the nickname you've given him. "Can I show you what I drew?"

Dottore emitted a contemplative hum as if grappling with the decision of whether to engage or remain absorbed in his thoughts. Your evident impatience manifested in a pout, prompting his response. "Well, fine," He yielded, beckoning you forth. You beamed brightly as you swiftly rose to your feet and bounded toward him, your landing generating a muted grunt from him. A steadying hand rested on the desk, enabling him to regain his composure, after which he settled your giggling form comfortably within the space between his legs. "Now then," He put his hands on your shoulder, "What is it you wished to share?"

With another giggle from your ceaseless childish amusement, you gave him the piece of paper. Big, round eyes sparkling against the light of the room looked up at him expectantly. Dottore received the drawing from you, his gaze lingering over its details, drawn into a moment of shared curiosity and wonder.

It was him, and you, holding hands, depicted with earnest effort and the imaginative touch of your youthful artistry. Around you were a bunch of other versions of him, his segments, though you've only drawn five (since they were the only ones who have interacted with you so far). Each had their names labeled beneath them, but Dottore absolutely adores that you've labeled him as 'Dotdot' instead (you've also drawn Pantalone holding your other hand and labeled him as 'Pants', adorned both figures with encircling hearts).

"Truly remarkable artwork," He stated with a smile, his words accompanied by the sound of your jubilant cheers, "This masterpiece deserves a place of honor, a spot where all can admire it. I can already imagine the joy it will bring to the other segments once they lay eyes on it."

"Really!?"

"Of course, I do believe they enjoy your company, little bunny."

As he carefully set the drawing on his table, your inquisitive gaze caught his attention. With a tilt of your head, a gesture he knew all too well, you asked him a question, "Why do you call me that?"

"Hm? Call you what?" Dottore grabbed you gently and settled you onto his desk. Positioned face to face, at eye level, his intent was clear—to engage with you as both an adult and a child, a balance you seemed to relish.

"Bunny! You call me bunny lots,"

"Oh? Do you not like it?"

You vigorously shook your head, "No no, I love it! I get called nicknames, but they're all mean." You furrow your brow as you reminisced, pouting at the awful memories. But then you broke into a big smile again, "But yours is new and cute! So, why do you call me that?"

Dottore's grin widened, revealing his sharp teeth, a sight that enthralled you. Your hands instinctively moved to his cheeks, your eyes filled with wonder, and he welcomed the touch wholeheartedly. "Ahh, ever so curious, aren't you, little bun?" He teased playfully, giving your nose a gentle boop! with his finger, and your giggles were a delightful response. "You see, I call you bunny because you embody its spirit—small, swift, and an endless source of vibrant energy.

You also love to hop onto people a lot."

"I love giving surprise hugs! I'm too small, so a jump, so I can wrap my arms around them a bit higher!" You huffed as he chuckled at your explanation. "What are you, then? What animal?"

"Oh? I've never thought about what kind of animal I'd be... Hmmm..." Dottore mused for a while, his expression thoughtful. Eventually, he arrived at a decision. "A fox, I think. Crafty, shrewd, and sly. A creature that prowls with a purpose and possesses those distinct, sharp teeth." As he said that, he grins once more to show his sharp teeth, then lunges for your finger, mimicking a bite, prompting you to gasp and pull back with a joyful squeal.

"And speaking of bunnies..." His tone took on a mischievous edge, causing your eyes to widen in anticipation. Suddenly, he swooped in, grabbing your legs and lifting you high into the air. "I might just gobble you up!" Dottore's playful pretense of chomping down on you elicited a cascade of laughter from you. You pushed at his head, trying to escape his 'gobbling' jaws, your legs kicking playfully as you enjoyed the moment.

"I don't think you're a fox, Dotdot!" You quipped, retaking your seat on his desk. Playfully swinging your legs, you mused aloud, a soft humming accompanying your contemplation.

Dottore raised an intrigued eyebrow, "Oh? And what am I in the eyes of my little bunny? Perhaps something more fearsome?" He inquired, looming over you in an effort to intimidate you.

Instead, your eyes lit up brightly, and you joyfully clapped your hands together. "Oh, I've got it! A crow!" You exclaimed with a triumphant smile.

A bemused frown replaced his grin as he processed your unexpected response. "...A crow?" He echoed, clearly puzzled by your choice. "Of all animals?"

And you merely smile at him, giggling at his confused reaction, "Mhm! Yeah! A crow that talks on and on and on." Your hands followed your words, almost hitting him in the face, "A crow that is death and prey over rotting corpses, but a crow that saved me! I thought Dotdot was an angel, but angels don't have black feathers, scary smiles, or red eyes."

Your words painted a vivid picture of your perception, a whimsical and deeply personal perspective on his nature. Dottore nods along, intrigued, as you rambled your thoughts to him, not even chastising you for grabbing the beak of his mask and playing with it.

"You're a crow! You're very smart, and clever, and creative! You're scary to other people, but not to me! I love corvids, I used to feed them bits of animal after I dissect them, and they always bring me something shiny. They were my only friends, and now you're my friend too!"

He doesn't understand the gentle warmth that began to unfurl within his chest as he remained attentive to your words. While unfamiliar, this sensation wasn't entirely unwelcome... "I beg to differ, my dear bunny. I am unmistakably a fox,"

"Then you're a crow pretending to be a fox!" You pout, stubbornly crossing your arms. "I think crows are way cooler than foxes. They can fly! Plus, you can't call yourself a fox when you resemble a crow more than a fox!" You pointed out, a triumphant smirk on your lips.

Well, you do have a point. He does wear a beaked mask, coupled with a bird-like shoulder embellishment bedecked in exquisite black feathers.

"Should I then consider donning attire that better befits a fox?"

At the notion, you fixed him with a mock glare, your cheeks puffing out in an adorable display of discontent. "Nooooo! I prefer Mr. Crow!" you protested with a playful whine, punctuating your words by delivering gentle punches to his shoulders with your tiny hands.

He chuckles at your small tantrum, and he swiftly gathers you into his embrace. Your arms naturally encircled his neck as he rose from his seat, carrying you toward the door, your precious drawing clutched in your hands. "Very well, very well, my dear Mr. Crow it shall remain," He conceded with a playful tone, his steps filled with an easy camaraderie.

Victoriously, you shot him a smug grin, to which he rolled his eyes at.

"Do you wanna know something, Mr. Crow?" You mutter in his ear as he walks past one of his segments.

"Hm? What is it?"

You made sure to whisper it very quietly, hoping the other segments won't hear you. "Between you and me, I think that your younger segments are like rats!"

He didn't know what came over him, he released a hearty, resounding laugh, its volume surprising not just you but also the other segments who happened to be present, each momentarily taken aback by their own affairs. Such an outpouring of mirth was rare for him (only when he was inside his dark, cool lab, alone with experiments).

A sense of pride swelled in your chest as you grinned widely, his laughter infectious as you burst into a fit of giggles. It was a scary laugh, maybe it was just naturally like that, but to you, it sounded very happy. "They bit me once! I was just poking their face."

"Perhaps give them a treat before you approach them," He says, calming down as he continues his trek toward your room. "This gesture might just soften their demeanor."

"What, like cheese?"

"Oh, little bun, that'll drive them even more mad once they found out you called them rats."

You share another grin with him, finding a cozy spot to rest your chin upon his shoulder in contentment, "Good! I think they're funny when their faces turn red."

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I’ll appreciate it very very much! Don’t repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[mayullla]

Hi!! I really love your blog and writing. Can i request ☘️, 🦋 Dottore (platonic yandere) Thank you!

Title: Child's Confusion

Character(s): Il Dottore (Genshin Impact)

Summary: A sickly child you lived in Dottore's lab not knowing the secrets hidden within the place and with the doctor himself.

Warnings/tags: Platonic yandere, Fem!reader (child!reader, sick!reader), yandere, possessive, manipulation, experimentation, physical torture(?), emotional torture(?)

Note: Dottore is a warning all by himself....

[ - A little present~! Event - Closed - ]

In your young mind, you never really understood this man who had taken you in. 'Interesting' he finds you when you were alone in the dark with no place to go back to when he found you, having heard that you have this unknown illness that no doctor could cure. Alone by yourself, you reached out to him, taking his hand.

You lived in the trapped in the lab building after that...

You watch his face for reactions, any tells that told you what his mood was. Sometimes, it was how the doctor frowns every single minute... second... sometimes how he smiles always.

Sometimes he was a bit kinder to you, sometimes not really...

Sometimes, he was more forgiving. Sometimes, he was not. You didn't understand when he told you to head to the laboratory tomorrow night yesterday... and then this morning, he told you to go to another lab tonight. You were confused. You didn't know what to do because no matter what you did, you have broken a promise... an order...

You covered your arms, shielding them from the world, covering your stomach and curling your toes as you looked at the floor scared. This Dottore was scarier and crueler in your eyes. He took your hand before you could even whisper a word, pulling it roughly as he took you to a lab that was not where he told you to go. 

Your own cries were painful to your ears, a ringing, and the knife's reflection made you freeze in fear. He never spoke a single comforting word, not once. Sometimes he did, maybe when he was in the mood, sometimes your sniffles would be met with sighs and words that called you pathetic, sometimes nothing at all. Today through you had to listen to it tell you that you should be grateful that he took you in and that you shouldn't continue to disobey his orders like this.

Your arm held by his was sore in pain. The man had found you as you were heading to another lab that you have been told by him to go to. His mumbles you could hear clearly so sensitive to his voice and emotions. 

“Where are you going? I told you to go to the lab 1034. What are you doing on the opposite side of the building.” His voice was threatening to you, annoyed and frustrated that you disobeyed his orders. His hold on your arm was tight. His legs were too long, and you forced yourself to run unless you wanted to trip and fall and cause even more anger.

The injections were painful, your eyes in tears, as you let the man inject you with what he told you was potentially medicine that could heal you. You didn't want this, this pain. It was too painful as you tugged in your restraints. But he didn't let you go, his words hostile and demeaning he continued to watch and look for side effects from the medicine that he created for you. You felt nothing but a fish struggling to live in dry land under her gaze.

You were scared of the stare of the mask, but it was better than his real eyes. Red and glowing as they stared at you, a monster. You knew yet at the same time didn't understand that he was trying to save you when all he gave you was pain. His personality kept on changing, and so was his kindness. But you didn't know... you would probably never know.

He was a monster that grew attached to you. He had become used to your small little self always being somewhere near him. The small light pats on the floor caused by your feet as you were allowed to explore the building but never outside or certain areas unless you were accompanied by a fatui or his permission. There was this one time when you went out and stayed outside for hours lost as no one was keeping you in check, only for him to find you shivering in a corner of the woods, hands cold. You weren't allowed out as often anymore.

The first time he meet you he was interested in this new sickness you had that no doctor was able to figure out, it was his first time too but while most gave up he offered you a deal, that it might be painful, that he does even know if you would heal, but he would try yet. He would take all the knowledge in helping you and turn it into another weapon, he didn't care for your life. 

Yet when did he start to...

But in the end, he was still a monster, and that was something that would not change.

That his affection and care would look nothing but a cruel entertainment to your pain and sorrow. As he removed the tears from your eyes, the experiment finished for the day he watched the way you flinched. Your eyes shined with tears so obviously with fear and pain in them. He didn't react. Instead, he left you in the room alone. Huffing annoyance as stating that he had much to do.

Truly how funny was it that it was not just one monster that so craved your being that right after another monster would find you with a smile on his face as he asked you why you were not in the room that he told you to be instead here… leaving your mind confused even when you were in so much pain.

“Why are you crying, dear?” You looked up from the floor, eyes widening when you saw Dottore again looking down at you with a smile on his face. You looked at the door and then at him, wondering why he came back when he was busy. You flinched when he raised his hand. Never once did he ever hit you ever since your stay here, yet the experiments he had done left fear in your heart.

Yet instead of the pain you were expecting, your head was touched lightly, ruffling your hair as if comforting you. “It seems that one segment found you first and left you soon after. Are you still in pain?” You looked at him confused at his words, but he made no actions to explain as he gently took you in his arms and carried you away from the lab. “There, there, don't cry, girl. You did a good job handling the pain. Rest now, let's get you something to eat in your room, and then rest.” the doctor told you, looking at you.

You looked at him confused. Why was he being nice to you all of a sudden? His personality shifting again and again was just so confusing to you that you were always on edge. But you nodded quietly. “Doctor, when will I ever get well?” You asked, voice raspy from all your cries, quiet like a whisper as you wonder about your future.

Dottore paused. His steps stopped for a moment before continuing to walk. “You will get well soon, child. After all, I have promised you that I would do my utmost to cure you. It just takes a little more patience.” Dottore didn't look at you but instead in front of him, but to be honest, you weren't too sure when he wore that mask that covered his eyes.

You looked at him, almost doubtfully, yet soon after, there was a small spark of determination and hope in your eyes as well as peace, a belief that he would save you. It was laughable truly.

It wasn't a lie that he wanted to cure you, not only because he cared for this small life that didn't know anything about this world. He was far from this caring man rather than a monster after all but also because he was curious about your sickness... But he wasn't sure what will come after it, he wasn't so sure he would let you go after you have pulled all his heartstrings that he thought he never had and the other segments.

You weren't necessarily special, nothing unique other than your illness. He wasn't even sure why he was like this in the first place, yet here he was.

He will keep you here a little longer after he finally finds a cure but if you were to ever insist that you wished to leave, then don't be surprised when you fall into another illness. Your life was in his hands it was just that you didn't know the extent of it.

[idyllic-affections]

dad!pantalone iii (ft. the harbingers).

summary. the harbingers all have their own choice nicknames for pantalone's child.

trigger & content warnings. dottore clones being... dottore clones. you know? yeah.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. dad!pantalone & reader, la signora & reader, acaramouche & reader, il dottore & reader, arlecchino & reader, columbina & reader, childe & reader, pulcinella & reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader. prev | next

author's thoughts. i wrote this series quite some time ago but i think about it all the time. it was honestly so fun to write LMAO i miss it sometimes.....

the harbingers rarely seem to call pantalone's child by their name. they all have their own nicknames for the little one. let's see what they are, shall we?

starting off with the man himself, pantalone has a collection of nicknames he uses to refer to his kid, from something as simple and tender as 'little one' or 'my dove' to the more embarrassing 'my gem.' the latter becomes one of those nicknames that begins to embarrass his child as they get older, especially in their preteen years (by the time they're 15, 16, 17... they've gotten used to it). he finds it funny, the way they fluster and stutter and complain about that nickname being very embarrassing when he uses it in public. he's almost pouty when the time comes that they don't find it embarrassing anymore. he also takes fondly to a simple 'darling' or 'love.'

la signora's nicknames are a little more... extravagant, for lack of a better word. after they burned the balladeer's coat, she took to calling them 'my little flame.' all of her nicknames are oddly fire related. she has little shame calling them such things in public, and she likes to think her nicknames function as something of a warning sign; after all, they do have the capacity to be destructive. everyone should be aware that they are no easy target, she thinks. there are some, however, that she tends to only use when there are fewer people around, such as 'firefly.' additionally, she seems to call them 'dearest' rather often. it's the most "normal" of her nicknames.

scaramouche calls them 'pyromaniac,' and does so very bitterly, might i add. end of story. he will never forget what they did despite the fact that they were a child with poor pyro control when they did it.

il dottore, in his omega build... well, nothing he calls them is even remotely affectionate. 'brat,' 'menace,' the list goes on. he could fill an entire book with the mean nicknames he uses on them. they find it quite funny, actually. he can't physically or psychologically hurt them, so he resorts to shitty nicknames? pathetic. this, however, tends to vary between segments. some—keyword: some—of both the younger and older segments are actually quite fond of them, and use 'mon petit monstre' on them... is that a term of endearment or are they being harassed?? they have no clue. they speak the common tongue of fontaine, so they know what it means, and yet... they really can't tell if it comes from a place of fondness or not. zeta, more commonly known as webttore, will not hesitate to call them a bitch but if anyone else does it, he might end up adding another heinous crime to his already extensive list.

arlecchino, the woman who raised them until about the age of five, tends to simply call them by their name, unlike most of the harbingers. sometimes, though, she'll call them 'honey' or 'my dear' in a very gentle, tender tone. now, if any fatui agent catches her doing this... it won't end well. she's soft only for them and columbina but she doesn't need people knowing about that. she has a reputation, after all. the knave isn't all that kind, no, but she did grow fond of them, and she still holds a small grudge against the regrator for leaving them with her for so long.

columbina, oh, her nicknames are easily the sweetest—'angel,' 'sweetheart,' 'lovely,' it goes on. she and dottore are on opposite ends of the nickname scale. every pet name she calls them is laced with only the utmost saccharine sweetness. contrary to popular belief, it comes from a place of genuine fondness.

childe's nicknames are a little different. they're all friendly and perhaps a bit too casual, given the fact that [name] could ruin his life very easily. 'kiddo,' 'bud,' 'kid,' archons... its almost as if childe forgets that they aren't too much like other children their age. what other snezhnayan child their age is the most lucrative target in all of teyvat, yet simultaneously the most untouchable?... perhaps it's simply because he sees another sibling in them. who knows?

pulcinella's nicknames are the typical "old man talking to his grandchild" nicknames—namely 'dear' and 'young one.'

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[byorkewkew]

[uplatterme]

random tinyttore headcanons:

tinyttore’s favorite branch of science is physics. he also favors towards machinery, often causing chaos in the lab by making a bunch of robotic toys that explode after a certain period of time.

he has an allergy to apples. so far, no one has learned of this secret.

tinyttore doesn’t like dealing with statistics. so when dottore rejects a project of his without the right data or mathematical backing, he fakes it.

he gets along with webttore and causes chaos everywhere. the collateral damage when these two are left alone is through the roof.

he’s the human version of when a cat kills a rat and brings it to you. if you two are eating and someone’s eavesdropping, he’ll take his fork and starts stabbing them. then, he’ll go to you for head pats, asking if he did good.

he likes sneaking everywhere. in the vents, under the floorboards, in the attic. he’s good at staying quiet despite his arrogance, something that dottore actually finds favorable, sending him out in missions to spy.

[megahertzmaroon]

And they were roommates. Oh my god they were roommates🤭

[intothegenshinworld]

Tofu Anon:

She only knows Dottore from the Winter Night’s Lazzo trailer.

But please step-father Dottore is killing me in cold blood-

Father figure Dottore [Platonic HC's] - because I can :)

He isn't that affectionate. It's not that he doesn't care, it's more so that he doesn't know how to show it.

Because of this, hugs are a little awkward. He never initiates it but on the off chance you do, he'll awkwardly pat your back with a "there, there".

And while he isn't particularly good at showing love, you'll notice that he brings back little trinkets from explorations and projects from his lab. It's his love language,

A small box is placed on top of your desk. It's wrapped in light pink wrapping paper with a blue bow.

'Ah, dad's back home.'

When you open the box you find a small toy replica ruin guard. Well... toy might be the wrong word since he added every detail a normal one has.

°

You wonder if it can shoot stuff.

Surprise!! It did shoot a lazer. Not a dangerous one, but if you hold it on paper for long enough it'll start to burn.

You will eventually meet Pantalone, and Dottore would hate it. Sure, he's the biggest source of the money for his projects, but he can't help but feel overprotective of you when another Harbinger is near.

Once brought you to Sumeru when you were a kid and had to fight a rishboland tiger that attacked the two of you when he was distracted. You definitely laughed as you watched your dad fist fight the animal

Overall not too bad. He's just a little bit difficult to understand XD

[tofulikesmala]

I was thinking about a platonic Genshin impact story with a bit of angst where the reader is male and is a clone of Dottore's son who died from sickness and the reader was tricked into believing that Dottore was truly his father but the reader didn't have a familial bond with him and deeply fears Dottore even though he rarely interacts with the reader but the reader ends up becoming friends with the traveller and went to Sumeru with them and after Scaramouche was defeated and irminsul was saved, when Dottore spoke with Nahida he revealed the readers true origins. (I was inspired by Hunter from the owl house)(if you're not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight and I hope you're in good health and spirits☺️)

On a bed of wilted roses Chapter 1

The scent of morning dew filled your nose as you watered your plants. Roses, to be in fact. It was strange how a person like you, a male, would have taken liking to such a girly thing. Strange isn't it? But how could you let go something so precious to you?

*sniff* *hic* m-mom... don't leave me! My hand grasped those frail hands of hers ever so tightly. Snot practically blocked almost half of my airway, causing me to cough between sobs. The infamous plague that spread across Sumeru, had finally come to take the life of my beloved mother. Even so, my father, Dottore couldn't do anything but watch. My mothers hand reached to slowly caress my hair, it was trembling as she patted my head. "You know i love you, right?" I clenched my fist harder, my palm started staining with blood as my nails dug into my hand. No, my mom's stronger than that....right? She won't let some lowly disease take her....right? I hugged her tightly as i recalled all the moments we had together, we had to have more of that....right? RIGHT?

I cried and screamed until I had fainted, whatever happened after that, was all a blur, the plague was gone, and many lives were lost.

My mother had died with a smiling face that day, and from then on, I decided to fulfill her wishes. My mother had always loved roses, after all, it was the plant that my father used to propose to her. Ah....my father. A very interesting man. Every time I met him, my heart felt like it was going to explode, sweat would come down in droplets. Even though he wears a mask, his gaze underneath it felt like a ton of bricks crushing me. I sighed as i rubbed my temples. I looked to the rose garden I had planted in the past 3 years, it was a beautiful sight indeed. I looked up at the sky, the wind blowing my hair. Mother, I hope your happ-

*CRASH*

"ACK-" I used my arms to shield my face as soil came flying towards my face. Just what the fuck was that....?

NOTES: HSIUHFEI IM SO SORRY MY MUM PUT ONE MINUTE ON MY TUMBLR AND ALL MY PROGRESS GOT LOST ANYWAYS IM SORRY ITS SO SHORT DON'T WORRY THE NEXT PART WILL BE UPLOADED IN 1-3 DAYS TIME

[bluelead35]

i would like to be dottore's daughter-dadtorre supremacy. I know most people want zhongli as a father and to that i say heck yeah, however i myself love zhongli and simp for him, so my entire view on two of my favorite characters are switched from the rest of the fans' views. but please enjoy this little snipet of writing to fulfill my brain- this is predominately based off of one of my own characters in genshin, who gets taken in by dottore. please be kind to my writing, despite different views of characters. i am incredibly aware this is ooc.

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

"Even villains can be good dads."

inpired by original genshin impact character.

may be ooc/ out of character.

TW: mentions of bleeding and wounded.

characters: dottore

no romantic pairings. strictly platonic and found family.

the cold fingertips touched his own countless experimented on skin. her little hands folded along the edges of the mask he wore. her own red eyes mirrored his, and despite keeping the mask on, he felt seen. her pale and clapped lips were pressed into thin line, after crying. she was shaking-both from the coldness and fright. the so called scientist furrowed his eyebrows, eyes moving to see her now resurfacing wound. the snow that was she found in had stopped the bleeding, but he needed to act fast. he needed to act fast, yet the little girl resisted. he sighed, his own hand reaching up and holding her hand and bringing it to her chest. he grabbed the mask and tore it off.

red eyes mirrored each other, and suddenly he didn't feel so alone.

she was ten, the same age that everything started for him. she had the same eyes as him, bright red with fear. she had the same resilence as him.

so when she left as the newest addition to the habringers on a mission to his homeland, he realized he had done well in raising her.

◇◇◇

[belphiesreverie]

Could I request platonic Dottore headcanons?

Yes ofc!! Here you go anon 💕

You must have the patience of a saint to be Dottore’s friend, because that man has no idea how to sustain a friendship properly

I’m convinced he’s never had any type of positive, healthy relationship in his life, so he has no clue how to act when you show him genuine kindness

He’s incredibly spontaneous, liking to just show up and invade your personal space whenever he feels like it and barge in on any plans that you may have

But he’ll also disappear for weeks on end when he’s working on experiments, and you’ll have to reach out to him to make sure he’s still alive and hasn’t starved in his lab

Small acts of kindness really throw him for a loop and he has no idea how to react in those situations. There have been times where you’ve brought him food because you made too much, and he’s just gotten up and left the room because he didn’t know how to say thank you

But you can expect to find a very strange thank you gift left somewhere in your house within the next few days

And of course, being friends with Dottore also means being friends with his clones. They’ve all got their own distinct personalities and opinions of you as well. Some like you, and some think of you as an inconvenience

There was a few times at the beginning of the friendship, when you couldn’t tell the clones apart yet, that a few kept attempting to find ways of ‘disposing’ of you

Admittedly, there are still some times where you can’t fully tell which Dottore is the real and which are clones, since some are very similar or very good actors. Sometimes, you wonder if you’ve ever actually met the real Dottore or if all of them are just clones. But thinking about it too much probably isn’t a good idea

[kaixserzz]

Just Like Me.

╭﹕🔪｡♡・SUMMARY.

A series of oneshots and drabbles of Il Dottore, the 2nd of the 11 Harbingers, becoming something that he should never be; a father. Posts will not be in order, hence no proper timeline. However, I will put the reader's age on each update. Each update may not be as entertaining as the last, but this focuses on the growth of the relationship between a man who is not meant to be a father, and a child who simply reminded him of his younger self. This is strictly familial and platonic. Don't worry, you'll see a lot more friends into the series! While this series hold light heartedness, comedy and fluff, please read through the warnings.

[CW: BASIC DOTTORE WARNINGS, CANON TYPICAL VIOLENCE (CAN BE GRAPHIC), BLOOD, EXPERIMENTATION, MENTIONS OF SLIGHT (?) CHILD ABUSE, TRAUMA, DISSOCIATION, MURDER. Mental illness (for both Dottore and Reader) will be not specified (I have no idea either) but you can think of it as anything you'd like/think. You may proceed with this information.]

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ 💉 *ೃ༄

The Fox, the Crow, and the Bunny.

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ 🧪 *ೃ༄

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I’ll appreciate it very very much! Don’t repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[mayullla]

Title: Seeking him

Character(s): Il Dottore (Genshin Impact) Warnings/tags: Haunted doll au: Fem!reader (child!reader), dark themes, obsession themes, platonic yandere au, tw horror: dark rooms, flickering lights, mannequins Really Dottore is a warning himself at this point...

Haunted doll au masterlist

"Hmmm so you are here… I am surprised that this is how we meet." You looked at the man while cyan hair and his eyes were covered by a mask. His tone was entertained with a tint of curiosity. Inside a room dark with only little light, you struggled to see him clearly.

"Doctor?" you called him out, scared of the dark where you thought the monster lay. You could not see who he was but when you saw red eyes you thought that maybe it was him.

"Mm.." It was a confirmation of who he was. Quickly you went to him grasping his jacket. 

You couldnt see his reaction as you looked around you, the room was really to dark for a small child like you. “What are you doing dear?” He asked, looking at you. You looked up at the red eyes “I am scared of the sleep monster….” You told him.

You heard him scoff, laughing at your words as he patted your head. “There is no sleep monster here. No monster could ever take you away from me.” The gloved hand patted your head as you looked up at him. “So will you protect me?” You asked him. 

His hand stopped patting you head at the question a long pause, only to again continued to pat your head. You thought that you saw a smile on his lips. “I wonder my dear.”

"Hmmm let's play a game dear." He said instead of answering, but it was enough for you to forget your fears excited that you would be able to play with one of your dolls. "How about hide and seek?" He asked.

"You wanna play with me?" Your eyes sparkled in delight unable to understand the grin on Dottore's face widened as he stared at you. "Yes, child."

"Where do we play? Who is the seeker?" You jumped a little unable to contain your excitement at the mention of games. "You will be the seeker and you have to come find the real me okay?" Dottore pointed at you, telling you that you would have to search for him.

"The real you?" You blinked confused at his words. 

"Yes. Can you do that?" 

You didn't understand what he meant by those words. You didn't understand but you nodded anyway determined to win the game.

Dottore laughed, so very entertained by your bright eyes, "Let's start then~. Close your eyes and count to three."

One.. two.... three

In the darkroom you were alone, the person that was right beside you had left you and disappeared. 

You were alone. 

You followed the little light that was in the room pushing to see it was door. Outside the dark room was a old old hallway, the wallpaper browning while the light yellow from the old lightbulb. It was scary for you.

Taking a step back, you thought of how you needed to find Dottore that you finally moved towards the hallway, leaving the room.

In the corridor you ran searching for him, looking for him in each room where the lock was open and not tightly shut. Some rooms were empty some rooms had tables or chairs but the walls were bare of any decoration. Some rooms were too dark, that you hesitate to step in.

It was till you found a room with a dying lamp right beside it was a table. And right in front of it was a familiar stature with cyan hair.

You found him! Running towards him you called hi name, the familiar cyan hair his back was facing at you looking at the table doing… something. You didn't care what he was doing, excited that you have won the game you ran towards him grabbing his white coat.

You watched him fall to the floor, separating into pieces.

His legs were first to go out when you watched as his knees fell apart. Next was the body and arms then the head. You stared at the detached hollow head and neck, his face towards you and his neck hollow inside as if he was no more than a puppet with his strings cut.

You didn't react all you did was stare at the body, a mannequin. You didn't understand what happened the ringing sounds in your ears were painful. It was hard to breathe.

"My it seems that found the wrong one." You watched as the mannequin's mouth move a smile gracing its face. You didn't say anything and it seems it didn't care. "You found the wrong one, my dear. I am still hiding somewhere. The game would not end till you find me after all."

You blinked at it, you could not see its eyes because of the mask that it wore. You saw Dottore’s eyes many times, and always commented that they looked similar to a white rabbit's eyes. 

So pretty you always fawned at them.

You can't remember what color they were. Dizzy it made you as you tried to remember, your head felt like someonebodt took a needle to brain and started poking at it… you want it out. So you left the farther you were from the room the less the pain hurt.

You opened more doors, he wasn't there. Running you opened even more...nothing. You ran and ran begging for something... someone to help you find him. You begged him to come out and that you where scared and that you needed him. 

Nothing.

Everything looked the same, all the colors and shapes repeating and the flickering light did not change. 

You finally reached a room at the end of the hallway... What felt like you were running for hours you were finally reached the end.

You pushed the door and looked inside, dark you could not see anything till it suddenly become bright as the lights flickered on. Dottore was right in the middle of the room smiling at you. You dont remember was happened at that moment.

It was only silence in between your sniffles, your hand clenched tightly on his clothes almost scared that you would lose him. That you would forever be lost.

"It seems that you found me. Congratulations dear."

When you woke up you felt your heart beat loudly in your chest. The uncomfortable feeling was unfamiliar but you didn't understand it. You didn't understand the fear in your heart, the haunting nightmare that you dreamt of. Your room dark as the sun has yet to rise.

You are not alone.