#sadistic Dottore

[screamingcrows]

"Medical malpractice isn't about the degree, it's about the passion" - Pantalone, comforting Dottore after a rough day

[montammil]

Lab whumper dialogue

My favorite trope is the sadistic scientist/doctor whumper, so I may have indulged...

1. “The greatest scientific discoveries often require us to step outside of our comfort zones. Are you willing to take that leap with me?”

2. “It will only hurt for a moment.”

3. “My dear, the ends always justify the means. Think of how so many people will find our research beneficial. You aren’t being selfish, are you?”

4. “Morality is just a construct created by society.”

5. “Everything we do is in the name of science... and science requires sacrifice.”

6. “You should feel privileged. Few people have the chance to contribute so directly to the advancement of science.”

7. “I understand your apprehension, but remember, you agreed to this.”

8. “I must admit, darling, I find your resilience quite admirable. You're much stronger than my previous test subjects. But don’t worry, I have a few tricks up my sleeve to break even the strongest of wills.”

9. “I assure you, I have done this many times before. You will be fine.”

10. “I know the methods I use may seem cruel to the unenlightened mind, but you’ll understand... one day.”

11. “I’ll have to remember to make note of this in my journal. Fascinating.”

12. “The line between genius and madness is a thin one, so go ahead and call me mad. To me, it’s a compliment.”

13. “You signed a consent form, correct? Then you fully knew the risks.”

14. “You’re doing so well, darling. Just a little longer and we’'ll have all the data we need.”

15. “I’m sorry, but the procedure was not a complete success. We'll have to try again. As many times as it takes. You understand, right?”

[wri0thesley]

i can think of no worse fate for any darling than somehow ending up caught between albedo and dottore btw

[saintshigaraki]

i like to make things up about my favorite characters and state it like a fact

[sadiecoocoo]

Istg if all three of them aren’t playable by the end of genshin (if it ever ends) I’m gonna cry

[lemon-boy-stan]

Genshin men NSFW headcanons

Smut. Headcanons. FEATURING: diluc, kaeya, childe, dottore, xiao, wriothesley, neuvillette x reader. WARNINGS: breeding (diluc, zhongli, wriothesley), size kink (diluc, childe) CNC (kaeya), exhibitionsim (kaeya), knife/sword play (kaeya), monsterfucking (childe, zhongli), sex films (kaeya), corruption (dottore), dumbification (childe, dottore), dollification (dottore), objectification (dottore), torture (dottore), cum play (xiao), size kink (diluc, wriothesley), face riding (xiao), thigh riding (xiao, wriothesley), cock riding (xiao, wriothesley), handcuffs (wriothesley), toys (neuvillette), oral (neuvillette)

MINORS DON'T INTERACT ISTG.

DILUC

Ever since you've been in a relationship with Diluc, he's always been a service top.

Diluc also fucks to make love. Sex is meaningful to him, unless, of course, when he's angry or jealous.

He's a dom, and enjoys being in control, but also enjoys worshipping you.

Diluc only wants to make you feel good

Although he is a Pyro character, so sometimes he might get out of control

When he's really angry or really turned on, his eyes flash dark red.

Diluc is often vocal in sex. He groans alot, sometimes moans, and is always praising how well you're doing for him.

He's always had a breeding kink, but since your marriage, he can't get the idea of kids out of his head.

Diluc also adores the fact that you're so much smaller than him.

Every time he stretches you open you still squeal because he's too big.

He's drunk with how you make him feel, and he knows no one else would ever make him feel this good.

KAEYA

Switch but mostly Dom.

A mean one at that.

He enjoys things like CNC, knife play.

Seeing you squirm beneath him just gets him harder.

He does enjoy to sub sometimes, but you're never completely in control.

Kaeya is also an exhibitionist.

If he gets jealous, he'll fuck you infront of whoever made him jealous; maybe his brother or another knight.

In a modern au, he'd defineltey enjoy making sex films. He'd just love having videos of you all fucked out on his phone, cockdrunk.

CHILDE

Childe is a top, even more cruel than Kaeya.

Unlike Diluc, Tartaglia fucks to fuck.

He has alot of pent-up stress from his job, and he needs to let it out somehow.

What better way than his pretty little traveller?

Tartaglia loves seeing the fear in your eyes when he backs you up against a wall.

He loves how you suck his cock in so well, taking it every time even if it hurts.

Childe is often scared that one day he may hurt you in his foul legacy form.

He disagrees with the idea at first, and it takes a lot of convincing.

But one day, when he's turned, he can't resist you

He is ten feet tall, and his cock is fifteen inches.

He's a bit like a dragon in where the idea what's his is his.

In his foul legacy form, Childe's voice has you under a spell where you do anything he says.

DOTTORE

Dottore is a sadist.

You're just so innocent, and you just love him so much, he can't help but use you.

He loves your pretty blonde hair, and how lost and dumb you are for him.

You're such a good little doll, better than any of his creations.

He'd only ever fucked his creations before, but when you joined the fatui, he knew he felt something strong for you, something warm and different.

While he enjoys torturing you, in his own way, he's showing how much he loves you.

There's only the best for you, the best treatment, the best gifts.

Dottore loves how you're still not used to his fingers, his kisses, his touches.

He loves corrupting you, making you even more obsessed with him, almost brainwashed from his cock.

Maybe one day he'll put a concoction on you, give it to you to drink.

XIAO

Xiao is a major switch who loves to worship you.

He loves being inside you. He gets antsy alot when he isn't.

He's got a high sex drive, so you can count on alot of sex.

He also has the prettiest, sexiest moans.

Xiao loves making a mess of his cum, covering your body in it.

Xiao loves when you ride his face, his cock, his thighs. He can't get enough of it.

He loves you cumming on him, not being able to stop yourself.

Sometimes he'll have his hand wrapped around your throat if you talk back too much.

He also likes somnophilia. Once, Xiao saw you sleeping, and he just couldn't help yourself. And when he heard you moaning in your sleep, it became his new obsession.

WRIOTHESLEY

Wriothesley is a big believer in handcuffs and punishment.

He has many rules, and many repurcussions.

He likes having you helpless, being obsessed with him.

He's a former boxer, so he's very strong

He often manhandles you unintentionally, and his grip is so tight it often leaves marks.

If you're bad, he will cuff your hands behind your back. No exceptions.

He loves how tiny you are, how big his cock is compared to you.

He loves fucking you in the ass, it's his favourite thing to fill you up from behind.

He loves seeing you bounce on his abnormally large cock and his thighs.

Most importantly, he's obsessed when you shove your head into his neck, mewling at how good he feels.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette is a switch who mostly enjoys subbing, and when he doms he likes being on bottom too.

Neuvillette loves when your mouth is around his cock. He'd never had any kind of sex before, and as soon as he felt you around him, he was obsessed.

He loves when his nipples are in your mouth. They're so sensitive, that he's squirming and gripping the bedsheets.

He loves being overstimulated, even if he's on top. When he cums so much that he can't anymore, his voice always breaks and he always starts crying because of how good it feels.

He loves when you use toys on him, he's a pillow princess. Vibrators, plugs, strap-ons, you name it.

He loves to shake of orgasms, and making messes all over you.

ZHONGLI

Zhongli has never had sex with a human before

But with you, he just couldn't resist.

He had to mate with you, make you his.

Don't you know dragons don't share their belongings?

Your scent was just... Different to him than anyone else. Special, perfect.

When he gets jealous, he half-turns into his form, his arms turning black and golden, horns growing on his head, tail forming behind him.

He uses his tail to keep you in place.

Sometimes, he makes you drink the ichor he bleeds, coaxing you into it, purring how much he wouldn't be able to live a lifetime without you.

He's obsessed with breeding you, as dragons mate for life.

Zhongli sees sex as something necessary, and is able to track your cycle by scent. He knows if you're on your period, when to fuck you, when to make love with you, and he knows if you're carrying his children.

GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST

NAVIGATION

[bunnibaby-love]

💕 𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴 💕

♡ implied female reader

Missionary / Making love

They would stare at your eyes forever if he could. He thinks it's the most beautiful and intimate to watch while he is making love to you.

Would love to held your hand beside your head and whispering his love for you. It's easier to kiss your soft lips when he cums and and kiss on your forehead after the intimate moment

- Neuvilette, Zhongli, Diluc, Dainsleif, Alhaitham, Welt, Danheng, Nanami, Higuruma, Choso, Yuta

Cowgirl / Soft sex

It's the perfect position for him to admire your whole beauty. Your beautiful body on top of him makes it like he is under spell or maybe he really is

He gets so shy and flustered too under you but he can't just stay his hand still. Holding your waist and play with your peaks with his tongue. Would really love and might melt if you suck on his neck and just cums

- Neuvilette, Thoma, Gepard, Choso

Doggy / Rough Sex

Except from your beautiful face, he really just love your ass and how hot your back is. Bonus if you have back dimples, he would go crazy. Riding you and gripping your waist so hard you know it will definitely bruise like how he wanted

Thinks your ass is so cute red so he spanks it so much you are losing control to stay still but he would just grab you back with your waist. Your butthole is also cute and he will put his thumb finger just to tease you. Loves to grips your body back against him and cums deep down.

- Wriothesley, Kaeya, Alhaitham, Tartaglia, Ayato, Blade, Jing Yuan, Gojo, Geto, Toji

Mating / Hard sex

Suddenly gains a baby fever and now just wanna breed you so bad. The position is too hot also and your cute crying face! He is thrusting way too deep

You don't even think you can spread like this and even putting both your legs almost against your head. You're so sure gonna be so sore tommorrow but you can't even stop him with his fiery eyes loading load and loads of cum deep inside you

- Wriothesley, Diluc, Neuvilette, Tartaglia, Dottore, Ayato, Danheng IL, Blade, Jingyuan, Gojo, Geto, Toji, Sukuna

BSDM / Sadist and Masochist

He loves you very much but he also loves when you are crying in pain and pleasure. He just have many kinks and fantasies and really loves that you are into it too

With harsh spankings, wax play, bondage (he really loves shibari because you're too beautiful with those ropes and the marks!) and many more.

- Wriothesley, Ayato, Blade, Jing Yuan, Dr Ratio, Toji, Gojo, Geto, Sukuna

[kamocore]

The Doctor's Little Assistant.

ft. dottore !

sypnosis ; dottore rewards you for your hard efforts.

warnings ; top ! dottore , dottore is a warning himself , face fucking , power dynamics , boss n assistant relationships , degradation , slight praise , facials , light face slapping , lowkey rushed no bullying :'3

wc ; 1.6k. enjoy !!

Dottore's personal assistant. 

You're the only one allowed inside his lab, outside of his clones and his disgusting little lab-rats of course. You're one of the only ones he actually tolerates. You're always so good for him, tidying up his mess of an office when he doesn't ask and always bringing him extra coffee when you know he's running low on it.

He's almost certain he's not gonna kill you off like the others, he likes you.

He likes the way you immediately oblige like you even had a choice when he asks to experiment on you. "I'd be happy to, my lord." You say, giving him a smile and a nod. He knows that you're scared beneath your little act, he can just sense it, and he loves it. He gets off on your pain and fear, and he finds it amusing when you try to hold back your wails of pain. 

Dottore especially loves when you start to let tears run down your face because of how much it hurts. You're left trembling, sniffling every couple seconds as he unstraps you from the vivisection table, but you would be lying if you said there wasn't a part of you that secretly enjoys it. He's a sick and twisted sadist, and you like it.

He thinks you're so pretty with your tear stained face and ruined makeup. He just shakes his head when you complain about it as if you weren't the one crying.

Maybe if you had let him remove your tear glands and ducts it wouldn't be an issue.

Dottore brings you to the fatui meetings too, he knows it's not allowed but he could care less. when Pierro reminds him that, "Anyone who isn't apart of the ranks, is strictly not allowed into the meetings." Dottore ignores him, and he keeps you right by his side, and when he can see your legs getting tired, he orders you to sit on his lap. He doesn't care when you get embarrassed, and he certainly doesn't care that his co-workers look at you two either, his sadistic smile only grows larger.

"You've been a very obedient girl as of recent, haven't you." It was an observation, but you still nod your head as if he just asked you a question while you try to avoid looking at his face. "Stupid little thing. Look at me when I talk to you." Dottore growls. He grabs your jaw with a vice like grip to make you look up at him and even though you can't see his eyes, you can still feel them on you. It feels like all the air has been knocked out of your lungs and you're quick to mutter out an apology. "Of course, my lord.. 'm sorry." 

"Good girl." He praises as he pulls his gloved hand away from your jaw. "I'd say an award is in order, hm?" He says as he starts walking over to a swivel chair that's behind you. You want to follow him but in fear of being disobedient, you stay frozen in place. As he sits down, he calls out your name and you're quick to turn around to face him. 

"Crawl to me."

You stand there for a moment, processing his words, feeling the heat slowly creeping into your cheeks. "Yes, my lord," you manage to spit out. Despite the embarrassment, you comply, dropping to your knees and then shifting onto all fours, moving toward him as instructed. Each movement is deliberate, the anticipation building with every inch closer to him. Finally, you find yourself between his legs, facing him on your knees, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you settle between Dottore's legs, your heart begins to race due to anticipation. You can feel his gaze piercing through you and it sends shivers down your entire body as you wait for his next command.

Dottore smirks, relishing in the control he holds over you. "Always so good," he murmurs, his voice laced with dark amusement. "You know exactly how to please me." You lower your gaze, feeling the weight of his words like chains around your neck. "Thank you, my lord," you mumble obediently, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk only widens as he looks down at you, reveling in the power he holds. His gloved hand reaches out, fingers curling under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The leather feels cold and unyielding against your skin. "You look good on your knees," he muses, his tone dripping with sadistic undertones. "Maybe I should make you my desk pet."

You whine and swallow hard at the suggestion, feeling a mix of fear and excitement coil in your belly. "Please," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly and truthfully you don't even know what you're asking for. The way he looks down upon you, like he knows you're inferior to him, sends shivers down your spine.

He releases your chin and leans back in his chair, spreading his legs slightly to give you more room. "You know what to do," he commands, his voice cold and demanding. "Show me how compliant you really are, love."

Oh fuck.

The pet name almost kills you and it makes your breath hitch. You nod anyway, reaching up with shaky hands to unbuckle his belt. You can feel Dottore watching you as you do so and you can feel your face burning with embarrassment. But you push through, determined to please him.

As you pull down his trousers, you're met with the sight of his cock straining against his boxers. it sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you can't let out a soft moan at the sight. Dottore's chuckle is low and menacing, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. "Come on," he urges, his voice low and almost taunting. "You know better than to keep me waiting."

You comply and pulling down his boxers, freeing his cock and you can't take your eyes off of it. You lean in, pressing a tentative kiss to the tip and licking a long stripe up the side. Dottore's grip on your hair tightens, and he lets out a breath of approval. "Good girl," he murmurs. "Now take me in your mouth,"

You comply almost instantly. You open your mouth, taking his cock in slowly with your tongue swirling around the tip. Him in general but especially the taste of him is intoxicating, and you can feel the heat between your legs growing with each passing second. You hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, and his low groan of pleasure spurs you on.

Dottore's other hand joins the first, holding your head steady as you bob up and down. "Such a whore," he degrades, his voice laced with arousal. "You take me so well. You were made for this, weren't you?"

You moan around his cock, the vibrations making him hiss. His voice and his words a thrill through you, and you try taking him deeper into your mouth, wanting nothing more than to please him. Your pace quickens, your movements becoming more desperate as you lose yourself in the task.

Dottore's grip tightens painfully, and he thrusts his hips up, forcing himself deeper into your throat. "This is what you wanted, hm." He says, and though it was a statement, you still try to nod your head stupidly. In the process you gag, tears springing to your eyes, but you don't stop and neither does he. "That's right, gag on it." His groans grow louder, his breathing becoming more ragged. "You're so pathetic."

Your eyes water as you look up at him, the tears only serving to heighten his pleasure as he loves to see you cry. He smirks down at you, his thumb brushing away a tear that escapes down your cheek. "Pretty little thing.." He murmurs. "Take it, take it deeper."

He holds you there for a moment longer before finally releasing your head. You pull back, gasping for air, your lips swollen and wet with saliva. His chest is heaving up and down while you wrap your hands around the length of his cock. "I'm gonna cum," he groans, "Gonna paint your pretty face."

 Dottore pries your hands away from his cock and begins to stroke himself. You whine at the sight in front of you. "Please," you breathe out. He scoffs in amusement before slapping the tip of his cock on your cheek. "Open your mouth."

You instantly obey, looking up at him and sticking your tongue out. You're gross and messy right now but you know he likes seeing you ruined, especially if he's the cause. You're watching him stroke his cock from above you, pressing his thumb to the swollen and leaking tip. 

Your needy whines must've been just what Dottore needed to drive him over the edge. He groans as he reaches his climax and his free hand reaches for your jaw with a tight grip to hold you in place. Thick ropes of cum soon cover not only your chest, but your face and tongue as well. You keep your mouth open in an attempt and in hope to catch more of his cum on your tongue.

As soon as he comes down from his high, his hand comes down to slap your cheek and command you to swallow the bits that landed in your mouth. You oblige. He takes one more good look at you before tucking himself back into his boxers and pulling his pants up. "Clean yourself up." He spits coldly, and you nod. "Yes, my lord."

"When you're done, there's some paperwork I need you to get from The Regrator's office. Once you get it, bring it back here and I'll reward you once more."

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Rotting Divinity.

Pairing: Yandere!Scaramouche x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 2.9k.

TW: Reader Is Referred To As A Shrine Maiden But Gender Neutral, Set A Few Years After Dottore Starts Experimenting On Scaramouche, Unhealthy Relationships, Obsessive Behavior, Kidnapping, Themes of Chronic Illness, and Mentions of Human Experimentation.

Scaramouche opened his eyes as the sun set, casting the sky a dull pinkish blue. You were standing above him, a straw basket on your hip and a frown tugging on the corners of your lips.

He let a groan as he hauled himself into a more dignified position, palms planted in the raw dirt and dried grass caught in his hair. One glance was spared to establish that he was no longer in the Doctor’s cramped observation room, all cold stone walls and porcelain tables with leather straps stapled into each corner, before his attention settled on you. “Mortal,” he barked, speaking loudly enough to hear himself over the pain still buzzing in his skull. “Which island is this?”

“Yashiori, near Serpent’s Head,” you muttered, disappointment heavy in your tone. When he clicked his tongue, you went on, your frown deepening. “You ruined my herb garden.”

Had he? He couldn’t remember anything after the Doctor worked those long, tapered needles underneath the skin of his forearms; after an iron mask was forced over his mouth and nose and he began to think his body may tear itself apart before that sadist had the chance to. He wasn’t supposed to be in Serpent’s Head. He wasn’t supposed to be on Yashiro at all. He hadn’t meant to be here, and yet, he’d be thrown in a cage of iron bars and subjected to another round of testing as soon as he trudged back to that dungeon of a facility. Thinking about the feeling of thick, pulsing electricity coursing through his hollow limbs was enough to send a familiar bolt of agony down the length of his spine. It was little more than a phantom, a shadow of the torture it would take to unlock his truepotential, but it was enough to leave him curling into himself involuntarily, glaring at the soil with a hollow type of malice.

He would’ve recovered in a second – less than a second, a moment, a breath – if you hadn’t fallen to your knees at his side, cooing as you pressed the back of your hand into his forehead. “Are you hurt?” If he’d tried to answer, his response would’ve been lost to your fussing, the way you hummed and shook your head as you hauled him to his feet. “Body aches? Migraines? Whatever it is—” An arm was drawn over your shoulders, his weight forcibly rested on you. “—I’m sure I have something for it inside. A place for you to rest, too – however you got here, the journey had to be burdensome.”

He considered protesting. Even in the state he’d been reduced to, it would’ve taken nothing to pry himself away from you, to shatter your ankles underneath his heel and leave you begging for the mercy of the creature you’d tried to pity. He could’ve penned a letter to the Doctor as you bled out in the soil of your own garden, recovered his strength as he took your body apart and fed your remains, piece by piece, to whatever scavengers would have you. He could’ve, if he’d wanted to. He could’ve, but then, he saw what you were wearing.

The sleeves of your kosode were rolled neatly to the elbow, the hems of your pleaded hakama dusted with dirt and grass stains. Unlike the maidens of Watatsumi and the Grand Narukami Shrine, you wore neither red nor blue, but white. Pure, never-ending white.

Scaramouche went limp in your hold, his eyes falling shut as you let out a surprised laugh, doing your best to accommodate his now-dead weight. He could kill you tomorrow, he figured. It was already dusk, and while he didn’t mind traveling at night, he knew the Doctor wouldn’t begin to wonder where he was until the sun rose tomorrow morning. He wasn’t a dog, eager to crawl home and prove his obedience. He could wait until he was called for.

At least, by then, your worrying might’ve done something to dull the burn of the electricity underneath his skin.

~

“So, you’re telling me that this is a waste of time.”

You ignored him with a light hum, a quick movement of your tasseled gohei. Normally, daily rites were something to be performed quickly and efficiently before the unlucky shrine maiden responsible for carrying them out returned to scrubbing floorboards and disturbing fortunes, but in a life as slow as yours, with so little to occupy the many hours of your countless days, even repetitive tasks such as this were given an unnecessarily artistic flourish. Scaramouche might’ve called it indulgent, if he ever decided to be so kind to you.

Currently, you were dancing in front of a dilapidated shrine at the base of the snake’s skull; the paint mostly chipped away and the wood close to rotting. You’d explained, four days after he first allowed you to haul him into your ancient cabin, that you would be responsible for rebuilding it once it inevitably collapsed, an honor only bestowed upon caretakers every few centuries, and he’d told you that you ought to save yourself a few decades and tear it down that day, but you’d only laughed. Most things he said made you laugh.

He'd noticed early on that you were of a weak constitution. Dark bags circled under your eyes despite how often and how deeply you slept, and you seemed unable to carry anything heavier than what could fit in one of your woven baskets. There should’ve been another shrine keeper, if not several. And, if there could only be one, then it shouldn’t have been you.

Still, Scaramouche was glad that you had been chosen, even if you were a bad fit for the position. If it’d been anyone else, he would’ve had to get rid of them days ago, and he was thankful to be spared the effort.

“It’s not,” you said, consciously clipping his choice of words. You finished your rite with a deep bow, then turned to Scaramouche. “Shows of dedication make him happy.”

“He being…” His gaze drifted upward, to the fanged skull. Orobashi no Mikoto – the beast’s name provided by some nameless well of knowledge that seemed to linger in the space between the back of his throat and the pit of his chest. Consciously, the only title Scaramouche had ever thought to put to the serpent was that of ‘festering remains’. “…the fucking corpse?”

Right. It was too easy to forget that there was a pretense to his time with you; that he was supposed to be some wayward, ailing traveler with a mysterious condition your charms and cures could only keep at bay. He wasn’t lying to you. All he did was lie back and let you fuss over his nonexistent pulse, the bloodless pallor of his skin, the way his temperature never seemed to rise above that of damp clay. He wasn’t like the Doctor – scheming and underhanded, prone to leading his victims in circles before gifting them with the mercy of a slow death – or the priestess he could only vaguely remember from his first days, all dark eyes and whispers of a merciful end. You liked doting on him, and he didn’t mind keeping his mouth shut.

“If you keep using that kind of language, you might have to start sleeping outside.” You took up the basket of lavender melons you’d (admittedly, unwisely) left in his care, snatching it away before he could add to the small pile of black seeds stacked on his opposite side. Your hastiness left one of the rounder melons toppling over the well-worn edge, though, and he caught it with a single hand, grinning as he dug his teeth into the ripe flesh and claimed it for himself. You rolled your eyes, but quickly occupied yourself with clearing away yesterday’s fruit from the shrine. “It’s not complicated. We keep him happy, hold our rites and make our sacrifices, and he ensures that my crops grow quickly and the village prospers.” A pause, a smile thrown carelessly over your shoulder. You smiled as easily as you laughed, something that irritated Scaramouche to no end. “If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be recovering half as quickly as you are.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit.” He dug his teeth into the lavender melon as you gathered your things, sugary juice turning his lips tacky as he went on. “I’ve always been hard to kill.”

You came to stand above him, your smile small and eyes vaguely narrowed. “If you’re feeling that strong,” you started, holding your now-emptied basket in front of you. “Then you shouldn’t mind weeding the garden and fetching water, this afternoon.”

It only took him a moment to think to protest, but you were already gone, stumbling down the mountainside as he hastily pushed himself to his feet. He called your name, but he could already hear your voice – rising above his in one of your obnoxiously repetitive hymns and drowning him out as he chased after you.

~

The villagers welcomed you as sheep welcomed field dogs; from a distance.

Scaramouche trailed behind you as you plodded through the humble village, humming and clutching your basket close to your chest, fiddling nervously with the pure-white material of your sleeves. The crowd parted around you, twin walls of watchful eyes and hushed voices forming well-ahead of your path and collapsing as you strode past them, either unable or unwilling to acknowledge the thick silence that seemed to hang over you like a shroud. Occasionally, you’d stop at a stall or a doorway, handing off bundles of wrapped herbs to gloved and trembling hands, and less often, you’d send him a smile over your shoulder, your tired eyes wrinkling at the corners, as if apologizing that he had to come along for such a dull errand. That was how you described it, when he asked where you went off to every few days. ‘Just a quick trip to the market,’ you’d said, as you tried to convince him to stay behind yet again. When he cited your poor health and his growing concern that he’d find you dead in that garden of yours one day, you didn’t waver. ‘You’ll only be bored if you come. The villagers aren’t very friendly.’

Scaramouche decided, mostly on a whim, that he would burn down this village before he returned to the Doctor. If he had time.

He moved to rush forward, to place himself at your side, but a hand shot out of a narrow alleyway and caught him by the wrist. It was a middle-aged blacksmith, judging by the ash smeared across his cheeks, the thick apron hanging from his neck. Scaramouche was quick to pull out of his filthy grasp, but he spoke regardless, his voice low and rough. “Mind your distance, boy.” A glance towards you, a deep sneer. “Don’t you know who that is?”

Scaramouche glanced over him, fighting the urge to scoff. “Why is no one speaking to the healer?”

“That’s no healer, that’s the shrine maiden.” He said it as if he’d caught Scaramouche attempting to throw himself into a rifthound’s mouth. “They cultivate the serpent’s remains. You’ll be dead in a week if you—”

This time, Scaramouche was the one to reach out, his hand wrapping around the blacksmith’s neck. By instinct, a bolt of pure, searing electro shot from his palm into the man’s neck, leaving him limp and convulsing in Scaramouche’s hold. Scaramouche released him as the last of the aftershocks faded, watching him collapse to the ground before planting his heel on the man’s diaphragm, prepared to shift his weight and crush whatever laid below his foot should the blacksmith say something to displease him.

“I’ll ask again,” he said, slowly, ozone thick in the air. “Why is no one speaking to the healer?”

~

Scaramouche returned to your cabin closer to sunrise than sunset. Somewhere, back in the village that he would see reduced to embers if it was his last act on the face of Teyvat, the charred remains of a blacksmith smoldered at the bottom of a stone well, and he opened the door to your ramshackle home with enough force to tear the rotted piece of wood from its hinges.

You were kneeling beside your work table, grinding dried lavender petals into a fine powder. He closed the space between you in a breath, knocked the pestle from your hand in another, then collapsed beside you. “You’re going to die?”

You eyed the spilled lavender wearily. “Even the archons will fall, eventually.”

He let out a ragged sob, burying his face in the dip of your shoulder. You allowed him to, your arms coming up to wrap loosely around him. You’d always been weak, but now, you seemed as feeble as a morning gale.

He was unable to speak, so you took up the mantle, tracing idle patterns into the base of his spine as you went on. “I know what they tell newcomers, about dead gods and their rot, but it’s not as bad as it sounds. He gifts us with herbs to cure our sick and soothe our elders and in return, someone sacrifices a few years. The villagers might not be able to linger, but they make sure I’m taken care of.” He felt you smile, heard you laugh. “So long as I get to help people, I don’t mind making sacrifices.”

“Other people don’t matter.” It took him longer than he cared to admit to pry himself away from you, to straighten his back and drag a deep breath into his aching lungs. He was thankful, not for the first time, that he couldn’t cry. You would only think him irrational if he fell apart so visibly. “How long do you have?”

Your head lulled to the side, your attention drifting to some indistinguishable point on the far wall. “Only the gods can say what fate has—”

“How long?”

“…another year.” Your tone carried a sort of detached acceptance, as if you couldn’t summon the energy to care. “Maybe two. The last caretaker was very fortunate – he survived half a decade in his position.”

He tried to speak, to scream at you for not telling him sooner, but his voice caught in his throat and you reached up, cupping his face in both hands. Slowly, with a dry chuckle, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. The cool porcelain of his skin sapped the warmth from yours, but for once, you didn’t seem to mind his unusual anatomy. “I hope I’ll be able to cure you, before I’m gone.” You were mumbling, now, speaking barely above your breath. “Do you think you’ll be able to stay for a little longer?”

He tried to answer, but you’d fallen asleep on top of him by the time he opened his mouth.

~

He left the next morning, while you were still tucked underneath a small pile of furs and quilts. A letter was penned and sent to the Doctor’s base, a caddy of wildflower seeds purchased from a young girl peddling wares by the side of the road, and he returned to your cabin just as your sleep turned restless. When you rose an hour past noon, he pestered you into taking him to the groove near the shoreline. By the time you returned, chiding him for distracting you from your responsibilities and pointedly ignoring the basket full of fruit at your hip, the sun was low in the sky and masked soldiers had stamped your garden into the ground. Your cabin was in flames and your shrine had been reduced to little more than a pillar of smoke in the distance.

Whatever concern you might’ve held for him was immediately forgotten. Dropping your basket, you moved to run towards the embers of your home, but Scaramouche caught you – one hand on your shoulder, another on your waist. Careful not to break what couldn’t be repaired, he forced you onto your knees, letting you scratch at his wrists as you screamed, the noise anguished and ragged. Masked soldiers gathered in the outskirts of his vision, but he bared his teeth, keeping them at a distance as you thrashed in his steadfast hold. Once he took you somewhere else, somewhere better, you’d be able to calm down.

Once he got you away from your rotting god and your unthankful village, you’d be able to worship something worth your time.

A moment passed, then another. Finally, the Doctor emerged from the crowd, his white coat unmarred by the ash in the air. He regarded you with a grin, then looked to Scaramouche. “This is the filthy toy you’d like to take home?”

It was a foolish question, undeserving of an answer. Scaramouche countered with one of his own. “Can you fix them?”

“Can I save a human being who’s been brought to the brink of death and infected thoroughly with the rot of divine remains?” The Doctor hummed, clicked his tongue. “That depends, little puppet. How much time are you willing to spend on my vivisection table?”

Scaramouche glowered, but he didn’t protest. Rather, he pulled you close – your crying softer, now, your struggling impossibly weak – and held you against his chest as he responded. “Do what you have to. They’ll be staying in my chambers, and you won’t lay a hand on them without my permission, doctor.”

“I do wish you could call me Dottore.” He sighed, shaking his head. His acquiescence was communicated with a dismissive roll of his wrist, a silent order communicated to his lackeys. His soldiers moved to take you up, but he kept you in his arms as he pushed himself back to his feet, letting you cling to and beat against his chest in tandem.

Your voice was hoarse, your shoulders trembling. Tears streamed freely from your eyes, and he allowed himself to wonder how poorly you would take it if he ran his tongue over your cheeks. “You— You monster. Hundreds of people will—"

“You said you wanted to stay with me, right?” His smile wasn’t as soft as yours, as comforting, but he did what he could. You let out another agonized sob, crumbling against him as he let his lips ghost over your forehead, speaking against your skin and above your wordless cries.

“Now, there’ll be nothing in the world capable of taking you away from me.”

[ellalalala]

Listen, I'm not here to dictate how you should interpret Dottore's character, I'm really not; but the one misconception about him that really kills me is the idea that he's a "sadist who experiments on people for fun". Where in the world did people even get that from?

Here's the truth: Dottore experiments on people because he thinks he should. Because, if experimenting on someone will get him the results he desires in his endless pursuit of knowledge, then he will not think twice before going through with the experiment regardless of how cruel it is. Tighnari, while recounting his conversation with Dottore, says, "he never came off as malicious, but an utter lack of compassion permeated throughout our conversation". That's who Dottore is - someone lacking compassion for people, someone who sees himself as greater than the others (whilst also seeking recognition in his homeland, but that's a separate can of worms that I'm not opening today). Dottore won't think twice about how his subjects feel because he does not care; there is no pity nor excitement, only a need for results, answers. So... the next time someone says he's a sadist, just keep this in mind: he's literally not.

[k1ttzly]

Fatui Dating Hc!

Fatui Harbingers in this:

Capitano, Dottore, Columbina, Arlecchino!

Capitano

• For one you probably have to be strong

Enough to defend yourself.

• Depending on if you are in the Fatui or not alot of things change.

•If you were in the Fatui he would always remain professional whenever you two work and wouldn’t treat you much different than other fatui

•if you weren’t in the fatui he would never tell you about his ‘Job’. Wanting to shield you from his co—workers.

•he is very gentle too, at home he usually has a hand on your lower back.

•Soft kisses!!! And a huge cuddler in bed.

•not strong on PDA

Dottore

• Also depends if you work as a fatui or not!

•if you do, you bet he WILL convince not just the Tsaritsa but also the one you work with to let you work under him instead.

• He also isnt big on PDA but will always have you close.

•also quite possessive!

•He will tell you ALL about the fatui and his own work, especially the one he doesnt like.

•He wont hurt you physically but will try to bend you mentally. But not so until you are completely independent on him. Because he is scared he will get even more attached.

• He loves to say his theories about certain things and would adore if you try and understand the human body ect. more.

•Will definitely make you immortal.

Btw You definitely saw him experiment on scaramouche and collei because he would love you to watch him destroy other people because that just shows how much he can truly bend you how he wants but isnt.

Columbina

• woman.

• Even if you are not in the fatui she will bring you with her!

• she does like PDA but more in a caressing and small little kisses way

• She is a bit of a sadist, scaring you for her own enjoyment! She loves to see you tremble.

• Hum along with her and she will smile even brighter.

•loves it when you give your own little ideas even if she wont use them!

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

”Dear Assistant”

synopsis: you take up a job with the fatui, and you didn’t think being a doctors assistant meant being the doctors assistant.

tags: medical malpractice, dub-con, insertion, vulgar, explicit, sadist!Dottore

wrd cnt: 1.4k

a/n: lowkey not feeling like my best writing but i hope yall enjoy

You stood outside the unmarked door, clutching the letter that had brought you to this mysterious location. The Fatui's emblem adorned the top of the page, and the words "Confidential Assistant Position" were typed in bold font. You had applied for the job, hoping to use your skills to make a difference in the world of Teyvat. The pay was generous, and the benefits were unparalleled. But as you raised your hand to knock, a shiver ran down your spine. Something didn't feel right.

The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit corridor that seemed to stretch on forever. A figure in a white coat beckoned you forward, their face obscured by the shadows.

"Welcome. I am Doctor- ah, my apologies. You may call me Dottore. I've been expecting you."

You followed Dottore through the winding corridors, taking in the sights and sounds of the laboratory. Beakers bubbled, and strange machinery hummed in the background. The air was thick with the scent of chemicals and something else... something sweet and metallic.

As you entered the main laboratory, your eyes widened in awe. Rows of workstations stretched out before you, each one cluttered with equipment and strange devices. In the center of the room, a large, metal table dominated the space. Dottore gestured for you to approach.

"This is where the real work happens, my dear assistant. I've been working on a project of great importance, and I require someone with your...unique voluntary willingness."

You felt a flutter in your chest as Dottore's eyes locked onto yours. His gaze was piercing, and you couldn't help but feel like he was seeing right through you.

"What kind of project?" you asked "Ah, well…" Dottore said, his voice low and husky. "I'm working on a project that will change the course of human history. A project that will unlock the secrets of the human mind and grant us unimaginable power."

He gestured to a nearby workstation, where a strange device hummed and whirred. It looked like a cross between a medical scanner and a medieval torture rack.

"This is the Neuro-Resonance Amplifier," Dottore explained. "With this device, we can tap into the deepest desires and fears of the human mind. We can manipulate thoughts, emotions, and actions. We can create an army of mindless drones, loyal only to us."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Dottore's eyes gleamed with excitement. This was getting out of hand, and you weren't sure if you wanted to be a part of it.

"But what about ethics?" you asked, trying to sound calm. "Isn't this a bit... extreme?"

Dottore chuckled, a cold, mirthless sound. "Ethics are for the weak. In this world, it's every man for himself."

He stepped closer, his eyes burning with intensity. "And I think you are too, y/n. I think you have a certain... spark within you. A spark that I can fan into a flame."

You felt a flutter in your chest as Dottore's words sent a shiver down your spine. You weren't sure what he meant, but you had a feeling that you were in over your head.

Suddenly, Dottore's expression changed, and he became all business. "Now, let's get down to work. We have a lot to cover, and I need your full attention."

He gestured to the metal table in the center of the room, and you felt a sense of trepidation. What did he have planned for you?

"Please" Dottore said, his voice dripping with darkness. "Take off your shirt and lay down on the table. We're going to begin your...consultation."

You felt a wave of fear wash over you as you realized that you were trapped with some crazy scientist. But you had to keep this job, somehow.

Hesitantly, you removed your top, and layed your head down slowly on the cushioned end of the table. Dottore had soon started taping small pieces of wire and metal to your arms and torso, two on each side of your temples as well.

“Now, you’re going to help me with the first stages of this, excited?” He joked, taking this whole human experiment thing way too casually.

You lay there, breathing heavily as you don’t know what to expect.

He finished setting a few things up on the computer, and you observed a chart on the projector infront of you; screencasting the computer with a plethora of scattered pieces of what seemed to be data alongside a key.

Without much warning, Dottore pulled you up by your waist, hoisting your body up and standing next to you and holding your face up to look at him.

You haven’t gotten a chance to clearly take a look at him before, but you observed each fragment of his face; his eyes pierced yours in a way that turns them into ice, frozen in place.

“I need you to remain calm, try to keep your limbs the same.” He said, before snapping on a pair of blue gloves and pressing pressure points along your back.

Every harsh breath you’d take at the pressure caused the chart to create a spike in data.

The lower he went, the more data appeared on the chart.

“Hmm… I see.” He mumbled.

He set his clipboard down, and pushed your body down. “Don’t yell too loud now, I’ve been getting far too many noise complaints from the others.”

You felt as if someone struck a strong left hook into your stomach, the worst possibilities reaching your brain.

The room’s lights dimmed, even brooding noises of flickering lights distract you from your thoughts.

You were on your back, chilly scales under your hips and barely clad skin. With a sudden pull, Dottore pulled your trousers off, throwing them away and spreading your legs apart as if you’d signed away your body to him.

“Ack—Fuck-What are you doing!?” You hissed, as you felt his hand grab hold of your face roughly

“This is for the research, sweetheart,” He mumbled, his deep voice coated in mania.

“Doctor- please...” You gasped, feeling him dig for something deep within you, your hand under his grip struggling to free itself.

“I need to be sure, until the data calms down I can’t trust it.” He said, the annoyance laced with concern felt like an aftertought, not fully registered until he panted, “You signed up for this. Now do the part.” He said moreso like a warning.

Apart of you wanted to scream, but another was screaming to find out more. You felt shameful of the heat growing within you, and even more ashamed that he could definitely tell.

“Let’s see what the data shows, shall we?” He said sternly, picking up a rod-like device that seemed to be a good forearms length.

“I-“ You began, finding a it in you to at least say something.

“Shh…” He interrupted, shutting you up.

He dragged your body back up so he could sit behind you, pulling your hair to one side so he could observe what his hands were doing inbetween your legs.

“Doctor please I don’t think this is-Shit, Oh fucking God-!” You moaned, feeling his gloved fingers rip off your panties and insert the device inside you.

“Oh my…you’re so wet it just slid right in. You like this don’t you? Fucking slut.” He’d say, before pushing it in and out of you at a faster pace each swipe, laughing against your ear as the chart turned into a mess; points of data appearing every second.

“Ahh- Doctor-! It hurts….” You yelled, feeling the cold metal fill you up, over and over again as he rammed it inside you from behind, holding your thigh apart with his large hand as he observed the chart furiously.

“Shut up.” He exclaimed, moving his hand to cover your mouth as he kept going.

“Shhh….It’ll feel good soon. Just keep quiet. Such a messy little thing.” He said, letting you lay your head on his shoulder as you melted into him, feeling your pussy tingle with warmth as you felt the knot in your stomach threaten to burst.

And him pinching your hard nipples was just what you needed, feeling small bursts of liquid shoot out of you, splattering over the metal table

Your legs began to shake as everything escaped you, practically soaking the table along with the sleeve of his lab coat.

He felt tears from your eyes soak his hand as it ran down your face, muffled moans and pleas escaping your mouth and into the cavern of his palm.

“Tch- fine”. He said, removing the object out of you and leaving it on the table as he went back to his chair, “Clean this up.”

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[solitary-traveler]

Hi hiii! I'm actually new here, and gosh i love your writing like since day 1 🛐🛐🛐

Would it be alright to request something like angst! Scaramouche where he's in an established relationship with y/n who decides to become immortal/ doll like so they can live for liek, an eternity with Scara? They could seek out Dottore. Their constitution would be more doll-like compared to Scara, with the visible ball joints and the creaking?? sounds when moving.

The thing would be, the reason Scaramouche fell inlove with them is because of their 'humanity'. You may end it however you wish to! ^^

The Price of Eternity

Loving Scaramouche was never easy He was immortal an you were not

Scaramouche x gn!reader

Notes: Hiiii thank you so much @whitesheeponthestreet, both for this and the compliment!! This was actually kinda fun to write! I like this prompt. In any case, here you go. Sorry it took so long 🙏 I kinda feel like my writing downgraded—

Art: shihatsu_0 on X

Warning: Just angst :) with a slight tinge of comfort?

Loving Scaramouche was never easy.

He was immortal, and you were not.

You sway with the grim reaper, and spin with the deities. Favored by the gods, you were gifted a heart that sang the most wonderful melodies—a song Scara cherished, worshipped, and loved.

Your entirety was a manifestation of those identified as "humans". Yet, it disgusts you.

Mortality means a limited lifespan. All beings die eventually, but human life is transient—a fleeting moment, a passing memory.

That frightens you.

You don't want to betray him.

Aware of the past tribulations carved into his being, you wanted to spare him more torment. He acts tough, but he's as fragile as glass—a precious, porcelain doll. He's barely holding on, and you don't want to shatter that.

You don't want to leave him alone.

Vanishing from his side—in any shape, way, or form—would be a betrayal. It's a pit you refuse to fall into.

That's what brought you here, to the presence of the Doctor.

"Are you sure about this decision? You know it would be irreversible," Dottore hums, hovering over you as you're strapped to a stained mattress. He feigns concern, his lips stretched into a wide smile.

"You can still say no if you'd like."

Despite his warning, he's already rummaging through the scattered tools on a nearby desk. His hands shake as he grabs a clipboard, reading a few lines before moving on to the next page. You simply shake your head in response.

"I know. But I want to do this. I have to."

The sinister smile never leaves Dottore's face. He taps the checklist and promptly snatches a syringe. He shakes the blue fluid inside before his gaze returns to you. Even with the mask, you know his eyes are sparkling with sadistic pleasure.

"Buckle up then, sweetheart. I'm not going to go easy on you."

You nod.

Not like it bothers you.

You love him too much to care about your humanity.

Loving you was never easy.

You were mortal, and he was not.

He wasn't indulged by any god, nor pampered by fate. He was merely created, tossed aside, and left to rot.

If only puppets could rot.

But none of that mattered anymore. His decisions and choices were his alone. No deity or destiny could interfere with the world he forged. The path he walked was stained with blood and lies, a passage he sculpted to scrub away every last trace of human emotion.

He wasn't born with a heart, so why bother with feelings?

Unfortunately, you—with your foolish and ardent self—managed to trespass the safe haven he struggled to create.

But that didn't stop him from loving you.

He was fascinated by your humanity.

How could something so delicate and insubstantial coexist with those that have higher utility?

It was all too intriguing. Compelling. Oh, how he loved it.

How he loved the way your chest rose and fell with each breath, your shifting temperatures that somehow warmed and cooled him down. But your heart... Oh, how he loved your heart.

The beating, the rhythm, everything. It was a constant reminder that you were alive. He liked that. He used to believe he solely existed for the sake of being. Yet your heart, the ever-present voice of reason, screamed, "You're alive too!"

After all these years, he finally felt like living.

Love was never easy.

You were now immortal, and so was he.

Yet, he doesn't feel as happy as he should. His chest feels empty. Hollow. As if something is missing—something more than a heart.

He holds you in his arms as you sleep peacefully. He raises his hand, slowly running his fingers over the ball sockets where your joints now connect. He recalls watching you stumble inside your shared apartment, your movements stiff as you clumsily made your way to him. He recalls your overjoyed smile as you hugged him, going on and on about how you now shared the same lifespan as him. Yet all he could think of was how smooth your skin was. Too smooth for his liking.

He thinks back to the sound of your joints creaking and grating with every move you make. It was horrible, the detestable screech irritating his ears. He looks back to that day, where he held your hand and pressed his lips against your forever cold skin. He remembers whispering, "I'd love you, no matter what you are."

But could he truly do so?

Scaramouche's thoughts spiral as he watches you, immobile and serene in his arms. He tries to convince himself that this new you, this immortal you, is what he always wanted. But the reality gnaws at him. Your once warm skin, a constant source of comfort, is now a cold, smooth surface that feels foreign against his touch. The rhythmic beating of your heart, which had been a soothing lullaby to his otherwise restless existence, is now a deafening silence that haunts him.

Every time he sees your stiff movements, hears the grating sounds of your joints, a pang of regret pierces through him. He had agreed to this transformation, thinking it was the solution to keep you by his side forever. But now, he questions whether it was the right choice. Was his love so fragile that it needed this drastic measure to endure?

He wrestles with his emotions, the conflict raging within him. He had always believed that love transcends physical form, that it is an unwavering force. But now, faced with this new reality, he feels the weight of his own hypocrisy. The physical changes have altered the very essence of what made you, you. The warmth, the breath, the heartbeat—gone.

As he looks at you, he feels a deep sense of loss. The vibrant, living being he fell in love with has been replaced by a lifeless replica. He wonders if he has been selfish, if his fear of losing you has led to this hollow existence. The guilt gnaws at him, amplifying his internal turmoil.

He was still going to love you forever.

But it will never be the same.

Loving you before had been like black coffee, strong and invigorating. This was like decaf—lacking the essence that made it real. He mourns the loss of the person you were, even as he clings to the shell that remains.

[daturabouquet]

Love Worth Dying For

[Angst, comfort ish?, SFW, Dottore x reader]

-----------------------

even after dating Dottore for years, you can't help but still believe that every single piece of affection he gives you is all a lie, like a social experiment. He's always a man of knowledge, willing to crush everything that gets in his way. You can't help but keep believing that he'll crush you next, it's in his principles after all.

Even with this belief, you always play along and enjoy his affection, as it is much much better than being dead. Deep down, you feel like everything he does is a social experiment, a lie, an act to fulfill his desire for knowledge, maybe this one is an experiment about "Human Affection".

You can't trust him at all, and his occasional anger outbursts that he unleashes on you doesn't make it any better. You are always ready for him to drop the act, and dispose of you just like his other experiments.

You don't trust him.

But on Dottore's side, you were his first ever love. He didn't know how to show love properly, so he stayed up at night, secretly researching how to show affection.

He knew he was a heartless madman, yet he fell in love with you. He fell for your genuine nature, how you still viewed him as human while others would view him as a demon.

He loved you, he really did. He's never had someone "trust" him, someone who still saw something good in him, someone who cared for his well being, someone like you.

He saw you as special, someone who somehow tolerated his actions. You are such a sweetheart, someone with good intentions, and would never want to harm anyone. How did someone like you, gain a relationship with him?

Dottore never viewed you as an experiment. He tries his best to show what's in his cold heart, he wants to give you affection, to tell you that he loves you too. He adores your trust in him.

But, you don't trust him.

When you finally communicated this, your lover was crushed. Turns out, you are just like all the others; fearful, distrustful, intimidated. He fell for you, just to be slapped in the face by reality. He is a monster, and even though you love the monster, you still can't trust the monster.

He was angry, he was disappointed, he was... devastated.

In a way, it made sense to him. Why would someone like you fully trust him? A murderer, a sadistic maniac, a man with little to no morals.

He couldn't believe it, all the times he held you, you were bracing for impact. All the times he kissed you, you were ready to be hurt.

But worst of all, whenever he decides to open up to you, you listen so lovingly, your smile always decorating your face, and you always manage to whisk all of his concerns away. You still did this while believing you might die the next day by his bloody gloved hands.

but deep down, both of you knew that you loved each other. He'd never hurt you, and you'll continue loving him, even if it's the last thing you do.

It both crushed him and comforted him, when he realized that you were willing to risk your own life everyday, to love him.

[sh1-n0bu]

I am such a simp for Scara Nobu omg. I'm in love with him being AFAB 🥹

Thinking about him cumming completely untouched just from your praise :(( He needs to hear it so badly, he's your good boy and just wants you to say it all the time <33

-👖

♡︎ 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙧 ♡︎

characters: AFAB!sub!scaramouche x nb!dom!reader

warnings: praise, markings, dirty talk, praise, degrading, thigh riding, cumming untouched, virgin scara my beloved<3

notes: currently on my last fucking line of sanity as i think of transmasc scara squeezing the life outta me with his thighs

wanderer, formerly known as balladeer or scaramouche, was not exactly the most gentle of lovers. he’s always on the defensive, ready to protect himself whether it be verbally or physically. years of trauma, torture and manipulation at the hands of the second fatui harbinger - il dottore - doing nothing to soothe his harsh personality and snappy attitude.

he hated everyone and everything. each and every disgusting trace of emotion other than hatred and sadistic glee being frowned upon, slightest bit of gentle touch met with a harsh glare and a smack. yes, he hates everything.

everything and everyone except you.

he doesn’t really remember how it all started, how the swirling emotions of affection in his chest started. perhaps it was when he first met you when you were with the traveler, during his mission of finding out about the truth of the stars and meteors?

maybe during the lantern rite when the two of you stumbled upon each other as he held his bleeding side, denying your kindness of treating his wounds verbally but never doing anything to live up to his words?

he doesn’t remember and frankly he doesn’t care, not when his smaller frame is sitting on your lap, greedily whining as he chases after your lips in a drunken haze.

his own lips was already cherry red, swollen with small hints of blood, giving chase every time you pull away with a low whimper of a plea slipping from his mouth. his white and blue fabricated kimono top already sitting discarded at the edge of your shared bed, shorts halfway taken off, pooling at his ankle as he grinds himself on your thigh with a bright blush.

"hey now, let me breathe for a bit darling" tugging on his short, messy purple locks, guiding him away from yourself you took deep breaths in and out. wanderer whined at that - stupid oxygen. keeping him away from his lover.

taking your other hand in his smaller one, he guided it towards his side where the zipper to his bodysuit is - silently begging you to undress him. understanding his silent, unexpressed words you fulfilled his wishes, fingers grabbing at the zipper of his bodysuit, slowly pulling them down as your lover wiggled on your thighs with a beautiful deep shade of red blooming on his cheeks.

slipping your hand under his tight bodysuit, you felt him jolt at the sudden feeling of your fingers brushing on his sensitive nub. a quiet, poorly muffled whine escaped his throat as his hips bucked when you decided to give an experimental tug to his puffy nipple.

"ooh? so you like having your nipples played? who knew my sweet little kuni was such a whore" tugging down the turtleneck collar of his bodysuit, you bit down on his sensitive spot of jugular between his neck and shoulder, making the puppet in your arms whimper loudly. face burning up in shame, wanderer wanted to deny your words but deep down he knew it was true. especially with his body reacting so deliciously to each and every last one of your touch on him.

"aww you're this wet for me already? just from a simple tug on your nipples dear?" feeling his wetness soaking through his bodysuit and wetting your pants, you couldn't help but coo at his adorable flushed face. pinching and tugging on his sensitive bud, you leaned down to wrap your lips around his other nipple through his bodysuit. at that, wanderer let out a moan, gazing down at you with a completely red face, a hand over his mouth to muffle his noises. archons, this was all so perverted but he would be lying if he said he didn't like it.

"aanh... w-wait [name]~ wait wait wai-!! mmngh!♡︎" squealing as he threw his head back, your sweet lover spasmed. hips bucking on your thighs before a sudden wetness soaked through your pants more. did he just-?

letting go of his sensitive nipple, you looked up to gaze upon wanderer's face burning up in shame with tears welling up in his pretty blue eyes. hiding his face in your shoulders he let out a whine before asking you a question that made you giggle.

"can we do that again...?"

[blitzyn]

unintended effect

dottore x m!reader

request : none

Synopsis: Meeting a new stranger at your shrine didn't go as well as you had expected it to.

cw -> non-con, blood and spit as lube, anal sex, public sex, sadist dottore, kitsune reader, crying, tail pulling, face slapping, non-con drug use, choking, yall get caught but dottore doesnt care lol, brief ear pulling, not proofread

wc -> 3.6k

a/n -> i need him so bad omg. anyways super sorry if its shit. spoilers for the end of the aranara quest!

"It's not often I get new visitors."

Dottore instinctively peered up to face the voice, spotting a figure cloaked within the shadows the night offered. He could faintly see the way they curled atop the statue he stood in front of.

"I'm not visiting." He spoke with unhidden confidence.

"So what brings you here, then?" They questioned. Truth be told, finding the shrine was an accident. Although he read about them, he was far too busy with Scaramouche's ascension to "godhood". But he'd amuse you for a while longer.

“I’m simply taking a stroll,” he answered, placing his hands behind his back.

“It is quite the night for a walk, isn’t it?” He could faintly see something swish within the air. "Our village is well known for its night."

That was strange. He would have thought it would be a tourist hotspot for the sunset or sunrise - not the night. There wasn't anything noteworthy that he could see.

"Not here, of course." He could hear the amusement in your voice when you saw him slightly tilt his head in confusion. "I haven’t done anything praiseworthy yet.”

He quietly watched as you jumped down the statue, finally able to see your features. He was a bit surprised to see that you were not a human and had fox attributes. Your five tails swayed behind you, so he was able to surmise that you were around five-hundred years old. He heard about kitsunes before, though the only one currently well-known was the Head Shrine Maiden: Yae Miko in Inazuma.

He must admit, your species mildly fascinated him for a time, although the interest very quickly died out throughout his time in the Akademiya. Now that one was standing before him, that interest may have been rekindled.

"I am the guardian of the village," you spoke, ever graceful in your movements. Though, he did wonder what exactly what you were guarding against. As far as he knew, his agents informed him of the famed Traveler who adventured with the Aranara and defeated something called the “Marana Avatar '' which was the source of all Withering Zones. The only formidable enemies he saw on his journey here were the Fungi that mindlessly hopped around.

“It’s not the most interesting thing in the world, I admit,” you turned around to collect the offerings gathered within the foot of the shrine. “Not much to protect.”

You quietly laughed to yourself. “My mother would have my head if she ever heard me say that.”

“How so?” he questioned, watching as you organized a few things.

“She passed away during the Cataclysm. This village was her pride and found joy in defending it. I was but a kit at the time, so she was mostly on her own while she fought.” You sighed, though you didn’t appear the least bit upset.

It wasn’t a very thrilling tale, but he was able to surmise that you thought so, too.

“Do you enjoy guarding the village against rogue mushrooms?” The way he spoke almost made it seem as if he were genuinely asking, but the small, condescending smile that adorned his face told you that he was teasing your profession.

You laughed. “Oh, Gods’ no. I would very much rather be somewhere else right now.”

“Then why haven’t you left? I don’t see any benefits in staying,” he said. “I’m confident your villagers will be able to defend themselves if the Fungi wander around.”

“The only thing keeping me anchored here are the children that offer me some of their candy every so often,” you explained, motioning to the small basket in your hands. “They look up to me.”

“They want to become avid Fungi hunters when they’re older?” He was beginning to enjoy speaking with you, even if there wasn’t much to talk about. Maybe it’s natural Kitsune charm? 

You barked out yet another laugh. “I don’t see why, either. But, hey, free candy.”

Dottore uncovered an opportunity in your words. Various reports submitted to him reveal that children were far more likely to see the Aranara if they stumbled upon a dangerous situation. To ordinary humans, the Fungi posed a threat even to adults (as pathetic as that was), so if he managed to persuade you into leaving, one of the children could maybe encounter one of the fairies. But he was not opposed to taking you away by force, either. He would not let this chance slip by him - not after the majority of his agents stationed in Sumeru failed their mission.

“But other than that, what’s really stopping you?” Pride? A sense of responsibility? “It seems you’re not needed here.”

“Harsh.” You knew he was just saying it as it was. “Realistically? Mora. Ideally? The children.”

He hummed. “I am capable of providing you with sufficient housing and a generous amount of money.”

Your ears visibly perked up at his proposal. “But I do ask that you work for me in return.”

You looked off to the side, seemingly in thought before you looked back at him. “I’m no mercenary.”

“Maybe not, but don’t you crave a change of pace? To finally bask in what the rest of the world has to offer?” You were seriously tempted to accept his suggestion, but the chains of doubt wrapped around your wrists and pulled you back down to reality. You didn’t know if he was lying or not. While you were able to defend yourself just fine if anything were to go wrong, you preferred the safer option of just not letting it happen.

You shook your head in response. “That would be amazing, but I’ll have to decline your offer.”

He was confused. You complain, but you decide to stay? Where was the logic behind your words? Were you tied down by your mother’s legacy, perhaps? Maybe there was something else besides the weak reasons you so confidently spoke of.

A chill ran down your spine as he studied you. You were unable to see the majority of his face with his mask covering the top half of it, but it doesn’t take a genius to tell that he was unhappy with your answer.

While he wasn’t satisfied, he wasn’t left at a loss, either.

“Very well, then,” he said after a time. You smiled at his understanding, before turning on your heels to begin your trek towards the village. He watched your back for a moment before he felt his fingers slightly twitch. He managed to come up with a plan as soon as you declined; inject you with a type of drug that would make you pass out and tie you up in one of his laboratories. Simple, but effective.

He walked in your direction as his hand reached into one of his pockets to grab a syringe already full of the drug. He discreetly uncapped it before lunging towards you to tug your head forward and force the needle into the back of your neck. It was done before you could be given time to really process what just happened, but the sharp sting kept you grounded. You looked back in surprise and pressed onto the injection site in reflex while backing away from the man.

“What did you do?” Your voice was weak in shock, a pit of fear beginning to form within your chest. You heard the rustling of his clothes steadily grow louder, but you simply chalked it up as him on his way back to wherever he came from. He amusedly observed your ears flattening alongside the back of your head and how two of your tails wrapped around your legs while the others curled in a way that reminded him of a fearfully submissive dog.

“I gave you a dose of a simple knock-out drug,” he explained, leisurely striding closer to you. “It was originally for one of those forest fairies, if I ever got the chance to find one. They’re quite difficult to come across so I do hope using it on you is worth my time.”

He hummed and looked away in thought. He had heard they were relatively easy to befriend as long as you helped them out a little, so he hoped one didn’t show up right at this moment. Once he transported you to a well-hidden spot, he could create another drug and use it on a fairy. But he was slightly taken aback when he realized that you were still standing. It should’ve affected you by now.

It clearly had some type of effect on you, judging by the flushed look on your face. You were panting and your legs were trembling, it was a fight in and of itself just trying to keep yourself from falling over. There was a raging inferno within your body, and you felt like you were overheating. An arousing sensation arose in your abdomen. You quickly realized that this was no knock-out drug. At least not to you.

Dottore curiously moved so that he was face-to-face with you. He looked at the syringe in his hand to reconfirm the content that was once in it. He knew there was nothing wrong with it (after all, what use would having an aphrodisiac be?), so it was interesting to see the difference compared to his expected result and the current outcome. Your hands futilely tried to tug down your shirt now that he could see everything clearly since he was so close up, but you accidentally pressed them onto your aching cock, forcing a moan from your lips.

“Hm. This wasn’t what I expected.” He placed a hand on his chin as he began to circle you, inspecting your body. You were the one with the features of a predator, although you certainly felt like prey under his watchful gaze. You continued to display fear, as shown by your ears and tucked tails even though you so desperately tried to hide the lust that effortlessly overpowered your senses. He enjoyed seeing you this way.

He suddenly kicked your knees out from under you, forcing you to kneel as a pained expression briefly overcame your face. You had to hold back a groan when his hand found its way into your hair, fingers tightly curling around the strands to tug you around. He made you look up at him as he dug the sole of his foot onto your sensitive dick. You choked on a moan and ground your nails into his leg, weakly trying to pull him off of you.

“Aren’t you a pathetic little thing?” He pushed his foot harder, relishing in the noises you tried hard to keep from releasing. Shame squeezed your chest, making it difficult to breathe. But your mind was caught in a messy haze of arousal, confusion, anger, and fear. Each of their components only coerced you further into a stupified state, and you soon took the appearance of a babbling slut. You were fleetingly aware of the mortification when you began rutting your hips into the hard surface of his boot – just like the mutt in heat you were – but you’d be lying greatly if you said it didn’t feel relieving.

Your desperation only served to arouse Dottore as he felt his cock harden in his pants. He smiled, memorizing how quickly you were reduced into nothing but teary-eyed and stupid. Lightly palming himself, he thought of all the time he had left to spare. He might as well use some of it now.

You stifled a sob when he removed his foot, grunting when he kicked you onto your back. You were a bit disoriented due to the sudden change in positions, but as the fresh air of the night caressed the burning skin of your legs, an alarm rang through your head. It took you a moment to realize what he was about to do. Out of reflex, you attempted to sit up to try and stop him before he harshly pushed you back down from your chest.

“Fighting it will only make it worse,” he said, lining his cockhead against your asshole after spitting on it. “Relax, will you?”

“Wha–No…No..!”

You raised one of your feet in a last ditch effort to kick him away, but he simply held onto the underside of your knee and hiked it up on his shoulder. You squirmed futilely as he did the same to the other one, keeping you in place with a mating press. Now that he was finally towering over you, he used most of his body weight to force his cock deep into your hole.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the pure agony that came with it. With his hands occupied with pinning your arms down, he had the audacity to place his lips over yours to silence your scream. You struggled to free yourself from his grasp, though the tense of your body made you tighten around him. He let out a satisfied, shuddering sigh.

It felt like he tore you apart, a burning sensation that originated from your hole reverberated throughout your body, pulsing in rhythmic waves. You hiccuped pathetically as he pulled off of you, taking away some of the strain in your legs. He noticed that the slide out was smoother than he expected, peering down to where the two of you connected. His cock throbbed fervently when he noticed that it was coated in your blood.

You bit your lip hard when he leisurely thrusted back into you. Tears rolled off of the sides of your face as you turned away from him.

A sensation akin to electricity traveled up and down his spine. “Oh, don’t cry yet. We’ve only just begun.”

He finally began his pace, irritating whatever he tore, and using you however he liked. The pain was dizzying. He refused to allow you a moment of respite as he wallowed within your agonized whimpers and grunts, thrusting hard enough to fuck the air out of your lungs. Your lower half was on fire from the tearing, the muscle strain, and the sting when his pelvis slammed against your ass. You didn’t know if you were going to be able to walk after this.

You were terrified to feel the familiar feeling of lust pooling in your gut, mixing in with the burn in your asshole. Though the drug was still hard at work, amplifying your arousal far more than you would’ve liked. Your cock weeped precum, to which Dottore gathered on his fingertips after releasing one of your numb arms.

“Look at how much you want this.” His hand was shaky on account of his relentless thrusts, but despite that, you were given a clear view of your shame. “Perhaps you were made to be my whore instead, hm?”

He groaned. “Instead of staying here for something so… ngh – insignificant. You’ll be much better off as my cum-dumpster ready to serve me at a minute’s notice. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

You shook your head, sobbing slurred ‘no’s’ and pleading for something, anything, just not that. He almost couldn’t believe how intensely he’s getting off to such a sight, and he decided, at that moment, that you were going to be his new pet. His good little dog.

He suddenly leaned backwards a bit, avoiding the sloppy attack you made.

Though, he was going to have to train you first.

You were aiming for his neck, so it’s only fair he gets to return the favor, right?

Your eyes widened when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, holding you so tightly your head began to ring almost instantly. You felt like you were going to pass out. You could feel your eyes roll back under your eyelids as drool escaped the corners of your mouth. Everything began to sound muffled when you were suddenly forced back into reality.

Agony shot through your face as your head was abruptly tossed to the side. He had slapped you. Fresh tears cascaded down your cheeks, trying hard to process everything that you were feeling. Pain, pleasure, pain, pleasure… which was it?

You unknowingly shivered when Dottore pulled out of you, but you knew better than to assume he was finished with you. He flipped you onto your stomach, a small smirk present when you didn’t put up a fight. You were far too disoriented to do so. A wince crossed your face when the cold concrete floor touched your cock, although you made no move to adjust yourself.

He placed you on your hands and knees, manipulating your body so easily you could’ve been mistaken for a fuck doll. He pushed the tip of his dick inside your throbbing hole before separating your tails in half, taking three in one hand and two in the other. Your fur may have been thick, but it was nothing a (very) tight squeeze couldn’t handle. Once he found his grip, he yanked you backward as he thrusted forward, a loud slap echoing throughout the forest. The tip of his cock pressed against your prostate, and you couldn’t help but let out your loudest moan of the night.

His pace was as punishing as before, fucking you hard enough to make your ass burn. You tried your hardest to quiet your moans with a bite of your lip and a cover of your hand, but not even that was enough to silence your noises. The ache in your tails prompted you to fuck yourself back on his cock. He let out a small grin, though he decided against commenting on it when he noticed something moving in his peripheral.

It was only a moment later when your ears shot up and swiveled in the figure’s direction, eyes widening when you saw who it was. “G-Go… ah – go home..!”

“Oh, don’t make them leave now, they’ve only just arrived.” You barely registered the firm hand on your thigh. “Let’s give them a show.”

Your back was suddenly pressed up against his chest as the thigh he was holding was held up high enough for the person to see. The new angle allowed him to target your prostate with more accuracy, fanning the uncontrollable flame in your abdomen. You shook your head – to Dottore or the person, not even you were sure of. You weakly held onto his wrist when he reached around your body to jerk you off, digging your nails into his glove.

You tried your hardest to stop yourself from orgasming, you really did, but it persisted twice as intense until you were no longer able to hold it. Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as cum spurt out of your cock, back arching against him. You could’ve sworn you blacked out for a second. You tightened even further around him as he finally stilled, feeling uncomfortably warm as he came inside you with a deep groan. He held your thigh so tightly you were sure you’d have bruises.

You looked back over to the spot the person was at, but was relieved to know that they no longer stood there. The leg keeping you up burned in exhaustion from holding nearly all of your weight. You trembled due to your overwhelming emotions; shame, arousal, fear, anger, confusion, exhaustion.

You stared ahead, unmoving as he pulled out of you. You rested on your folded legs, head throbbing painfully. You winced when he yanked you to him by your hair, keeping you on your knees as you faced his softening cock.

“Good pets know to clean up their messes,” he said, relaxing his grip on you, but refusing to move his hand elsewhere. You swallowed nervously before reluctantly holding onto the base to place him in your mouth. “Though, bite me, and I’ll do more than just simply tearing out your teeth.”

You nodded. He smiled to himself. Good, he was getting somewhere with you.

An urge to hide away formed in your mind, but you willed it away with the fact that he wasn’t going to let you go. Not unless some miracle saved you. You ran your tongue over his cock, licking away the remnants of his cum and your blood. The salty, metallic taste raised goosebumps all over your body, and you had to stop yourself from throwing up.

Though, just as you got to the head, he suddenly grabbed you by the ears and pulled. You choked and gagged, completely caught off guard. He kept you there, watching amusedly as you drooled and sputtered over his dick. It wasn’t until he could feel your grip on his legs weakening did he allow you to push yourself off of him, coughing hard.

He composed himself while you had your fit, crossing his arms expectantly when you finally caught your breath.

“Hurry and fix your clothes. We’ll head towards the area I’m temporarily staying at where you’ll wait until the ship to Snezhnaya arrives.” You wiped your teary eyes and put the bottom half of your clothes back on. Your legs trembled as you got up, only able to take a few weak steps forward before you fell to your knees.

He sighed and swiftly made his way over to you, grabbing you by the arm to carry you bridle style. Everything hurt now that the entire ordeal was over (at the moment), and you watched with saddened eyes as the statue gradually shrunk the farther away you went. You blinked hard. You didn’t want to fall asleep in his arms, but the feeling was far too strong for you to resist. With a heavy heart, you closed your eyes and let your slumber take you.

cross posted on ao3