Dottore X Reader - Blog Posts

These guys are super simps.... :-}

Wedding Night Sex with Genshin Men

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Childe, Pantalone, Dottore, Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, bridal carry, mating press, gentle sex, mating bites, rough sex, torn clothes, wall sex, cunnilingus

A/N: It was between this and arranged marriage. Might do that one another time.

Kaeya, being the gentleman that he is, carries you in his arms through the door, lavishing your face and neck with lots of kisses. However once you're all alone he cannot hold back any longer. He'd had to walk all the way to the bedroom with a semi-boner, that really needs taking care of, and what better way then to bury it inside your pussy for the rest of the night?

Diluc makes sure that your wedding night, like all others, makes you feel special. He takes his sweet time taking off your wedding dress, kissing your body, making you sigh and moan and arch as he puts his mouth on you and gets to have the thing he's secretly been craving this whole time. Forget the damn cake, all he wanted for dessert was your cunt.

Itto could have been parting it up longer but why would he when he had something, no someone better to spend his time and energy on. His beautiful new bride, who he can't wait to mating press into sweet oblivion. Speaking of mating, tonight is the night he finally gets to bite you, make you his, with his fangs, kisses, hard cock thrusting in and out of that pretty, wet pussy, making you come all over his cock and balls right before he fills you up with his own cum.

Childe had a very hard time not teasing you all night before you got to your bedroom. You looked so damn beautiful he could hardly hold back, but he did, if only because he knew you'd give him the best time of his life once you were alone. He couldn't stop touching you, his hands, his mouth, his knee between your legs, his fingers digging into your dress to take it off in a hurry, his pants barely down his legs before he thrust his cock deep and started pounding away.

Pantalone is very patient with you. His cock is almost tearing through his pants but he can wait until you get undressed. He can wait for you to shyly crawl on top of him, straddle his face and part your pussy folds for his skilled tongue. The man could watch you come again and again just from his mouth alone, but alas you need more then that, he knows it, your pussy knows it. He would never deny you on your wedding night. You can still stay on top of him, besides he rather likes to watch your expression as you lose yourself from his cock.

Dottore can't wait for the bed, he's been holding back long enough, smiling through it all. The wall it is, your legs held up, spread just like your cunt, ready for what ever he's going to give you. He will absolutely make is so you can't walk the next day, or even talk from how sore your voice will be from moaning and repeating his name in pleasure.

Zhongli has been waiting to get his hands all over you since he saw you in your wedding dress. You do loo good in it, heavenly even, too bad it stands between him and you. At least until he tears it to tiny shreds with his fangs and claws, unable to hold back from clamming you as his. He's snarling, growling, his horns and tail on full display as he ruts into your pussyhole again and again, making you yell his name so loud it leaves no doubt to whose bride you are.

"Can you believe this, Dottore?! He cut off my head!"

You laughed as your body bent down to pick up your cackling head. The traveler taking a step back as you did so.

"That was quite rude of them, wasn't it?"

Lifting your head and placing it on your neck, you heard a few clicks and felt a connection snap in place.

"It was, Dottore!"

You skipped over to the doctor with a crazed grin on your face, "can i hurt him now? Or do you still need to run a few tests?"

Dottore waved a hand at you, "don't as you wish."

You soun on your heel to face the traveler, "yay!"

Dottore wasn't worried about you, of course, you were his most prized experiment yet.

trying to love but told i'm too much

dottore x reader

Being in a relationship with the doctor was always so hard. You thought, at one point, that it would be as simple as breathing. And it was... at first.

Too fast it turned into a chore in Dottore's point of view. Loving you, that is.

All too often you would find yourself in the presence of one of his clones. He would try to pass the clone as himself, but you would always be able to tell.

You were being too much. Too clingy. Too doting. Too nagging. Too needy. Words as such as those always seemed to leave the doctor's mouth.

So when he left for Sumeru, you finally had some time to think by yourself.

And when his clones started to disappear, right then and there you decided to leave.

If he would try to find you one day, you weren't sure, but being on your own definitely beats being called too much just because you love him.

An apology gift from me who has been missing for quite a while due to college so have some college zandik brainrot :3

College AU Zandik where:

Tired 25/7, he aims to always get good grades and make sure to ace his classes. He's afraid of failure.

Would take biology as his major but his interests are mostly on the human anatomy. He managed to scare a few students when he was rambling on about how much he would like to bring a cadaver home, cut it open and take out the insides.

Coffee. That's it, just coffee.

Daddy issues. He hates his father with a passion that he would even jump out the window if he sees his own father in the same room as him.

Not much of a fan of sweets but he likes eating cinammon rolls.

Sleeps everywhere. On the chair, in the halls, maybe even in the bathroom, he can sleep while standing up or even sitting down.

If you're dating this man, expect to be his pillow wherever, whenever. If he's holding you and barely even moving from his place, he's asleep.

He doesn't mind tutoring you if you have trouble with other subjects. More time for him to be with you more and enjoy every second of it.

Soft kisses, warm hugs, he prefers to be the big spoon.

A switch. Mostly likes to dominate you but if you can manage, he's all fucked out and begging when he's the bottom. Bonus, he is loud.

Please, praise him. Not only turns him on but it also makes him happy after having to go through lots of hardships in his life.

Ma'am/Sir, if you can tug at a certain part of his hair, he will fold.

Despite being stressed out from school, he would still do his best to spend time with you. Wake you up every morning and even cook you meals.

May or may not have a little scrapbook of all your pictures together from the dates you two went on. He wants to save the important memories so he could cherish them with you.

Pulls you away from his mother who would always be coddling you and even showing you all of Zandik's baby pictures. To which the male would be upset and embarrassed that he has to pick you up and carry you to his room to cuddle.

The Clockwork Creation

The thunder roared, splitting the night in two, as jagged bolts of lightning illuminated the darkened skies above the lonely Snezhnayan lab. You stood outside the towering building, feeling your heart race with anticipation, knowing what lay within. Your hands trembled as you clutched the edges of your cloak tighter, hoping the cold night air would soothe the anxious energy surging through your veins.

It had been weeks—months, even—since you had seen him last. Il Dottore, the brilliant, enigmatic man you once knew, had withdrawn into his secret laboratory, obsessing over his latest experiment. Letters were few, and each one more cryptic than the last. His mind, once so sharp and full of purpose, seemed to unravel further with every success.

The heavy oak doors of the lab creaked open as if sensing your approach. Stepping inside, you were greeted by the harsh smell of chemicals, the scent burning in your nose. The place was darker than you remembered, the air thicker, suffocating.

You had known Dottore for years, working alongside him in pursuit of knowledge, always fascinated by his mind, his ambition. But something had changed in him. The brilliant scientist you admired had begun to twist under the weight of his obsession, pursuing power and discovery without regard for ethics or consequences.

It all started with one question that spiraled into madness: Could life be recreated?

Dottore had once confided in you his dream to conquer the boundaries of mortality, to shape life from death, to bend nature’s laws. What was once a philosophical debate had transformed into something real, something terrifying.

You swallowed hard, your footsteps echoing through the empty halls as you descended deeper into his workshop. Every corner was filled with the remnants of abandoned experiments—half-constructed automata, strange, ticking contraptions made of metal and sinew, and medical devices whose purpose you dared not imagine.

The sound of whirring gears and clanking metal grew louder as you approached the heart of the laboratory. In the center of the dimly lit room stood a towering figure—Dottore.

His back was turned to you, hunched over a large table littered with surgical tools, tubes, and vials of unknown substances. Sparks flew from the apparatus around him, filling the air with the stench of burning metal. He didn’t notice your presence at first, so consumed was he by the work before him.

“Dottore,” you called out softly, your voice barely audible over the hum of machinery.

He stiffened, then slowly turned to face you. The moment his eyes locked with yours, you knew he was no longer the man you once knew. His sharp red gaze gleamed with a feverish intensity, and a twisted smile tugged at his lips. He looked gaunt, hollow, as if sleep and sanity had long since abandoned him.

“You came,” he said, his voice low, smooth, but tinged with something unsettling. “I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

You took a hesitant step forward, your eyes scanning the room. On the table before him lay the culmination of his work—a creation. A body. It was large, humanoid, though something about it was grotesque in its stillness. The flesh, stitched together in patches, was pale and unnatural. Tubes connected to the figure pulsed with dark liquid, and electrodes attached to its temples sparked occasionally as Dottore worked feverishly on some unseen adjustment.

“What… what have you done?” you whispered, your throat dry as you stared at the lifeless form.

Dottore’s grin widened, his hands twitching with manic excitement. “I’ve done it. I’ve surpassed them all—Celestia, the Archons, the very laws of nature itself. I’ve created life!”

Your stomach churned at his words. “This… this isn’t life, Dottore. This is an abomination.”

His expression darkened, the once playful glint in his eyes replaced by something dangerous. “You don’t understand, do you? You never truly understood the potential. This creation—this being—is more than life. It is perfection, designed by me. It will be the first of many, a new race crafted from the brilliance of science and human ingenuity.”

You shook your head, taking a step back as the horror of it all sank in. “You’re playing with things no one should. This… this thing you’ve made—it’s not natural. You can’t just stitch together parts of the dead and call it life.”

Dottore’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you saw a flash of the man he once was. But that moment passed quickly, and the mad scientist was back, his voice dripping with condescension. “Natural? Do you think nature cares for the weak, the fragile? I’ve improved upon it. I’ve made something better. It can’t die, it can’t fail, and it will serve me as no living creature could.”

He moved closer to the table, his hands hovering above the switches and levers of the device connected to the body. The electricity in the room crackled with a strange energy, the tension thick and palpable.

“I invited you here,” Dottore said, his voice softening in an eerie imitation of warmth, “because I wanted you to witness the future. You’ve always understood me, haven’t you? You’ve been by my side for so long. I thought… you might appreciate the genius behind it.”

You stared at him, torn between the loyalty you once felt and the growing horror gnawing at your heart. He had lost himself, his brilliance consumed by ambition and madness.

“This isn’t right,” you whispered, taking another step back. “I can’t… I can’t be part of this.”

Dottore’s smile faltered, the disappointment clear in his eyes. For a brief moment, you saw a flicker of hurt, but it was quickly replaced by the cold, calculating gleam you had come to fear.

“Pity,” he murmured, turning away from you. “I had hoped you would understand. But I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. When my creation awakens, the world will understand. You will understand.”

With a flourish, Dottore pulled the final lever. The room exploded with light and sound as the machinery roared to life. Lightning arced from the coils overhead, striking the body on the table with violent force. The air buzzed with raw energy as the figure convulsed, its limbs jerking in unnatural movements. The smell of burning flesh filled the room.

You watched in silent horror as the body twitched and spasmed, the once-lifeless form beginning to move with purpose. The creature opened its eyes—dull, glassy orbs staring into the void—and let out a low, guttural groan.

Dottore’s laughter echoed through the chamber, a sound of pure, manic joy. “It lives!” he shouted, his voice trembling with triumph. “I’ve done it! I’ve conquered life itself!”

The creature on the table sat up slowly, its movements stiff and jerky, like a puppet being manipulated by unseen strings. It looked around the room with blank, unfocused eyes, its mouth opening and closing as if trying to form words. But it was clear—this was no miracle of life. This was a mockery of it.

You couldn’t take it anymore. “Dottore, stop this!” you cried, your voice breaking. “This is madness!”

He turned to you, his eyes gleaming with a wild fervor. “Madness? This is brilliance! This is what humanity has been striving for all along. To become gods!”

But as the creature rose from the table, its body shaking with each movement, you saw something flicker in its eyes. Fear. Confusion. Pain. It was no god—it was a broken thing, pieced together by a man who had lost sight of what it meant to truly live.

The creature let out a low, mournful wail, its hands trembling as it looked down at its own patchwork body. For a moment, you thought you saw the smallest spark of humanity in its eyes, a brief glimmer of recognition. And then, it turned to Dottore.

The scientist stepped forward, his arms outstretched in a gesture of welcome. “You are my greatest creation,” he said softly, his voice filled with reverence. “You belong to me.”

But the creature’s face twisted into something dark, something primal. With a sudden, violent movement, it lunged at Dottore, knocking him to the ground. The two figures struggled, the sound of ripping flesh and grinding metal filling the air as Dottore’s creation fought against its maker.

You watched in horror, frozen in place as the scene unfolded. The scientist’s screams echoed through the lab, but there was nothing you could do.

In the end, Dottore’s obsession, his need to control life itself, had destroyed him.

As the creature stood over his broken body, it turned to you. For a brief moment, you thought it might attack, but instead, it simply stared. There was something in its eyes now—an understanding, perhaps. A sad, broken understanding of what it was and what it had been made to be.

And then, without a sound, it turned and lumbered out of the lab, disappearing into the cold night.

You stood there, the wind howling outside, your heart heavy with the weight of what had transpired.

Il Dottore, once the brilliant mind you admired, was gone—consumed by his own creation, a monster of his own making.

Clone Craze

Bottom!FTM Dottore (& Clones) x Top!Masc Reader

{Request} | No AFAB Language Used

HALF 1: Threesome (Clones + Reader), Face Sitting, Overstimulation, Reader Has Two Dicks, Double Penetration, Oral, Anal

HALF 2: Double Penetration, Choking, Biting, Creampie

Words: 1,196

──────────────────

"I don't have time for you right now, go bother my clones." Dottore pushes you off of him. He's especially prickly when he's focused on an experiment.

You sigh. "Alright, have fun." You drag a pair of clones to your room.

"Up for some fun?" You smile and sit down on your bed. The two clones nod excitedly.

"Up for some fun?" You smile and sit down on your bed. The two clones nod excitedly.

All of you quickly get naked, your hard lengths making both of his clones drool. Dottore had experimented on you for a while, the results being having two equally long dicks and a higher sex drive. He only regrets the ego boost it gave you, your constant teasing and slut shaming was annoyingly attractive.

You watch them argue and bicker about who gets to take your dicks first, you stop them before it turns into a cat fight.

"Both of you will have your turn." You pull them away from each other, coincidentally leaving one clone closest to your crotch.

Popping open a convenient bottle of lube, the clone pours a generous amount of it on his hand and ass, pushing two fingers inside as he leans down to suck you off. He slobbers over one of your cocks, his free hand jerking off the other one. He fingers open his already well stretched hole diligently, very excited to take you. All of you.

You bring the other clone into a kiss, taking a hand down in between his legs and teasing his aching sex. He whines into your mouth and grabs your wrist, wordlessly telling you to stop teasing him.

You slip two fingers inside him slowly, curling your fingers up at the perfect spot.

Meanwhile, the other Dottore slowly lowers himself onto you. Grinning widely as both of your lengths push into his hole. Just the entrance is almost enough to make him come.

He drips pre cum onto your lower abdomen, whining loudly about how you'll tear him apart.

The other clone hisses at him, jealous that he only gets your fingers because of the other's selfishness. You pick him up by his waist and sit him down on your face. He excitedly grinds down, arching his back and moaning in ecstasy as your mouth gets to work on eating him out.

The clones take their time riding both halves of you, getting their equal amount of getting fucked by both your cocks and your mouth.

One of them passes out after its fourth orgasm but the other is still going, riding your cocks like it'll never get this opportunity again. Which is very likely.

Prime Dottore enters the room, assuming you'd be done by now. He looks at you and his clone with disdain and jealousy, the way your looking at it and holding it pisses him off greatly.

He throws his mask to the floor and stomps over to you two and forces his clone off of you. "Had your fun, huh?"

"You wanted me to do this, Zandik." You smile, pulling him onto the bed and quickly ridding him of his clothes. "How can you be jealous of yourself? Hm?"

"It's- No- I'm not jealous."

"Aren't you? You know you get rewards for honesty." You tower on top of him and stretch him open. "C'mon, don't you want me to stuff you full tonight? Or are you going to keep your pride and get fucked by just my fingers?"

"...Fuck. I was jea- jealous, okay? You're insufferable." He looks to the side, cheeks flushing pink.

"Good boy." You pull your fingers out. "You want both of my cocks don't you? Say it."

"I...I want both."

"Of what?" You smirk, your teasing voice pissing him off.

"Ugh.." Dottore sighs, cheeks burning red in embarrassment. "I want both of your..cocks inside me."

"You're being so good for me today." You brush his hair back and kiss his forehead. Dottore grabs the sides of your arms and pushes you onto your back.

"Next time, you're just going to have to deal without me." Dottore lowers himself down onto you. "I'm the only one you can fuck. Got it?"

You grip his ass. "Got it. You're so cute when you're jealous."

He ignores you and arches his back, moaning when you're fully inside him. Every time you bottom out in him it sends electricity throughout his body, his mind has to take a moment to process it.

When he does, he grips your neck both for balance and to choke you. "Yo- your body is mine—" He moans.

He bounces up and down on your lengths, feeling pure bliss from having them hit the deepest and most pleasurable parts of him.

Dottore always looks so beautiful when he's on top of you, he has no reason to keep up a facade. He just lets himself go and moans freely.

And you always give him a sickeningly loving look that makes him tremble.

"Ho- how many times?" He asks, voice wavering. "How many times did you- co- come in my clo- clones?"

You bring up three fingers.

His body shakes. "You ha- have to- do it to- to me- too-"

You smile in agreement, why would you ever disagree to it?

Dottore gives up on riding you after his first orgasm, letting you flip him onto his back and fucking him until you reach your release.

You always wear condoms during sex because you know Dottore doesn't like the idea of feeling bloated or having to deal with the aftermath very much. He's already taken precautions to ensure he doesn't get pregnant on the off chance the condom fails.

He'll probably regret this later but for now, you're taking full advantage of it.

Dottore pulls you close to him and bites all over your neck, claiming you as his. You do the same, leaving hickeys and bite marks down his neck to just beneath his collarbone.

He tightens around you, more sensitive now, and whimpers as you nibble on his skin.

You usually hold back during sex so you can stay inside longer but you find yourself quickly coming a second time with Dottore following close behind.


Dottore rolls his head back and mutters. "One m- more time~"

You bring him into a deep and sloppy kiss while intensifying your thrusts, making the both of you lightheaded.

You two stay kissing for a while, parting for air but always going back for more. Dottore has his nails dug into your back while yours are in his waist.

The other segments have long gone but all of them can hear the loud noises coming from the room, they roll their eyes knowing they'll be tasked with Dottore's work while he recovers.

"Close–" You groan, gripping his waist harder and burying your head in his neck. Dottore bites his lip, body shivering with excitement.

Your movements stutter and eventually come to a halt as you come inside him, adding to the obscene amount of spend that was already there.

"Are you happy now?" You ask breathlessly.

Dottore nods before drifting off to sleep. You pick him up and carry him to the bathroom, you have no intention of seeing him upset that you didn't clean him up.

harbinger hug!!!!

Could someone be a dear and remind me who it was that wrote a pantalone fanfiction where the reader is Dottore's child? I don't remember whether it was gender neutral or not. Thank you very much in advance.

꒰⚘݄꒱₊ 𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 ! · · · ♡

— pairings: heizou, kazuha, dottore, itto x f!reader

— warnings: hickeys (obviously), heizou is a little shit (affectionate), suggestive content but pretty tame tbh, kazuha is a tits man i said what i said, dottore is a little bit (lotta bit) of a sadist, minor bloodplay (?) in dottore’s part, itto also nicks you but it’s an accident this time. this is not proofread btw EL O ELLLLL

— synopsis: how different genshin men like to mark you up.

— notes: technically a part 2 to what i posted on my old blog (found here!). i hope u guys like this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3. i may or may not have started losing steam around itto’s part so if it seems a little lackluster compared to the others, thats probably why and im sorry &lt;/3 i’ll do him justice one day.

THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG! MINORS DNI, PLEASE AND THANK YOU. &lt;3

✧˚ · . SHIKANOIN HEIZOU. ༉‧₊˚.

→ heizou is a playful lover.

→ he adores marking you up to let the rest of inazuma know just who you belong to.

→ can and will feign ignorance when you go to complain about the MULTIPLE markings blooming along the smooth expanse of your neck and collar.

→ “h-heizou, c’mon, you know it’s hard covering these up…” you murmur, lacing a hand through his soft locks as he grins lopsidedly against your collar. he responds by nipping at your sensitive skin, pulling a yelp from you.

→ as a response, you tug his hair back a little and the little groan he lets out sends heat straight between your legs. he grins even wider at you.

→ oh, heizou knows the effect he has on you. he knows how to play you so expertly, as if he were a pianist playing a masterpiece at a recital.

→ “pretty girl, i don’t want you to cover them up,” he hums, cupping your face with a hand. he strokes his thumb lovingly over your cheek. “all of inazuma should know you’re mine. i can’t have other men looking at you, right?”

→ your face heats up at his possessive words, pressing your face closer to his hand as if it’ll hide your flustered state from him. if anything, it does the opposite. he giggles and presses wet, open-mouthed kisses up your neck before he claims your lips with his.

→ maybe you would indulge him a little bit. maybe you’d try a little less harder on covering up the numerous markings littering your neck.

✧˚ · . KAEDEHARA KAZUHA. ༉‧₊˚.

→ kazuha prefers to leave hickeys in places only you two will ever see.

→ he doesn’t need the world to know the two of you are together. the quiet whisper of affection between lovers is more than enough for him.

→ that, and he thinks that it is much more intimate to have markings only the two of you know of.

→ “zu, that- ah! that tickles!” you gasp as he sucks a mark right by your navel, hands gripping the plush flesh of your hips as he grins up at you.

→ he kisses a trail up to your exposed breasts, trailing his hands up higher as he stares up at you with intense crimson eyes.

→ “would you rather i kiss you up here?” he murmurs, planting his lips on the sensitive skin of your chest. he sucks a mark right above where your bra covers you up from him, feeling your chest rumble as you let out soft noises of pleasure.

→ all the noises you made was like music to his ears, his incentive to keep going. “may i?” he asks, tucking his fingers under the band of your bra. you nod your head, but he waits until you verbally say, “kazuha, please.”

→ with a melodic hum, he unhooks the garment with practiced ease and goes right back to making the song he loves to hear.

✧˚ · . IL DOTTORE. ༉‧₊˚.

→ dottore is precise with how he marks you up.

→ it makes him feral, seeing you lying there below him, submissive and pliant just for him. letting him play with you as he pleases.

→ loves watching hickeys bloom across your skin, teasingly nipping at ones already prominent and sore just to hear you yelp.

→ every twitch, every sound you make, it burns into his brain. how could he ever forget anything about his beautiful little pet? marking you up so nicely for the other fatui to see. after all, they must know you belong to him and him only.

→ most the time, he’s careful with how hard he bites. we wouldn’t want to hurt you too much, now do we?

→ but occasionally, there’s a nagging in the back of his mind, telling him to do it, do it, you just taste so delicious. and on days when you act out, or days where you get on his nerves, whether you’re aware of it or not—he decides a little bit of punishment is in order.

→ so he gives in and bites down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, just hard enough to puncture your tender flesh with his canines, tearing a cry from your throat. his tongue laves over the wound immediately, his senses flooded with the copper tang of your blood. he grins maniacally up at you.

→ “it’s okay,” he soothes you in response to your teary eyes, pressing a kiss over the angered skin. “you know i would never do anything to actually harm you. it feels good now after all, doesn’t it, my pet?”

→ he knows that you’re clenching your thighs together. he knows that you’re a little bit of a masochist—he wouldn’t have it any other way. you were his perfect little darling pet.

✧˚ · . ARATAKI ITTO. ༉‧₊˚.

→ itto is another one of the playful lover types.

→ he’s a little worried he might nip you a little too hard with his teeth, but a little bit of reassurance from you goes a long way.

→ that, and there’s that feral oni urge that nags at him to mark you up so that everyone knows you’re his. of course, he loves it even more if you return the favor, letting you add to the many red markings that already adorn his skin.

→ the gang is never surprised when the two of you emerge from some dark alleyway with matching hickeys at this point.

→ “itto, itto, careful!” you gasp softly as his teeth leave pretty little indentions on the smooth skin of your shoulder, the man in question letting out a little yelp before kissing it quickly (and gently) in apology.

→ “sorry bunny, you just taste so sweet!” he mumbles, kissing your temple. you smile up at him with adoration in your eyes.

→ “s’ok, you know i’ve never minded,” you speak softly, combing a hand through his unruly hair. his chest rumbles with what suspiciously sounds like a purr. you grin widely.

→ with the amount of times he’s accidentally pricked your skin, you’re used to it by now. you would even dare venture to say that maybe it felt good. just a little bit.

→ he hefts you up in his arms suddenly and you let out a squeal of surprise, your legs locking around his waist as his hands cup your ass. you drape your arms over his big shoulders as he grins at you.

→ itto also happened to be an insatiable lover—it must’ve been the oni blood in him. you were in for a long night.

© rinneverse (2022). rbs and interactions are super appreciated !!

What if?

Dottore does your makeup

Like imagine this, what if dottore isn't the stinky toxic smell scientist he is. What if he was the opposite. Since he likes knowledge so much who knows? maybe he got curious and learned how to apply makeup for himself. Different segments of his apply makeup differently, like the youngest would mess up on the eyeliner or not so heavy. While the oldest or the newest segments of his, some of them apply it heavy or more experienced

Now what if he got into a relationship with a person who doesnt have a clue with makeup like.

"So you put blush first?" You asked, with little to no knowledge in makeup.

"No you put Primer first, before that you need to put on Concealer. Not only that you-"and he goes on rambling.

Not only did he help you apply, but he also reccomended good ones that fits you. Like lipstick or concealer colors! If there arent that fit you, he'll make one himself! he isnt called a scientist for nothing.

END OF MY THOUGHTS BYE

I will defend this hc w my life

are you perchance willing to write for dottore nsfw alphabet

Hmm..I will definitely write this after I finish writing part 3 of yandere scara. But you can write me a private message right now, what kind of Dottore would you like to see, gentle and dominant? or do you like the gore more?

˗ˏˋ ꒰ LABORATORY GAMES꒱ ˎˊ˗ Il dottore

Dottore decided to pamper his dear wife right in the laboratory

✧ warnings — NSFW, petting, wife ! assistant ! reader, dottore being loving , detailed description of genitals, no "pussy" "tits" etc.a bit non-canonical dottore (but I tried lol) ✧ minors do not interact. !! ✧ a/n — AAHHHH he's so hot, so elegant, but he scares me..

Dottore, taking you by the hands, escorts you and seats you in his chair. He leans on the armrests and hangs over you, leaning forward to kiss. Again, sweetly, with the desire for your lips, with feeling, relaxed. It seems to you that only he kisses like this - so imbued with the moment, so pleasantly.. You have long been convinced of this, now you only see confirmation.

For convenience, he puts his knee on the edge of the seat, between your legs. You hug him, raising your hands high, touch his shoulders, run your fingers along them and take hold of the edge of his black shoulder straps on his chest, wanting to feel your husband even closer. The chair awkwardly wobbles from side to side because of the hinge in the mount and the wheels on the stand. And it seems that one of you does not like this at all.

The harbinger moves away, stands up straight and, without asking you anything, moves the seat and its back to the table. It comes out somehow even rudely, you grin hysterically, seeing the strangely serious expression on your partner's face even behind his mask. And he is near you again, puts his palm in a black patent leather glove with blue palms on your thin neck, presses his thumb under your chin, lifting your face. The doctor kisses you again, but not for long, goes down and gives attention to your neck, pleasantly touching it with his lips. There are pale scars from his teeth on your shoulders. He still does not spare you. Unbuttons your shirt, doing everything even too quickly. Dottore is incredibly patient, you know, but… Now with you is not the same person with whom you spoke ten minutes ago.

"Maybe you have any bright preferences?" - He asks and with the nose of his beak mask outlines your cheekbone, tickling..

"Uh… I don't know…" - you feel awkward talking about this, that's all.

"Shyness is the enemy of debauchery. Flower." - he whispers in your ear, instantly spreading crowds of goosebumps on your shoulders.

"Don't you want to feel the best of what you can get?" — a soft and usually wet tongue runs along the shell of your reddened ear, it gets hotter..

"Dottore.. I…" - you are gently taken by the jaw and turned away, not letting you finish. He understood perfectly well what exactly of his actions turns you on, it was your whole body that betrayed you. The body-traitor, unconsciously giving an impulse to the fingers that yours squeeze the robe on someone else's shoulders.. The way you tremble and breathe heavily..

The doctor obviously knows well how the body works and reacts, and it is easier to read you than to read the title of a book. Now he is not interested in your curves, he needs a reaction. The essence of your desires, to understand who you are beyond common sense. To get to the truth, to the deepest plan, intentions. His "love" shifts to the collarbones, now open to the man. His butterfly kisses cover your bust, while his palms make their way to the belt. It is stuffy under your wet shirt, feelings are revealed anew when the scientist's fingers touch your back. You arch your chest forward, ribs become clearly visible, while Dottore unfastens your bra.

(And yet, when deeply in love, petting and sex are many times more pleasant than in other situations.)

A slight movement - Your bra is pulled up, your breasts are perfectly visible to your partner, who is trying hard not to examine you in too much detail so as not to embarrass you. Shame, shame after all.

One of your breasts is carefully squeezed in his palm, feeling it in a way that pleases you. Dottore, in order to restrain his sick impulses and not to scare you away, mentally prayed even to the damned Archons.

The blue-haired man kneels in front of you while you were sitting half-dry on the chair, he comfortably sat between your legs and thanks to his height, he leans towards your body on the chair, licks your areola with a tight movement, which causes a recoil between your already wet thighs, closing his lips he slightly sucks your nipple, pressing his finger on the second. You do not hold back a moan while inhaling, the sexual tension grows by the minute.

Next, your stomach is subject to attack, a weak spot for tickling, from which you twitch, trying to hold back involuntary laughter. The scientist takes your legs and puts them on his shoulders, looking into his eyes through his mask. You thought that it was impossible to blush even more than before? Well, it is very possible.

The heat burns your ears and cheeks. Incredible luck! you are wearing a skirt today… Yes, a skirt with gold inserts and patterns, quite detailed, in the style of Teyvat fashion. But today this skirt will be a provocation.

"What do you want to?…"

"To satisfy you," He enthusiastically turns his head and kisses your knee, not at all embarrassed to talk about what is happening.

You did not dare to answer, control is enough only to watch an interesting show under you. Dottore, having gone a little further with his lips along your limb, bites you, again with a hint of rudeness. Your nylon tights are running, what a bastard! They are expensive..! At the same moment you notice a clear and distinct reaction to what is happening on the scientist's trousers, it becomes somehow completely unbearable for you to sit and endure his.. attacks.

You offendedly let your right leg go from his shoulder, not having received its portion of kisses. The Doctor, not distracted from biting you, turns his gaze to the movement, but quickly turns around. You, looking at his groin, then at his mask, touch his erection with the toe of your foot, press lightly, and hear his sharp sigh. He lifts your pelvis and, taking you by the ankle, leans your foot against himself.

"Hmm, don't fool around, naughty girl" Having slightly come to his senses, the Doctor smiles. — "Come to me."

Of course, you lean over, it is clear why - even more kisses. The Harbinger, now with a clear intention, brazenly kisses your lips. His palm slides along the smooth fabric under your skirt, the hem of the skirt is already lifted due to the position. Now your thigh is crumpled by his long fingers, looking for the waistband of the tights. At the same time, Dottore presses his tongue on your lips, forcing you to open your mouth wider. A new vulgar gesture - the teeth are briefly outlined by the tongue, it moves towards yours. It strokes the roof of the mouth… For a second it seems to you that your husband's tongue is too long. Dottore has found the edge of your clothes, using his other hand he pulls them off you.

"You have a long tongue," you note out loud, already vaguely.

"Why do you think I talk so much?" — an object of interest opens up to your gaze… Archons…

Twice as long as average, together with the teeth it looks even slightly creepy, including unnatural. Your eyes widen, your cheeks are smothered with a blush, Dottore smirks and hides his dignity.

"Just genes"

"You never showed it before…" — You are shocked. What will happen now, Tsaritsa, have mercy…!

"Relax your muscles, just remember how it was the first time, haha.." — But still, the man is so calm and gentle, skillfully seasoning it with pepper of rudeness, that you cannot help but melt from excitement - it is impossible.

And Dottore keeps trying to pull your clothes off. Very intrusively. You are sprawled in a chair, led by your beloved, who, thanks to the position you have adopted, is still doing what he wanted. He is still on his knees, on the floor, between the tables, in an open laboratory, where one wrong move and an overturned flask can injure you both, He is going to satisfy you. What a shame, if someone comes in, you will not survive the shame!

His cold to the point of goosebumps hand, still elegantly covered with the fabric of the glove, touches you through your underwear. Strokes your vulva, slowly, viscously, torments, makes you almost fidget. He is handsome, damn elegant and smart, ideally knows anatomy and therefore understands perfectly what to do with you. Something in your lower abdomen is cramping from such thoughts, especially when he so dominantly and playfully pulls you towards him by your tie.

"Are you satisfied?" He whispers into your ear, you catch yourself thinking again that he sees your sensual gap and is pressing on it right now.

"Yes, but… That's not all, right?" — You insert a short, embarrassed answer, hug your lover's shoulders, he changes the position of his fingers on your external genitals - he puts his fingers on your clitoris, knowing the anatomy perfectly well, he instantly feels the organ.

"Hahaha… No, not all, darling" — His velvety and deep laughter reaches your ears, you involuntarily shrink in your chair.

"Wonderful, What an anatomy you have… Archons!" — He has such a tart whisper that butterflies fly in your stomach…

"You will do what I tell you, right?" —After a pause, you barely shake your head in agreement "Wonderful, my dear. Listen to elders, be a good girl,"

He exhales onto your skin, languidly, completely depravedly, — "How long do you think you'll last? Two? Three times?" — You sob pitifully into Dottore's shoulder, his dexterous fingers keep a clear and almost fast pace on your clitoris, and you are sensitive, especially because of trust. It appeared with the advent of experiments - after them He treated you carefully, honestly. He always felt sorry for you, all this is just for science, you help your beloved, you are ready to do anything for him. It's a pity, it seems so only in a fit of bright emotion.

"We will do everything so that you leave here on shaking legs, okay?" — Playfulness and craving in his tone, especially to warm you up. You feel the rush of pleasant sensation characteristic of an imminent orgasm. There was no need to say anything else, the first extravaganza hit you with a terrifying suddenness. Your fingers turned to stone, clutching the Doctor's robe, your breath caught, you barely breathe, receiving your well-deserved portion of all-consuming pleasure. You whine piteously, throwing your head back, listening to Dottore's approving hum.

What kind of reaction is this? Naturally, an orgasm that will overtake you too quickly to resist the feeling even a little. Dottore sees everything perfectly well and therefore, instead of brazenly interrupting your pleasure, he connects his long tongue, invading your warmth, making you literally jump on the chair, Dottore gently held your hips, forcing you to stay in place. After another thrust of his tongue inside you and massaging your clitoris - quickly brought you to the cherished climax.. You fell tiredly on the chair, throwing your head back.

"A successful and precise position of the fingers, foreplay and its continuation - the best mixture for getting an orgasm.. Don't you think so, darling?"

You should catch your breath for a minute, your partner patiently strokes your thighs, allowing this. He kisses somewhere behind the ear, since you are still hugging him. It's so strange, remembering the past, the end overtook you rarely in the company of a partner… Did the advantage of the profession work, or something else?

"Everything is fine?"

"Yeah… For some reason I feel so ashamed," - Ashamed.. It's because Dottore, during your work, said that sex and the caresses that come from it are disgusting. You generally thought that you would never get such a pastime from him, but fate decreed otherwise.

"No need to be ashamed. I am interested in watching you and participating in your satisfaction," - He cooed as straightforwardly and calmly as always.

"You are probably right. Oh, my leg is so cramped," - You smile embarrassedly and sit up straight, bending and unbending the mentioned part of the body.

"My poor girl, was I too hem, harsh with you?"

His charming voice and the same expression on his face.. And for some reason Dottore still doesn't get up from his knees, still sitting between your depravedly spread legs. You notice this and want to quickly cover your legs together, but Dottore's torso gets in the way.. He notices your nervousness, grins and slowly lifts the mask up.

"Is it okay for you to sit on the floor?" - You adjust your skirt, placing it on your knees.

..

"So we haven't finished our.. little experiment.." His smile is ingratiating, even creepy, he slightly tilts his head up, looking at you with a cloudy gaze, now you can clearly see his red eyes under the slightly raised beak-mask.

"In that case, why should I get up?"

@anantaru @hitomisuzuya @lavandulawrites @himasgod @neuvigroove @quimichi @rsventhesecondd @anemoswirlsmyheart @nil4everheartz @kujiba @genshingorlsrevengeance @shyentsfoundherink @lavandulawrites @ashyashylee @theoutcastwrites

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

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

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

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

notes: wooooooo this is the start of the heavy plot and finallyyyyy getting into their relationship 😎 it’s gonna be spiral from here on out.

GENESIS

“Don’t you have better things to do than bother me.” You frowned deeply, eyes squinted as you stared at the figure who had cornered you at the women's washroom. “You go from wanting nothing to do with me, to not even letting me freshen up in peace.”

“Alas, you’ve become my job because of your reckless actions,” Dottore said, unperturbed. “I assure you, I enjoy this no more than you do.” 

“Somehow, I doubt that,” you replied dryly. 

The empty smile that painted Dottore’s lips was now edged with a line of cruelty—he was absolutely enjoying this.

“You should be grateful,” he began, and you had a sudden feeling that you weren’t going to like what he was about to say next, “the attention you so desperately craved is finally being given to you.” 

You stared at him, a turmoil of emotions eating at your insides, the most prominent of which being outrage but you forced your face to remain cold, as if you were simply dealing with one of the nasty noble kids who liked to poke fun at your lack of a soulmate.

“You will find that the attention I ‘so desperately craved’ was received elsewhere,” you responded, watching the corner of his lips tighten at your words. Digging the knife in deeper even though you probably should have left it, you continued with: “I have as much desire for your attention as I do for a bug’s.”

“Elsewhere as in that lowly aristocrat you attended our event with?” he asked, faux-curiosity dripping from his tone but you knew better. His smile promised bloodshed and violence and you were not going to throw Artem to the wolves. 

“Not quite,” you said. “He still lives back in Fontaine, Artem was just a means to an end.”

Sorry, Wrio.

“Is Artem aware of that?” Dottore asked coolly—he didn’t believe you, that was unfortunate. 

You’d somehow have to warn Artem to keep an eye out but you weren’t sure if you would get the chance. Moreso, you didn’t even know if it would matter. You had a feeling that even if you did warn Artem, it would do him no good. He wouldn’t be able to protect himself from the Second Harbinger. 

“Careful, Doctor,” you chided. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous. It’s an unflattering look on you.”

“Jealousy implicates caring,” Dottore didn’t hesitate to counter, lips flat and unamused, “and I do promise you that the only thing I care about is making sure you don’t get in the way of my research. Or have the past two decades of neglect not made that clear enough for you.”

You stared at him, tongue kissing the back of your teeth as you forced back another snide comment—you thought you might be testing his patience a bit too much. The hint of amusement that had crept onto his lips was long gone, replaced by an unnerving emptiness. You hadn’t noticed how close the two of you were standing, your back flush to the wall and his body mere inches from yours, head tilted down as he spoke to you. 

Suddenly, the thin barrier of air between the two of you felt all the more hot. There was no way for you to slip away back to the event where you thought you might be a hint safer with all of the aristocrats’ eyes bearing witness. Worse, you didn’t even know if you wanted him to move away but you knew that you had to make him for the sake of your mission.

A shot in the dark to try to force him to take a step back, you leaned up on your toes, bringing your face closer to his. You couldn’t see his eyes beneath his mask but you imagined that you could, catching a glimmer of red as you moved in close. Your lips brushed his as you said: “I don’t think I am the one unclear about anything right now… are you?”

He stepped away.

You smiled thinly, raising your chin.

“No,” he said icily, “I am not.”

“Of course not,” you said, swiftly moving away but before you could even reach an arm’s length distance, gloved fingers curled around your wrist.

“Where are you going?” Dottore asked, you hated how he suddenly sounded amused because you knew it meant nothing good for you. 

“Back to the event before my date and his family start worrying about my absence,” you said, trying to ignore how the pads of his fingers trailed across your inner wrist—you didn’t even think he noticed the instinctual motion, much less how it was throwing you off.

“I’m afraid they’ll have to continue worrying about your absence,” Dottore drawled, grip on your wrist strong and unwavering.

“And why is that?” you asked through grit teeth.

You didn’t like where this was going, you felt like a cornered animal. 

“Because you will not be returning to the event, the Tsaritsa has so graciously offered you a stay in Zapolyarny Palace,” Dottore said easily as if he had not just handed you a death sentence and ripped away your dreams of avenging your father all in one. “You should be honored, not many are given such an opportunity.”

You stared at him, expression void of the turbulent emotions rushing through you. You didn’t have to be a genius to know what this meant: they were making you a political prisoner. This was a mistake. You should have seen this coming. You thought that the worst that could happen was that they would kill you, you hadn’t even considered that they could use you against your nation, your family. You despised your stepfather but he would not be the one affected by this: your mother, your half-siblings, your grandfather, Wrio and his father, they would be the ones bearing the burden of the consequences of your actions. 

For all of the anger and sadness and hurt you had felt because of your soulmate, you had never hated him until now.

“Are you kidding?” you asked quietly, with at least enough control over your voice for it to not crack as you spoke. You refused to allow yourself to be humiliated because of him.

“Unfortunately, I am entirely serious,” Dottore said but he didn’t sound as if any of this was unfortunate. You thought he might even be pleased if you could catch a glimpse of his eyes beneath his mask. “Don’t look at me like that, you put yourself in this position by coming here. You must’ve known that this was a possibility.”

You didn’t respond, staring at him—speechless for the first time in a long time. 

“Unless you didn’t.” He clicked his tongue as if disappointed in you. “One of my colleagues will be watching over you during your stay here. I urge you to lose your attitude with him, and with the rest, should you encounter them. You’ll find that they are not quite as patient as I am.”

“What?” you demanded, your body suddenly felt cold and your anxiety skyrocketed as if this couldn’t get any worse. “Why not you?” 

“Careful,” he mocked the same tone you took on him earlier. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re desiring my attention again. It’s an unflattering look on you.”

You scoffed. “It has nothing to do with desiring your attention as it does with fearing for my life. There you go with the self-importance again. Why not you?”

“You being here has opened up a weakness that I cannot afford for the others to learn about lest they take advantage of it,” Dottore said dismissively. “I will be limiting any and all contact with you for both of our sakes’.”

“And he won’t take advantage of it?” you pressed, you could feel the panic creeping in. 

Who was he passing you off to? 

Wasn’t it more of a risk to pass you off to someone else than to just keep you at his side?

“Oh, he will,” Dottore answered. “Just not in the same way the others would.”

Somehow, that wasn’t reassuring at all. 

You felt sick to your stomach, you wanted to cry but you refused to let the tears fall. You had never felt so helpless before. You wanted to go home—you were in over your head, flailing in open water trying to find a buoy before the currents dragged you under and the one person in the world that was supposed to be a lifeline for you was standing on a boat watching you drown. 

“I suppose that’s my cue,” an unfamiliar voice spoke, amused. Your gaze turned down the hall, eyes falling upon a dark-haired man dressed in black, gloved fingers intertwined in front of him as he walked closer to the two of you. “She’s quite the little spitfire, isn’t she?” 

Had he been there the whole time? How had you not noticed? Were you that absorbed in your conversation with Dottore that it blinded you to your surroundings? You were usually good at picking up presences—an asset that came along with your family’s passed down hydro art. 

“She will behave for you,” Dottore talked about you as if you weren’t there, but his voice was low in warning and you knew that was directed toward you. 

The man hummed, as if not entirely pleased with that statement before he focused his attention on you, eyes upturned and an unfriendly smile painted on his face. “The Regrator, Ninth of the Fatui Harbingers. I will be supervising you during your stay here. I do hope you prove yourself to be useful.”

The final statement sounded more like a threat than an off-handed comment.

An anchor attached itself to your ankle, dragging you down. 

Your soulmate watched as you sank in murky waters.

For some reason, Dottore just couldn’t seem to get his head on straight. 

As he made his way down to the small lab he had set up in Zapolyanry Palace, all he could think about was the expression on your face as he handed you off to Pantalone. You looked at him as if he had just physically signed your death sentence—you clearly weren’t stupid, you had to know that Dottore wouldn’t do anything that he thought would put your life at risk, so he wasn’t understanding why you had looked at him like that and he didn’t like it. 

He tried to focus on getting back down to the lab—Theta was down there and Dottore was sure that the segment made a mess of the experiment he had been running  but he couldn’t even muster any irritation, much less anger. He could only manage a vague sense of bewilderment as he made his way down the dark halls of the palace. 

You couldn’t have been that angry that he wasn’t going to be the one looking over you. You didn’t even want anything to do with him anyway, you made that very clear. It was the best course of action for the two of you—the easiest way to make sure that the bond didn’t affect either of you more than it already had. Once he figured out what you meant by ‘the Hydro Archon isn’t the only god blind to threats’, he’d get you whatever evidence you needed and send you on your way back down to Fontaine. 

And then he’d never have to see you again and the two of you could go on with your lives as if this never happened. 

The thought of that left him unsatisfied and again, the bewilderment that was fogging his head grew. Why did that leave him unsatisfied? It was what he wanted. He didn’t want you around dragging him down and distracting him. The Fatui was going into the most critical few years of its existence, he needed to be able to put all of his attention on his research so then why…

“I don’t think I am the one unclear about anything right now… are you?”

Dottore exhaled as your words crossed through his head again, as his lips tingled at the reminder of the feeling of yours brushing his. He knew you had done it to get him to back up, he had known what you were doing as you did it and yet, it had still caught him off guard and he wasn’t used to being caught off guard. 

Was he the one unclear? Dottore didn’t think so—in fact, he thought he was perfectly clear with his expectations and needs, or lack thereof, that is. But the more he thought back to your words, your expression when you left with Pantalone, the feeling of you close to him, the more he hesitated and hesitation simply was not acceptable. 

Getting to the bottom of the steps to the lowest floor of the palace, Dottore’s eyes narrowed beneath his mask as a burning smell hit his nose coming from the direction of the metal door of his lab. 

Theta, Dottore thought, livid. 

All thoughts of you swept away as he stalked the rest of the way down the hall, strides long and purposeful before he threw open the door and slammed it shut behind him. The Theta segment’s head snapped up, eyes wide like a caught deer. In his hands was one of the vials that Dottore had been studying for residue energy of the old gods, the vial burned and blackened at the bottom, creeping up to the top—a putrid scent of rot and fire filling the room. 

“What did you do?” Dottore demanded.

Theta put the vial down, backing up a few steps. “It was burning when I got here,” was all he said in response. “You must’ve left it on.”

“Liar,” Dottore spat out, temper already having thinned from you having worn it down during both conversations he had with you and on top of that, his own confusion about you. He hated feeling as if he didn’t have complete autonomy over himself and your arrival in Snehznaya had absolutely destroyed any sense of control he might’ve had, questioning everything he thought he knew as true. 

Reaching forward, he snatched the vial from Theta’s hands, it burned the pads of his fingers but he didn’t let it bother him, peeking inside to see if there was anything to salvage only to find all of the remains he had gotten his hands on lost.

Dottore shut his eyes, taking a deep breath in as he tried to calm himself down, convincing himself that deactivating Theta would do more harm than help. He didn’t have the materials to make a new segment and he needed all hands on deck for the upcoming project, including hands as disastrous as Theta’s. 

“I specifically told you not to touch anything,” Dottore said tightly, tossing the ruined vial into the waste bin before directing a cold gaze onto Theta. 

Theta didn’t respond, staring at Dottore in a way akin to how a lesser predator would in front of a greater one—trying to decide whether or not it should fight back or flee. After a few moments of tension, Theta ultimately made his decision, raising his chin. “What happened upstairs?” 

Dottore raised his eyebrows beneath his mask. “Excuse me?” he asked, devoid of emotion as his mind raced.

Could they feel that he had met you? 

That would spell more trouble than Dottore was willing to deal with. What awful timing, he thought bitterly. Of course, you show up during the few weeks he had all of the segments returning to the north for briefings before the Fatui finally began to set out on achieving their ultimate goal: obtaining the gnoses and bringing down Celestia. 

Epsilon and the younger segments had already been in the north—they were still at the estate a few miles west of the palace. Delta had dropped off the Iota segment the other day so he could join Rho in tracking down the rogue belligerent in the east but they were making their way back to the estate, albeit slowly. Zeta should’ve arrived at the estate at some point tonight and Lambda would be arriving any day now. 

Dottore suddenly had a headache, trying to figure out what to do. He did not feel comfortable enough to leave you at Zapolyarny Palace alone with Pantalone but if he stayed, the segments would get suspicious and start showing up to snoop around, and if he told one of them that you were here to send them to watch over you, he knew damn well that the rest would know in a matter of hours. He’d either be facing a noose or a sword—either way, his ultimate fate would remain the same: the segments would know. 

“What happened up there?” Theta asked again, more intensely this time. “We could all feel it. It was strange. I don’t know how to describe it. What was it?”

Briefly, Dottore reconsidered deactivation as he stared at the younger version of himself, who was getting more and more impatient as each second without a response passed. He could see the way his fingers were twitching and the way he was shifting on his face, it was only a matter of time before he started getting more aggressive. He thought maybe he should let it get that far, that way he can just kick Theta out of the lab and go back to working—or more importantly, go back to figuring out what he was supposed to do about you. 

“What was it?” Theta demanded and then Dottore watched his eyes widen through the holes of his mask. “Was it h-”

He never got the chance to finish the question. The doors to his lab slammed open and Dottore had never been so grateful before to see Epsilon… until he noticed the panicked expression on his face and the way the Gamma segment was half-hiding behind him, hands shaking and lips pressed together tight. He wouldn’t even look Dottore’s way, gaze directed on the floor between them. 

“You’re supposed to be back at the estate,” Dottore said firmly, a foreboding feeling weighing on his chest as he stared at the Epsilon segment. 

“The Iota segment never came back from exploring the estate grounds,” Epsilon said, voice steady. Behind him, Gamma took in a shaky breath, turning away. “Kappa slipped away while we were trying to find you.”

“You’re much quieter now,” Pantalone noted as he led you deeper into the palace, down dark, twisting and winding halls that you desperately tried to keep track of but it was like a damn maze. You thought you might never be able to navigate them on your own. “You had quite the mouth with the Doctor. I’ve never seen someone speak so scathingly with him and live to tell the tale.”

You didn’t acknowledge his comment, eyes tracing the portraits hung up along the walls—lined with gilded garnishes and decorated with a soft glow emanating from the moon outside. You wondered if it was by chance that the shadows cast over the portraits seemed to highlight some of the paintings' more distinct details or if it was a specific design choice. 

You remembered Pantalone mentioning that this was his wing of the palace and somehow you doubted that anything this man did was by chance, even something as meager as making sure paintings were positioned appropriately for the best aesthetic. You let out a breath, looking back out toward the window—toward freedom. It was dark out now and clouds were rolling in swiftly over the moon, smothering the little natural light, a storm was coming, metaphorically and literally. 

Even if you did get the chance to escape, which you doubted would even arise to begin with, all you would be doing is walking to your death. You’d freeze in the winter storms of Snezhnaya, you doubt you’d even make it to the line of trees half of a mile away from the palace. 

Dully, you wondered if that would be a better fate than this. 

“Oh?” Pantalone continued when you didn’t respond to him. “Is your cruelty reserved only for him? What a shame, I wanted a taste of that sharp tongue of yours.”

You bit back a scoff, staring straight ahead as you continued forward, ignoring the way his violet eyes laid heavily on you, waiting to see how you responded to each of his digs. He was testing you. For what? You didn’t know and you didn’t like that. You were having trouble reading the Regrator and reading people was one of the few things you could actually pride yourself on. 

You spent more than a decade of your life sitting in the back of the courtroom, watching proceedings and watching people because you figured that the better you were able to read people’s emotions and predict their answers and response, the better able you would be to hide your soulmate from those that liked to pry. 

Pantalone was an anomaly. Draped in the finest of Liyuean silks and donning the most expensive gems from the northernmost mines of Snezhnaya, a Harbinger and one of the wealthiest men in Teyvat, you expected that the man was well-respected, especially in his own nation… but you had seen the way that the Snezhnayan aristocrats looked at him. 

Where they looked at the other Harbingers with anxiety and fear, they looked at the Regrator with nothing less than derision, whispering to each other and ridiculing him behind his back. You had meant to ask Artem why that was the case but you had never gotten the chance because someone decided to interrupt the two of you.

So why? Why do they look at a man who had made Snezhnaya prosper with such mockery? The nation had been fumbling before his promotion—a powerful military, yes, but a powerful military meant little politically when they were in constant economic recession. They had gone from being the poorest nation in Teyvat to the second wealthiest, just below Liyue itself; they had gone from having no international political sway to having several nations in the palm of their hand. 

So why?

Your mind raced, finally looking at Pantalone from the corner of your eye. He held his chin high as he walked but there was a stiffness in his shoulders that didn’t match the otherwise lackadaisical confidence. His skin was borderline gaunt—you barely noticed it, it was clearly getting healthier but there was still an underlying haggard look that seemed inherent now, as if he had suffered years of sickness or starvation and no matter how hard he tried to rectify it, the damage had already been done. 

Aristocrats were a very predictable bunch. They found commonality with those that were similar to them and they found joy in deriding those that tried to be similar to them. You had seen it many times in the Fontaine courts, particularly when the nouveau riche families tried to find places with the old-blooded aristocrats. They could sniff who was their own and who was not like wolves sniffing out their prey.

The Regrator was not a born aristocrat. 

“I can see the gears turning,” Pantalone murmured. “Tell me, what conclusion have you come to, little spitfire?”

You looked at him, studying him for a moment before saying: “You weren’t born an aristocrat.”

Pantalone smiled, as if whatever answer he had been looking for was answered. “You lot really can pick out a needle in a haystack.”

You hummed, “It’s not hard when the needle is bright red when the rest are silver.”

Pantalone raised his eyebrows, curious, “It’s that obvious?”

“If you’re looking for it,” you explained. “Aristocrats are always looking for it.”

“I was an orphan,” Pantalone said, leading you further down the halls. You had given up on trying to keep track of the twists and turns. “I lived on the streets for two decades.”

“And yet here you are,” you responded. 

The richest man on the continent, a Harbinger, the reason for an entire nation’s economic boom.

“And yet here I am,” he agreed. “Unfortunately, it’s not enough for some people, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” 

“Yes,” you said dryly, “and I’m sure you’ll make them eat their words eventually.”

Pantalone let out a huff of laughter, drawing to a stop outside of a dark door. You came to a stop next to him, eyes meeting his as he watched you carefully. 

“Naturally,” he acknowledged but now there was a darker edge to his voice, a vein of poison seeping into his tone. “You will be staying here, I will be right across the hall. If you need anything, just knock.”

If you try anything, I’ll be there to stop you, you translated silently, catching the cold look in his eyes even as he smiled thinly at you. You gave him a smile that was just as void of kindness, pushing open the door to step into the room you would be staying in.

Vast and well-decorated, your eyes traced the span of the room from the large bed against the wall to the dressers that you wouldn’t be able to fill because the little clothes you brought to Snezhnaya were back at the inn that you had been staying at. There was a fireplace on the wall opposite of the bed and wide windows that rattled against the winds of the incoming storm. 

“I’ll be sure to send some of my subordinates out to fetch you some more outfits,” Pantalone offered but his offer was not made from generosity. The heartless, underlying meaning of his words struck deep: you are not leaving any time soon. “I believe we’re going to get along very well with each other.”

“You… were supposed to be watching the younger segments, Epsilon,” Dottore said, now sitting at his lab table as he tried to keep himself calm, voice tight and teeth grinding. 

Every time he thought things couldn’t get worse, somehow they did. It was almost comical at this point how blatantly the Celestial gods seemed to have it out for him, using his life and misery as some twisted game of entertainment for them to watch.

“I’d like to see you try to handle all three of the younger segments at once,” Epsilon responded, voice somehow calm and snide at the same time. “… I nearly forgot, you couldn’t even handle one young segment, could you?”

Dottore’s gaze snapped toward Epsilon, rising to his feet in an instant. “What did you just say?” he asked lowly—he had dealt with enough insolence the past few years from his segments, and with you here now too, there was only so much left he could handle before he snapped.

Epsilon smiled casually. “My apologies,” he said, faux-remorse dripping from his tone. “I forgot the Beta segment is still a sore subject for you. I wasn’t thinking. Forgive me.”

Except the Epsilon segment did not forget anything and he, more than any other segment, always thought before he spoke. Every word he spoke was carefully chosen and articulated, each one with a meaning of its own that sometimes even Dottore couldn’t follow along with. 

He thought when making the Epsilon segment that he would be the easiest segment to deal with—empathetic and sentimental. But somehow, he became the most manipulative and cruel of all of the older segments, giving kind smiles all the while speaking words that ripped into each individual segments’ insecurities. 

He and the Delta segment in particular tended to be at odds the most. Delta was one of the easiest segments to set off and for some reason, Epsilon rose to Theta’s defense frequently—be it solely for the reason of getting under Delta’s skin or him actually sympathizing with the destructive and volatile segment, Dottore didn’t know or care. What he cared about was the fact that it led to him and Delta clashing nearly every time they were in the same room as each other; Delta getting loud and violent while Epsilon just stood there with amused smiles and quiet, antagonizing comments. 

The next week would be exhausting with the three of them all in the estate together. And now with you—he cut off his thoughts abruptly, only getting more irritated. You just had to make everything more complicated. He had to focus on finding the younger segments before he allowed his mind to inevitably drift back off to you.

“Where was he last seen?” Dottore asked, the pads of his fingers pressing hard into the metal of his lab table as he awaited a response from the segment.

“He was searching the ruins to the east of the estate,” Epsilon said. “He’s been there and back tons of times, I figured he would be okay on his own while I finished up what you asked of me.”

“You figured wrong,” Dottore said immediately, voice curt and icy. “He couldn’t have gotten too far. He gets distracted easily. He has to be somewhere between the palace and the estate. I can track a general location.”

“I’ll come with you,” Epsilon offered. “We’ll cover ground faster together.”

Dottore stared at him for a moment, studying him irritably. He hadn’t forgotten the snide comment the segment had shot his way—he wondered if this was his attempt at an actual apology or if he had some ulterior motives.

He nearly scoffed, knowing the answer instantly: Epsilon always had ulterior motives.

“Theta,” Dottore said coldly, gaze cutting to the side toward the other segment. Theta went stiff at the acknowledgment, waiting for him to continue. “You are to find Kappa. This is your chance to prove you are more useful active than destroyed. Do not fail.”

Theta’s lips pressed together tight, twitching as if he wanted to say something but decided against it. He nodded shortly after a moment and then looked away.

“What about me?” Gamma asked suddenly. “What do you want me to do?”

Dottore stared at him a moment. He would do more harm than help with him and Epsilon out looking for Iota—the last thing he needed was having to worry about another one of the younger segments getting lost while searching for Iota.

“Stay with Theta, help find Kappa,” Dottore finally said. “There are a lot of people in the palace for the promotion of the Eleventh. Many of whom would hurt him or use him as a weakness to try to get to me. Find him before they do.” 

Gamma nodded but swallowed thickly, nervous at the mention of all of the people in the palace for the event. Usually, the attendees all tended to stick to the ballroom during the course of the event but toward the end, some of their bolder enemies meandered down the halls of the palace in hopes of a chance just like the one Kappa wandering off presented. 

He needed to be found before that could happen.

His gaze drifted off to one of the thin, high windows in his lab as Theta and Gamma set off to look for Kappa. A familiar, foreboding feeling settled in his stomach when he noticed a storm rolling in over the mountains in the distance. 

“Are you ready?” Epsilon asked, tightening the drawstrings of his cloak as he prepared to go back out into the cold.

Dottore nodded, reaching for his own hanging up on the hook near the door. “Let’s go.” 

It took about forty minutes of just sitting around the room with nothing to do for you to leave it. He hadn’t locked the door on his way out and he hadn’t told you to not leave the room, so you assumed that you had some semblance of freedom. 

Realistically, a part of you figured that this might be what Pantalone wanted—he wanted you to leave the room and do something suspicious so he could interrogate you, but in your defense, you didn’t have anything malicious or suspicious planned. You just wanted to go up and down the hall to get a sense of where you were.

You hesitated as your hand wrapped around the handle of the door, heart beating rapidly inside your chest, an irrational fear of being attacked as soon as you stepped outside of the room sweeping through you. Logically, you knew it wasn’t going to happen. There was no way that Dottore would hand you off to someone that would put you in a position where you could get hurt, or worse—for his own sake, if not yours. 

With that thought in mind, you pushed the door open, breath catching as you peeked your head out to look around. 

No one. 

The hall was dark, only dimly lit by a few candles in the distance. There was not a soul in sight and the only other door besides yours was on the opposite wall of the hall—you assumed that was Pantalone’s room, he had said he would be nearby. You could see a faint light emanating from beneath the door, so as quiet as possible, you slipped out of your room, shutting the door behind you gently. 

Looking up and down the hall, you decided to go to the right first. You wouldn’t be out for long—you just wanted to see what the wing of the palace you were staying in looked like, you didn’t like living somewhere where you didn’t even have a layout of the area. It made you feel helpless and trapped. 

Exhaling deeply, you kept your eyes peeled and your attention focused as you made your way down the hall, trying to ignore the creepy, expensive portraits that lined the walls—you swore that their eyes followed you as you walked by. 

The further you walked, the more anxious you got. It was a cold, creeping feeling that made you feel as if someone was watching you. Each little alcove that was built into the wall suddenly looked as if it was housing enemies, you thought the shadows seemed to be moving. 

Just as you were about to abandon your mission and run back to your room, unable to handle the fight or flight feeling rising to your chest, you caught a flash of red from one of the smaller alcoves. Your head snapped to the side, peering through the darkness to try to figure out what you had just seen—your heart leapt to your throat when a pair of red eyes stared back at you. On instinct, your vision reacted to your shock and anxiety, buzzing against your skin.

But the red eyes widened in surprise, fear, seemingly trying to press back against the wall but unable to move any further inward. It was only then that you realized how the pair of eyes were rather low to the ground—at the height of a child’s. 

“Come out,” you said quietly, kneeling down to the ground to try to make the kid feel more comfortable. 

After a few moments of silence, the figure drew out from the shadows, shoulders tense and hands locked in front of his body. He was young, looked only around five or six at most with tussled, silvery blue hair and trembling lips. He seemed nervous, borderline terrified, his fingers were shaking where he was holding them in front of him. 

It was then that you realized just how similar he looked to Dottore. The hair was styled differently but the same color and you remembered the glimmer of red you had caught beneath his mask when you had leaned in close. You stared at the kid, at a loss for words.

Did he have a child? It didn’t make sense. Dottore didn’t seem like the type of person to have a lover, much less kids. You’d like to think you had a decent idea of him considering you spent over fifteen years feeling his emotions and ten receiving random words from his train of thought. Shouldn’t you have realized at some point that he had someone else? Was that why he was constantly ignoring you? 

A familiar, ugly feeling stirred in your chest. Jealousy. You thought back to the snide comment you had made to him earlier, unsure if you wanted to laugh or cry at the irony of it. 

The thoughts raced through your head, rampant and damning, were you about to be like your stepfather? Intruding on a pre-existing relationship because you happened upon your soulmate. You felt sick to your stomach, you wanted to throw up, but the longer you stayed there without speaking, the more uncomfortable the child looked, refusing to meet your gaze and shifting on his feet anxiously. 

He was lost, that was clear enough from his body language and demeanor so you held your hand out to him. You figured that Dottore would come looking for him eventually, or someone would at least, and you thought he shouldn’t be wandering around the halls when there were still so many people in the palace. You could still hear the music and chatter in the distance.

“Come here,” you said softly, holding your hand out toward him. You watched as he stared at your hand curiously, an odd expression on his face, but he didn’t say anything as he moved closer to you. Your brows shot up when you noticed he was limping, gaze dropping down to the blood staining his pants. “What happened?”

He didn’t answer, which you should have expected, the kid seemed shy and anxious. Instead, as soon as he got close enough to you, you lifted him up to sit him on your hip as you rose to your feet. The child let out a surprised noise, fisting at your top when he realized that his feet were no longer touching the ground. 

“You shouldn’t be walking on that,” you told him. “I’ll bring you back to my room to check your leg. The Doctor will come for you soon enough.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, you couldn’t help the way your heart squeezed as he relaxed into your arms, resting his head on your shoulder. You could feel his eyes fluttering shut, lashes brushing your neck as they drooped. Instinctually, you hummed softly, one hand rubbing circles between his shoulders as you made your way back to your room, trying to sort through all of your racing thoughts as he fell asleep against you. 

Was it his son? It had to be unless the kid was some weird scientific experiment… which you supposed was also possible. You sighed heavily, making it half of the way down the hall back to your room when you caught sight of two figures standing at the end of it—you couldn’t make out their faces, it was too dark, but you could see their forms dimly illuminated by the moon glowing high in the sky. 

Instantly, something didn’t sit right in your stomach about it, alarm bells ringing through your head, echoing as one of them stepped closer. 

You stepped back, grip tightening on the boy. He stirred a bit, confused, but you kept your attention focused on the two new arrivals. 

“Hand the boy over.”

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