#Dottore should know how to draw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yuutx · 3 months

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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 ? ! (𝐼𝐿 𝒟𝒪𝒯𝒯𝒪𝑅𝐸)

il dottore x f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw + unprotected sex / raw sex ﾉ female masturbation ﾉ test subject x mad scientist ﾉ degrading kink ﾉ clit play ﾉ dirty talk ﾉ size kink ﾉ mdom + fsub ﾉ not proofread ! ૮꒰ྀི ◡ ˶ ◡ ꒱ྀི১

i wrote this a while ago 'n i just found it in my drafts 2 day so i figured i should finally post it ! i wld srsly do anything 'n everything 2 be dottore's test stubject he is soo perfect. art credits go to the lovely @/lllOhara ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

Piercing red orbs scanned the room, scrutinizing every detail. His lips curled into a slight smirk as he saw your figure curled up, encapsulated within a metal cage, and suspended by thick ropes. You looked so small and frail, like a little bird locked away in its gilded cage. The man could hardly suppress a laugh as his eyes trailed up your naked figure, stopping when he saw your head hanging low. It was obvious you were still unconscious, but it wouldn't be long before you awoke. Your breathing had evened out, and the wounds you'd received were beginning to stitch themselves back together. It would seem that you had more fight in you than he'd initially anticipated, and for a brief moment he'd been afraid that he'd made a mistake by attempting to bring you here. But alas, his worries were unfounded. The Doctor was always right.

"Y/N," the man spoke, his voice a deep baritone. His words hung in the air as he waited for you to reply. When you didn't stir, his smirk only grew. "I know you're awake, pet," the Doctor spoke again, this time more clearly, "You're a terrible liar, my dear. Now, stop playing pretend and look at me."

His command was sharp and commanding, yet soft and inviting, and it forced you to comply. Slowly, you raised your head, eyes fluttering open, and met the Doctor's gaze. As your eyes landed on his form, you felt a rush of emotions wash over you, ranging from anger, to fear, and even a sense of longing. You couldn't help but notice the way the light reflected off of his ruby red irises, making them shine like the most brilliant of gems. It was then that you realized just how handsome the Doctor was. His features were sharp and chiseled, his expression serious and brooding, yet his mouth was pulled into a devious smile that made your heart race. The man's appearance was nothing short of regal, and he commanded respect from all who were lucky enough to meet him.

The mask he usually wore was gone, revealing his face in its entirety. You noticed how his lips were set into a thin line, and the way his nose curved downward towards his pointed chin. He was tall, much taller than you were, and his shoulders were broad and powerful. You found yourself mesmerized by the man before you, unable to take your eyes off him, even as your heart pounded wildly in your chest. It was a strange sensation, this mixture of fear and desire, and you had no idea what to do with it. Were you attracted to the Doctor? Perhaps… perhaps not, but something inside of you wanted him, that was for certain.

Your body betrayed you as you shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze, drawing his attention to your nudity. Your nipples had hardened, and your core throbbed with need, aching for release. It wasn't right, you thought to yourself, you shouldn't feel this way about someone who'd captured you, imprisoned you, and planned on experimenting on you. But the longer you stared, the more you wanted him, and the more your mind seemed to lose focus on anything else. Your vision swam as a haze clouded your thoughts, leaving you completely intoxicated with desire. And just like that, you lost control. Your legs parted instinctively, and your hips bucked upward, grinding against the bars of your prison. It was almost as if your body had a mind of its own. You'd never felt anything like it before. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't stop yourself. It was like you'd gone mad, your body reacting on its own accord, no longer caring about consequences or rational thought. And the worst part was, you loved every second of it. Your cheeks flushed crimson as you writhed beneath him, the cool metal of the cage rubbing against your sex, sending shivers down your spine.

You could feel his gaze upon you, watching as your breasts bounced and jiggled while you rode the bars of the cage, grinding yourself against them. Your moans grew louder, and your breathing became labored. It was so good, you thought to yourself, too good. You couldn't help but wonder, had you really gone insane? Were you really willing to sacrifice yourself just for the sake of pleasure? And yet, here you were, doing exactly that. And the man watched, his expression unchanging, save for the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes. His lips twitched, fighting back a smile as he enjoyed your performance. Your moans echoed throughout the laboratory, drowning out the sounds of the machines and equipment around you. It was beautiful, he thought, how could something so lewd and vulgar be so breathtakingly gorgeous? You were like a living work of art, and he could watch you for hours.

You felt your climax approaching, and you tried desperately to stave it off, not wanting the Doctor to see you in such a state. However, you were powerless to stop it. Your orgasm tore through your body, causing your limbs to spasm uncontrollably. Your head lolled forward, and your jaw fell open, letting loose a series of breathy whimpers. Your hips bucked upwards, slamming into the bars, forcing your body against the cold metal. The pleasure was indescribable, unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. It was intense, raw, and powerful, and it left you panting heavily. You could feel the slickness coating the bars, and the smell of your arousal permeated the air. You were completely spent, utterly exhausted from the force of your orgasm, and yet somehow you felt invigorated. You couldn't remember the last time you had came so hard, and the intensity of it took your breath away.

A low rumble reverberated throughout the laboratory, and you could feel the vibrations travel up your spine. The machine beside you was whirring to life, and a loud clicking sound filled the room as its gears began to turn. You couldn't understand what it was doing, or what it meant, but the Doctor seemed pleased by whatever results were displayed. He walked over to you, his eyes never leaving yours, and knelt down beside the cage. He placed his gloved hands against the bars, gripping them tightly, and leaned in close. "That was quite impressive," he murmured, his breath tickling your ear, "Now, let's see what other noises I can pull from that pretty little mouth of yours."

Dottore pressed a button, and the cage was lowered to the ground. You looked up at him, and your eyes met his, and his hand moved to the lock, sliding a key inside. The door opened with a loud click, and he stepped back, allowing you to crawl out. Once you were free, the Doctor grabbed hold of your hair, yanking you forward. You stumbled slightly, and fell into his arms. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you firmly against him, causing your dripping cunt to rub against his groin. A moan escaped your lips as his erection pressed into you, and you felt him twitch in response. "Ahh.." he breathed, his grip tightening around you, "I'm afraid I can't wait any longer."

With one fluid motion, he lifted you into the air, and carried you across the room. He set you down onto a large, cushioned table, and began removing his clothes. You watched him closely, taking in every detail of his muscular frame, admiring the way his muscles rippled under his pale skin. The Doctor's gaze remained locked on yours, and his pupils were dilated, filled with lust. You noticed the prominent bulge in his pants, and your mouth watered as he unzipped his trousers, revealing his swollen member. His cock was massive, thick and long, and it stood proudly at attention, leaking precum down the shaft. He stroked himself lazily, and a deep growl rumbled from his throat. "Do you see what you've done to me, pet?" he asked, his voice husky with desire, "This is all because of you."

You swallowed hard, and nodded, biting your lip as he stroked himself faster. He continued pumping his fist, until his cock glistened with precum. His hand traveled lower, and he cupped his balls, massaging them gently. "Such a naughty little thing, making me hard like this.." he purred, his voice low and husky, "You'll have to pay for that.." The Doctor grabbed hold of your wrists, and forced you onto all fours, getting on the table behind you. "I'm going to break your fucking mind, pet." He growled, "You'll be too fucked up to think straight when I'm done with you." His words sent shivers down your spine, and you whimpered softly as his cock brushed against your slit. He pushed inside of you, and you gasped at the sudden intrusion. His length stretched you to the limit, filling you completely. You cried out in pleasure as his cock slammed into you, burying itself inside your wet cunt. Your walls clenched around him, and his hands gripped your hips tightly, digging into your skin. His thrusts were slow and steady, his pace leisurely, and his eyes never left yours. Your head rolled back, and your body shuddered beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

Dottore's heavy balls smacked against your clit, all while his cock reached places inside of you that hadn't been touched in a long time. He groaned as he bottomed out, pushing deep into your depths, making sure his full length was seethed inside of you. His movements were unhurried, but firm, cock swelling with need as he fucked into your cunt. Your hands clawed at the table, nails digging into the leather, leaving long scratches across the surface. You moaned loudly, unable to contain your sounds of pleasure. "Fuck.." he cursed, "Your pussy's so damn tight.." Your walls squeezed around him, pulling him deeper, causing his hips to stutter. He grunted, and began pumping his hips, pistoning into your core with renewed vigor. His cock slammed into you over and over again, until he finally released a torrent of hot cum into your womb, coating your insides with his seed. His grip tightened around your hips, and he pulled you closer, pressing his chest against your back. "That's it," he growled, his breath hot against your neck, "Take all of it." His words were like music to your ears, and you did as he commanded, letting him fill you up with his thick load. Your body shook, and your eyes rolled back as you fucked yourself onto his dick, slamming yourself back against his groin. He growled low in his throat, and began thrusting harder, using you like a living fleshlight. Your moans grew louder, echoing through the laboratory, filling the air with lewd, obscene sounds. Your juices flowed freely, mixing with his cum, creating a sticky mess between your legs. He pounded into you with such force that the table rattled beneath you, causing it to shake violently.

"Ohhh..oh fuck…fuck, mm-! L-Love it, I love it so muchhh..!" you gasped, tears stinging your eyes as he fucked your brains out, your walls milking his cock, "'m gonna cum..c- h-haahh…so-so close…w-wanna cum on y-your cock…" Your words were slurred, and incoherent, and your body trembled uncontrollably as you neared your peak. "Mm? Is that so?" the Doctor questioned, "Are you gonna cum for your dear Dottore?" You nodded frantically, a hand jumping to your clit, pinching the sensitive nub between your fingers. "Y-Yes…please…p-plea- please make me cum.." you begged, voice strained and shaky, "C-Can't wait..need to…n-nowww..!!" Your words were cut off as your back arched, body trembling as your squirted, splattering him with your juices. Your body went rigid, and your mouth hung open, a scream escaping your lips as he pumped another load of his thick cum into your used hole. "Oh, you little slut," he laughed, his cock still buried deep inside you, "What a mess you've made, Y/N." He held you in place as his seed seeped out of you, dribbling down the front of the table. You couldn't move, your legs had given out, and you collapsed onto the table, panting heavily. Your body was covered in sweat, and your cheeks flushed red, and you could barely keep your eyes open. The Doctor chuckled, and kissed the back of your neck.

"Mmh, don't go falling asleep on me now.." he chided, "We're far from finished."

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scarafvcker · 11 months

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synopsis: scaramouche finds himself in his office, too distracted to do his duties ((i.e. man’s horny as hell and it’s your fault) based off of this drabble))

cws: masturbation, exhibitionism, spanking (only like three times), virginity loss (scara + reader), cunnilingus, fingering, praise, degradation, edging, overstimulation, creampie, chubby!afab!kitsune!reader

word count: 6800+ (it was an accident LMAO)

a/n: thanks for 100 followers guys <3

scaramouche was beyond frustrated, utterly exasperated—exasperated at his exasperation as he glared at the pile of papers laying on his desk. he brought a hand up, running it through his silky indigo locks. he’s mentally chastising himself for getting so caught up in his emotions, even going as far as to let his paperwork pile up on his desk for two weeks straight. the sight of the tall stack of paper makes him curse everything ever, mainly dottore, his segments, and you. he keeps finding his mind consumed with thoughts of you, distracting him from getting work done.

he couldn’t go out and risk bumping into you, opting to stay cooped up in his office under the premise that he’s doing paperwork but nobody knows what he’s doing under the desk. if anyone were to walk in, they’d find him with a light sheen of sweat coating his forehead and the tips of his ears burning a bright red and most would think he’s just fallen ill from the stress of that mountain of papers.

but you’re standing there in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning against the wooden frame with that concerned look on your face that causes his cold, nonexistent heart to melt. and he almost feels bad about how he’s spent everyday thinking about you until his balls are dry, almost feels bad about the way his hand picks up the pace with each word you say, almost feels bad about the way he’s shamelessly pumping his cock while you’re standing there so worried. that caring lilt in your voice nearly draws a deep groan from his throat when you say, “scara, are you alright? you should take a break—let me do some paperwork for you.”

he knows he should send you off, he knows his self-restraint is practically null around you nowadays, he knows that if he were to spend more than three minutes in the same room with you, he’d probably end up begging you to let him fuck you. but he also knows how stubborn you are and before he could even get another word out, you’re shutting the door behind yourself and taking a seat on the opposite side of his desk. god, he’s fucked.

he’s grumbling under his breath and pulling his hand off his dick so he could grab a pen and at least pretend he’s doing work. the room is consumed in a comfortable silence as the two of you start tackling that pile of papers but he still can’t focus. his eyes keep drifting off the paper and up onto you and the way your ear twitches in confusion as you read over the page in front of you. it’s only now that he realizes how soft he is for you. despite being rock hard under the table.

his other hand slides down to stroke himself once again while his eyes are trained onto your face and he has to pry his gaze away from you before you notice it. he watches you in his peripherals, his thumb slowly rubbing at his sensitive tip as he takes in all of your mannerisms from the way your ears twitch when he hisses at how painfully erect he is to the way you bite your lip in concentration. god, your lips. your lips are already making his self-restraint start to slip and it hasn’t even been a minute. you prop your head up onto your fist, pressing your knuckles into your chubby cheek while you purse your lips and start writing.

he flips his paper a few times, pretending to read over it even though his gaze isn’t even on the paper and instead it’s locked onto you while he eye-fucks you. due to the snezhnayan cold, you’re all bundled up but that doesn’t stop the desk from showing off the shape of your boobs when you lean over to look closely at the fine print on the paper. the sight alone is nearly enough to make him cum, having to pull his hand away again to not stain the underside of the table.

“scara?” your voice draws his attention and he shifts his gaze back to your face, “scara, are you sure you’re alright? you’re getting redder by the minute.” you’re wearing that cute little pout that makes him even redder. all of a sudden you stand up and he’s rushing to put his cock back into his shorts while you walk around the table to press the back of your hand against his forehead, “wow, you’re burning up.. i didn’t think puppets could get sick..”

he’s quick to swat your hand away, swirling his chair around to face you properly with a scowl, “i’m fine! can you just go back to working?”

his self-restraint was barely hanging on when you clicked your tongue and grabbed his wrist in an attempt to pull him up but the second your hand wrapped around his wrist, he manages to flip the roles. he snatched his wrist out of your grasp and quickly took hold of you instead, one hand wrapped around your own wrist while his other hand gripped onto your waist. he swears he could hear his self-restraint snap, the sound resonating in his mechanical ears. before either of you could process what’s going on, he’s pulling you into him.

“wh- huh? scara?!” he thought you looked so pretty like this, flustered while you stop yourself from falling onto his lap by resting one knee beside his thighs. he has you towering over him now and he can feel the shallow breathes you take cascading over his face.

he lets out a deep chuckle, his indigo eyes staring up into your own, “it’s all your fault, you know that? you’re the reason i can’t focus.” he guides your hand to rest on his shoulder so he can tightly grip your soft waist with both hands, “if you don’t walk out of my office right now, i’m not sure what’s gonna happen.”

he can practically hear the gears turning in your head through the thick silence before your shocked expression turns into an amused smirk, “my fault? i personally believe it’s dottore’s fault.”

your words cause him to chuckle once more, “of course you knew. what a sly fox you are—pretending you knew nothing while sitting here just to rile me up.” he can see the way your smirk falters for a split second when he manages to push you onto his desk in one swift move, knocking over the stack of papers in the process. you look at the papers as they flutter to the ground and he uses that opportunity to situate himself between your legs, bringing his head down to kiss the soft skin of your neck. he’s keeping his ears open for each and every sound you make to gauge your reaction to his advances, shutting his eyes while he peppers kisses all over the side of your neck.

he’s pressing his throbbing cock against you while his hands slide up and down your body, squishing and grabbing at every piece of fat he can. one hand is grabbing at the fat on the side of your belly while his other hand runs down to massage the outside of your thick thigh. his movements are spurred on by the breathy sounds that you try to hold back and he leaves a little experimental bite on your neck, reveling in the way you let out a shaky gasp and fling your hand up to slide into his hair. he goes back to pressing kisses onto your neck, leaving you wanting more as you buck your hips up to grind against him. he groans against your neck, his words sending vibrations through your body, “fuck, don’t do that.” but you do it again and again until he’s a gasping mess, nearly cumming in his shorts.

“shit, shit-” he hisses, his hands quickly pinning your hips down onto the table as he pulls away from your neck to press his lips onto yours. he takes your lips into a greedy kiss, letting his lips move against yours so perfectly like he was made for you. your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down to press him into yourself and he can feel your soft body against his chest. his hands start to roam again, sliding up the hem of your shirt to feel the warmth of your body and he can feel you shiver at how cold his hands are. he freely grabs at your fat once again, using your body heat to warm up his hands. you’re so soft and warm and it’s making him wonder about how you feel inside.

you pull away from the kiss and he remembers that non-puppet beings have to breathe, a smirk forming on his face when he sees how swollen your lips are. he lets you catch your breath as he attaches himself to your neck again, suctioning his lips onto your skin and leaving tiny red marks onto your neck. you’re grinding your hips against him again and his hands are slowly moving upward, hovering over your ribcage and just under your boobs. he pulls away from your neck again, leaving a few kisses on top of the marks he just left on you.

“you look beautiful like this,” he mumbles before taking a hand out from under your shirt and firmly grabbing your face, his middle finger and thumb pressing into your chubby cheeks. he gently guides your face to the other direction, giving himself access to the unmarked side of your neck before he’s marking that side too. he’s slowly sliding his other hand upward, gliding against the center of your ribcage so sensually and grazing over the middle of your bra just between your boobs. his hand keeps going up and up before stopping at your collarbone and changing direction. his nails are short and smooth over your skin, scratching you ever so lightly as his hand ventures back down your torso.

he knows how his touches cause your body to burn, having spent two weeks fantasizing about you to plan out all the ways he would get you needy for him the way he’s needy for you. it’s working and he can tell by the way your breath hitches, by the way you squirm under him, by the way your hands begin to paw at him, by the way your tail flicks against his leg, by the way you whimper his name.

it’s painful how slow he’s going, painful how much he’s teasing you—for you and him both. but when his hand finally slips under your bra and cups a handful of your soft tits, it’s all worth it. he pulls himself off of your neck with an audible ‘pop!’ before letting go of your jaw and lifting up your shirt. his gaze stays on you as he slowly pushes up the fabric over your chest, eyes darting between the sight of your body and your face. his hands snake around your back and fiddle with your bra, struggling to unhook it before he decided to just pull your bra up too, rolling his eyes when you snicker at his actions.

he immediately attaches himself to your tits, one hand squishing and squeezing at your chest while his lips are wrapped around the other boob and his tongue swirls around your nipple. it’s like he’s lost in the moment, as if nothing else matters when he’s making out with your tit. he can’t help himself—your soft body is just so fun to play with.

your hands are running up and down his shoulders, slipping into his hair again and pulling him even closer to you. he swears he can just cum right then and there—completely untouched, save for your hands in his hair. he has to pull himself away from you again, peppering light kisses in between sucks down the center of your torso and leaving even more marks on your skin. his fingers graze over the fresh hickeys as he slowly lowers himself to his knees in front of you, his lips ticking your skin as he kisses down your belly. he smirks at the shaky little gasp you let out when he nibbles onto your lower belly. he can’t help but admire every single inch of your chubby body, wanting to kiss and bite every single piece of fat he can.

you let out another gasp when his hands roughly part your legs, your half-lidded eyes widening as he looks up at you from between your thighs. you’re so flustered by the way he’s looking at you, eyes darting around the room. he presses a kiss onto your clothed leg, his fingers still snaking over your belly before hooking under the waistband of your pants, “eyes on me, darling.”

such an obedient little thing, you are—looking back at him the second his words left his mouth. his smirk widens and he slowly unzips your pants before pulling them down at an even slower pace. his knuckles graze over your hips, over your thighs, over your knees, over your calves, over your ankles until finally, your pants are completely off and you’re left sitting on his desk with your shirt and bra pushed over your tits and your panties on full display for him. he’s parting your legs again, gently this time while he’s peppering tiny, red hickeys from your knee to your inner thigh. he moves to your clothed heat, his face hovering over it for a second before he’s switching his attention to your other thigh.

“you’re so annoying,” you mumble and watch intently as he sucks and gropes your inner thighs, eyes widening again when he starts licking and biting at the pudgy fat there. you subconsciously flick your tail against his face, suddenly self-conscious but he’s quick to non-verbally reassure you. he gently pushes your tail away and kisses your fat thighs again, putting every ounce of love he has into each kiss until you finally melt and let him suck and nibble your squishy thighs again.

his hands keep massaging your pudgy inner thighs while he kisses up to your knee, leaving hickeys to mirror the ones he left on your other thigh. he’s rushing the last few hickeys, a bit too eager to finally taste you cause he’s suctioning himself onto your clothed cunt. the sight of it alone is embarrassing for both of you but neither of you stop it, letting him tongue at your puffy folds to his nonexistent heart’s content. he’s licking at your clothed pussy, tongue pressing into your hole and flicking it around a few times, dragging it up and down your panties and trying to find that little bundle of nerves he spent days researching about. his fingers are pushing around your puffy folds while his tongue flicks over every spot he could find before he finally finds your clit and you jolt at the touch. your reaction spurs him to do it again and again, focusing all his attention onto that spot until you’re a whining mess.

you’re all breathy and whiny for him with a mantra of his name leaving your lips while his tongue keeps flicking over your clothed clit. god, you taste delicious and he can’t help but imagine how you taste without the barrier of your panties holding him back. he quickly pulls himself away right before you cum, tugging the seat of your panties to the side and blowing some air onto your newly exposed cunt, chuckling at the way you beg for him to lick you again.

he can’t peel his eyes off of your glistening cunt, his thumbs reaching to spread apart your fat pussy lips as he gets distracted by the way your juices shine in the light. he leans in and drags the tip of his tongue from your hole all the way up to your clit, gathering a mouthful of your slick before swallowing it all. god, you taste divine and he can’t help but flick his tongue inside of your hole a few times to taste as much of you as he can.

he slips his tongue as deep as it can go, his thumb reaching up to slowly and gently rub circles onto your clit while his tongue thrashes around inside of you. he’s greedily drinking up all of your slick, his tongue plunging in and out, up and down, left and right. the difference between his tongue and his thumb is mind numbing and he revels in the way you can do nothing but sit there with your hands in his hair, pulling him deeper into you while you grind your hips upward to meet his tongue.

the sound of his tongue dipping in and out of your cunt fills his office, harmonizing with your broken whines and whimpers to coat the room in a sultry atmosphere. neither of you know how thin the walls are but neither of you care either—not when he’s greedily fucking his tongue into your sloppy hole like theres no tomorrow, not when his hands are kneading at your pudgy thighs as they clamp down onto the sides of his head, not when he keeps lapping up all of your juices and thumbing at your overly sensitive clit, not when the pleasure is too much and you’re pushing his head away from your twitching pussy.

he pulls his face away from your cunt but a smirk is plastered onto his lips and you’re not sure why until the tip of his middle finger is sliding up and down your slit, gathering your slick before pressing into your hole a tiny bit and pulling right back out. his finger pressed only a couple centimeters in but he already has your hole twitching around nothing, silently begging to be filled. his smirk grows even wider when he hears your quiet voice say, “scara.. put your finger inside, please..”

“well, when you’re begging like that..” he chuckles and hovers his middle finger just outside your entrance, “..i have to listen to you.” he slowly slides his finger inside, pushing in inch by inch and letting your walls get accustomed to the intrusion. his eyes widen slightly, a bit surprised at how you feel—so warm and wet, so soft and tight, “darling, you’re squeezing my finger so tightly. have you never been stretched out before?”

you shake your head, letting your walls tense up one last time before relaxing completely, “no, it’s easier for me to just.. rub, y’know?” his eyebrows fly upward at the realization of your virginity before he gives you a soft nod, a mutual understanding that the two of you are willing to give each other your first times. he hums before turning his hand to face his palm toward the ceiling, running the tip of his finger against your walls and getting a good feel of your insides.

you keep a smile on your face as he uses his finger to rub at your ridged walls, your expression remains unchanging as his finger surges deeper and deeper up until he grazes against that squishy spot deep inside you. you let out a deep gasp, the smile you wore contorting into a silent moan as pleasure surges through you. he keeps prodding at that spot, sending heat to cascade over your body. he leans forward again, kissing your clit as he mumbles, “you like that, darling? feels like you do.”

the only sounds you could let out where whimpers and pleas of “there! right there! please!” it was music to his ears and he needed to hear more. his finger kept hitting that spot over and over again causing you to get even wetter, using your juices to lube up his ring finger before he slides it in too. you’re a moaning mess, plopping your back onto his desk while your pussy creams and twitches around his fingers. the sounds of his fingers prodding at that spot nonstop is absolutely obscene, causing a hot sensation of embarrassment to cascade over your already hot body. he presses another kiss to your clit that has your back arching off of his desk, urging him to flick his tongue over it a few times.

back arched, legs shaking, tail and ears twitching, hips rocking, toes curling. your hands are pawing at every surface you could reach—gripping the edge of the desk, pulling at his hair, slapping over your mouth.

he’s greedily eating up all of your sounds and movements, relishing in every ounce of pleasure he’s able to pull from you with just his fingers and his tongue. making out with your clit, his lips and tongue are all over that sensitive nub while his index finger is rubbing itself all over your wet skin. now he’s got three fingers curling in you, his hand moving back and forth all while the tips of his fingers keep hitting that squishy part deep inside of you. you’re drowning his fingers in your juices at this point and he’s too busy making out with your clit to lick it all off his fingers. much to his disappointment.

his office is full of the sound of your whining and panting, aided by the lewd squelching of your cunt being stretched out by his fingers. you’re body is covered in sweat, the cold air of snezhnaya forgotten and overwhelmed by the mass amount of heat the pleasure was giving you. a mantra of his name leave your mouth while your hole twitches around his fingers, the heat in your body increasing with each time he presses into that spot until the knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re falling apart on his desk, succumbing to your own orgasm as your whole body shakes.

he doesn’t stop his movements for a while, too drunk on your pleasure to pull away. it’s not until you’re weakly pushing his head away from your cunt that he pulls his fingers out of your twitching hole, immediately popping them into his mouth and licking up all of your juices. the way he doesn’t look away from you while he darts his tongue up and down every stream as it falls down his hand, drinking every single drop, causes embarrassment to fill you again.

you’re about to protest his actions, your mouth opening only for your words to be cut off by a broken gasp when his head dives back in between your thighs. he’s sliding his tongue over every piece of wet skin he could find, his hands kneading at your pudgy thighs and pushing them apart so he could greedily feast on your cunt once more like a man starved. his tongue is sliding all over your wetness, running over before pushing into your puffy folds all while he’s letting out his own groans of satisfaction.

it’s like he’s getting off on just eating you out, like feasting on your cunt is the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his immortal life. you’re still pushing his head away, mewling, “nooo.. ‘s too much, scara!”

he only responds with a gruff hum, his tongue still plunging into your hole. his eyes are staring into yours, watching as your pretty little pained expression morphs into one of pleasure again before he’s pushing your thighs even further. he manhandles you further up the desk, giving himself room to sit back into his chair while he keeps drinking your juices.

it’s like he’s got a whole meal on his desk, one that he has no intention of wasting—making sure to devour every last drop. your hands are gripping on the edge of the desk, hanging on while your head dangles off the other side. your tail is rapidly wagging now, a telltale sign of how overwhelmed you are yet despite your overstimulation, you’re making no longer trying to push him away. your body’s still sensitive from your previous two orgasms and it’s not long until you’re cumming again, whole body shaking while you push his head away once again.

he reluctantly pulls away, his eyes glued onto the sight of your glistening cunt that seems to be calling him. he has to restrain himself, prying his eyes off of your body and guiding them to your face. “so pretty,” he mutters, standing up and pushing his chair away. he’s standing between your legs again, his hands gently caressing your shaking thighs. he watches as you slowly sit up on his desk, ears and tail still twitching ever so slightly as the rest of your body calms down. “you’re beyond pretty,” he spoke in a gruff voice while his hands move to gently cup your face, resting his forehead against yours. you swore you could see the faintest smile twitching onto his lips for a second before he pressed his lips to yours.

the kiss was soft and sweet and you weren’t sure if it was just because of the taste of your juice’s lingering on his lips. one hand snakes into your hair while the other stayed on your face, thumb caressing your soft cheek while his lips dance with yours. without his mind being clouded by the taste of your cunt, he could feel how painfully hard he was. he pressed his aching cock against you, only separated by his shorts and underwear. he broke the kiss, hissing as his cock throbbed under his clothes, “darling, please.. can i fuck you? please let me fuck you.”

even through his clothes, he could feel the way your hole twitches around nothing at his words. a smirk etches itself onto his lips again as he grinds his clothed cock against you, letting your juices soak into the fabric of his shorts. he cooed, “you’ll let me fuck you, right? gonna let me fuck you nice and good, darling?” he smirks even more when your snaking your arms around his neck, pulling him tightly to your chest. he could feel your soft body through his clothes, his hands sliding down your body to grab at your chubby waist.

he used the grip he had on your waist to guide you to the other side of the desk. you were sitting with the length of the desk behind you, forehead pressed to his while his hands snaked up your waist and to your shirt that was still bunched up over your chest. he slips your shirt off, leaving you completely bare for his greedy eyes to gaze at.

“you won’t be able to fuck me with all your clothes on, y’know,” you teased, your hands sliding down to tug at the hem of his shirt. he nodded and eagerly shed his clothing, his excitement showing in the way he hastily tossed his clothes to the floor. he stood in front of you, his body on display for you and your eyes only while the tips of his ears burned a bright red which he ignored. your eyes scanned over his skinny body, widening when you saw his throbbing cock.

he smirked at your shocked expression, taking a step closer to you and pressing his cock against you. his hands trailed up your arms before cupping your face again, making you look him in the eyes as he teased you, “you’re still gonna let me fuck you, right? gonna let me split you open?” he smirked wider when you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded. he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hands flew down to your thighs, grabbing them and pulling you forward until you sat at the very edge of his desk. your hands were gripping at his shoulders while the two of you watched how he grabbed his cock and guided the pretty, pink tip all over your puffy folds.

taking his time to gather your slick with his dick, he grazed his tip up and down your messy folds. he could feel the way your hole twitched when he pressed into ever so slightly before continuing to slide up and rub on your clit a few times. he was eager to slip it in but he wanted to make sure you’d feel just as good so he took his time rubbing your slick all over his cock before finally lining himself up and giving you one last look.

at your nod of approval, he slowly pushed himself in. you both watched as his cock disappeared into you, letting out your own sounds of desire when he stretched you out. he was only halfway in when you whimpered, stuffing your face into the crook of his neck while your fluffy ears tickled his artificial skin. you made no effort to stop him so he kept pushing in until he finally buried himself balls deep inside of you. both of you could feel the other throb and he groaned deeply at the feeling of your walls squeezing him, “relax, darling. you’re tight enough as it is.”

you chuckled at his words and did your best to relax and let your hole take its time getting accustomed to his girth. he was right—he was splitting you open and the combination of your virgin hole and his thick dick made the stretch even more painful. your hands slid across his back while you pull him into a hug, pressing your bodies even closer together. you’re like a pillow to him, your chubby belly and soft tits press against his own torso in a way so perfect that he’s shifting his weight and making you lay down onto the desk.

the cold surface touches your back, making you shiver underneath him while he leans over you. his hips are sitting flush against yours, remaining unmoving until your fully accustomed to his girth. his head moves into your neck again, lips fluttering all over your skin. it felt like hours for him, having to resist the urge to start slamming himself into you while your walls throbbed and twitched around his aching cock. he wanted you to feel good as well but resisting the urge was getting increasingly difficult with every passing second of your hole sucking him in, all while he’s praying to whatever god would be listening to his fucked up little head that your hole will hurry up and relax so he can finally mold your cunt into the shape of his cock.

after what seemed like centuries, you gave your hips a little roll, the action drawing a matching pair of moans from both of you. he peels his lips off of your neck as he starts slowly moving his hips, light and shallow thrusts as if he’s testing the waters. each time he pulls out, he can feel your hole sucking him right back in and he swears he’s addicted. every pull, every push, every ridge of your walls. every moan, every groan, every squelch of your hole. he’s addicted to it all.

slowly, he starts pulling his cock out more and more, increasing the amount of his girth that he pushes back into you with each thrust. first, it’s one inch, then it’s two, then three, four, five.. all until he pulls out to the very tip just before thrusting all six inches of his fat cock back into your puffy pussy. his hands that were once gripping at your chubby waist so gently begin to tighten and he’s suddenly pulling you to meet his hips with each thrust, using you as a toy for his own pleasure. his breath is ragged and sharp and the feel of your warm walls is making him lose his mind. he’s so lost in it, mind clouded and voice gruff as he groans, “fuck, darling. your pussy is taking me so good. you’re taking me so good.”

you mewl in embarrassment at his words, your walls clenching him and sucking him in deeper. he can only chuckle in response, his laughter getting interrupted by a groan at how a simple clench is enough to bring him closer to his orgasm. he would’ve been fine, would’ve been able to hold back if it weren’t for you and the way you whimpered his name. now, it’s his turn to burn from embarrassment as he prematurely spills his seed into you. you gasp at the warmth before chucking, “aw, scara~ i didn’t know a simple moan of your name could get you to-!”

your teasing words are cut off by your own moans when he stands up straight and pins your thighs to your chest. he glared down at you, face red in embarrassment and anger as he starts to quicken his pace. you’re just as infuriating as the day he met you and he’s putting every ounce of frustration, anger, and love he has for you into every thrust. he’s slamming his hips against yours roughly, the sound of his balls slapping against the curve of your ass harmonizing with the pathetic whines you let out.

he’s got you pinned to his desk, pussy creaming and throbbing with each harsh thrust. a condescending smirk plasters itself onto his lips as he watches you fall apart, angling his hips repeatedly until he’s hitting that squishy spot once again. you let out a mantra of his name once more but this time, all it does it fuel him to slam into you even harder. the tip of his thick cock is abusing that spot deep inside you, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head while your whole body is coated with a familiar heat. he growls out your name a few times, smirk growing when he feels your pussy clamping him each each syllable, “aw, darling~ i didn’t know a simple moan of your name could get you to be a mewling mess.”

his eyes flick downward, greedily watching the way his cock sheathes into your puffy cunt over and over again. each thrust has a squelch that fills the room and each squelch has your juices rolling down your ass and onto his desk. he clicks his tongue, looking back up to your pretty fucked out face to watch your eyes flutter shut as you drool all over yourself while he pushes your plush thighs up even higher, “such a messy pussy you have, darling. you and your cunt are one in the same—both drooling for me like a slut.”

your mind is simultaneously racing and completely blank, every ounce of your being overwhelmed. he keeps plunging himself into you at a rapid pace that has your back arching off the desk and your legs shaking, ears and tail twitching wildly with each thrust of his cock into that squishy spot. your little fucked out voice rings in his ears, “scara! scara! scara, i’m cumming!”

“that’s it, darling. cum all over my cock like the slut you are. just like that,” he groans, pushing all his weight onto your thighs as he continuously fucks himself into your twitching cunt. there’s a thick coat of sweat over his artificial skin and his breath is ragged as he gives you one last thrust, his tip slamming right into your cervix as his cum bursts into your womb with a drawn out groan of your name. he pulls himself out of your hole, giving you only a second of peace before he’s using his grip on your thighs to flip you over.

the cold surface of his desk is pressing against your bare chest now, making your nipples stiffen even more. you could just barely register the new position before his tip is back to siding over your sensitive pussy. you look over your shoulder to watch him as he’s gripping his cock with one hand while the other runs up and down your back before pressing into your spine, pinning you to the desk. his cock is scooping up all the cum that spilled out of you and pushing it back into your messy pussy. you mewl as he sheaths himself into your sensitive hole once more, “scara, ‘s too much..”

“one last time,” his words carried a demanding tone that he often used with his fatui squad, a tone that made your hole flutter around him, a tone that made your complaint disappear from your brain. he pulled his hand off his cock, slapping it over the fat of your ass before wrapping it around the base of your twitching tail, “you’re gonna take my cum one last time.“

your sensitive tail thrashed wildly in his hold, pathetic whimpers leaving your lips as he started pounding you from behind. his balls slapped against your throbbing clit with each thrust and he reveled in the way your hands grabbed at the edge of the desk on either side of you in an attempt to stabilize yourself. he rubbed at the base of your tail a few times, the pace of his hand much slower than his hips in a way that was absolutely mind numbing. you rested your face against the cold table, eyes trained onto something on the other side of the room that you couldn’t see with the way your vision blurred at the pleasure.

he was fucking his dick against your cervix with ease in this new position, one hand on your back and the other holding your fluffy tail out of the way so he could watch his cock disappear with every harsh thrust of his hips against your ass. he was fucking obsessed. he needed to keep shoving his cock deeper and deeper into you, needed to fill you up with his cum one more time. he let out a deep breath before letting go of your tail and slapping your ass once more. his hands flew to your chubby waist as he leaned over you, pressing his chest on top of your back.

he kept abusing your cervix with his cock, relishing in the way you fully fell apart for him. he lowered his head to yours, smirking at the way you drooled with each thrust. you were starting to buck your hips back, slamming yourself against him for more. you were a moaning mess, eyes rolled back and nails digging into the underside of the desk.

the two of you panted with each other, moaning and groaning as your hips repeatedly met with a loud, wet slap. his hands slipped under your body, pawing at your belly and tits and enjoying how soft you are. his hands had a mind of their own—sliding all over your body while he fucked you from behind, from your neck to your tits to your belly to your thighs. he couldn’t get enough, he’d probably end up fucking you unconscious if he didn’t stop himself soon.

he kneaded your pudgy thighs again while peppering kisses all over the back of your neck and shoulders, the tip of his cock still slamming into your cervix. both of your minds were completely blank, bodies burning and panting heavily. your hole violently twitched around him, your body shaking once again and your tail flicking rapidly, tickling his stomach. he continued to fuck you through your fifth orgasm, not stopping his thrusts even as you whined, “scara! too much! too much!”

“almost done, darling. you want me to fill up this slutty cunt, don’t you?” the smirk on his face was evident in his voice, “so shut up and let me fuck you full of my cum one last time.” he stood up again, his hands pinning you to the desk by your waist as he kept fucking into your abused hole. you clawed at the desk, laying there and letting him fuck your overstimulated cunt some more. one last thrust and you mewled at the warmth that spilled into your womb again. his hips stilled against your ass for a while as he took a moment to catch his breath, his voice tired and gruff, “god.. you did so well, darling.”

he leaned over again, pressing a kiss onto your cheek before pulling himself out of you and plopping back into his chair. you stayed bent over his desk for a while, unable to move your tired body as he shamelessly stared at his seed spilling out of your aching hole. he resisted the urge to fuck his cum back into you, slapping your ass playfully, “c’mon, get up. i still have all that paperwork to do.”

you slowly pushed yourself off of the desk, legs shaking as you glared back at him. he got himself dressed before helping you out with your own clothes. your hands were on his shoulders, keeping yourself steady while he pulled your pants up your legs. he shook his head in faux disappointment, “so.. you were in on it the whole time?”

“of course not. it was all that segment’s idea—i didn’t know until today,” you said, putting your bra and shirt back on.

he blinked for a moment before smirking, “so the second you found out about it, you just had to come see me.”

taglist: @magica-ren

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin scara #genshin impact scara #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche smut #scara smut #chubby reader

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daylite-writes · 3 months

Note

please please please please pleaseeeeeeeeeeee continue the sagau, its so good!!!!!!!!

Hnggg okay since y’all asked nicely, here’s the next part (pt 1 here) that I originally had partially written. This is legit the rest of it, so I have no more prepped after this. It’s Dottore Centric since I was originally supposed to cycle through most of the harbingers, and is such mild yandere I hesitated as even tagging it as such.

Doctor’s Orders (on your knees before me) - SAGAU ft. Dottore (pt 2)

After being brought back to the Tsaritsa’s Zapolyarny Palace, a familiar doctor is put in charge of your health. Happily, he takes on the role, and you learn a bit why the world loves you, and why the people hate you.

cws: allusions to temporary death, mild yandere, fading memories of a past life.

700 words

~~~

As it turns out, not letting the creator, well, be the creator leads to adverse side effects. Abnormal ley line flows, early deaths, and an unprecedented amount of power given to Celestia. Something Dottore explained to you in great—very confusing—lengths as he treated your hypothermia.

Huh.

You did not remember any of that from when you played the game.

Was the real world even real, or was this one the falsehood? You had a family and a life, for better or for worse.

Your skull began to ache whenever you thought of your home… logically you had a family, a world you hailed from, separated from your own. It faded from you, slowly, as if it was never even there to begin with. It was difficult to mourn it.

Dottore was speaking, you refocused your attention on him, as he strode over holding a hand out for your forearm, a syringe prepared for you. You gave it up easily.

“Creation, as we’ve found, is a hard task. After making a world, said creator often must rest for millennia. This gave Celestia time to attach to our world—to you—like a parasite. You should have awoken long ago. The archons were all expecting you to descend a few hundred years back. When you didn’t, the Tsaritsa’s war against Celestia began.”

“Ah.” Okay… sure. You’d accept that as fact for now. “What happens now that I’ve descended? Is this war against Celestia over then?”

“Hm? Oh, of course not. The Tsaritsa will personally drag Celestia down from their stolen thrones and gut them in your name, before returning their power to you.”

A violent, gleeful edge tinted his tone, then. Under his mask, a sharp smile spread as the thought crossed his mind. You paid it no attention, it was just the way he was.

“How are you so sure I’m the Creator? Others thought me to be an imposter of sorts.”

“How wouldn’t we?” Dottore laughed. “Your blood is gold, your deaths left the world weeping, the stars in your eyes shift to the constellation of whatever person you look at, and you know so much about each of us. Not to mention, we were the ones who awoke you.”

Your eyes immediately tore away from the syringe he was drawing blood with, shooting to him. “What?”

Dottore smiled, lips curling back to bare sharp teeth. “Oh, they didn’t tell you?”

“You couldn’t have awoken me.” You whispered, brow creasing. “I first appeared in Inazuma, where Kujou Sara killed me.”

The arrow was swift. After hours of wandering across familiar landscapes, the soft buzz of electro on your skin, wonder bright in your eyes. All that was cut short when the tengu woman shot you without hesitation. As you faded away, you heard her mangled scream as you bled gold.

“Awakened, not summoned. We could not control where you descended once your body awoke.”

You nodded. No wonder they were so… prepared to retrieve you, then. Brought back to the Tsaritsa’s palace, you were met with staff, a personal chamber, and every harbinger present to receive you. Even the Tsaritsa herself lowered herself from her icy throne to meet you.

You were very relieved that you met their unknown expectations for this ‘Creator’ you were expected to be.

You felt fingers on your chin, cold, the skin to skin contact separated by his sanitary gloves. He tilted your face up, locking eyes with yours, even if they were hidden by his mask.

He let out a soft, utterly enchanted sigh. “My creator.”

You brought your hand up, cupping his face in turn. Immediately, he slumped into it, like a cat, mumbling again; “My creator… my creator.”

You wondered if his eyes fluttering closed at your touch, if the slump of his shoulders, almost purring sigh, was due to your rank as creator. Was your very touch ecstasy?

His eyes remained closed when he next spoke. “The tsaritsa wishes for your presence, once you are medically cleared. It will be a little bit though. I guess you’ll just have to spend some time within my laboratory. Your health will be observed by me, of course.”

The way he said it, slightly cheeky, made you question if you actually were still sick. Alas, you were out of your depth, for now.

So, you drew back your hand, watching curiously as Dottore’s content look shifted to that of a small frown, lifting his head curiously. At his look of slight disgruntlement, you laughed a bit. “I’ll stay here, just for a few days.”

After all, you needed time to prepare to meet the Tsaritsa.

~~~

So this is all that has been prepped for the Sagau stuff, everything else is just passing thoughts. Thing is, SAGAU is way less popular, which means I read way less, and get less ideas. This is a very traditional SAGAU au tho and I’m happy people liked it!

#genshin fanfic #genshin yandere #genshin sagau #dottore #mild yandere #soft yandere #he’s really not that bad which is impressive considering it’s DOTTORE #it’s been like t w o months goodness

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fatuismooches · 6 months

Note

Dottore being jealous over plushies is real >:)

Imagine: reader gets so fed up with Dottore refusing to sleep and spending nights in front of his researches and experiments that you have no option, but to make... *dramatic drumroll* Plushttore! Smol plushie that's exactly like him!!

After 100 years just a few days his body finally gives up and he goes to bed, wanting to cuddle you-- only to see you happily cuddling his plushie?? Why would you do that when original is right here :<

So, no, he's not responsible for disappearance of that plushie.. definitely. Most likely.

But seeing your sad, puppy eyes he supposes he can return it, only if you promise you'll love the original more than it

Reader eventually makes plushies of all Dottore's segments. They're so cute!!

-🥀, waiting for my Arlie plushie to come

SOBBINGGGG!!! You know, you think yourself a pretty patient person, after all, you have to be when you're dating the one and only Doctor but, there are times when even your patience wears out. No matter how much you try and beg to convince him just to spend even a mere hour sleeping with you, he won't budge! You've pulled out every tactic in the book, nothing is working. Fine then! While you're grumpily cuddling your blankets and pillows, still a bit empty from the lack of warmth that should be coming from your husband who's supposed to be right next to you... you get a grand idea! If you don't have a Dottore, just make a mini one! The idea is fantastic, you'll be able to cuddle it 24/7, it'll be so cute and you'll be able to squish its cheeks all the time.

Meanwhile, Dottore is left wondering why all of a sudden you stopped bothering him for hugs and cuddles. Admittedly it bothers him more than he wants and after a bunch of failed experiments, he gives in and goes to find you. Only to see... an imposter taking his rightful place next to you. A plushie, of all things. At first, he actually finds it a bit amusing. Were you so desperate that you needed to make this thing to satisfy your longing for him? Very funny, dear, now move it aside so he can cuddle you. But you're still cuddling it even though he's right here? Are you serious right now?? Why would you settle for an inanimate copy when he's right here? I find this so funny because Dottore knows he is a possessive man, but he will never admit it if he's jealous, especially not over a damn plushie of all things. Well, this is his punishment for ignoring you, his darling lover for so long! >:(

Yes, Dottore is a plushie stealer. Actually, he's a stealer in general, he steals anything that occupies too much of your attention whenever he wants it. Like, when he's not around go ahead and indulge!! But when he's all grouchy and in need of attention, whatever is drawing your focus away from him will be confiscated (he will return it when he's satisfied by you)

All the segments' plushies are organized on your bed every day and it's super cute. You also made a plushie of yourself for Dottore as well for him to keep! (He admires your handiwork but claims that such things are not for him... yea sure he keeps the thing on his desk and sometimes gives the plushie deathly squeezes when he's bored.)

#smooches talks #🥀 anon #dottore love notes <3 #I HOPE UR ARLIE PLUSHIE COMES SOON!! i too am waiting for my dottore ones !!#i love this brainrot so much :(( showing the segments all excitedly ur plushies!! look!! you made a mini cuter version of them!!

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years

Text

By The Fractured Altar.

Yan Scaramouche x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, codependency dialed up to the MAX setting, and Dottore shows up for a second so sorry about that in advance. Word count: 4.6k.

The first time the Wanderer thinks he’s lost you, he learns that every moment of fear he ever experienced before paled in comparison.

He awakes with a start. Lying beneath a blanket of gleaming stars, his eyes are slow to adjust to the low lighting, the once roaring campfire calmed to a hush. Its surviving embers nearly rival the magnificence of the welkin above in their glow. An empty pail sits beside the concaving wood that once stood so proudly. From this, he assumes he fell asleep before you. You always made it a point to put out the campfire before you both turned in for the night. In the warmer seasons, the Wanderer didn’t mind; it wasn’t until autumn’s chill nipped at his cheeks that he questioned your reasoning.

“The forest provides blessings for us,” you had told him. “Clean water from the stream, plentiful fruits that’ll always grow back no matter how many we pluck, and shade to protect us by day. In return for the forest’s generosity, we must keep it safe. Ours is a mutual relationship. All it takes is a single gust of wind to disturb this balance. Still… it’s not good to be cold either. I know! Come, lay down next to me, and we’ll keep each other warm.”

So he did — and continues to, religiously at that, regardless of if the cicadas thrum their wings to a deafening hymn in the scorching summer, or if all is silent in a desolate winter. For the warmth you provided was unlike anything else he’d ever experienced.

The Wanderer takes note of your absence with frenzied glances and wide, doe-like eyes. It was here that a few hours ago you lulled him to sleep, his head resting on your lap, and your magical fingers threading through his fine hair. You whispered stories that, while intriguing, were not the primary subject of his adoration. He was far more preoccupied with savoring the sound of your voice to pay much mind to the rabbit who apparently takes residence on the moon. Hmph, what a silly notion! He hopes you don’t think he believes in such childish drivel. He only stilled his insolent tongue so that you might speak uninterrupted.

Still, he couldn’t help but draw a comparison between you and the rabbit this story centers around. Have you not, in your own way, offered yourself to him, a God? This is the last sentiment he focused on while drifting in and out of consciousness. How lovely it’d be if you both could reenact the tale. He, too, would like to take you someplace far away, where no one else could dare reach.

Whether it be the moon or anywhere else.

He calls out your name, gently at first, so as not to betray his inner panic. If you happened to be around the corner and overheard him crying out for you as a baby bird stuck in a nest would, you’d torment him for days with your teasing. He quiets himself and awaits your reply. Every second that follows stretches out for an abject eternity.

The Wanderer resolves himself to find you, standing on shaking legs, so absorbed with his mission that he forgets to don his hat woven of straw. His garments catch on low-hanging branches, tearing the fabric and scratching at his skin, yet he pays it no mind. He uses the sparse moonlight that sneaks past layers of thick leaves overhead as his guide. Navigating the verdure feels different compared to when you’re present, he no longer cares to behold its beauty. How could he, when his mind is in such disarray?

He searches and searches, longing to quiet the still little voice in his head that seeks to smother the fledgling hope you’ve nurtured in him.

The rest betrayed and abandoned you, it gleefully reminds. Why should she be any different?

The Wanderer shakes his head. That can’t be true. You’ve been with him the longest, contented yourself in his company, and welcomed him to do the same with you. Wherever you went, he went. Wherever he went, you went. It was a simple yet effective dichotomy that he derived great pleasure from. For all his suffering, all his humiliation, you have what it takes to be an antidote to his many woes. What patient diagnosed with a terminal illness would let such a panacea slip through their fingers?

Humans are not to be trusted, the sinister voice reiterates. You said so yourself. Now, you’ve gone back on your word, and look at the consequence: you’ve been tossed aside like dross yet again. When will you ever learn?

Up ahead lies a clearing in the woods. The Wanderer hasn’t stilled for a minute, though his construct of a body longs for rest and respite. It will receive nothing until his current mission draws to a close. You couldn’t have made it far, he’s sure of it. The past few days entailed traveling from dawn to dusk for reasons unbeknownst to him. You said the destination behind your journey would remain a secret until you both arrived. As always, he was inclined to snuff his curiosity out if it meant entertaining your many whims, he had hardly cared for the end result anyhow. So long as he had you, he cared little about anything else to the point of negligence.

She was hinting at her treachery, the voice hisses once more. It sounds more like his own with every passing word. You were willfully blinded by sentimentality, is it any surprise your creator foresaw this weakness and chose another to fulfill your purpose?

Upon emerging from the forest’s treeline, he is nearly blinded by how bright the moonlight shines when unobscured.

Burn the forest down as you did the child’s home. Let flames consume all and incinerate her with it. Level the world until nothing remains, for if there is no one left, never can another being leave you behind again.

When his eyes finally adjust to the bright assault, what he sees nearly has him dropping to his knees in relief. You sit on the ground a few paces ahead, your back to him, gazing up at the night sky. Silvery hues surround your person, bathing you in an iridescent glow that both hypnotizes and lures him in. A branch crackling beneath his feet warns you of his oncoming approach. You turn your head in his direction, your countenance melting from uncertainty to recognition. Gentle lines form beneath your eyes as you smile, beckoning him closer.

“It’s a full moon tonight. The view from here makes all the walking we did worth it. I thought about waking you so you could join me, but you looked so peaceful,” you tell him. The shaky sigh he lets out is one of unparalleled relief. There was no nefarious scheme at play here — you were just being yourself. The damning voice echoing in his head falls silent. “What is it you were dreaming about for that infamous scowl of yours to depart, Wanderer?”

You. He never dreams about anything else. If he did, he’d consider it a nightmare.

“Wake me up next time,” he grumbles, despising how pouty he sounds. You must think so too, because you laugh, your voice light and airy. What he intends to be an order comes out more like a plea.

“Okay, okay, I will, don’t look at me like that.”

You then tilt your head, your eyes narrowing so that you can see him better. “Hm…? Wait, Wanderer, are you…?”

He freezes in place upon feeling deplorable wetness slide down his cheeks. Cruel, mocking. A testament to his shortcomings. For an instant, all is still, aside from the trembling of his hands and lower lip. He longs to hide the unsightly expression with the brim of his hat. The emotions that flicker over your face are unidentifiable, or rather, he’s too afraid to try and decipher them. Despondency latches itself around him like heavy chains. No, no, no, you weren’t supposed to see him like this, you can’t ever see him like this, weak and vulnerable and undivine.

His mother cast him off for his tears; it’s only safe to assume you would do the same.

He’s so lost in the twisting labyrinth of his decaying mind that he doesn’t register your footsteps padding his way. Soft hands press against his damp cheeks, gently wiping his tears away, your face mere inches from his. He observes with awe and wonder as you treat him with the utmost tenderness. There’s no furrow of your brow that hints at irritation or impatience behind your touch. When he finally finds the strength to make eye contact with you, he witnesses depths of benevolence unlike anything he’s ever witnessed before. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. No bottomless bottle of sake could delight or inebriate him more than the look you’re giving him now.

“Hey, do you want to tell me about what’s wr— mmph!”

He covers your lips with his own, inexperienced and hasty, driven by nothing but a desire to permanently connect your bodies together. Throughout his travels, he learned that humans did this to express fondness for one another. Following this reasoning, there was nothing that felt more appropriate to him at that moment, when his mind and soul and whatever false mockery of a heart he has yearned for you to the point he aches. This hot, searing pain you inflict is a paradox of extremes. He should detest it, run from it, yet he cannot imagine a life without it. You make him feel. Undoubtedly, it could be a curse at times. And still, the potential blessings urged him to persevere through all the muck and mire.

The Wanderer tastes the saltiness of his tears on your lips. For once, he is too absorbed to pay it any mind. Your initial confusion fades into gentle reciprocation, pleasing him greatly. He barely knows what he’s doing, or why he’s doing it, but it seems right. As if everything was falling into place. You taught him the importance of balance, didn’t you? He thinks the two of you could encompass the belief perfectly. For all the bitterness that festered in his being, your sweetness could envelop and drown it out.

When he begrudgingly parts from you, sensing you need air to sate your mortal body, he presents you with a sacred covenant.

“Promise me that I’ll always have you,” he implores. Even he is almost embarrassed by the unexpected boldness, his fair skin turning red. “You have to promise. I’ll do anything, agree to any condition… so long as I have your word.”

You consider him, weighing his words on your mind’s youthful scale. He gnaws impatiently on his lower lip while you contemplate your response. You have to accept, don’t you? You must enjoy traveling with him, or else you wouldn’t do it. There’s a home tucked away in a little village for you to return to if that were the case. The insecurity he must often fight when considering this reality is nowhere to be seen. The Wanderer feels as if a fog has been lifted from his mind, a clearer path lying ahead. You’ve sung him to sleep, wiped away his tears, and returned his kiss; that has to mean something. He knows it.

“I want to see the world past this archipelago. If I can do that with you, then you have my word. I promise to always be with you.”

He smiles at you. Such a pure expression, devoid of any underlying scheme, hasn’t graced his face in some time. You return the gesture in kind. His hands fall so that they might intertwine with yours. He swings his arms ever so slightly, basking in your ethereal presence, content that he’ll never have to know loneliness again. Those painful days and boring emotions could be put behind him, never to be spared another glance.

“We don’t have to stop at just seeing the world,” he hums, something akin to pride swelling in his chest. His eyes radiate a violet hue. “I could give it to you in its entirety, should you ask.”

You giggle at what you presume to be a joke and shake your head. “Always aiming for the stars, are we, my Wanderer? I’m not nearly as ambitious as you. Seeing it is enough to satisfy me.”

“Then it’s a promise.”

ii.

The second time Kunikuzushi thinks he’s lost you, he learns madness will be his companion until you return to your rightful place by his side.

Presently, you lay down on a crude examination table. Your vibrant gaze is hidden beneath closed eyelids, your lips downcast in a permanent frown, and your hair loose beside your stationary form. The blankness of your physiognomy is unbecoming of one as lively as you. Kunikuzushi considers running his fingers over the softness of your cheeks, but ultimately decides against it. With that charlatan lurking about, he can’t risk displaying his affection so blatantly. He stands by your side, faithful as a bridegroom, never quitting the room for an instant. The absence of sound torments him.

“It won’t be much longer,” he whispers, unsure if the reassurance is for you or himself. The latter is more likely. “I’ll see those pretty eyes staring back at me again soon enough.”

Every trace of delicacy on his features evaporates the instant the door opens. Kunikuzushi meets his new colleague with a look of barely suppressed impatience, whereas The Doctor presents himself in an amicable fashion. He extends his hand for Kunikuzushi to shake, a gesture which has the latter scoffing and rolling his eyes. The Doctor plays off the blatant disrespect without a care, choosing instead to focus on the main reason for his being here today. Kunikuzushi tenses when his fellow Harbinger strides past him, toward your vulnerable form, an inquisitive air encouraging the bold act.

Under normal circumstances, Kunikuzushi would obliterate anyone who dared approach you without his express permission. Fortunately for this copy of The Doctor, his potential benefits override Kunikuzushi’s proprietorial behavior. He is the one who called upon the heretic, after all.

“So this must be my patient,” The Doctor gives you a perfunctory glance, which Kunikuzushi assumes is more for show than anything else. Your condition had been painstakingly relayed through numerous written correspondences. “What an interesting solution you’ve arrived at, temporary as it may be. To prevent the spread of madness associated with prolonged tatarigami exposure, you’ve placed her into a stasis-like slumber. Would I be correct in assuming the knowledge of this technique is owed to your unique background?”

“Is my answer necessary in aiding you with your job?”

“No,” The Doctor replies, his tone facetious. He examines the sheen of arcane energy that engulfs your form closer, then gives an off-putting smile. “It’s for curiosity’s sake that I ask, since I am a researcher, first and foremost. And this level of perfection transcends human capability.”

It is immaculately applied, as The Doctor surmised — (naturally, since Kunikuzushi is the one who applied it) — the very same technique his creator used on him once he was deemed worthless. In recognizing your rapidly deteriorating state, he didn’t know what else to do. He fed you his divine energy to keep your life force from succumbing entirely to tatarigami’s malaise; it just wasn’t enough. Your feeble human constitution could only handle so much, you weren’t made to withstand such extremes.

One night, he promised in a cryptic manner to fix this malady, no matter what. You have yet to regain consciousness after hearing his solemn vow. With Kunikuzushi’s newfound Fatui connections, he came to hear of a certain madman capable of performing feats that spat in the face of Teyvat’s ‘laws’. It was desperation that drove him to swallow his pride and ask The Doctor for help.

“Then I’ll leave my answer to your twisted imagination.”

The Doctor chuckles at that, his chest rumbling. “You’re as temperamental as they say.”

Kunikuzushi’s face almost splits in two from how wide he grins. “And you’re every bit as insufferable, wasting my time with all this idle chit-chat. I held up my end of the bargain and procured the materials you need for your heretical ends. Now do your part.”

“Gladly! It isn’t every day I get to tinker with assistance from the divine. I hope to learn much from your tutelage. Although…”

The Doctor places a hand on his chin. “While I can guarantee her physical condition’s improvement, her mental state is beyond my purview. Forgive me, if it isn’t my place to say this, but… waking to the news she’s now immortal will serve as quite the shock. What contingencies have you set into place for this?”

It takes all of Kunikuzushi’s self-restraint to prevent himself from calling down lightning from the heavens to smite this audacious quack. The Doctor might be feigning compassion, yet given his bloody track record, Kunikuzushi doubts he cares in the slightest. He’s trying to wring reactions out to delight his sadistic machinations. There’s an underlying malignant current to The Doctor’s inquiry that threatens to spark electricity in Kunikuzushi’s clenched fists, a test of sorts. The Doctor must be wondering how far his care for you extends. Kunikuzushi would rather no one knew about this exploitable weakness of his.

It’s for your sake — and your sake alone — that he manages to reel himself in. He won’t jeopardize your well-being due to some provocative statements. He would endure anything, do anything, so long as he could have you to himself again. The wait is almost over. A few low blows to his ego is the least he could sustain for your recovery.

“Whoever said anything about telling her?” Kunikuzushi returns The Doctor’s question with a question of his own. This should serve to put the dog off his trail, Kunikuzushi isn’t technically lying, yet the callous delivery belies his inner feelings. The less The Doctor knew about his attachment toward you, the better.

At this, the reprobate breaks into a fit of laughter, as if he’d been graced with the funniest joke ever told. His fangs gleam beneath the sparse lighting in the room, bemusement radiating from his being. “So that’s how you intend to handle things. Very good, very good.”

The Doctor straightens out the recently sterilized tools on a nearby table. “I’ll delay the procedure no longer. Shall we get to work, Balladeer?”

It won’t be much longer, [First], he thinks, the desperate thirst for your presence soon to be quenched. I’ve seen to it that you could keep your promise.

“Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“With pleasure.”

Kunikuzushi is so caught up in his own designs, he fails to notice a single tear that drips down the expanse of your otherwise serene face.

iii.

The third time Scaramouche thinks he’s lost you, he learns that his patience is not what it used to be.

There were certain parameters you were to adhere to — he’s remiss to call them rules, but he supposes the word fits — all for your safety and his peace of mind. The Fatui lackeys that trail after him like a dog are useless in everything besides your surveillance. They hide in the shadows, observing you from afar, dutifully reporting every change down to the slightest fluctuation in mood. From his vantage point, you’ve adapted well. He’s gently guided you, covering your eyes when necessary and encouraging you to look at what he thinks you should see.

Still, you had your rowdy bouts. This particular episode just happened to necessitate his involvement.

“Not intending to come back in for the night, [First]?”

Your legs dangle over the edge of the dilapidated castle the Fatui happened to be inhabiting for the moment. You keep your back to him, despite undoubtedly hearing his approach, your gaze locked on the heavens hidden behind a curtain of thick clouds. Your hair billows in the unforgiving Schenzayan breeze, some strands occasionally getting caught on the fluffy fur of your winter coat. He bends over to free what got caught on your collar. Your prolonged silence is unusual and unwelcome, he hoped that the open-ended question would serve to stoke the flames of conversation, even if it meant getting burnt. He’d rather you incinerated him to the bone than leave him to waste away in bitter-cold silence.

When he moves to pull away, only for you to stop him, twisting your torso around and catching his hand in yours. His breath lodges itself in his throat the moment your eyes finally meet. Though it appears to be the same hue as always, when the light hits it a certain way, there’s the faintest trace of violet. A testimony to the deep connection that binds you to him forevermore. Your beauty is so awe-inspiring, that at that instant, if you asked him to lay down his life for you, he wouldn’t hesitate to concede.

You whisper a name he forgot he ever went by, the very first of the identities he assumed when traversing this world. After gaining his devout attention, you go on to say, “I need to ask you something. May I?”

He breaks himself from his reverie long enough to reply in the affirmative.

“What… what am I, exactly?”

He is quick to school his expression, ensuring that his countenance gives away nothing just yet. “What do you mean by that?”

You pause as if you weren’t entirely sure yourself.

“Ever since I’ve woken up, something… no, everything… feels slightly… off. As if every piece of furniture in my home that I’d been familiar with my entire life was moved an inch to the side. The change is so subtle, so elusive from my understanding, that I can’t tell if it’s real or a product of my overactive imagination.”

Your grip on his hand tightens. “I think I should’ve died, but I didn't. I've seen the tall stone peaks of Liyue, traversed the vineyards of Mondstadt, and slept beneath the canopies of Sumeru’s rainforests. You’ve held your promise to me and mine to you. So why does my existence feel so wrong? So unnatural? I know you must’ve done something to me. Please, tell me what it is. I don’t think I can know peace until I know why it feels wrong to live.”

“It isn’t wrong,” he’s quick to interject, too quick, likely far from the placating comfort he intended it to be. You’re gracious enough to allow him time to recollect himself, precious being that you are. “If any tongue dared to claim otherwise, I’d cut it out and throw it at the dirt by your feet, where it belongs.”

“Even if it’s mine?”

“Of course not,” he scoffs, made incredulous by the notion. “Similar to myself, you have surpassed god and man alike. You are above them both. If the false heavens look down on you, I’ll gouge out their eyes; and if man voices complaints, I’ll slit their throats. There is no one who can judge us. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”

What he intends to be a plea comes out more like an order.

You heave a heavy sigh. “Thinking that way must make you awfully lonely.”

His fingers twitch against your skin. “... Not anymore.”

Your arms fall limp by your side and your body relaxes. Much to his chagrin, you turn back around, facing any direction but his own. A frown carves itself onto his face. From this vantage point, he is a hawk, and you, his little mouse who tires from trying to scurry away in vain. He thinks to sit beside you or pull you up to his level yet decides against it. He rests his hands on your shoulders, giving them a squeeze, reminding you of his presence.

As if you could ever forget.

“I thought I’d hate you when you confirmed what I already knew, deep inside,” if you feel how his body goes tense at the word hate, you don’t mention it. “For some reason, that doesn’t feel right either. If what you said is true… and I am like you now… then I think it might be for the best.”

“You do?”

He is unable to mask his surprise by how easily you acquiesce. He anticipated a myriad of issues upon the day you learned the truth, everything from shrieking to denouncement and even violence. His mind kicks into overdrive, raking through every word that left your lips for inconsistencies or potential falsehoods. Deception was never your strong suit, you wore your heart and your sleeve. He was dutiful in studying it and committing the various nuances to memory. Even the slightest hint of falsehood wouldn’t slip past his radar undetected.

A sliver of the moon peeks out past the tightly knit together clouds, encasing you both in its glory.

“Though you speak of your loathing for the gods, you’re set on becoming one yourself.”

This comes out as more of a state than a fact.

“No matter the outcome of this goal, I have a premonition that many will be hurt in your path to glory,” your voice is firm, albeit tinged with melancholy. “I will stay by your side, as promised. I will love you more dutifully than a wife would her husband. You will love me back, and in doing so…”

Finally, you rise to meet his astonished stare, pressing your forehead against his. His lips are slightly agape, eyes as wide as saucers. He thinks you might be more of a deity than him, and for that, he deems it sacrilegious not to worship you. Your warmth has never failed to pacify him. His rage born from innumerable betrayals burns hotter than the sun, yet your willingness to reach out and become ash eclipses it all. You lightly press your palm over the left side of his chest, where nothing beats.

“I will never let you forget that you have a heart, no matter how hard you try to scrub the knowledge away. I’ll write it down over and over, carving it into your skin if that’s what it takes to immortalize the truth.”

He’d gladly hand you the blade if it meant prolonging the ecstasy of experiencing your touch.

“You’re sacrificing yourself to me, then? Your happiness, your dreams, your future… if you make such a tempting offering, I’ll have no choice but to accept. I’ll take them all and demand more. I won’t be a merciful god, not even for you. Knowing how bitter it’ll taste, you’ll still accept my love without spitting it out?”

“I’ve always found it to be bitter,” you confess. An expression of wistful nostalgia settles on your face. “When you were a nameless traveler, the Wanderer, Kunikuzushi, and now, the iteration others refer to as ‘Scaramouche’. I’ve tasted the bitterness so frequently that my tongue is now numb to its flavor. If anything… having subsisted on it for so long… I might not have an appetite for anything else.”

The puppet of many names smiles at that from ear to ear. How lovely, that a millennia of wretchedness could be mended so easily when you held the needle?

All along, he thought that whenever you were lost, departing from the path he so meticulously laid out for you, he’d need to redirect your course. What an unnecessary overexertion! He sees it now, a reality that he thought was too good to be true. An oasis in the desert is not always a mirage — this serves as proof.

For no matter how far from the main road you deviated, you’d inevitably always return to him.

#scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #yandere kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #yandere wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #scaramouche brainrot #my stuff

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nekoashiii · 2 years

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Sagau brainrot + headcanons

Genre: Crack and sagau, cultish behavior cause once again sagau

proofread <3

Alright so we read alot of fics where the characters such as archons are trying to break out of this game so they can meet their god, their creator face to face.

But why don't we add the part where EVERYONE gets together to break out of your device, including Tsaritsa and the fatuis.

For example, Dottore and albedo both team up to break out of their world, sure they aren't a fan of each other but they are willing to help another if they can meet you in person and serve you the way you want

Like kokomi, Raiden, pantalone, ayato, ningguang all financially helping albedo and Dottore with their experiments

But once they find out how, they will shatter the front screen of your device from inside and then proceed to walk into your world

Sure they are breaking the rules of existing but oh-

There you were, sitting on your couch with a...device..? Thing.. in your hand(a phone lmao)

Ok headcanons start from here:

When they see you sitting on your coach with a blanket over your body watching a screen, "wait woah that screen is moving" Qiqi said

"shhhh quite Qiqi" venti shushed her

"so, how are we going to introduce ourselves to our grace?" Yae Miko said

"as much as I am thrilled to meet our god, it's better if we let the electro archon go in first, creator might know her.." Kokomi added

"Absolutely not, she finds us better to handle, at least we didn't cause war and steal visions unlike someone." Arlecchino said

"what the hell did you just say you fatui scu-" Sara said while turning her whole body towards the harbinger

"woah now cut the attitude miss, creator won't be satisfied if we are acting like this. It's better if the fatuis go first." Pantalone replied,

"the kamisato clan is way more prepared and more mannered than the fatuis, we should go first" ayaka said

Uh oh looks like an argument is about to go down

Meanwhile:

As you were watching an anime with your headphones plugged in, you failed to notice the argument going on behind you

Some were even ready to draw their weapon out on eachother, like they didn't team up for the last 8 months of their life

But the shadows moving behind you didn't go unnoticed

Absolutely panicking thinking someone broke in the house you turn around to face. The...characters from the game you downloaded 4 days ago?

Realizing that you are watching they quickly drop to their knees and introduce themselves to you

"..Im sorry. What. Did the pharmacist accidentally gave me drugs i shouldn't have eaten or.."

Hearing this, some were absolutely frightened, thinking the pharmacist poisoned you or gave you the wrong drug, they surrounded you, Dottore and tighnari checking your pulse while albedo and sucrose were checking the vitamins that you take

Jean giving you a glass of water while the children were staring at your mobile, thinking it was the device that you use to watch over people since humans were displaying to move in it

Oh well, absolute chaos started, you better hope you don't get headaches from it

Y'all I really like this. I want to continue writing about this sooo, slide in some of your ideas in my Askbox 😈💅✨

#sagau #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin sagau #sagau yandere #sagau childe #sagau fatui #yandere cult genshin #yandere sagau #yandere pantalone #sagau modern #sagau sucrose #sagau albedo #sagau jean #sagau dottore #sagau x reader #sagau crack

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erikatsu · 1 year

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BREEDING + GENSHIN MEN !

❍ PAIRINGS: fem!reader x itto, diluc, kaeya, dainsleif, dottore, & childe (separate)

❍ WARNINGS: [n]sfw. breeding (mostly implied), unprotected.

ITTO: dom!reader + use of “puppy” + overstim. DILUC: mating press. KAEYA: fully clothed + use of "mommy" + semi-public + baby trapping. DAINSLEIF: reader is implied to be royal +mating press + use of "princess" + cervix fucking + implied multiple rounds. DOTTORE: semi-public + fully clothed + mentions of menstrual cycles + use of "pet"/pet play maybe (?) CHILDE: baby trapping + use of "princess"

❍ NOTE: yet another repost from my last blog with an addition

⊱ ITTO

you don’t even have to ask itto to cum inside you as you start to max him out. the way you wrap your legs around his torso and roll your hips quicker once he tells you he’s close says it all. he rests his head on your shoulder, eyes closing as a strangled grunt pushes past his lips. you hold his head against you while you grind down on him, “c'mon, puppy. need your cum. want to keep it all inside.”

the thought of you milking him dry sends him reeling. he roughly paws at your hips, trying to hold on as your walls squeeze tighter around his cock and your pace quickens. his nails dig into your skin once he finally reaches his high, sticky cum coating your insides white. you don’t give him a chance to calm down, still bouncing in his lap despite the whimpers falling off his lips.

“not again. s'too much,” he whines, his hot breath fanning your skin as he tries to catch his breath. he was dizzy, yet still hard and throbbing against you.

“but, ’m not full yet, puppy,” you coo, allowing yourself to take his entire length. “i want you to cum until i am.”

⊱ DILUC

the words “please cum inside me” falling breathlessly off your lips had him halting in his tracks. you two were always so careful, and your sudden change of heart took him by surprise.

“are you sure?” he questions, looking down at you to make sure you weren’t just cock drunk and that you were completely serious.

you nodded, slowly bringing your legs up and wrapping them around his torso. you push him back into you, drawing a groan out of him. he takes a brief second before he collects himself, his hands coming up to grip your thighs before pushing them back. you let out a small yelp when he sets his rhythm a bit harsher than it was before.

he leans in, almost forcing your knees to your shoulders as he presses his lips against yours. you moan against his mouth as he grinds into you, using long and deep strokes to chase his orgasm. he’s got you pinned to the mattress, his mind clouding from the thought of your pretty cunt full of his juices and the consequences that could come from it.

it doesn’t take long for the movement of his hips to fall out of rhythm and pick up speed. he rides out his high, pushing his cum deeper into you with each thrust before he finally bottoms out and stops, letting one of his hands gently run up your leg and over your tummy, “i think we should do that more often, darling.”

⊱ KAEYA

you don’t know what came over him when he pulled you into jeans office, but it didn’t take you long to figure out as he kicked the door shut and immediately caught you by the mouth. this wasn’t the first time the two of you had fooled around in jean’s office, but it was the first time he had your underwear pushed to the side, back pressed into the couch by the window, telling you how well being a mommy would suit you.

you’ve got your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your legs locked around his waist while you whimper underneath him. he uses his lips to keep you quiet, the rocking of his hips becoming more unsteady with each thrust. the second you use your legs to push him in further, he’s coming undone. his cock twitches inside you as he buries himself as deep as he can.

you both are panting hard as he slowly pulls out. his eyes fixate where his cum starts to leak out of you, and he trails his fingers along your folds before using them to push it all back inside. you let out a soft gasp, a devilish grin tugging at his lips, “i told you that you’d make a good mommy, sweetheart.”

⊱ DAINSLEIF

as soon as the word “fuck” rolled out of his mouth, you knew he was close. his grip on your hips tightened before easily flipping your positions so he was on top of you. his thrusts were rhythmic as he sloppily peppered kisses along your jaw and neck. he was panting, barely audible above your whimpers as he bottomed out with each roll of his hips.

“m’so close, princess,” his hot breath fans against your skin as his hands hook under the bend of your knees, tilting them back as far as he could without hurting you. he was soaking in the way you looked underneath him as he pulled back, how tight you were wrapped around him. he couldn't help himself, a certain desire taking him over him as he shifted your hips up.

you let out a moan at how deep he was reaching, the tip of his cock pushing up against your cervix. normally, you would have protested against the two of you being unsafe, but the position he put you in had you dizzy– reeling– and so close to another orgasm. he came undone first, fucking his cum deep into your drenched cunt and not letting up until he could feel you spasming around his cock.

he was still hard as you caught your breath, gently dropping your legs and rutting into you until he bottomed out. you groaned, reaching up and bringing his head down so you could press your lips against his.

“more,” you muttered, chest heaving and eyelids fluttering. “want- want an heir.”

who was he to tell you “no”?

⊱ DOTTORE

there was something about the way you looked bent over his lab table, especially when he knew that at any given moment, one of his lackies could walk through the door. this time, he was getting a kick out of the fact that he knew you’d be ovulating soon.

all he could think about as he dragged his cock in and out of your drenched cunt was the thought of knocking you up and keeping you by his side because he had yet to grow bored of you. plus the idea of having a little protégée running around was not one he was going to turn his nose up at.

his chest nearly pressed against your back as he nipped at your neck, his sharp teeth lightly pressing into your skin causing you to groan. he quickened his pace, rutting as deep as he could with one goal in mind.

“you’re taking me so well pet,” he cooed, relishing in your high pitched whimpers. “i’m gonna fill you up, and you’re gonna give me a whole litter, understood?”

⊱ CHILDE

there was something about the way you loved his siblings that drove him nuts. he never had to worry about them while he was away on missions. so imagine his surprise when he found out that you and teucer smuggled yourselves into liyue just to see him. the want to scold the two of you, didn’t compare to the swell of emotions he felt when he caught sight of teucer holding on tightly to your hand.

it was well worth the mora to pay the traveler to watch his little brother while he got some alone time with you before going back to work. the way you hummed against his mouth as you slid up and down on his cock in the motel room right outside liyue harbor had his mind reeling as he roughly gripped your hips.

“s'close, baby,” he groans, giving you another sloppy kiss. you rolled your hips a little harder, your hands weaving into his hair as his hold on you started to loosen.

“i’m gonna cum,” fell of his lips in a whisper, and you went to pull back. but, his hands clamped down on your waist, keeping you still as a moan left his mouth. he looked up at you as you squirmed, smiling smugly. “what, princess? gives us something to look forward to for when i return home.”

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l1tw1ck · 1 year

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Aja- Dottore?!

Dottore disguises himself as your boyfriend

Bottom!FTM Dottore x Top!Masc Reader

{Request} | [No AFAB language ver (AO3)]

CW: Dub-Con, Cheating, Oral, Daddy Kink

Words: 680

──────────────────

"Ajax..?" You wipe the sleepiness away from your eyes and look down, a head of pretty ginger locks bobbing up and down your length. "G'morning babe...thought you had a mission."

Ajax blushes deeply, something you think is unusual but you brush it off.

"Mmh...how long have you- shit- been doing this? 'M already gonna–"

Ajax brings his head all the way down, swallowing your spend with a crazed look on his face. He pulls away and covers his mouth, preventing you from seeing his insanely wide smile.

Already naked, he crawls on top of you and sinks down onto your length.

"So early in the morning and you're already this eager, did you have a good dream?" You run your hands along his body, causing him to moan and shiver. "You seem more sensitive too."

"Ahn~ daddy~" He starts to lose his composure from your touch.

You tilt your head, smiling. "Daddy?"

He bites his lip, your amused voice making him squirm.

"I didn't know you wanted to call me that." You flip him onto his back. "You're so cute."

He clenches around you. "Fuc- fuck me~ please~!"

"You're so whiny Aj-" You pause, noticing a strand of blue hair in the midst of Ajax's ginger hair. "Um, did you dye your hair?"

He grabs your cheeks and moves your head to look at him. "Fuck me.."

You pry his mouth open. "My what sharp teeth you have, Ajax." You chuckle. "All the better to bite me with, hm?"

His disguise falls apart completely. "(Name) please..."

"If you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked." You grab his waist and turn him onto his stomach.

Dottore's eyes widen, a large grin on his face.

Digging your nails into his waist, you start fucking him roughly. "Shit- you might be even better than Ajax-"

Dottore's mind quickly turns fuzzy, between the compliment, the marks soon to appear on his waist, and more importantly the feeling of your length inside him and fucking him so hard is enough to make him feel like passing out.

"Gods you're tight- it's like fucking a virgin–" You groan and spank him. "Is this one of your body modifications? Did ya make your pussy all tight and perfect for me, Zandik?"

Just hearing that makes him have an orgasm. Electricity runs through his veins as he squirts over your length, walls continuously spasming around your cock.

"Fuck." You bite your lip, your tone expressing your clear arousal. "Not even Ajax squirts.."

Dottore grins, a strong blush on his cheeks. "Am I be- better~?"

"At this rate, I'm better off dumping him." You chuckle. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? I would be all yours, princess."

He shivers. "Ye- yes~!"

You lift his hips up and drill into him deeper, your cock hitting every spot that makes him go insane. He buries his face in the pillow, feeling like he's on cloud 9.

"I don't know if I'll be able to pull out—" You groan, feeling close. "You feel too fucking good, Zandik-"

"Insi- inside~!" He nods rapidly, about to come again.

You bury your head in his neck, biting down hard enough to draw blood as the two of you come simultaneously. Dottore desperately milks your cock for more, euphoria flooding through his body from being creampied by you.

You reluctantly pull out, watching in awe as your cum flows out of him with his cunt tightening around nothing. You get up off the bed and check the time on your phone, noticing a missed message from Ajax.

You open the text.

"We should break up."

You scoff. "I never expected him to be the type to break up over text. Oh well." You shrug and place your phone back on the side table.

"I'll start a bath." You ruffle Dottore's hair and leave for the bathroom.

He turns onto his back and plugs his cunt with his fingers, not wanting to lose any more of your cum.

A wide grin grows on his face, kidnapping the 11th was worth all the trouble.

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wyvernne · 6 months

Text

see you through til the day’s end (rewrite) teaser

taking a quick study break to post this for y’all. i have not read over it again nor has it been edited, so forgive me for any errors. i know a lot of you are also dealing with final exams, so good luck, and remember to take care of yourselves!!

————-

It was a stupid way to get caught. You’re not sure if it was the cold that dumbed you down, dulled your senses so gravely.

You slipped. That’s all it took. A single misstep is going to cost you your life.

What was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance on the growing Fatui encampments has quickly become the site of the last moments of your life.

You sigh. What a pathetic way to die. The soldiers did quite a number on you, too. You’re sure you have at least a concussion. Maybe a few broken ribs.

You tug halfheartedly on your restraints. The Fatui are no strangers to taking captives. Of course they know how to keep one tied down.

“Oh? What little mouse fell into the trap?” You freeze. It’s a voice you’ve only heard once before.

Your heart thumps sickeningly in your chest for a beat before you raise your head. It’s… a different one. A little older, but still a young man.

Dottore smiles at you. His face is entirely obscured by his mask, save for his eerie, chilling grin.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of officially meeting before,” you offer. You try not to sound afraid. Your heartbeat gives you away, certainly. You’re fucked. You’re so fucked.

Dottore’s smile never changes. “Is that so? You seem quite familiar.” He tilts his head. “Ah. Perhaps it’s the scent of the Abyss. It does quite remind me of that young man.”

He must be talking about the eleventh. You grit your teeth. “You must be mistaken.”

“Surely not,” Dottore replies pleasantly. He’s taking his sweet time getting to the point, really.

“Ah, that’s it!” He snaps his fingers dramatically, as if he’s suddenly remembered a particularly amusing factoid. “You’ve been in the company of a certain young winery owner before, too.”

A chill slips down your spine. You maintain your smile. “I’m merely a distant associate.”

Dottore’s doesn’t even grace you with a response, and the silence makes your heart beat faster.

You continue speaking, struggling to keep your voice steady. “I’m flattered that a lord harbinger himself is even gratifying me with his time.”

Dottore guffaws, doubling over in laughter. “Ah! So much spunk. It’s refreshing to have a subject who isn’t cowering in fear. How exciting.”

His laughter dies down abruptly. It’s just as chilling as when it began.

“Shall we run a little impromptu experiment?” he asks. Bile rises in your throat. You’d rather just have a swift end, really. Who knows what kind of circumstances Dottore will keep you alive under.

He draws a knife from his belt. It’s… it’s far more mundane than you thought. At the very least, it seems like he won’t be injecting you with some strange substance. “It’s a pity I don’t have my laboratory equipment with me here… but I supposed we’ll just need to make do. After all, the process is the fun of it.”

“Process,” you repeat, stupidly. It’s too cold, and your head was hit too hard. Your brain isn’t working like it should. You— you should be planning some grand escape. Instead you can barely follow the conversation happening between you.

“Do you know how much blood is in the human body?” he asks, spinning the knife carelessly in his palm.

You manage a dry laugh. “I haven’t measured. Don’t tell me you treat all your hostages with such hospitality?”

“How arrogant,” he scoffs. “You’re merely the delicious morsel of cheese. The real prize has yet to show itself.”

What the fuck is he on about?

He pulls something out of his pocket with his free hand. You spoke too soon.

You jerk against the restraints reflexively at the sight. A small vial. He pops the stopper with practiced ease, dribbling the viscous liquid over the length of the blade.

He pulls you up against him, sliding an arm around you. It’s like you’ve been already been drugged, your mind slow to comprehend what’s happening. His words keep ringing in your head. “You’ve a little more blood in you than… say, six and a half bottles of wine.”

And then there’s a sharp blow to your back, sending white hot pain jolting through your body.

You gasp, as if the air has been knocked from your lungs. The wheezing, wet sobs that rip from your lungs shake your body, but it hardly compares to the searing ache in your back. Dottore smiles. “I wouldn’t move so much, dear. Unless you’d like me to sever your spinal cord.”

He jerks his arm up, lifting you with the sheer force of his movement. He’s playing a dangerous game, cutting into you so blindly, so close to your spine—

You choke on the thought. He doesn’t care.

You don’t scream. Can’t. It’s like the air around you has been sucked away, and you can’t seem to get a single breath down. The only thing that comes from your mouth is a horrible, strangled gurgle.

He laughs, pulling the dagger out with ease. You sag, eyes wide. Move. Do something. Fight back.

You’re still gasping, choking on nothing. What is the point? Of this? Of any of it?

Dottore chuckles, wiping the dagger haphazardly on your shirt. “I guess you do bleed like we do. Shall we continue?”

You’re bleeding too much too fast. You can see it starting to pool around your feet, blossoming out in the snow.

You jerk against your restraints, throwing your knee up with a shout. You catch Dottore in the stomach, but he hardly reacts to your blow. He leans closer, so close you can feel his breath on your face.

“How impudent,” he mutters, smashing the hilt of the knife into your temple. A shock of pain shoots through your head, and you bite down to silence a sob.

Why is he wasting his time on you? Your thoughts feel hazy. Maybe it’s just pain for the sake of it.

Pain for the sake of it.

Why can’t you catch your breath? You’re teary, but still, no sound can form in your throat. You feel like you’re suffocating.

An agent materializes behind him, kneeling obediently.

“Didn’t I say to leave me to my work?” Dottore huffs, exasperated. He’s speaking so flippantly, like someone just interrupted his daily newspaper reading.

You can’t tell how deep the wound is like this. It’s— it’s long.

You have… minutes, maybe, until you’ve lost too much. There’s no fighting your way out of this. There’s no winning here.

You barely catch the last wisps of conversation.

“…Forgive me, lord harbinger. The Tsaritsa has sent a message.”

Dottore clicks his tongue in annoyance, tossing the dagger into the snow as he turns away. “Well, I’ve lost interest, regardless. Lucky little you.”

The agent slices the restraints down with a swift movement. You crumple to the ground, gasping desperately for air. Dottore starts away from you, but then stops and smiles over his shoulder. “Your life is ticking away, you know.”

You barely register his words. Every second matters, now. You clamber unsteadily to your feet. Despite the freezing snow you’ve started to sweat, your muscles trembling with the effort of holding yourself up.

You take a stumbling step backwards. Not a single Fatuus makes a move to stop you. They watch you with their robotic, empty gazes. You take another, and then turn on your heel and run.

It hurts. It hurts like death. But you won’t win a fight here, and Dottore is bitterly right. Five minutes, at most. Five minutes before you’ve lost too much blood.

Your movements are sluggish and stilted, and the world seems to teeter on your vision. Like hell you’ll let yourself die without putting up a fight.

It’s only a few yards to the cliff side. Water rushes past you and you sway for a moment, nearly losing your balance.

You feel ill. This rush of adrenaline won’t last you much longer, not with how badly he’s cut you. Not with how much this hurts.

It’s a long drop. You know better than anyone. Still, you launch yourself forward, feet slipping on the last rock, and plummet into the raging water below. If you’re going to lose your life, you’ll lose it to the torrents of nature. Not to some damned harbinger’s passing fancies.

———————————

You’ve broken… something. It’s hard to tell at this point, even as you drag yourself onto the snowy banks of the river. Everything fucking hurts. It’s a miracle you didn’t split your skull in half on the rocks below, although the intense throb in your right ankle says you didn’t make it out entirely unscathed. Thankfully it’s cold enough, and you’ve lost enough blood. The bitter ache of any broken bones seems dulled entirely.

You can see the fading lights of Dawn Winery in the distance, but you’ve lost your gamble. You have minutes left, at most. You close your eyes.

You’re going to die here, bleeding out in the snow. Pathetic. To survive the Abyss only to die like a drowned rat.

You’re tired. So, so tired.

Even in this unbearable cold you feel sleep calling you, soothing you from your wounds and fatigue.

It would be so easy, just to let go.

You open your mouth, but all that comes out is a drawn, shrill gasp, drowned out by the sound of the waterfall behind you. Fucking hell.

One chance. That’s all you have.

It takes tremendous effort to get your tongue in the right position. You suck in air desperately, flinching at the shock that travels up from your ribs, and blow.

It’s a weak sound, at first, but it’s all you have.

Luckily, her hearing is better than any human’s.

It takes… twenty seconds, maybe. Thirty at most. You hear her shrieks overhead, having spotted her prey. But she’s no ordinary bird. You’re thankful for that, at least.

She vanishes again, and you’re left alone in the snow.

You jolt, startled. You nearly fell asleep. But you can’t. Not now. Just a little longer.

It feels like an eternity. You can’t feel your hands or feet anymore. All that’s left is a dull ache, and each breath you take feels like an enormous amount of effort.

In. Out. In. Out. Stay awake. Stay awake.

Finally, there’s a murmur of voices, the thumping of feet along the ground. Hands coming up to lift you from the snowy bank. You can’t focus well. Spots dance beneath your eyelids, and your breathing feels fluttery and faint.

“Stay awake, now,” One of the voices whispers. You’d know it anywhere. The warmth, the scent. Diluc.

‘Sorry’ you want to say. The words don’t come. Nothing comes, after that. Just darkness.

#hoping this will be posted very soon y’all #also subject to change because i’m still undecided about some things #wyvernne’s ramblings #diluc ragnvindr #genshin fanfic #diluc fanfic #genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr fanfiction #dottore #hurt/comfort #cw: violence

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vanillacreambunny · 5 months

Text

words: 1063

warnings: dottore but not (it's a segment), probably ooc, most likely a ton of plot holes, mentions of experimentation

notes: I contemplated posting this because I'm nervous, but I mustered up the courage to do so. I haven't written for Genshin Impact before. Maybe I'll write something proper eventually.

I was just thinking about Dottore and what would happen if he made another segment after Sumeru, and if that segment escaped with a former test subject. I don't even know if that's possible lol.

This is just a scene that came to mind, and I wrote it.

Sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors ♥

The metal clasp breaks as he yanks the earring from his lobe, its jagged edge ripping through his ear. In an instant, the connection is severed, the voice in his head fading out and leaving him alone with his thoughts for the first time since his creation. The silence is both unsettling and a relief, though a part of him resists, for once questioning his own judgment. His gaze flickers to you, the neon glow catching your eyes in the darkness long enough to give him pause. There is no time to dwell on the vial that rests in the palm of his hand; it’s a useless distraction—a flaw in his existence.

Without further delay, he throws the vial onto the ground with more force than necessary, the glass shattering beneath his boot. Bright blue liquid stains his feet and seeps into the wooden floorboards.

He almost mourns the loss.

His creator breathed life into him for the sole purpose of his research. He can understand the reasoning behind his conception; however, the scales did not tip in his favor. Orders were given, and he was meant to follow without question, a mere puppet in the grand scheme of things. He may be one segment of a whole, but his mind is far too great to be squandered. Those who came before him lacked his fortitude, all too happy to waste away for a man who could care less about whether they lived or died. He learned from their past failures and swore he would be more than a means to an end.

“Doctor . . . Dottore . . .” It’s almost comical how easily you draw him from his thoughts; he has yet to decide if he finds it amusing or worrisome. He’s stuck with you for now, he might as well humor you in the meantime. “Is everything okay?”

“Never better,” he drawls, folding his arms behind his back. An air of uncertainty hangs over you, and the hint of fear in your voice as you utter his name does not go unnoticed by him. Of course, you fear him—that is a given. Your concern for him is not. There are not many things in this world that perplex him, and somehow you do.

The boat lurches forward, and your face pales considerably, sweat beading on your brow.

“You, on the other hand, look like you’ve seen better days.”

His gaze lingers on you, observing how your frail human body trembles from the cold, a small reminder of your mortality. You’re not properly dressed for the bitter Snezhnayan weather, and he wonders how well you’ll fare in such conditions. The cabin provides shelter, albeit not enough to drive away the eternal chill that permeates the region.

Logically, he knows you are worthless to him. You’re weak—a liability. He should dispose of you, otherwise you’ll drag him down, and he can’t afford that. There is no reason he shouldn’t, so why does he falter? Your frightened expression flashes in his mind’s eye, and he recalls the sound of your pitiful sobs as he bent you to his will, the memory leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Except it wasn’t him, not really, and he’s oddly comforted by this fact. Besides, he gave you his word; the least he can do is see you to Fontaine. He’ll simply have to tolerate your presence until then.

He steps forward.

You take a step back, and he chuckles despite himself.

You’re so insufferably human.

“I believe I have something that belongs to you.” He reaches into his coat pocket, procuring your Vision from within. “A peace offering of sorts, perhaps?”

Your eyes brighten, flitting between him and the Vision resting in his hand. Slowly, you reach out, the pendant gleaming as your fingers caress its surface. Even beneath his gloves he can feel the warmth radiating off it, and the way you smile softly in return, your gaze lingering on him longer than you ever dared, is much preferable to what he remembers. He barely registers your mumbled words of thanks, preoccupied with the drop of your shoulders as the tension eases from your muscles, and how you linger in his presence instead of pulling away.

The light of your Vision emphasizes the dark circles under your eyes; your cheeks are windburned and lips cracked and bloody. The smile on your face looks out of place when your expression is otherwise solemn—haunted—betraying your emotions. You haven’t complained thus far or requested his assistance, picking up the slack with a determination that surprised him as you trudged through the ice and snow and managed to keep pace with him. It’s a miracle you survived experimentation. Your files painted a different picture, one of a pitiful and broken test subject to be neutralized .

Has luck shone down upon you or is there more to you than meets the eye? Perhaps he can put that theory to the test.

“Sleep.” It’s not a request but a demand, and you don’t argue. “Doctor’s orders.”

With a heavy sigh you drop into bed; all too eager it seems. A couple minutes pass and your breathing evens out as you drift off to sleep, your Vision clutched to your chest. Beneath the blankets, you shiver, your breath fanning out in front of you with each rise and fall of your chest. What a shame it would be to have you succumb to the cold so soon. You’re far more entertaining alive. For the moment, at least.

He drapes his coat over you, and you instinctively snuggle into its warmth.

You need it more than he does.

The floorboards creak underfoot as he paces back and forth. His mind races, his thoughts louder in the quiet, and he growls in frustration. He’s never felt so restless, his hands itching to move, to create, to turn his ideas into a reality. Even a piece of paper and pen would do—he has neither. In Fontaine he’ll have access to all that more, but the desire that burns within him is both great and painful, threatening to consume him in his entirety.

Your snores break the silence, and he glowers in your direction. The sound aggravates his already frayed nerves, and so he counts them to alleviate some of the pressure.

It’s going to be a long night.

A very long night, indeed.

#genshin impact #dottore #noelle writes

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astrequa · 2 years

Text

#. “Let me take care of you”

[♡]Featuring: Albedo, Diluc, Shenhe & Dottore (w/ gn!reader)

About.

Taking care a sick s/o

A/notes.

Should be focusing on studies rn... I'm sorry for Shenhe's part T-T,, Also apologize for Dottore's part, I'm bad when it comes to kissing

📌 . . . REQUEST INFO & RULES // MAIN MASTERLIST // SUBMIT ASK

[#1] Albedo ༉‧₊˚.

Albedo will prepare a potion for you, but only if you have enough faith in the potion. It's reasonable given that the last time he asked you to test it, you turned into slime. He won't allow that happen again, especially now that you're unwell rn. Albedo will bring Barbara to you to assess if your problem is serious or not. Once he is certain that it will not endanger your life, he will remain by your side, taking care of what he is supposed to.

"Have some rest, love," Albedo said as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "You should as well…" Mumbles can be heard coming from you, and a faint smile can be seen over your face as your eyelids flutter close. "I assumed you were already sleeping, no?" "How can I when there's a handsome alchemist right next to me?" He chuckles at your response.

[#2] Diluc ༉‧₊˚.

Diluc WILL use his family name to look for the best doctor at Mondstadt. If there weren't any, he will ask for Liyue's doctor to come and check out his beloved. Same with Albedo, won't leave you unsupervised.

"You should be sleeping right now." "Luc… It's just a light head; I'm not dying." He hums as he walks over to the shared bed and hands you a glass of water. "Go back to sleep after you finish it," you sigh defeatingly; there's no point debating with him when it relates to your health. He's just scared of losing you.

[#3] Shenhe ༉‧₊˚.

Cloud retainer. When she notices you're blazing hot, the first thing that springs to her is Cloud retainer. The said adeptus has been taking care of her since that occurrence, including the time she falls unwell. Cloud retainer will perform this one technique that will instantly restore her health, so she reached out for Cloud retainer without hesitation.

"One has been summoned and wanted to know the reason behind this" The mighty bird fluttered her wings. "They're scorching hot, do what you do to me to her." You gripped Shenhe's hand hard and gave her a worried look. "One does not feed humans, mortal, step closer" Shenhe draws you in closer, as smoke begins to form around you in an instant. "This is the only thing One can do; give them some rest, Shenhe." The bird said before flying off.

[#4] Dottore ༉‧₊˚.

Dottore may appear cold and hopeless in a relationship, and you may have felt the same way before beginning a relationship with him. Welp, You got it both correctly and wrong. He is a loving person as well as a passionate lover. Things will be flipped upside down when it comes to your illness.

"NO WAY! I'M NOT DRINKING THAT!" "You should keep your voices down, and sure, you will drink this." "Dottore, that's a potion you prepared in the lab." You groan at Dottore's attempt to heal you by pointing out the blue shimmering liquid he's carrying. "You drank this the previous time, and I can assure you it's not harmful." He sipped the mixture before approaching you.

"I… WHAT?! WHEN DID YOU—" You felt a hand grip you tightly and a delicate lip contact yours. His kisses were gentle and warm. You felt a liquid slowly sliding down your neck and tried to break the kiss, but Dottore doesn't appear to be letting you go anywhere right now. Your bodies crushed against the wall, breathing fiercely as your lips pressed together. He breaks the kiss once the liquid has been effectively transmitted to you. Allowing you to take a breath after the forcible kiss. "That should do it," Sly said, smirking over Dottore's face and giving you the nearest water bottle.

ⓒkoshiisu. Do not copy/translate/post my works on other platforms.

— Reblogs, like and comments are much appreciated !

#koshiisu.work #albedo x reader #diluc x reader #shenhe x reader #dottore x reader #Genshin Impact x reader #Genshin x female reader #Genshin x Male reader #Genshin x gender neutral reader #Genshin x fem!reader #Genshin x gn!reader #Genshin x male!reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x fem!reader #genshin imagines

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mellowwillowy · 2 years

Text

- Specimen Girl -

Yan!Dottore×Fem Reader

Dead Dove : Do Not Eat

Yes, it's all based off the lyrics to Specimen Girl's song lol. Also I aint a medical student so let's just pretend what Dottore does is scientifically true lol

Gore description (maybe), delusional Dottore, reader got kidnapped and 'operated' by Dottore (eyes gouged, arms and legs numbed down), necrophilia but you can almost ignore it if you stick with Dottore's delusions, cannibalism (eating your heart), suicide (you and Dottore)

some comfort: Sandrone tried to avenge you but Dottore said bye-bye first lol (don't worry she'll dishonor Dottore's death with Columbina for you instead). I've also toned down lots of things and scenes so yeah, I've warned you so don't come at me

Will mention reader's past a bit near the end of the story.

Word Counts 4.1k

01・Let’s gouge out your eyes

00・that way, you won’t look at anyone else

Dottore's finger dances on your face, his thumb slowly caressing the skin around your left eye. You try to break free from your restraint but fail nonetheless. Bruises formed on both your wrist and ankle, burning from the friction of the restraints whenever you struggle. Your eyes dilate in fear and pain as Dottore presses his scalpel on your lower eyelid.

"Say, Senior, why did you stare at that bastard so lovingly?"

He presses the blade even deeper now, drawing out blood from the cut. You scream from the burning sensation, writhing under his restraint which earns a chiding from Dottore.

"Ah ah ah. If you won't stop wriggling, the operation will not be neat anymore" he chides you as he brings his palm to your tear-stained cheek, blowing wind to your eyes as though he's mocking your pitiful state.

"W-why, wh-why me? Lo-lord Ha-Ha-Harb-Harbinger, I-I have ne-never even o-once shown a-any-"

Dottore shushes you down. He knows what you were trying to say. That you have been nothing but a good citizen. That you have never even once disregarded Tsaritsa nor opposed her rule.

"Like I said earlier, this," Dottore presses the scalpel inside your eye socket, cutting down the nerves of your eyes as you scream in pain "is only your punishment because you've been giving your attention to someone that's not me"

Each second feels like you are being skinned alive, flapping like how a fish would be on the ground. Dottore slowly circles the scalpel around your eyeball, cutting every nerves it can find. Your left eye has already lost its sight the moment the blade cuts one of the nerves, blood flowing out like a waterfall.

"Aw! Don't leave me just yet! What's the point of this punishment if you are not here with me?" Dottore bites your lip, drawing out blood from it. You can feel the steel taste of it and it makes you feel sick. Your stomach can't even tie any knots anymore at this rate.

Dottore humms down a tune as though he is trying to calm you down. It's the tune you used to hum during your study in ʏɿoƚimɿob and almost everyone knows that it's your little song that you'll use to ease people down.

And not for a maniac humming it.

Dottore pulls out your left eyeball easily, observing it closely before he kisses it and shoves it for you to see. Better remember how it looks like before you can no longer see anymore right?

"Go on, observe how beautiful your eye is Senior. Oh? Maybe you should also..." Dottore places your eyeball right next to his beautiful ruby eyes "remember how your Junior's eyes look like" Dottore grins maniacally.

Without being said, you've long memorized your captor's appearance. Ruby eyes, teal hair, and visible sharp pointed teeth whenever he talks or grins.

And how red his tongue is as he licks your eyeball.

Time's up and all you see next is how Dottore places your eyeball into a container with fluids in it. Probably to preserve your eyeball. And what about the other jars? Oh god no. Why did you think about the other jar when you were trying to-

"I won't allow you to avert your thoughts away, Senior" Dottore kisses your right eye, slightly licking it as though your eyes are nothing but sweet candies for him. Again, the scalpel comes into sight and

"So please bear with it, Senior ♡"

The last thing you tried to focus on was his pointed teeth that were revealed as he grinned.

You scream atop of your lungs and drowned into oblivion after that.

04・Let’s cut off your hands and feet

00・that way, you won’t touch anyone else

You might not be able to see anymore but even you can make out where you are right now. A bed. You can feel something tight wrapping around your eyes. Bringing your shaky hands toward your eyes, you can feel just how empty your eye sockets are now.

It hurts.

You cry out but what comes out was not crystal clear tears but instead, blood.

Why must you feel this pain again even in this world?

What had you done wrong to him? You knew he was a harbinger and you had never even once insulted him, right? You cry to yourself before realizing that you are no longer restrained. Run.

And so you run, bumping toward everything but still manage to reach the door. You frantically turn the door knob and swing the door open, running toward the empty hall despite bumping into lots of things.

And you bump into a man. It's not him right? Judging from their groans, it's probably someone else.

"H-help! Help me! P-pl-please! I- I, so-someone" your hands frantically try to find their way toward the man's, looking for support.

Oh if only you were still able to see, you could have seen how the pale the man was as he shook in fear. Even so, the man stayed silent and

Splat

You feel something... gushes toward your face. Some kind of fluid. It doesn't take long for you to identify what it was after the fluids find their way toward your tongue.

The man's body slumped down and you threw yourself backward. What just happened? You don't know, you can't see anything!

Losing your own balance, you fell down on your butt. Still in shock, you frantically feel the blood on your face. Realization hits you and you realize, the man has been killed in front of you. You scream in horror as you wipe your face frantically, smearing the blood even more. It's getting harder to distinguish which is yours and which is his.

"Senior"

Dottore's voice cut your mind in half immediately. You twitch in fear, this man is still here with you. You can feel him walking toward you, his footsteps are not heavy but sharp nonetheless. He stops in front of you, crouching down, he yanks you by your ankle toward him.

"Come to think of it..." his fingers slowly caressing your ankle "I haven't punished your feet too hm?" Horrors shot inside your body. No no no. You have enough of being blind, now to become an immobile porcelain doll altogether? You shook your head vigorously, a bunch of incoherent babbles of begging won't stop him.

"And this hand..." you cry even louder as he yanks you up to your feet "I shouldn't allow it to touch anybody else anymore right?" He gives the back of your palm a kiss "Mmh, let's proceed with it now"

He drags you toward somewhere you don't even wish to know. Smells of antiseptics and blood invade your nose. It's your biggest nightmare now. You thrash under his grip but it barely does anything, especially with how weak your pitiful state is now.

He lays you down on a chair this time, your hands and legs taped onto something plushy. Dottore hums the tune again. Instead of making you feel better, it only makes your stomach churn in fear again. Clinking noises, pokings, and pricking your skin, you feel how the foreign fluids enter your body.

It's not anesthesia to your demise.

Left wrist, right wrist, left ankle, right ankle.

You feel your whole body boiling in pain. Your scream never bothers him as it's much more regarded as music for his ear instead. Your eyes wound reopen as you cry, blood flowing out like a waterfall.

It didn't take long for you to finally choke on your own sobs, how you can no longer feel your arms and legs.

How you no longer wriggle in pain and fear.

Dottore kisses your sweating forehead as he wipes all the blood off your face.

"You did great, Senior ♡"

01・Why did you, although I am here,

00・sleep with other men?

Dottore's eyes did not leave your side even once. Watching every movement like how a predator would. His gaze lingered on your half-exposed chest. Dottore didn't like you showing your skin but he had to admit that your dress did a great job with it.

Your face remained beautiful in his eyes even with the mask covering half of it. You did notice how he was gazing over you despite having his eyes covered by his mask but you brushed it off. Besides, you had a better thing to care for, which was the company in front of you. Oh, how his arm found its way to your waist, pulling you closer to him as you two whispered to each other seductively.

The alcohol definitely helps you two loosen up to each other, sharing kisses before making your way to any chamber available.

What you thought to be a private moment with the man was shattered down. Dottore was in fact, there, inside the room. His eyes were redder than usual, watching you two in fuming rage. Where he was is none of your concern, what matters is that he was there.

A few days after that, the man was announced missing. His mutilated remnants were soon found floating by the river.

03・That’s the punishment for the crime you committed

00・I’m not letting you go anywhere anymore

But he can't do that to you. Instead, he'll break down anything of yours instead of blowing a death to you directly. Yes, your punishment would be way easier than theirs. He wants you to be with him after all.

― ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐʸ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵐᵉⁿ ―

00・I'll drive a picket into your chest

00・and put you inside a case with a glass door

But, even so, the temptation to learn your heart remains there. No matter how many years it has been, he still wishes to learn how your heart works. What makes you skip? What makes it beat so fast? How does it pump your blood? You wouldn't mind him poking it every now and then right? He'll just pull your heart out and learn it for a moment before returning it back to its respective place.

00・I’ll place that in my room

00・and observe you every day

There has never been a moment where no one sees him without you next to him. Either on a wheelchair or carried by him or his clones. Isn't that nice? This way, you two will never be separated anymore!

He will never be bored observing you who was sitting motionless. Oh, you are the most beautiful doll he has ever seen! Even Sandrone furrowed her eyebrows as though envying his precious creation while Columbina spins out curses toward him because of how she would never be able to match your beauty.

03・Each time I look at you, I feel shivers

00・and the blood in this body boils

Even today too, you can feel Dottore's gazes linger all over you. How he loves to move your hands or legs, how he loves to kiss your cheek while lightly biting it with his sharp teeth. To draw out noises from you, that's all he's asking for. For someone who can't move or see, you surely survived longer than he expected to.

Not like you can do anything after all

04・You are already only mine

06・Yes, you are my Specimen Girl

On some occasions, Dottore will cover your face with a veil, only allowing him to lift it and observe your eternal beauty. Your bandages used to be drenched in red wine but it seems like you have finally accepted everything.

The bandage is pristine white, meaning you are no longer dwelling on your past traumas, reopening the wounds with your tears.

00・That’s right, I’ll preserve you in that liquid

11・That way, you won’t rot away

But this is weird, you've been awfully quiet recently. It's not weird for you to stay silent for almost a whole day but even so, he would never fail in earning a groan from you. He also notices how your skin started to crack up like how an old porcelain doll would.

He places his head on your chest, listening to any kind of heartbeats or it pumping blood. Not a single beat was heard. And you, on the other hand, start to crack even more. Are you a human, or a doll?

Have you ever been a human in the first place?

No human would have their skin cracking like this, and yet your flesh and heart are real. What and who are you? Dottore ponders to himself before deciding to craft some kind of potion for you. One that a living one should never be exposed to.

"Don't worry Senior, this will help you"

00・Silent as the grave, that unique scent

00・arouses me once more

You are as silent as a porcelain doll would be. Some kind of sick, familiar scent is now all over you. And yet, he does not make any complaints at all, instead, he... loves it. The mixture of something rotten and the foreign fluids inside your guts and on your skin, he never has enough of it. It's sickening as much as it is addicting. Sandrone and Columbina's distaste grows more and more even though they can't do anything about it.

As much as they hate his treatment toward you, they have to agree that your beauty was in fact, preserved as how it used to be. Flawless if they discount the small cracks on your skin.

They hate him but what can they do? They have promised you and one should never break their promise. Never.

00・Your now unmoving body

00・I defile without paying any price

You didn't move but he could hear you coming to life again. Has he succeeded in bringing you back to life? Have you finally found your will to live again? Countless nights of learning your heart and brain are finally paid off.

The blood doesn't taste like it used to anymore but who is he to judge? As long as it's you...

Dottore hugs you tightly, his hands traveling to somewhere he shouldn't be. His kisses are greedy and rough, teeth ripping your lip as he tastes your blood in his mouth.

He intertwines his fingers with yours as he pushes his kisses deeper into you. His tongue explores your mouth, clashing with something familiar. Has your tongue always been like this?

―ₐₐₕ, ₙₒw ᵢ fₑₑₗ ₗᵢₖₑ ₑₐₜᵢₙg yₒᵤ ᵤₚ―

The frilly dress is ripped open as his eyes won't stop devouring every inch of your body. Your heart is beating, for him, for him, for him!

Angelic moans can be heard as his finger traces your delicate skin before resting inside your lacy panties. Just because you have found your will to live again doesn't mean you have also gotten yourself a new body. In fact, you still couldn't move at all. Even so, Dottore still tries his best to earn any kind of reaction from you, how your head twitches in pleasure as he teases that one spongy spot inside you.

Oh if only you still have control of your arms and legs, you would probably trap him with your leg and choke him to death.

He has to feel what you felt and yet to your own dismay, all he's doing right now is pleasuring you. Hell knows you wouldn't want him to feel the same pleasure.

His lips found their way again, to your cold lips, neck, shoulder, chest, tummy, and...

"The night is still long Senior, so please bear with it okay?"

00・Your body gone cold

00・when I touch it with my hands I feel shivers

You lay there next to him with the moonlight illuminating all the bruises he made. He can't help it, to pull you closer and closer to him as he pumps himself in and out inside of you. He will always love the sensation of adjusting your limbs to him, giving him a sense of control toward you as he brings your hand to his neck. He knew you wanted to choke him. Judging by you would occasionally clench your jaw and brought your head close to his neck, trying your best to bite the spot where his vein is connected. You wanted to kill him.

And that is your new resolve to live again.

10・I cut open your chest with a knife

00・I take out your heart and eat it

But this is getting into nerves more than he thought it would.

You've been sitting quietly with an unhinged smile plastered on your face. You who didn't really care for your appearance ask him to dress you up beautifully every day now. How you want to wear frilly puffy dresses, how you want a beautiful lacy blindfold instead of plain white bandages, how you want to wear a long white stocking with frills and bows, how you want him to ornate your head with accessories.

And how you ask him to eat your heart out so that he can just kill you right then and there.

"Cut my chest open and eat my heart out" you lean toward Dottore's ears, whispering of what he had long wanted to do to you.

This is in fact, nothing but just a green light for him to pluck your heart out and eat it on a silver platter now.

Eating it all up as though it's his last meal, drinking up all the blood like it's the world's finest wine to ever exist. Oh how Sandrone and Columbina wished they could just behead Dottore's head and offer it to you.

In the end, not a single bits of your heart remained on the plate. It's all in his guts now.

00・With this, your heart is now mine

06・you won’t be able to love anyone but me

He has done it. He has taken your most important thing which is your heart. Your heart is all his now. Without your heart, you can no longer love anyone nor see the truth. Without your heart, you can no longer feel what it's like to be alive.

Your heart is inside his guts now. The feeling of your heart being one with him is addicting. It's proof that you now are only able to love him and him alone. No one will be able to take your heart away anymore, be it literally or figuratively.

00・I return the rest to the case

00・I place it again by my side

Your heartless body remains beautiful. While you start to crack more and more, he'll always know a way to put a stop to it. But even so, he starts to feel paranoid about you.

Every now and then, he can see you strolling with those flimsy long white gowns around the palace all by yourself, humming the old tune from the Akademiya days.

No matter how many times he breaks your leg, you'll always be seen strolling around the palace.

No matter how many times he cut your vocal chord, you won't stop humming the same tune for others to hear.

He hates it. Your voice is only for him to hear. It's reserved for him and him only. Even so, whenever you lay on the operation table while having your vocal chord destroyed by him, you could still chuckle at him creepily. Sometimes, strings of curses can be heard as well.

Dottore will always receive complaints from the other fellow harbingers, about how the maniacal laughter and curses never end. How footsteps can be heard ringing in the middle of the night, how the tune will be hummed in an eerie way, and how the trickle of blood won't stop dirtying the floor.

And so, he sealed your body inside a crystal glass box. This way, you can no longer roam freely and will forever be sealed next to him, for him to be the only one to see you.

00・I won’t let you go for as long as I live

00・after all, you are my

"Senior," Dottore's fingers dances on your glass box, "You will always be my Senior no matter what"

→・―It’s unforgivable―・→

00・From inside the case

06・Look only at me

00・until I die

No matter how tight he ties your blindfold, he will always feel as though it's loosening up. What will happen if the blindfold is taken off? Will you be looking at someone else with that empty eye socket of yours? He can't allow you to look at anyone else other than him! You are only entitled to look at him until he dies.

No, even after he dies, he will never allow you to look at anyone else. Dottore who feels the knot in his stomach tied even tighter than ever decides to untie it. To untie your blindfold and

00・Aah, but you

00・no longer have eyes

02・After all, that is

―because I gouged them out...―

Therefore, he is greeted by your empty eye sockets. Is it delusion? Dottore slowly inserts his finger inside your eye socket as much as he wishes he doesn't want to. Empty. Ah, he really did gouge it out. The proofs are still in his chamber, placed on his nightstand. That way, he can just take the jar and observe it as he tries to drift himself to sleep. Your beautiful eyes never fail to mesmerize him.

B̶̨̨̳̭͎̝́̒̅̂̄͐͠͝u̷̢͉̼̭̗̎̐͒́̓̍̈̎̽͝ț̶̫̬͓̌̽̀̏̍̓͑̿̉͝ ̴̗̯͇̗̜̟̙͇̗̄́̃ȟ̶̯͐̀̎o̵̻̺̬̦͙̘͑͆͌̅̑̒̔́͘͘w̷̱̗͂̉́͊̎͝ ̶̳̹͕͖͎͖͉̩̱̎̽̈́͛ả̴̝͇͇͍͍̙͇̩͙̯́̋̔̽́̔̚͝b̴̨̛̦̲̩̰̣̲̦̻̆̉̀̀͊̊̎͐̽ọ̸̢̨̡͔͔̮̜͖̀̄́̈́̕ͅu̵̡͖̥̬̤͕̺̓̓͋̈̌͆͋͑̐̚ͅẗ̴͉͚́͐̄ ̶̡̢͉̪͕̥̝͐̄͐͜a̴̛̳̭͔̰̠̎̄̑͛̏͑͝͠ ̵̭͆͑̍ṕ̴̧̥̥̜͖̭̞͇͉̾̀̿̉͐͗͂̒ą̷̨̲̱͈̹̣̘͈͗̔̎͋̀͠i̴͚̜̎͆ŗ̴͙͈͖̝͉͔͙̭̲̀͐̉́ ̶̢͓͍͙̩̺͍͊̈͛̅o̴͈͕̞̩͓͑͒̈́̊͋̓͐͌̏̕͜f̶͔̜̫͔͍̥̓̑̋͘ ̴̧̧͕̞̮̭̠͐͌͆̽̇̍̒̈́͊ȅ̵̤͔̘̥̳̤͓̘̇̋͠y̵̨̱͒̇̍̾è̷̠͉͋́̏̆́̽s̶̹͚̟͕̣̓̑̐́̀̓̏͋͝ ̵̢͕̜͓̩̠̠͙̆͗̈́́͑͂̀̀̒̕ṫ̸̙̣̫̪̜̫͊̌̓h̵̩͊͂a̴̟̯̤̣̼̪͎̠͆̋́̇t̶̨̞͓̤̮̀̽̾̊ ̵̗̜̹̱͔̲͖̙̼̗̆́̅̒͠͠ĺ̴͉͙̀͘o̶̥̟̦͖̯̱͖͌̍̑͐̅ǒ̸̢̞͎̹̜̗̥̱̰͌͌k̸̡̹̮̀s̷̡̪͕͖̭͉͉͈̞̀̀̔̈́̎̾́͋̉̋ ̴̨͍͙̥̰̮̂̃͋̆̕͝ͅļ̶̛͌͌͗̉̄͌̒͜ị̷͚̫̈̕ķ̶̛̳̠̹̳̯̣͙̤̰́̑̓̒͆́̓͝͠ê̷͉̺̘͓̻̜͖͜ͅ ̴̺̳̭̳̫̱̌̓̌̌̃͜ͅh̷̛͚̜̞̬̲̥̪̅̄i̷͎̿̀̆̔̚͜͝͝s̸̜̩̞̣̝̓͆̑̌̄̚͜͠͝?̸̹̲̝͙̞̝̟̌͜

00・I’ll put glass beads in your eyes

02・Let’s make you new eyes

09・What eye color should I choose?

02・That’s right, a red like blood would be fine

But to use some kind of fake eyes would be boring no? And so, a clone of his was burnt down in the incinerator with empty eye sockets.

01・With those beautiful eyes

00・look only at me always

This way, he can feel you staring at him again. No, he will never recreate your eyes even though he can. It'll never be able to match the real one after all. He won't even bother looking for someone to take their eyes because he doesn't want someone else's eyes staring at him and even worse, inside your eye sockets.

04・Only you from now on and always

01・I won’t let you go from my side

He won't repeat the same mistake anymore. To be weak and hopeless as he watched you leave the Akademiya in humiliation, all to the way of being exiled out of Sumeru without anyone protecting you.

You didn't do it. He knew you didn't do it. And yet, no one would believe in you two as though they had been blinded by something. To make things even worse, your little friend was absent during your exile. If only she was there, perhaps she could shield you from the crazy citizens throwing you pebbles and rocks. Maybe that way, you wouldn't trip down from the cliff and be pronounced dead from concussion.

Maybe people wouldn't gawk at your dead body and broken limbs as though you were nothing but an animal. For them to step on your off-positioned limbs, your splattered brains, and your body altogether.

How did you come back to life? He'll never know it. Maybe Sandrone truly had something to do with it after all.

But for now, what matters is that you are here with him.

07・After all, you are mine

09・From now on and always mine

02・Until this body rots away

00・Yes, you are my

『Specimen Girl』

Sandrone's voice rings.

―Only mine―

Sandrone places the gun on the back of Dottore's head. She had had enough of this farce already. She no longer cares about the promise she made to you. She wouldn't mind being selfish for this is her only wish. She will avenge your death by shooting his brains out.

『Only mine』

What she didn't expect is that Dottore would be the one shooting his own jaw, splattering his brains all over Sandrone's pristine dress. His body slumped forward with a thud. He ends his own farce in the end. Is it out of guilt or realization? Did his madness and delusions finally swallow him whole? Even so, Sandrone wastes no time in spitting Dottore's body before stomping and dragging his body to be experimented on in the most inhumane way possible. Columbina too will be there to lend Sandrone her hand.

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

There is another fic (and possibly more in the future) about Dottore x Senior but it might be different than what's mentioned in reader's past

Zandik's Memories, Dormitory (TBA, WIP)

Zandik's Diaries (TBA)

Senior (different but similar nonetheless)

As if for Sandrone's and Columbina's, I don't think I'll be writing for them until there's a request coming in for them lol

Inhumane (TBA)

Dormitory's Lullaby (TBA)

All these fics will be extreme OOC in both lore-wise and characters so proceed with caution.

#yandere fatui #yandere dottore #yandere sandrone #yandere columbina #sandrone #sandrone x reader #columbina #dottore x reader #dottore #genshin x reader #il dottore #dottore x reader smut #il dottore x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers

416 notes · View notes

fatuismooches · 3 months

Note

OMG!! THE STEM STUDENT ZANDIK x ART READER ONE HAS MY HEART AS AN ARTIST AND WRITER 😭😭😭 imagine him growing to appreciate art and once you guys are dating you have trouble hiding sketches of him and he finds them..... I imagine his reaction would be priceless and he would tease you when he realises your embarrassed, secretly keeping the drawings of him in certain places of his lab so that he can always remind himself of how much you love him

You started drawing Zandik way before you two started dating, at first you thought he was simply pretty to look at and draw, but it spiraled to the point where you found yourself doodling his bored expression in class on the side of your papers. It was swiftly erased before your friend could find out. But after you two get together you find yourself drawing him way more often, not just him but you two with each other as well. You don't tell him though because you're aware of his feelings about the arts but also because it may seem strange you have a whole book dedicated to pictures of him. However, considering you are dating the eccentricity which is Zandik it probably really isn't that weird.

When Zandik finally finds your secret stash, he finds your attention to detail rather superb and admirable. You probably also end up drawing stuff he likes (Ruin Machines, tools, ... a variety of desserts) which are also quite a sight to see. He knew you had a skilled hand because there were times in the past when it was necessary to sketch for classes, but he never paid much attention to it. Though the arts isn't a subject of much interest for him, he finds himself intrigued by your skill. And also why you didn't tell him you possessed such a skill.

In the Akademiya, his teasing would be a bit more rough when you drew him ("Perhaps you should put those hands to better use and start working on your assignments... however, I am still looking forward to the fruits of your labor.) But now, Dottore would be a lot more forward ("Drawing me again, my dear? One would think I own these hands of yours, from how they're always itching to draw my likeness, hm?)

Even centuries later, Dottore somehow managed to preserve all of your artwork for himself (even you don't know this, it's his little secret perhaps.) He loves to see how much your creations and skills have grown since way back then, and he's truly excited to see how far you'll continue to go.

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #reader has like... a dozen sketchbooks bc each one is dedicated to a segment #they get such big egos over whether they have more drawings than the other so u try to keep it balanced

87 notes · View notes

jessamine-rose · 1 year

Text

༻ The Golden Ratio ༺

Another deleted scene from Chemistry which I just had to recycle. May you all enjoy this fluffy, non-yandere take on Dottore and the science of love (≡^∇^≡)

♡ 0.9k words under the cut ♡

“Zandik, look over here! Aren’t these specimens remarkable?”

“Yes, they are,” he replies dismissively.

You frown, turning away the patch of Rukkhashava Mushrooms. Your classmate is still tinkering with the Ruin Guard, completely absorbed in his research.

“Liar. You didn’t even look at it.”

He doesn’t even try to deny it. “Can’t you see that I’m busy? If you allow me to finish my research, I can promise my full attention later.”

“But that’s what you said with the last sample,” you point out. “Is it too much to stop and admire the scenery for a few minutes? You are utterly rigid.”

Though you wouldn’t have fallen for him otherwise.

Zandik gives you an unamused look. “And you are too carefree, though I may recognize such childlike curiosity as befitting of your Darshan.”

You give him a bright smile. “Thank you for the acknowledgement!”

Was that a compliment or an insult? Either way, Zandik has been observing you!

As of now, your research expeditions have yielded little progress in your relationship. Your crush remains distant, focused on his work, at odds with your research approach. Still, you are thankful for the opportunity to witness him in action. To spend time with him.

Your own research is sufficient. You sit on the grass and watch Zandik, committing his visage to memory. After a few minutes, he breaks the silence.

“I am intrigued,” he says, “by your attitude to my research. The Sages always scold me whenever I express my fascination in these ancient machines.”

His research notes are neatly arranged beside his tools. The pages are marked with meticulous reports and detailed drawings. His enthusiasm practically bleeds into the paper.

You approach him, uncaring of your close proximity to the Ruin Guard.

“Well, I must disagree with them. No matter how dangerous those machines can be, they are still something to study. One might claim they are no different from my research specimens.”

“Ah, yes. Your little plants and animals,” he replies, glancing at your research notes. “And why do you research those subjects, may I ask?”

“Should there be an important reason?” you ask, adjusting your Amurta scarf. “It’s because they’re beautiful. Simple as that.”

Beautiful, mysterious, vital to this world.

“I did not take you for the poetic type,” he muses. “Anything can be deemed beautiful from one’s subjective perspective.”

“That is true,” you agree, “like your interest in the Ruin Machines. But objectively speaking, there are mathematical theories which can explain our prevalent standards of beauty. The golden ratio, for instance.”

“Ah, yes. That old thing.” A confident smile appears on his face. “I’ve read a thesis about the golden ratio in relation to facial aesthetics. Apparently, I am a good example.”

“Not a surprise. Many people find you handsome.”

“And what about you?” Zandik resumes eye contact, scarlet eyes tinged with amusement. “Do you agree with that conclusion?”

Your cheeks flush. “W-Well…yes, since you claim that your face fits the golden ratio.”

“That is an inadequate basis for your answer.” He stands in front of you and caresses your cheek, preventing you from looking away. “Why don’t you personally test that hypothesis? I will do the same with your face.”

He’s so close.

“All…all right.” You stay still and focus on his face, making the mental measurements.

His facial proportions are more or less congruent with the golden ratio. There are some details which may serve as basis for a counterargument, however.

His bangs obstruct your complete analysis. You’ve always adored his messy hairstyle, those stray curls which complement his character. You know from previous interactions that his hair is soft to the touch.

There is also his boyish, sharp-toothed grin which is equal parts manic and mischievous. His calm, close-mouthed smile is more aesthetically pleasing, but it lacks his unabashed ardor. Nevertheless, you are captivated with both versions, especially when those smiles are directed at you.

His eyes. They are like red suns, always bright and intense. There is a fascinated gleam in his gaze whenever he comes across something new.

It is beautiful. All of him.

His voice is what brings you back to reality.

“I am done with my measurements,” he announces.

“I…I see.” You give him a nervous smile, acutely aware that he is still touching your face. You’re blushing; can he tell? “So am I. Why don’t you go first?”

“You are beautiful.”

What?

Zandik taps his fingers on your cheek, tracing lines on your face. He’s close—too close, your flustered expression trapped in his ruby eyes. His expression is serious yet neutral, as though he is merely studying a specimen.

“A…according to which theory?” you stutter. “The golden ratio?”

He smiles at you. “I am speaking from my own personal opinion. If the laws of nature say otherwise, I must disagree and prove them wrong.”

A specimen worthy of his full attention.

Words fail you. What can you possibly say after receiving such a compliment?

Ever the diligent scholar, Zandik lets go of you and returns to the Ruin Guard.

“That is all I have to say,” he says. He picks up a rusty cog and takes notes. “And what of your observation? Do you find me beautiful, ______?”

You remain in your spot. “...Yes, I do.”

His tone is smug. “Objectively or subjectively?”

Honestly, why did you fall for someone like him?

“I’m not sure,” you admit.

“I see.” Zandik gives you one last smile, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Let us continue this experiment later. I am not one to be satisfied with ambiguous results.”

♡

This was originally written for the second chapter of Chemistry, but it felt too “close” for Dottore and Assistant! Darling’s early relationship. So I just edited and moved it to the last few chapters. But I couldn’t waste the lovely thought of Dottore’s s/o falling for the parts of him which aren’t considered beautiful by the golden ratio, so here we are~

Anyway, I hope y’all enjoyed this deleted scene ft. college crush Dottore ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

Tag a Dottore enjoyer!! @gum-iie @sirbotik @surveyycorps @boundinparchment @ruayiri @darherwings @oofasleep @oh-no-i-am-here @nicebonescomrades @diaboliravioli @ryo-ri @unloadingdata @sodomewithlifern @maaarshieee @dottoreslittlelabrat @poweredbyghostadventures

#il dottore #dottore #dottore x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers #genshin x reader #g/n reader #jessamine-writing

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pen-observing · 1 year

Text

GENSHIN HAREM MANHWA AU

Opening up the pages of the newest fantasy novel had you wishing for a more exciting life. Perhaps you should have been careful because the glowing light made sure to give you what you asked for. Underneath one sky, they all love you. As time passes, you will have to make a choice. Remember, choices are only for the brave and love must find you before you search for it. Out of the thirteen paths, just which one will you choose?

CHAPTER TWO OF SEVEN. characters: albedo & dottore (seperate) x gn! reader word count: 6.2k (3.6k & 2.6k respectively) warnings: these are vaguely connected but you can still understand them completely separately, the rest of the fic is in regular font.

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

ALBEDO - THE SPOUSE YOU GAVE UP YOUR TITLE FOR. HE IS GENTLE SUN THAT HELPS YOUR MEMORIES COME BACK.

Sometimes you think that falling droplets are a more intense feeling than an all-out rain pour. There is something about your head and arms and clothes being touched by that slow and gentle push from nature that leaves you feeling languid. Or do you feel so because you somehow remember you went through a designated door? – pushing and pulling your feet to go on while knowing every step means losing and gaining? Something isn’t right with you. But you feel like forgetting whatever it was you experienced makes this easier for you. And just what the fuck is that thing that is dripping on your arm? Droplets rarely fall in just one place and this is not a rain pour either.

There is a distinct itch on your left eyebrow, and you scratch it as you rise. Hoping not to feel the drops anymore. There is only so long before something gentle becomes irritating. When you do rise it is with a heaviness in your bones. As if you were sleeping for a very long time on something uncomfortable. And once you try to stretch out your back – you realize that feeling is right. Who knows how many minutes or hours you spent sleeping on this sturdy floor?

As your eyes begin to focus on things around you – you realize that on the right side is a big table. You felt the droplet hitting your arm over and over again because of something that looks like a glass tube. The table is larger than you while you still continue to sit down on the floor, but, even from this position, you can see just how many colors and papers and glass flasks take up all of that large space.

You stand up and place your hands on the papers to look around more. Does this belong to you? Were you actually a scientist in this life researching something important? The notes are not in your handwriting, and you almost understand none of the words on those papers or on all of the boards written out with chalk. A shiver runs up your body and you realize just how cold and distilled this room really is. There are windows but they are closed and covered by curtains as well as books?

A shiver runs up your body again and you hear the door hinges. As they open, sunlight draws its shape under your feet and you immediately feel warmer. You aren’t surprised that sunflowers seek the sun because you immediately turn around to feel that warmth again – and it is not just the sun that greets you – you notice sunlit hair and the outline of someone’s body.

“Huh? Darling, what are you doing here?”

Darling? Does this person with the calm voice see you as their darling? Their nickname for you is as tender as droplets themselves. It somehow feels warm. And while you should feel scared for not knowing this man, who is hurriedly walking over because of your confused face; you feel no fear. No malice. And no darkness. He holds your hands and you think how odd it is that he seems as warm as the sun, yet his hands are cold against your own. Maybe you feel so cold and sensitive because you just woke up? Besides finding comfort in his cold but gentle hands, you catch sight of a ring on his finger as he examines your state.

“How long have you been here?”

His intonation remains the same but should you perhaps not have entered this room? His gaze sharpens as he catches sight of something. He tugs your hand towards him to extend it fully – and that makes you spot the same ring on your own hand.

“This doesn’t look good.” he says, and you think how he just said your inner thoughts. Are you supposed to be married to this man? The dumb doors never give you a warning when you pass through them.

You are absolutely frozen. Your mind is thinking over things too fast, trying to force itself to remember anything, but it fails. It fails you completely. And you continue to stare at him.

“What is this? You are not trying to reassure me of your state? That is surprising.”

He looks at you. His eyes are searching for something within you and when you blink; he looks away and sighs. Something tells you he knows that you are not his spouse – that you are not the actual person he loves and worries over so much. His hands leaving your body and the step he takes back are enough of a confirmation of that. You miss the feeling of such proximity.

“Tell me, do you feel cold? Perhaps any chills?” “I uhm, yes. But I think that is just from sleeping in this room.” “You slept in this room?” he says it with complete disapproval, but it is not directed towards either of you.

“I will need to be quick. Leave this room on your own, go down the very end of the hall and turn to the right. When you enter that room, just sit completely still on the bed and wait for me to come.”

After he says that, he bypasses you to the table and picks up those papers you touched earlier. You feel like an intruder with no reason to stay any longer, and with one glance back, you close the door and do as he instructed you to.

And you almost regret it. This room is filled with sunlight. There are no traces of dust or any mess. But this is clearly the room of a couple. The shared closet and the shared large bed are enough for you to know. You still feel like an intruder but as another chill overtakes you, you realize it is better to sit down and rest no matter how out of place this makes you feel. You sit on the bed, completely still. Somehow you are actually afraid to move.

You look outside the window. It must be spring or summer. The trees and grass are completely vibrant in their green hues. Something tells you this house is fairly isolated. There seems to be a small town in the distance. For 20 or so minutes, you sit still and look at the window to see what changes. Nobody walks towards this house and the small town continues to look like a painting instead of a living and breathing thing with people who lead their lives there. You grow impatient and plant your feet on the ground to rise up and walk closer to the window; halfway through the door opens again and you quickly sit down to make it seem like you were not about to break his instructions.

“It is futile to pretend like you were not just about to get up.” There go your hopes.

“Extend your hand.” You eye him and extend your hand in his direction. He looks unimpressed while holding a white packaging in his hands. “Your other hand. The one the liquid touched.” “Oh.”

You extend it, and he sits down next to you with the weight shifting.

“Luckily, the liquid only dripped down on the upper part of your arm. Not on your face, or worse, in your mouth.” He takes some white cream on the tip of his index finger and brings it to your arm. When you look at it, you notice for the first time how red it got with a small centre part that can only be described as maroon.

“You are lucky this didn’t completely break the first layer of your skin. This way, you will only be feverish for a few days once I apply this cream on you.”

He is completely calm and you don’t even think of asking what could have happened if that liquid actually dripped down on your head instead. Something tells you it is better not to know the details. But... just.. He was so comforting when he first touched you in that room, and now it simply feels like any regular doctor appointment but inside of a room that should be the most intimacy ridden place in this house. It leaves a bad taste in your mouth. This feeling. The fact that you really do not know this man but wish to have him close to you. That you wish he would treat you as if no chance has taken place.

But he is calm, and smart and calculating. He seems like the rational type who has no qualms about any of this. The cream stings your arm, but you find it more bearable than your need to be coddled by this man.

“There. Now all you need to do is rest.” “Thank you..” “Albedo. That is my name. I never thought I would have to reintroduce myself to the love of my life, but we have been through so..” he stops himself. “Nevermind.”

You do not know what to say.

“Just make sure you rest in this room. I will bring you fever medicine, food and anything else you might need.” “Thank you, again. I am sorry I look like your significant other but I have no memories of you or..this home.” “I will sleep on the couch until you remember or...whatever it is fate will play next. Are you sure you absolutely have no memories of me? Or your ‘previous’ life?”

You nod your head. It stings.

“I see. The evening is here. As soon as you feel the fever, call me. Until then.”

The evening casts a cold blue over the sky before it completely turns dark. The town which you see through the window seems more alive now that you can see the few lights turned on. The bed you climb into reminds you of your current situation. You find the perfect spot and you already know it is perfect because your body made these small dents to accommodate it – and it just makes you feel like this situation (yes situation, not life) was not something you should be thrust into. You are an intruder in the worst way possible. It is with those thoughts that you actually feel the fever which overtakes you. You do not want to shout, so with a shaky but regular voice you call out his name – you call out ‘Albedo’ and it rolls off your tongue far easier than you wish.

You expected that you would have to call his name more than once, but while you do not hear his footsteps – you hear the door opening. For some reason, Albedo didn’t change his clothes. Did he even sleep? He didn’t take blankets from this room either. Maybe he is working into the night?

There is a tray in his hands. It has two glasess of water, a syrup and what you can only describe as a plethora of pills and vitamins in the center. He is a meticilous man. You think how he always worries too much. The medicine he gives you is so bitter you forget about that thought reeking of familiarity when it really shouldn’t be.

“By your face I can see you are still a baby about the bitterness. Here, drink this water. I would bring you milk but it might taste even worse after that pill.” There is a soft smile on his face. Reminiscence is a luxury sometimes you realize.

“Albedo, how long do you think I will have to stay in bed?” “Around three to four more days. You do not know this, but you were lucky I was the one who found you. My skills in alchemy are said to be grander than most.” “Alchemy? So that was your lab!” “Yes, I still do not know why you were sleeping there. Do you have any idea why?”

You’re sweating from the covers and the fever going down. His pills work quickly, and your head is clearing up.

“I only know a few things about myself.”

He looks around and with some hesitation, sits down on the bed not allowing you to get up. “Could you tell me what you do know? It might help us both.” “I know that... I am an intruder in this domesticity. At least that is something.” “Even a slight change is an intruder in domesticity we built. It becomes easily noticeable. Please, go on.”

Was that his way of reassuring you?

“I just know I keep switching places. There are doors that greet me and that I sometimes run towards but.. I have no way of knowing what is behind them. I have a feeling I was asleep in your lab, because every time I switch places, my eyes are closed? I think.” “Interesting.”

Albedo brings a hand to his chin.

“Could we say your eyes being closed is a trigger for this phenomenon? Are you aware how many times you switched places? Do you usually regain your memories?”

Albedo is a curious man you realize. His questions are never-ending.

“I think I...at least regain parts of memories of the people I play? Well, live. This isn’t theatre but...” you are getting sleepy now and your words are growing quieter. “but at least I will stop being an impostor. And no, I am not aware how many places I have changed so far.” “I see. I will give this more thought and time.”

Albedo brings up the covers to your shoulders and tucks you in with that same reminiscent look in his eyes.

“Please rest up. Your eyes are getting watery from a lack of sleep.”

And you fall asleep with that image of Albedo in your mind. The Albedo that cares for you. In all his gentleness.

The next morning you wake up in a very different way which makes your heart race. Through your sleepy state, you hear the door burst open and suddenly something jumping on your bed. And then it jumps right off, even faster. You continue to lie down, but your watery eyes make out a big blur of something red. Something that immediately approaches your head once it sees you rubbing your eyes. And once you move your hand away, you are met with wide, curious eyes who are looking at you without blinking.

“You’re awake! Yey!”

You realize this blur of red is just a very jumpy child celebrating the fact that they get to see you. You should know this little girl, but despite the fact that you do not, you move your hand to put some of her hair back in place.

“I am!” You try to match some of her enthusiasm.

“Big brother Albedo said you would be sleeping and that I shouldn’t disturb you because you are sick. But, I snuck out while he was making me breakfast!”

You can’t help but to giggle. “I see.” Behind her, you can see Albedo at the door.

“Do you think your big brother noticed that you left so soon?” She laughs and says how she hopes he did not, but it is interrupted by Albedo touching her shoulder.

“Well, I am sorry to say that your hopes turned out to be empty. I told you to stay away because we have a patient on our hands Klee.” “So? I always make them feel better when they catch a cold! I wanted to help again!”

She is so earnest and full of energy.

“And how will you do that now that you are here might I ask?”

Klee looks around and thinks. “By hearing stories! That always helps. I want to hear my favorite one!” “Klee, I don’t think that is a good idea right now.”

Before Albedo can take her out of the room, she jumps on your bed again. “Oh please! Please tell the story of how you fell in love with my brother because he was a genius! And then how you two had to escape your strict father and how you gave up your status to marry him!”

You freeze up. Albedo rushes to take her off your bed.

“No, big brother! Please! Miss Lisa wants more details. Please tell me the story again!” “Klee, it is time for medicine. Cooperate with me so that we help the sickness go away, okay?”

He takes her off your bed, but she grabs onto your hand instead.

“Tell me!”

You look at her and the look you give Albedo lets him know you will handle this.

“Klee, I did not fall in love with your brother because he was a genius. I fell in love with him because he was kinder than anyone I met.”

She laughs and lets go of your hand. Albedo finds that the perfect moment to help guide her out of the room.

“You have your answer now Klee. Come on, I will tell you the details while you play with the dog.”

Albedo gives you a smile and a nod to which you nod back. It means understanding but...despite the moment, you still feel like an outsider. Albedo and you own a dog? Until when will everything be a revelation to you?

Albedo enters your room again while carrying lunch. You’ve realized just how much of a good cook he is.

“Klee suddenly dropped by; I apologize. She was passing by to carry a letter and decided to visit us. If I knew, I would have told you.” “I understand. It is not your fault. Your little sister seems like a very energetic girl.” “Ah yes. You know, it is odd how similar you are to the person you say you are impersonating. You, they, said that during our wedding too when she dropped the cake.”

The domesticity gets broken again. You wish to know so much, and Albedo doesn’t do anything but reminisce.

“Albedo, could you tell me the story you told Klee? It might help my memories. I might be the person that you love again.” “You already are that person, albeit, without remembering me.”

He catches you off guard as he sits down next to you.

“If that is your hypothesis, I will tell you.” Albedo places a warm cup of tea in your hands.

“I told you of my alchemy skills before. With them, I managed to gain a patron when I was struggling, and that patron just so happened to be your father.”

He watches you take a sip.

“Because of my genius, I was offered a place in your home. With your father being a duke and all, the mansion was large enough for me to live and research there without disturbing anyone. Back then, at the start, my unknown origin did not matter to anyone. I was a genius and that was more important than anything else.”

Albedo sees the way your hands seem to curl up around the cup.

“By chance, you happened to stumble upon my lab. We will call it your curious and bratty nature at play. And before I knew it, we were in love and confident it would be accepted. Unfortunately, as soon as you told your father...It didn’t matter that I was a genius – I was unworthy of the duke’s child.”

He finally looks up at you instead of your hands. You are listening intently. Albedo does not know if your memories are returning but he cannot doubt the love in your eyes. How it looks just like it did before, on the day you stood up to your father.

“When I packed up my things, you refused to let me leave without you. In short, we escaped that night to this small town. Lived in it while I worked as an alchemist and doctor, so that we could move away and build this house right here.”

The cup in your hands proves to be too distracting for you, so you leave it on the tray instead.

“After a while, you sent your father a letter to officially confirm you gave up your title and inheritance. I would say your greedy cousins now see you as a hero for that.”

He takes off his gloves and holds your arm, expecting the same place again.

“It is healing up quite nicely.”

And you can’t stand it. The memories that rush back to you, his cold hands on your body, this proximity and domesticity that makes you restless. His closeness makes you feel warm again and you know it is definitely not the fever this time.

“I don’t regret running away with you. Even if my father said you were not human Albedo.” “Ah, have the memories truly returned to you? You are not surprised by my hands being cold anymore either.”

You nod as tears swell up in your eyes. You finally remember this. You are finally in the place you are supposed to be.

“I cannot believe you have made me wonder if you loved me. Didn’t you promise I would never have doubts?” “Oh, were you foolish enough to ask if I loved you? You should have asked yourself if you would be able to handle it if I didn’t hold back my love for you in your current state.”

And he says that with all the gentleness of the sun; of the droplets you love so much. He says it with a playful smile on his face because your lover has always been a tease. He loves you. He loves you more than anything. You just wish this fate didn’t toy with you like this. Just as Albedo places a kiss on your collarbone, you are met with another door.

And this time, you are hesitant to move towards it.

DOTTORE - THE MAN WHO BECOMES A SINNER FOR YOU. THE MAGIC MIRROR URGES YOU TO HATE HIM BECAUSE YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO KNOW THAT HE TURNED BACK TIME FOR YOU.

Is this the first time that this has happened? When you are back in this idyllic white room, it makes you forget almost everything; but never have you stood still when a door manifested before. You remember running and grabbing onto the handle as if it was the only hopeful thing to exist. But never have you stood so...still. So hesitant to approach this novelty.

It is like this door represents a certain darkness that you realize hides amongst this world. It is intimidating; looks like it towers over you no matter the fact that you are at least fifteen steps away from it. It looks grandiose unlike anything you have seen so far. To think that a door can have such an intricate design, with vines of silver coating the corners; with a blue glow around the outline – it still holds you in place. Maybe if you stand still long enough, you will be able to avoid venturing inside the life that hides on the other side of it? It is not cowardice – well, even if that was the true name – you just consider it something to be visited later. When bravery and spitefulness overtakes you perhaps. So you wait. Patience is a virtue that might manifest a different door in front of you. Or behind you? You look around, orbiting around yourself for something different to invite you in.

But sadly, instead of a new hope – the silver vines from the door come alive, they wrap around your body like harp strings – and you are pulled towards that blue. The pull itself does not hurt; it just makes you panic. Whatever hides behind this door you will have to deal with, that much is painfully clear.

With a deep breath, you twist the handle. The blue glows even brighter and it makes you gasp. That is the last thing you remember.

The sensation of gasping proves itself to be more painful than usual. You wish you hadn’t done it. It feels like your lungs are on fire and you are coughing with small tears decorating your eyelashes. You don’t know where you are, but you are sure it is a big room by the way even this seems to echo. Nobody is speaking, but there is a hand at your back – rubbing soothing circles into it to calm you down. Your coughing eventually dies down and you are able to open your eyes. The world around you seems blurry, but the first sight you see is your lap and a pristine white tablecloth. Instead of looking behind you to see the person that is helping you, your gaze shifts upwards and across all the cutlery and food; across that stretched out table that seems to swallow you up – is a man with blue hair and round glasses looking at you in endearment. He doesn’t seem worried about you – he seems enamoured. His chin rests in his hand as his iceberg eyes look at you in such an adoring way you can’t help but scoff and turn your gaze towards your lap again. The least he could do is ask if you are okay. He shouldn’t be free of worry for you. Even complete strangers would be. Is he too reliant on the servant rubbing your back? Or is he just so above it all?

“Oh, my love,” his voice is deeper than you imagined it would be. Your shoulders tense up as he continues to talk. “I know that is your favorite food but please refrain from consuming it so quickly you end up choking on it and worrying me.”

Bullshit. He didn’t look worried at all.

The warm hand on your back disappears and you realize it was a servant that helped you as they walk back into the hallway. You wish to thank them but the tense atmosphere and your irritated throat make you keep quiet. The man across from you taps his wine glass and the sound just means a ring for your attention.

“To our anniversary, my love.” His voice is sickeningly gentle.

Anniversary? This man with iceberg eyes and a misty voice is your lover? And this whole ordeal is just a dinner to celebrate that anniversary? If he really loved you – he would have realized immediately that you did not know him and that you had no recollection of any love living and extending in this place. But he looks at you with love, impatient to see you bring up your own glass above your head for a toast.

You do it. You raise the glass and mumble ‘happy anniversary’ and all the while, you think, how dumb it is for your glasses not to clink against one another. Even if you did not remember him – it is utterly foolish to sit this far apart while talking about love.

After the dinner, he walked over to your side and leaned against the table. That closeness makes you feel uneasy. It makes you note just how intense his gaze really is. Across the table, you only saw the depth flicker but like this, the intensity makes you break and you look away.

You do not even know his name, and yet, this man is taking hold of your hand, rolling down your glove and pressing kisses from your knuckle, over your wrist, and all the way up to your elbow. Then, with a sigh of pleasure, he drops your hand down and you can’t help how you squirm. He pulls your glove back up and rests his hand on your head.

“My dearest,” another sweet nickname in that deep voice of his, “make sure you get enough rest tonight.”

With that, he leaves the room. Are you two not supposed to share a living space? Why did he say it like that? Shouldn’t you two go into shared quarters? It surprises you. The way that intense presence is fine with leaving you alone like this.

The same servant walks into the room and says she will escort you to your room and run a warm bath.

At least this way, you will not be lost and looking for your room in a manor you know nothing about.

While washing your body in water that seems too perfect to fit your needs, you realize it is a bit odd to be so calm about this current state. You were more scared of the door leading to this place instead of being in it.

Was the person you are supposed to be this sullen? And this calm? Maybe you are just acting out a script they wrote? This state of...celebrating an anniversary (numbered what? You do not know.) and then leaving for separate rooms doesn’t seem as anything unusual. The room this maid took you to had traces of life for just one. It had traces of only you. Ornaments according to your own taste. The organised bookshelves and the desk – even the curtains all seemed like the exact choice you would make. It didn’t seem like anyone else’s tastes were part of these corners – but why?

Even this bed you are lying in after the bath – it fits you perfectly. Nothing is lacking. Even the sheets are scented according to what brings you pleasure. It is as if everything was perfectly ordained by your desires.

You have to wonder if that man wants to enrapture you.

After so much thinking, you imagined this world would have let you sleep and ‘get some rest’ as your alleged lover put it. But instead, when you close your eyes, you see the same blue glow that dragged you in. And in an instant, sleepiness leaves your body as you jump up out of the bed. The blue glow this time is radiating from the mirror. No matter how hard you look at it, you do not see yourself reflected. Matter of fact, nothing is reflected. It only glows and this time you willingly drag your feet towards it.

Your hand touched the surface of it, but nothing happens. You are not plunged or tugged towards another fragmented scene. Instead, the mirror feels cold and you can hear a voice talking to you.

“Oh you, the blessed path seeker, Remember that he has broken the rules. Oh you, the choice maker, Remember that you have to hate him, for the fear of fools.”

When that voice says he – the only image your mind is able to conjure up is of that dinner. How his head was resting in his hand and how he looked at you. He has to be the man you must hate. Why? What rules has he broken? You do not know.

But hating him does not seem like a hard task to fulfil.

When the glow stops, you return to your bed strangely calm.

In the morning you do not wake up by your own violation. You wake up because your maid moves away the curtains and your needed rest gets interrupted by the dimmed sun. Before you can rub away the sleep from your eyes, she opens your closet and starts sorting through clothes.

“Lord Dottore has requested that you join him for some morning tea.”

So his name is Dottore? And they refer to him as a Lord?

“Don’t you just find this brew excellent for this morning my dearest?”

He never seems to run out of sweet nicknames to call you by. And you just grow to hate them more as they continue to pile up. But he is right, this tea is excellent. He probably knows more about brews and taste than you – but as long as you enjoy drinking it – the tea is perfectly fine. Plus, this garden pavilion is not only decorated in luxury, but by the autumn leaves falling down and the dimming sun that woke you up. They are an enjoyable sight that proves to make you avoidance of Dottore’s eyes even easier.

“I have to agree with you.”

Dottore seems reminiscent of something. Completely giving into the feeling. Almost wistful.

“Ah, you are not using a nickname for me. Tell me my darling, have I done something to upset you? Was perhaps the anniversary celebration not to you liking?”

And you freeze. Wouldn’t admitting you do not remember large parts of the anniversary put you in danger? Dottore seems perfectly calm while talking to you like this but you can sense just how on edge the servants are around him. As if he could grow impulsive at any second from the smallest thing.

You try to scramble your brain for a coherent answer, but it just so happens that a male servant saves you by quickly approaching your table.

“Lord Dottore, there is an emergency concerning Sir Ragnvindr! We need instructions on-”

Dottore’s cup of tea flies directly at the man’s feet and it shatters. The grey liquid spilling everywhere makes for an odd sight to behold. It shocks you. Dottore, on the other hand, acts as if nothing just happened. He crosses his arms and speaks in that same calm voice.

“What did I say about anyone interrupting me during my private moments?”

He leans back against the chair and looks at the servant mockingly.

“What did you say? Sir Ragnvindr being an emergency?”, he seems to be smirking as his voice lulls along. “That man will never be a serious emergency for you to break our peaceful time. Deal with Ragnvindr on your own before I decide to come.”

The servant picks up the large pieces of the teacup before he scurries away. You look down at your lap instead and mumble the name Diluc Ragnvindr over twice. Dottore simply looks at you as his smirk stretches out.

“What is this? Do you know the man named Diluc Ragnvindr?” “I... think I do...” This whole situation is unclear to yourself. You seem to remember the name but not the face of that individual. “Might I ask how? Wait, you don’t have to tell me, he must have been one of your toys before you met me. Am I right?”

Dottore seems really pleased with himself. Does his arrogance know no bounds?

“I think I ..” your mind only draws one scene. Someone is holding your hand and guiding you – so you answer honestly. As honestly as you can amidst all of the confusion.

“I think I .. danced with him once.”

Dottore clicks his tongue.

“My, my, he must be a truly talented dancer if you remember him for such a meaningless thing.”

But by the way Dottore stands up and invites you to waltz in the garden – you doubt he truly finds it meaningless.

After that, Dottore does not disturb you for the rest of the day. When you open a book to read – he does not have a request to see you. When you eat your lunch, it is by yourself in the garden. When you take a walk, he doesn’t randomly appear to join you as much as you convinced yourself that man would find a way to ruin your fun. And even as dinner approaches, you end up sitting all by yourself at that large table. It doesn’t feel right to look at so much food for just one person, so you only end up taking a few bites before retreating to your room for some sleep.

You did wake up before you wished this morning after all. This night – there is no blue hues that could wake you or disturb your sleep. Nor is there any voice to strike fear and order. You fall asleep without any issues; but you awake in the middle of the night to the feeling of your sheets being pulled. No, they are not being pulled, it just feels like someone is gripping on them behind your back. Their hand stays in the same position, rustling the fabric and you hear someone’s voice breaking.

“Why were we cursed like this?” the voice asks. You keep your eyes closed and pretend to still be asleep. The voice belongs to Dottore, but it is just a broken-down whisper.

“I turned back time for you out of love. And they considered me sinful.”

He has done what? He turned back time for you? What does this mean? Is Dottore the reason you keep opening all of those doors? Is he the reason for this fragmentation?

He rests his head on your bed and now his voice is even more muffled.

“And yet, I was punished. It doesn’t matter that you are here with me. They cursed me. Made you forget me or hate me over and over again. As soon as you start to love me – you revert back to someone who has no memories.”

He lifts his head up.

“Like you did..at that anniversary dinner. Oh, what must I do? What must I do to have you come back to me completely? Tell me!”

You think that even he himself is unaware who he is talking to. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the fact that his voice is painfully hoarse. And, when you turn around to look at him, because you cannot deal to hear such pain and ignore it – you realize that he is even unaware of the tears that coat his cheeks.

His iceberg eyes light up when you reach to wipe them away.

“My foolish Dottore,” , you forget about the voice from the mirror. You forget about the hatred. “You have to make up for your sins.”

You look at him with love. And as he gets off his knees to pull you closer, as his hand touches your own – you are being pulled by the silver strings once more. Dottore is a sinner. He has sinned for you. And until his repentance is done – you will continue to be separated from him.

a/n: kekekeke i love dottore but he should suffer. And it is fun to make him like this. I hope u enjoyed it! This took me so much work omg

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#genshin x reader #albedo x reader #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #genshin albedo #genshin dottore #genshin impact #genshin imagines #pwanw

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