I’ve had this idea for a while and had no motivation for it so I’m sharing it here:
Fable SMP Umbrella Academy AU
Hear me out:
Fable is Reggie Hargreaves, no doubt in my mind
Rae is the equivalent to Vanya/Viktor. Fable told him his entire life that he has no powers.
Icarus and Rae’s dynamic is like Allison and Viktor’s. Toxic
Icarus is Number One. Their power is potions, they don’t need books, they just have all the information in their head and can make anything in just a couple minutes.
Athena is Number Two. They can destroy things just by gesturing to the object and wanting it to get destroyed.
Centross is Number Three. He’s a mix of Luther and Diego, super strong and very good with his weapons. He gets sent to the Med Bay a lot after missions and Fable is always mad at him for letting himself get hurt.
Jamie is Number Four. They can talk to animals and occasionally make new ones in their room, much to everyone’s awe and dismay. They’re really close with Easton because they’re bio siblings.
Easton is Number Five. They got blinded during a mission when they were younger and Fable doesn’t allow them to partake in missions anymore, even though they can sense using the plants around them.
Haley is Number Six. She can see and hear a few minutes into the future at will and is good friends with Icarus.
Rae is Number Seven. He’s been told his entire life that he doesn’t have powers so he works on gear and equipment maintenance for everyone else. He also patches everyone up (mostly Centross) after missions.
Isla is defiantly Grace and I think c!Ven would be Pogo.
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SKINNY LOVE | IL DOTTORE
summary: a failed mission sets dottore off, just not in the way you might’ve expected--the doctor cares for no one but himself and his research, not even his own segments, so why was he so incensed at the fact that you were hurt?
warnings: no warnings, really, reader a bit anxious over just failing a mission and a small wound. just some hurt/comfort (??) with dottore. not rlly sure what to label it.
notes: man ik dottore isn't rlly the hurt/comfort man but i think i kept this rlly well in character im lowkey proud i even had tee n eris double check 4 me <3 i wrote this during my breakdown friday adfijaiosdfjia LMAO @tweris @dxlucs @7rkx @mxnjiros @hanmas @albedophoria @tokyometronetwork @manjiroscum @dynalite @niicevibe
wordcount: 1.5k
“You’re upset.”
You looked away at the statement--there was no sort of empathy or worry behind his words, it was a simple observation, a fact, nothing more, nothing less. He barely bothered to look at you as he spoke, engrossed with the vial in his hands. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he didn’t care at all.
If you didn’t know any better.
He wouldn’t have acknowledged it at all if that were the case.
“I’m not,” you said after a moment, clearing your throat and smoothing your palms over your pants twice before picking at your cuticles, a nervous habit that you couldn’t seem to break.
“... and now you are lying.”
You grit your teeth together, ignoring Dottore’s words as you became frustrated with one cuticle that would just not peel off. You let out a shaky breath, bringing your finger to your mouth, going to rip it off with your teeth instead, but a hand curled around your wrist before you could--grip firm and unmoving even as you tried to pull your hand away.
Reluctantly, your gaze drew upward to where Dottore was now standing in front of you, staring down at you unamused and unimpressed. “What happened?” he asked again, and you noticed that he had placed the vial down, averting all of his attention to you as he waited for you to explain.
And you wanted to explain, you really did, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit that you had failed the one mission that you had been given, not to Dottore. You were already trying to brace yourself for the punishment that would come from Pantalone at your failure. So you kept your mouth shut, turning your face away from him as you waited for him to lose interest and go back to his research.
You should have known better.
You felt two fingers grab your chin, not hard enough to bruise by any means but also not gently. Dottore turned your head back toward him, tilting your face up and forcing you to look at him. You kept your gaze averted but you could feel the way he was searching your face for answers, trying to piece together on his own what happened. Sometimes you really hated how smart he was.
“Your mission went poorly,” Dottore finally spoke up--it was a statement but also a question, he was waiting for your reaction to see if he had deduced it correctly. And you couldn’t help the way your throat spasmed as you tried to swallow back the sob--you had never been one to handle failure well, ever since you were a kid. “I see.”
Dottore let go of your face and you snapped your head to the side, turning away as you tried to blink back the tears that were building too rapidly for you to control. He didn’t speak again as he moved back to his lab table, picking the vial back up and watching it absently before placing it on a burner.
“What happened?” he questioned as he put away some of his tools, walking to the other side of the room where he had several other vials displayed.
Breathe in, breathe out.
“Pantalone sent me to the Natlan border--to Apavny--to pick up some materials for Sandrone. It was, um, supposed to be a simple mission, not even leaving the homeland-” your voice cracked, your hand went to your side as pain shot through your abdomen at the reminder. You noticed how Dottore was now looking at you sharply from the corner of his eye, waiting for you to continue--you tried to hide the way you were holding your side, “Natlan has been getting more aggressive, we knew that, I just didn’t think-”
“They attacked you,” there was an odd tone to his voice, tight and unfriendly, as he placed the final vial back in the burner and turned to look at you. You weren’t sure you had ever heard him take a tone other than the low drawl he usually spoke in.
“They got the materials-” you tried to continue, confirming his suspicions that you had failed the mission, but apparently that hadn’t been what he was leading to.
“You’re hurt.”
You faltered as you forced yourself to look back up at him, catching the way his jaw was taut and the way his eyes were trained solely on you, waiting for you to speak but you weren’t sure what he wanted you to say. Instead, you only shook your head.
“It’s only a flesh wound,” you said quietly. “It’ll be-”
Your voice hung off when you noticed the livid expression that had crossed Dottore’s face, it was only for half a second but you had caught it and you couldn’t help the way you hesitated. He was angry? But why?
Dottore didn’t speak again, returning his attention to the lab table, and you noted that instead of moving to continue his research, he was now putting the vials and materials away. His movements were still as smooth and graceful as usual, but each time he shut one of his drawers, it was a bit harder than necessary, the bang nearly making you flinch.
Was he mad at you? You couldn’t tell and any question you might’ve had to ask him died on the tip of your tongue as soon as you opened your mouth to ask him. The moments he spent putting away his tools and materials were long and agonizing, an anxiety building in you that you had never felt before. Dottore wouldn’t hurt you, you knew that--he might not care for anybody but himself but he had always favored you the most of everyone within the Fatui, even above the other Harbingers and his own segments.
What if your failure ruined it? The disappointment enough reason for him to cast you aside? You had never understood why he favored you, you figured it was because he saw potential in you and now, with your failure, you-
You hadn’t even realized he had come to stand in front of you, lifting one hand to your jaw again to tilt your face up toward his. Your cheeks were wet, you hadn’t even realized you were crying and Dottore hated weakness, any sign or mention of it had him mocking and cruel. “I’m sor-” you tried to say, voice cracking despite your strongest attempts to keep it steady.
“You said this happened in Apavny?” he asked, voice low and quiet and tense, but the grip he had on your jaw was gentle this time--he was never gentle with you, not while he was training you, now while he was trying to teach you about his research, he was always cold and sharp and unforgiving.
You nodded as best you could with the grip on his jaw.
“You did the best you could,” he said after a moment. “I’ll take care of it from here.”
You were at a loss for words as you stared up at him but Dottore didn’t linger. His hand dropped from your face, the cold expression returning as he turned to grab his cloak from where it was hanging several feet away, shrugging it on before fastening his mask on.
“Dottore, they’re probably long gone,” you tried to tell him, taking a few steps toward him but you froze when he turned his head over his shoulder to look at you--you couldn’t see his eyes from behind his mask and it had always unnerved you because you could never how he was feeling.
He didn’t even bother to respond to you, pushing the doors to the lab open and leaving without another word, leaving you standing there reeling, trying to figure out what had just happened.
---
Hours later, he returned, blood still splattered on his cloak and face, the box of materials you had failed to retrieve snug in his arms. His lips were tight and flat, and his eyes were still covered by the mask, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
He didn’t speak as he pushed the box into your own arms, not until he had already passed by you. “Bring it to Pantalone, tell him you retrieved it.”
Your mouth was dry as you stared down at the box, confused and trying to push away the rising emotions. You spun around to look at him but he didn’t even bother to look back as he walked back down the hall toward his lab.
“Dottore,” you called, watching as he paused midstep, waiting for you to continue. “Why?”
He didn’t answer, and you supposed you should have expected that. Instead, he waited for a moment before continuing down the hall, leaving your question hanging heavy in the air between the two of you as you stared down at the box with an oddly warm feeling in your chest, wondering what this all meant.
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