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throwaway-yandere · 5 months

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𝗖𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 [Yandere!Dottore/Reader]

a/n: this fic is 100% dedicated to @leftdestiny-posts and they would know just how much they had inspired me in this fic once they finished reading it HAHAHAHAH. P.S.: the classical songs mentioned are actual songs. Yes, the title is half a joke. Here's the spotify playlist if you're curious.

Unreliable Synopsis: You cannot remember your past, but your doctor has been with you every step of the way— and he's more than willing to spend some time with you outside the hospital. Still... did you always have pure white hair?

CW: yandere themes, light body horror, manipulation, its dottore, c'mon LOL.

Concert II "Tristezza Di Fine Anno", performed by the Morespoke Philharmonic with their conductor, Lady Columbina, began nearly an hour ago. And you had the fortune of hearing their songs for yourself.

The well-dressed crowd filled the seats, behaving in what was appropriate for their high station. It was fully booked. The music overwhelmingly masked anyone's breaths, if they had one to start with. Her program can be felt deep in the audience's bones. Rattling them in each sforzando before it lulls down through the sound of her handpicked musicians— with Lady Columbina as the lonesome soloist when the moment calls for it.

"This piece, Symphony No. 5 in C-Sharp Minor, is not Columbina's own making, she had failed to mention that," your company hummed. "This was by another composer who hid behind the name Safed. They were a self-fulling prophecy. Do you wish to know what they said about this piece?"

You said nothing as Zandik— Lord Dottore— stroked your unnaturally "white" hair.

"They said that nobody understood the piece and that they wish they could conduct the first performance five centuries after their death."

Zandik smiled.

"What say you? Do you think those words are true?"

Your company was a tall and thin man with artificially pale-ish skin and wavy blue hair. His eyes were reportedly bloodshot crimson, although you had not received proof of that in this lifetime. But, you were drawn to his deep ocean-like colors, and that was enough to keep you mildly complacent to his strange remarks.

Zandik is surprisingly a considerate man, but he must've brought you with him for a reason. He told you himself that the reason he brought you out of your prison-like hospital room was a mere experiment on his behalf. Paradigm-shifting consequences of his strange social experiments with you are likely to occur, and he cares not for its ethical debates. He won't ask for rhetorics; these to him are tangible outcomes and no questions will be entertained.

All except his.

"I think… "

The composition had a serene, slightly asymmetrical feel to it. You were certain this was Lady Columbina's creative liberties at play. Something about it did not capture its true authenticities. The show purported to narrate three stories: the first concerned a judge who had to find a loved one guilty; the second concerned a prince who drove their beloved into despair; and the final was a tale of a knight who disregarded his obligation to defend a loved one.

But it felt incomplete. As if there was a missing piece— a secret fourth act hiding between the notes and stage.

"A person can't completely mourn for something they would never experience," you told him. "But even so, if I were Safed, I'd feel like my effort would've been a waste."

His eyes remained trained on your hair as you spoke. Zandik seems to dislike it. Unlike his cells mixed with engineered nanomaterials, yours are uniquely… "natural". His hair has a color intensity, whereas yours was the presence of every color— as physics explained it.

"Something they would never experience…" Zandik repeated, tasting the words on his tongue— a smirk etched on his face as though it tasted like bitter irony.

You continued.

"I have a hunch that Safed put everything they worked hard on all their pieces because Lady Columbina wouldn't have performed it otherwise. Since all the songs on the concert's program are marketed as underappreciated compositions, I would… um… infer that they also questioned their works and ultimately themselves if it all had worth in the end. Hopeless for the lack of attention, they probably thought there's more hope if they lived in another generation."

You wanted to say, though you're not sure where this negativity came from, that they probably despised how their well-crafted works were ignored and their sloppy yet significantly more popular compositions angered them.

But you're not Safed. You don't want to put words in their mouth.

".... Hmm, an acceptable hypothesis— a decent one, even," whatever monotonous response Zandik wished to convey, his voice betrayed his grand satisfaction. "Yet I won't give you any confirmation."

"I know."

Zandik laughed.

"The next piece is Norn's Adagio for Strings Op. 11, before the closing Symphony No. 6, better known as Pathétique Symphony, in B Minor Op. 74."

You tilted your head innocently. "Pathetic?"

"Another piece by Safed. It's a Fontaine-translated title. It's originally named pateticheskaya, which meant passionate or emotional, not at all pitiable."

He crossed his arms, insulted as though he was the one who came up with the original title.

"Roughly half a millennium past, the masses attributed Safed's demise to the strains of their final composition, the so-called Pathétique, a mere nine days preceding their exit from this mortal coil. The prevailing narrative spouts a tale of a tragic surrender to the clutches of undiagnosed clinical depression. I find such simplicity in analysis rather pedestrian, wouldn't you agree?"

You took a while to process his inquiry before hesitantly nodding.

"I… I think so."

Zandik smiled.

It's hard to tell if it's genuine, especially when such a protruding mask hides his eyes. Should its existence vanish, you aren't certain you'd see a soul within his pupils either.

"Safed hated this piece, believing it should be cast aside and forgotten. They were living in the woodlands when they wrote it— and when they decided to live with their benefactor, it was suddenly difficult to tear them away from their work."

You nodded to cue that you were still listening.

"They have an incredibly deep connection with their works. One might say they see in tunes rather than color."

You nodded again.

"Your inclination towards a perpetual affirmation of propositions, presumably to veil any potential lacunae in your cognitive purview, does not escape me. It is, if I may be so bold, your agreement that conceals your specter of unfamiliarity, right?"

You rarely understand a word he says when he is in this passionate state. You just nod as if you knew.

"Adorable," Zandik chuckled.

His voice was chillingly low yet… comforting.

"Your sincerity constitutes an enchanting facet of your comportment."

He had to be teasing you.

"Although…" Zandik grabbed a few locks of your hair as though it was slimy and unpleasant— quickly retracting them with a disapproving tilt. "You could stand to utilize more (h/c) hair dyes. How is it conceivable that it has returned to white yet again?"

You opened your mouth but Zandik raised a finger.

"No. I am the scholar here. Do not answer."

You giggled. "Understood, Doctor."

He grinned, inadvertently showing off his pointed canines.

"What a good test subject you are, my dear (Y/n)."

Whether good was a subjective or objective assessment or not was up to interpretation.

The mid-concert intermission began, allowing Lady Columbina's pressured musicians a 20-minute sigh of relief. Zandik ushered you to the back where the Lady Harbinger reposed on a white sofa, her cheek brushing a visibly soft and cloud-like pillow. The bright backstage lighting made her seem ethereal.

She looked like heaven, but Zandik would argue that "(Y/n)" is the true epitome of the word.

"Greetings. As expected, you'd initiate conversation at the earliest convenience." She cooed. "You look younger today, Doctor."

"You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment, Columbina." Zandik scoffed. "How many times will we rehearse this canned script until it is a learned lesson?"

"Perhaps it shall end on the day you refrain yourself from recreating… perspectives."

"Since my encounter with the Dendro Archon, I have not revisited that notion."

Columbina's gentle smile dropped coldly. "You know that your segments are not what I am referring to."

You looked back and forth between the two. Each of them was a distinctively unique person and it's a challenge to take your eyes away from the other.

Hence, when you felt Lady Columbina's eyes on you, you shook and straightened yourself before bowing stiffly.

"G-Greetings, Lady Columbina!!!"

Her gentle smile resurfaced.

"Greetings to you as well, dear Safed."

You blinked.

Dottore clicked his tongue, and Columbina laughed softly.

"Apologies, I meant to say (Y/n)— that is the name you go by in this era of humanity, right?"

You'd rightfully claim that between the three of you, you were the most human. Zandik has his clones, Columbina's origins are of strict secrecy, and you are a mere amnesiac patient. But the way she addressed you was sounding awful like stripping you away with that sense of humane identity.

"Yes? I guess?"

Columbina delightedly buzzed in your reply. "(Y/n)— truly a lovely name. That must mean that you're very healthy! It warms my heart to hear that name again. The other ones had terribly dull names, but if the Doctor had given you this title, then it must mean his research is finally drawing to a close."

Her remarks made little sense. You know little about yourself and trust only the Doctor's judgment. Should you trust her words, then it must mean (Y/n) isn't your real name…

But… that doesn't seem right either.

"Not quite, the name deserves no celebration," Dottore replied happily. "I merely ran out of translations. Bianco, Wit, Bái— what else is there? Ancient Natlan?"

"Scientists truly make for terrible poets— Why not try Inazuman?" Columbina offered.

Those words must have had a heavy weight to them because Zandik pondered for much longer than expected.

"Hmm. I'll keep that in mind," Zandik muttered. "Although it is preferable it does not have to reach that point."

"May I ask why did you bring them here?" Columbina asked.

"It's a bit of an unconventional experiment, but I've been exploring how to elicit positive associations with certain stimuli. Exposing them to music as I accompany them should cause them to associate the emotional response it elicits with being around me." Dottore hummed. "It would be asinine to put them in a chaotic yet controlled environment such as a theme park. While a racing heart may be effective, I shouldn't risk a (Y/n)'s well-being by subjecting them to roller coasters."

"Are you sure you're not the scared one?" You asked cheekily. Zandik rolled his eyes.

She shook her head.

"What a roundabout way of saying you're taking them out on a concert date…"

Columbina looked at you once more.

"Oh, but (Y/n), you appear unwell, my dear…" she pointed at stage left. "Why don't you fix yourself up in the nearest restroom?"

Dottore raised an eyebrow, which made you want to decline Columbina.

"I'm r-really okay, Lady Colum—"

"I insist."

Columbina smiled wider. Her laced mask cast a gloomy shade on her visage.

You had no other choice.

"O… Okay."

The halls that led to the restroom were mostly empty. Perhaps it was due to Lady Columbina's performance that made them patiently await the next song.

But there was one young man you encountered along the way. He had blonde half-way braided hair and purple-ish eyes. You paid him no mind as he circled a small rectangular paper, likely the concert's ticket, between his fingers. However, within a second, that paper vanished.

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him curiously, wondering if your eyes played tricks. He laughed, noting your attention.

"Ah! Sorry," he cheerfully gestured a small wave. "Didn't mean to practice in public."

The blonde man approached you with a smile.

"You're #9805, right?"

Immediately, you both got on the wrong foot.

Your nose scrunched, "I prefer (Y/n)."

The man flinched. "Oh, yikes! I'm not making the best first impression— nice to meet you (Y/n)! I have something for you."

You thought he was handing you his concert ticket for a moment but when you took a good look, it was a grayscale brochure.

And a white tulip…

"Um…"

"Needless to say, I'm something of a—"

"Trickster?"

"Magician, but an astute guess nonetheless!" He laughed sheepishly. "I was waiting for you, I thought you wouldn't go to the restroom."

So, did Lady Columbina plan this?

You caressed the binding and skimmed through the pages. "What's this for?"

"Father said you might be interested in its contents," the young man said. "That's all."

You blinked.

"... Are you saying you missed out most of the concert just to hand me this?"

He laughed awkwardly again. "My dear sister says I have a habit of missing a hint of romanticism when it counts, so I guess today's just one of those moments."

"Did you not like the music?" You scoffed, temper rising.

"Did you hate the composition? Did you not understand the e-emotion behind the chords? Don't you understand just how d-disrespectful that was?!"

"Woah, woah, I didn't say any of that." His eyes widened.

He didn't expect your voice to crack.

"I'm so sorry if you're offended— are you one of the original composers?"

…

You took a deep breath.

… Why were you mad?

… Why did it feel like those songs mean more to you than meets the eye?

"Sorry, I just…" You shook your head. "I guess I'm not feeling well. Oh, no, I'm so SO sorry…"

An unknown part of you thrived to hear him praise the music. That same part pitied the composer who worked day and night to perfect their piece. It's an ugly voice, but it was sincere.

… What was wrong with you? Why did you suddenly lash out? What was going on?

"Oh, well there's no need to be sorry then." The blonde man took his hat off and bowed.

"Farewell, Mx. (Y/n)!" He grinned. "The greatest magician in all Teyvat will take his leave. Thank you for your time!"

With the sway of his dark cape, he disappeared.

You entered the restroom to wash your face. It didn't do much to soothe your nerves. The lingering dread for your strange emotional mood swing remained.

To distract yourself, you read through the article.

The Enigmatic Legacy of Composer Safed

In the annals of musical history, few figures emerge as enigmatic and hauntingly captivating as the orchestral composer, Safed. Born five centuries ago amidst the ancient woodlands of Sumeru, this ethereal musician seemingly materialized from Vanarama with no familial relations.

Huh… So it's about the one who wrote the previous compositions earlier.

No wonder that blonde man asked if you were one of the composers. He was being a smartass.

A Fiery Finale: The Pathétique Symphony

Legend has it that in their final act of emotional expression, Safed penned the "Pathétique Symphony," a composition so emotionally charged that, overwhelmed with disdain for their creation, they purportedly set ablaze their woodland home. Seeking solace and escape, Safed accepted the benevolent offer of a city-dwelling benefactor.

…

Safed… burned down their house?

No…

No, that's not how you remembered that.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

That's not what happened. "Safed" didn't burn their house down.

Suddenly, you stilled. Your thoughts ran wild, but your inner rationale tried to force them to a halt. This peak in anxiety did not make sense.

… Why would an amnesiac like you know what happened?

A Swansong: Il Dottore's Beneficence

Their benefactor, now celebrated as our Lord Harbinger, Il Dottore, welcomed Safed into the city's heart. It was here that the truth unfolded: Safed had been grappling with hearing loss for years, an affliction that fueled their artistic brilliance yet cloaked them in a muffled world. They were unaware of their disability, yet thrived in their field.

…

Wait…

Before you began to read the final paragraph in Safed's brochure, you hurriedly went back to Dottore and the composer's vintage photographed portraits.

After seeing their face, you dropped the brochure in the restroom's sink.

You saw their face.

You saw YOUR face and Zandik's.

But not quite. That was you, but at the same time, it wasn't. Zandik looked stiff in those photos with "you", likely a product of the time since Kamera photography was used only in rare formalities that required a bit of dress up. But the "you" you saw was sickly way beyond the formal costumes. They had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair, but yours were all white.

White…

Safed… That's the Sumeru translation for white, isn't it?

Bianco, Wit, Bái— they're all translations for "white", aren't they? And if Dottore and Columbina's earlier conversations were to go by, the one after you would be named Shiro.

…

The one… after you?

"Tut tut."

You trembled at the familiar sound.

You slowly turned your head around and there he was, leaning against the restroom door.

"You were in the restroom for too long. It appears my suspicions were not unfounded."

Without waiting for a response, he approached with large strides. His gloved hands seized your stressed shoulders. The grip tightened harshly as he forced you to meet his intense gaze. Blood trailed from the corner of your mouth, and your anxiety heightened. He angrily bared his sharp teeth as he watched it stain his gloves.

And yet Zandik looks…

Sad.

And distressed.

He pressed his earpiece.

"Test Subject #9805 exhibits troubling symptoms. Hematemesis suggests a severe physiological response. Persistent manifestations of albinism in ocular and follicular pigmentation indicate underlying deformities. Immediate isolation is warranted for the researcher and subject's well-being."

His hand was cold. Skin imbued with silver nanomaterials after several operations, reminiscent of the age-old philosophical question: "Is it still the same ship if you gradually replace all of its parts?"

Then Zandik did something unexpected.

He dropped his hold and you prepared yourself by shutting your eyes as he swung his arm.

To hug you.

"I'm sorry, I have failed you again, (Y/n)," Zandik muttered. "I should not have raised my expectations."

"W… What? Why are you putting me in isolation?" You asked, rattled. "What have I done?! I just— I didn't do anything wrong! What did I—"

He shifted, dragging your arm to hug him back as though you were a little girl's doll. Zandik rested his head on your shoulder, shaking slightly.

"In your innocence, no fault lies. I thought I had accomplished what I had set out to do, and met unfulfilled expectations" Zandik gritted his teeth, voice somber. "Despite centuries of refinement, it appears that I still have room for improvement in perfecting the process… I was right. This deserves no celebration."

The doctor laughed sadly.

"When will I ever be proven wrong?" He asked himself as he wiped the blood off the corner of your lips.

He pulled away, pecking your forehead.

"I'm sorry."

Those were not the words you expected from his mouth, and yet you heard it more than once. I'm sorry. It does not fit his character, nor does the tender yet cold hug he had given prior.

You're scared. You're terrified. You know what was bound to come. You know what awaits you. White walls. Silence. Separation.

Solitary.

Far from a choice. Far from negotiable.

There's no amnesty.

And yet, the words flowed from you naturally.

"... I forgive you."

You have no idea why you said what you said. There's no certainty that you believed your own words. Zandik's lip twitched downward.

"You should not," Zandik croaked. "Why? Why must you always forgive and accept my selfishness? Do you derive satisfaction in seeing me in this state?!"

You opened your mouth to answer but were stopped abruptly as he grabbed your hair.

Zandik had always favored you compared to other patients. You know this very well. He's an evil man and the list of actions he had done that had harmed you in the name of science is at least two pages long upon your awakening. Yet, you were sure he liked you enough for he told you of his new exciting experiments. He scolded you when you left his research institute for fresh air. And he would hold your hand whenever you dreaded those thick injections.

You just didn't know he had it in him to fold from his intimidating facade just to kiss you like a desperate man.

Breathless under his control, he softly pressed his lips against yours. His lips were chapped and cold, and he took you in gently as though he'd break you. Zandik, as strange as it was, still seemed to prioritize your comfort over his needs. Normally, this tension would've made him so short-tempered. But this will be your last interaction. The doctor tasted your blood in his mouth, and he was nauseous at the thought of hurting you more. But he stopped. Even though he wishes to force all his pent-up desires onto you. Even though he wanted to love you thoroughly that you'd forget your name again.

Zandik whimpered quietly as he pulled away— sounding like a dog that would not sleep that night. What was left in between was a thin disappearing line of saliva and blood that quickly broke off.

The doctor should be happy he finally got to have a proper date with you after 9805 failed attempts.

But he's not content.

He was about to lean in for the second time but stopped himself. Selfish. To think he nearly saw you two finally walking down the aisle. Why was he always so selfish when it came to you? But those rhetorics mattered not in your head.

You were silenced. You were held.

You were loved.

"No." Zandik breathed in, laughing humorlessly. "No— I am the scholar here. Don't answer."

And you will be disposed of.

"Take them away." He spoke to his men calmly. They had entered long enough to witness what he had done. The men did not hesitate to grab you, thinking Dottore thought you no more than a mere toy.

But calm was deceptive. It does not convey the distress that chokes him.

Maybe…

Maybe in the 9806's trial… he'll have you as he always wanted.

The Fatuus that escorted you in was gentle. A silent guide. The expression on her face was clear that she wanted to extend her apologies as well but mustn't.

You already have a white tulip in hand.

Arlecchino already sended her regards in advance.

When she opened the door by tapping a card against the lock, she bowed her head. You let yourself enter without a fight. The room was pure white with the rest of the furniture matching the drapes. But Dottore didn't just provide the necessities. There were books, sketch pads, and other recreational materials.

As you were about to approach the center, something was off on both sides.

You looked to your left.

Two clear mirrors divided your room from the others. There's a sign on the left wall. Code #4135.

You stood, shocked, grieving at the sight of your predecessor. They were a mirror of you but with a different name— and an even worse state.

One had made a slight sound coming off their skin— rotting slightly. There's a tube connected to their mouth and you could see yourself— you could see them dripping. They had your face. Their hair and eyes were white. The nose was gone, leaving a gaping hole. Their neck was cricked back at an unnatural angle. You don't know if they're still breathing. They're still bleeding. They must've bitten off their tongue.

There's a lone white blanket that covers the rest of them.

You think they might be dead.

You think "you" might've died more than once.

THUD!

You jolted at the sound coming from the wall behind you. Upon seeing their body, you froze.

Code #032.

They were but a head. You wish you could only focus on that aspect, but you looked lower and your hair raised. They cannot feel the same, for they were almost only a spine left. The rest of them were their skeletal frame, guided by thin lines one can barely call flesh.

Their head banged against the mirror. The thought that the sound was what made you flinch earlier made you unwell.

They seem to be telling you something. Their breath fogged up the glass and their thinned white hair splayed across your view. Their mouth said something urgently you couldn't comprehend because their tongue was paper-like in size.

#032 was shaking. Their pain grew vivid in every movement that the room was starting to spin. You sensed their turmoil.

They looked like death.

You all looked like death itself, both the pretty and ugly ends of it.

"Don't." You whispered, begging as you knelt to their level. "You don't have to speak."

You laughed deprecatingly.

"We're not the scholar here. He is."

In every syllable, you saw the outline of their esophagus strain. The nerves were blueish purple. The little skin they have left on their cheeks is sunken. Their lips were gnawed, likely as a response to the pain they'd gone through previously. Fists of bone tapped against the glass, and you quivered, imagining their pain.

You were not afraid of them. You only mourned their anguish. In fact, you feel at ease to be in the presence of yourself from the past.

It reminded you of what "Safed" had allegedly spoken years ago.

Nobody understood the pieces you made and you wished you could conduct the first performance five centuries after your first death.

And now, here you are.

Seeing two "people" who do understand you.

And they share your face.

"Pathetically", the only one that can understand you is yourself.

You're all flies trapped in a web that the predator refuses to wrap and consume out of pity. Compared to the others, you looked fine.

But your lungs were blistering.

Despite their deathly ill and mutilated bodies, you were the one bound to die soon enough.

His experiments worked.

You love him.

You love Zandik.

And how tragic it was that the person who learned how to love him was doomed to perish.

In your last minutes, you recalled something vital:

As an outsider, your body was not meant for this world, but after encountering the woodland creatures and Zandik, it became tremendously difficult to part ways with it.

You coughed up yet again with a gentle smile on your face. Maybe you're not dying…

Maybe you're just returning home, for every atom in your multiple bodies was once part of the galaxy.

You are (Y/n) (L/n).

And you were not from Teyvat.

Much like the rest of the descenders, you have a quirk about you that sets you apart from the norm. For the travelers the world reveres today, it was their distinct determination and questionable age that was remarkable. Yours slightly titters to an inhuman level.

You can "clone" yourself.

Zandik and the "original" you wouldn't phrase it in that manner, but it's the easiest way to describe your talents.

"So, it is cloning." Zandik paused. "Mind letting me in on the science behind the process?"

He was an ordinary student when you both met. Far from a doctor, but at least he was a registered scholar in the Akademiya. Zandik didn't have an eloquent tongue as he does in the present, yet his curiosity burned all the same.

Which is why, back then, you thought his questions were cute.

Not dangerous.

"It's not that I can make copies of myself without consequences," you humored with a grin. "I'm just making… fragments of myself. Segments, if you prefer to call it that. It's a common ability for the people back in my world. None of us do it excessively— especially since we're kind of an invasive species."

Zandik raised an eyebrow, "is that a commendable trait?"

"My kind says so. Whether good is a subjective or objective assessment or not is up to interpretation." You answered noncommittedly. "I don't think that's right. Our soul splits apart until we're just… empty. We lose some memories in the process."

"But functioning?"

"In a sense, yeah, but we lose a part of ourselves like memories and well, hair color, I guess." You nodded. "Why are you so curious?"

"Since you have rejected my confession, I want to try my hand at seducing a copy of yours instead," Zandik said. You couldn't tell whether he was joking with his naturally piercing red eyes. "Until then, you are not allowed to asexually reproduce without my authorization. Understood?"

You laughed. Unaware of his arsonist crimes, you willingly indulged his words.

"I owe you my ears, so it's only right that I'll listen to your commands, Zandik."

"Good." Zandik grinned, shark-like.

"What a good test subject you are, (Y/n)."

Centuries later, that closing sentence will continue to remain true.

Since then, his life has changed. Multiplied, even. Upon studying your genetic makeup, he found ways to duplicate himself as well. Despite his feats in science, Zandik remained unhappy.

Deep down, all the Harbingers pity the Doctor who cannot save his most loved one. That includes both Columbina and Arlecchino.

No one protests even when harmful orders are given; everything appears fine until the symptoms are felt. Because the organism— the astral descender— has no nerves or voice, he continues to assume that the patient is not in pain.

The patient needs peace but because they are not to speak, they remain silent, and the need persists.

The patient wants to eat and breathe fresh air, but because such desires might hurt the feelings of the doctor who thinks he has done everything needed, the patient remains quiet, contemplating desires out of fear of reprimand.

The original (Y/n) (L/n) suffers in silence. In a white room only accessible by a man who continues to nurse his unrequited love: Zandik.

No one else can enter this room.

He won't allow it. Only he can be obsessed with you.

The thought of you haunts him like a smiling reflection upon window panes— like a gift of a Trojan horse with nothing but your echoing laughter and hospital monitor beeps inside. Your thin limbs were marching clock hands with rusted gears that miraculously function till the end of time.

What is immortality for if every day was a death loop?

It is such a lonely concept…

You ought to be thankful that he's willing to be your eternal company.

"I endeavored to elicit a reciprocation of my sentiments from the latest subject. Regrettably, their discovery of my antecedent experiments transpired prematurely. Nevertheless, as asserted several times, it remains but a temporal inevitability until an iteration of yourself succumbs to having an interest towards me." Dottore hummed.

He held your feet.

He held Test Subject #01's feet.

If you spoke up, he would've bragged about how he was right. How people do love your songs. But no one knows if you can't or won't answer him. This one-sided conversation is the punishment for his hubris.

He took out a sharp knife and cut off one of your toes. You no longer feel any pain as you bleed into his hands. What a kind man the doctor is, for he blocked all your pain receptors years ago. It's a good thing you regenerate quickly.

That's what he loved and hated about you.

You only gave and gave.

But you never ran out of soul. You never ran your heart fully dry— and that left you ill. Zandik could never let you go.

You're already a part of him.

Hence, he must not make clones of exaggerated memories. He wanted your perfect yet healthy replica.

Praise be the white corpuscles extracted from your veins which had brought him new life. You were the reason for his research. You were the breath that gave his segments life. You were his muse, much like he was yours.

"Fear not, (Y/n)," he reassured with a measured tone. "Upon my mastery of the arts, I intend to reinstate your autonomy and awareness. Perhaps then, you shall find the organic inclination to reciprocate affection toward me by the 9806's trial. Until then…"

In other words, give him more time and he'll reinvent love.

He leaned his forehead against yours.

"I'm so, so sorry."

And ultimately, he'll reinvent YOU.

"Can I have another piece of your scalp?"

"No."

"Do you not understand the weight of this research or must I expound on it further in another three-hour presentation?"

"Alternatively, you could start by saying that you're sorry," you raised an eyebrow. "I'm still not over the fact you randomly cut a piece of my ear when I was asleep, doctor. You know, I heard from the aranaras that white tulips are given to someone when they ask for forgiveness."

Zandik smirked.

"Regrettably, it seems that such an occurrence is unlikely to transpire. Do not expect such words and gifts from me."

You smiled.

"We'll see, we'll see."

Taglist (pls notify if you wish to be on the taglist for the last two): @average-yandere-enjoyer @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl

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scaranation · 1 year

Note

hi hi !! could you write an ANGST with Dottore and Zhongli where we break up with them? maybe in dottore we break up because we can't bear(?) his experiments anymore and in Zhongli one we feel not enough/that he loves someone else (maybe Guizhong?)

Gn reader or Fem!reader(if u write for fem. sorry if u do not,i couldnt find rules and im really really sorry ! :( ... )

p.s will there be To love another 3rd part? it's my fav fanfic ever !!

love your work ♡♡

hihihi i know this is like super late but this prompt is literally so good 😭 also im thinking of writing another part to that fic, but i just dont know where to take it so ive been procrastinating haha

dottore’s part is kinda ooc bcs let’s be real if he’s that whipped for reader he wouldn’t let them break up with him, but im going to pretend that he’s not as much of a red flag as he actually is 🤭🤭

༊*·˚ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅

Pairing: Dottore x GN!reader, Zhongli x GN!reader (separate)

Content: Angst, no comfort. Mentions of canon typical violence, assumed past Guizhong x Zhongli

DOTTORE

“It seems my beloved has finally thought to visit me.”

You cringed from the overpowering metallic scent as you stepped into your boyfriend’s laboratory, trying hard not to look at the borderline gruesome sights on the clinical beds.

Dottore cleaned the blood off a bone saw he was holding, setting the instrument down carefully before walking towards you - eyes lit up, but holding a gleam different to the maniacal one he usually possessed.

“How was your day, my love?” His voice was humorous. He seemed to be in a good mood, humming lightly while opening the door for you.

“It was fine.” You sighed as you felt the weight of Dottore’s harbinger coat settle across your shoulders, registering the touch of his hand as he pulled you into him and away from the Snezhnayan cold.

“Has that coworker of yours still been bothering you?”

“… Don’t try pretending.”

“Whatever could you be talking about?” The Doctor’s grip on you tightened.

“I wouldn’t wish death on anyone, even if they annoyed me to that extent.” You sighed, finally tilting your head to stare into the planes of your lover’s mask.

“Oh, they’re not dead. Rather, they’ve been subject to some biological modifications of an experimental kind - would you like to see?”

You gritted your teeth.

“I’m hungry, don’t make me lose my appetite.”

“Good thing I have a nice place booked for dinner, my love.”

His compliance was almost uncanny.

Normal couples gazed affectionately into each other’s eyes over meat and wine, fingers fondly interlaced over the dining table. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to return Dottore’s adoring scarlet gaze, and his hold on your hand felt more like a death trap.

“Is the food to your liking?” He asked. He hadn’t touched any of the vegetables on his plate, only biting into the steak.

“Yes. You should eat greens, too.” You commented.

“Mm. Why don’t you feed me, then?” Dottore only tilted his head, smiling eagerly. Recently, a fear of you being turned into one of the harbinger’s countless experiments had taken hold, and it was this same fear that drove you to play right how he wanted. And so, lifting your fork, you fed him with all the patience you could muster - staring into those deep red eyes, feeling like nothing more than prey. Those eyes would’ve been the last thing many others had seen before their death, the end of their lives marked by that sadistic grin. You almost shuddered at the thought.

Normal couples slept under starry nights reflected in their star crossed hearts as they cuddled close under soft sheets. Normality was such a strange concept, you decided. Despite the fact that you were doing just what normal couples should, the situation was still absurd. However, your fear of becoming another one of the harbinger’s lab rats wasn’t unfounded. You mulled over this fact, almost snorting at the juxtaposition. Here you were - wondering if the man who cradled you in his arms would strap you down to a table in the name of research.

“My love, are you still awake?” You felt Dottore’s breath ghost over your neck, his face pressing into your nape. With a rustle, he readjusted the blanket over your shoulders.

“Yeah, I can’t sleep.”

“Nightmares, perhaps? I have a pill you can use for those.”

“No, just… thinking.” You squirmed in Dottore’s hold. His comment only reignited your spiralling train of thought, pushing you further to the point of resolve.

If he could kill his clones - literal versions of himself - then what would stop him from doing the same to you? Even if you remained alive, would you have to continue to tolerate being exposed to such grotesque horrors?

It was simply better to break things off, before you no longer had the option to.

Breakfast.

The first meal of the day, and the last meal you’d share with your boyfriend.

“Dottore.”

“Yes?” The Doctor’s head jerked up immediately from where he was chewing. You could feel the undivided weight of all his attention sinking into you, and for a moment, you faltered. He was notorious for paying little mind to anyone else, and yet, he treated you with the utmost attentiveness. You steeled your resolve.

“I think… we should break up.”

Silence. Then, the grating scrape of cutlery against crockery.

“Why.”

Not a question, more of a demand. You gulped.

“Do you want me to be honest with you?”

“Yes. Is it something I did?”

“I can’t bear your experiments anymore, Dottore. They’ve gone too far, and I don’t think I can stomach living normally with you as if I don’t know the kind of things you do. Even worse, every day I’m wary that I might be your next test subject - whenever I walk into your lab, I wonder when I’ll be the one under your needles. It’s exhausting.”

Another beat of silence. You could see Dottore’s chest rising and falling at an increasingly fast pace, his jaw tensing.

“I would never, ever do that to you. It’s ridiculous that you’d even think that, and as for your prior reason… I can arrange for you to come to the lab less often…”

“So you’re just going to cover my eyes and act like you’re not doing anything with those experiments? I just can’t be ignorant here, nor can I trust you. If you can get rid of your clones so easily, then what am I? What value do I hold-“

“Those creations do not even compare to you.” Dottore finally snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. You flinched, and he felt as though his lung capacity had been halved. His head spun in tandem with the rapid tightening of his heart, his mouth twisting into a scowl.

It hurt Dottore, realising that you didn’t trust him. That all those fond, intimate memories together were just you acting out of fear - or at least, the most recent ones were. It hurt, beyond anything Dottore thought he could inflict on his patients. And even worse, you were frightened of him. The light shaking of your shoulders and the way you flinched were enough indication.

The Doctor enjoyed seeing his victims become terrified, but that same terror on you almost made him feel like he’d been the one stabbed with a scalpel. Foolishly, he’d fallen victim to his own maniacal research tendencies.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just meant to say… that you can trust me.” Dottore raised his hand towards you to cup your cheek, wincing when you avoided the action.

“I tried to, I really did. But I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

“My love, please.”

The second harbinger was begging. What a strange sight.

“Let me go, Dottore.” You murmured shakily. You saw hesitation, hurt, and anger flit through those vermilion eyes you’d used to love. But that love you held for him had only smouldered into disgust and fear.

“… Then go. Get out of my sight.” Dottore hissed, his teeth clenching at the wary expression on your face.

It was painful, how you walked out without a second glance.

“My love…” Dottore whispered. He stared at the closed door, almost expecting you to return. He repeated the phrase, over and over to himself - his face contorting into an expression he himself couldn’t name. Was there truly an emotion as human as this? It was a twisted, unimaginable feeling the Doctor couldn’t categorise. The syllables came off his quivering lips, as though by uttering them he could make you come back.

But the truth was, your not-so-normal relationship was over. Perhaps, Dottore would return to the normality of his heartless experiments, and you’d return to the normality of a better fate than one you’d endure by his side.

He only regretted not being able to hold you more.

ZHONGLI

There were only two letters between you and your lover, but those two letters seemed to stretch wider every day - ‘I’, and ‘M’. The seemingly infinite synapse between mere ‘mortal’, and ‘immortal’.

Zhongli was undeniably a mortal vessel, but he as a being was not. He’d lived eons before you, loved and hated thousands. He’d experienced things you couldn’t even fathom, and yet, you couldn’t comprehend how he treated you as though your fleeting existence was the centre of his much larger world.

Whenever you looked into Zhongli’s amber eyes, heard his deep laugh, or felt his gentle caress, you could only feel insignificant. After all, he used to be a literal god. You couldn’t help the guilt that gnawed at your conscience, couldn’t stamp out the incessant feeling that he was too good for you, that you couldn’t compare to whatever lovers he’d had in the past.

“How’s the tea, darling?” Zhongli prompted. He sat with his back to the window, basking in an almost ethereal glow.

“Ah, I have yet to try it.” You shook yourself out of your thoughts to raise the cup in front of you. Zhongli only smiled warmly, but the gesture made your hand shake a little. You’d planned to break up with him today, and yet the way he still stared lovingly at you - full of infinite trust - made you feel terrible.

But how many others had he also treated this way? In his life, those others were probably far more special than you, possessing talents far more worthy of a god’s attention.

Suddenly, a shattering sound pierced your ears, and a scalding warmth set into your thigh. You looked down in a daze, before snapping out of it upon realising that you’d dropped the teacup.

“Are you okay?” Zhongli was at your side in an instant, mopping up the spilled tea and collecting the broken fragments of the cup.

“Yeah.” You gritted your teeth again. How dare someone as insignificant as you make Rex Lapis get down on his knees to clean the mess you’d made. It simply made you feel as though you didn’t deserve such a wonderful man at all.

“You’ve been distracted lately. Is there anything I should know about?” Zhongli asked slowly.

“No. Well, yes.” You stammered. You hadn’t planned this out very well, and your heart squeezed tighter.

“Go ahead. You know you can tell me anything, darling.”

A warm hand came to rest against your cheek. You closed your eyes, feeling tears build and slip down your face.

Zhongli wiped at your tears, holding your hands in your lap as he looked up at you worriedly - his thumbs tracing comforting circles on your knuckles. He thought of saying something, before deciding against it. He knew it was better to let you speak first.

“Let’s break up.” You blurted, feeling Zhongli’s fingers come to a complete stop.

“We can work through this, tell me why first. Has something been upsetting you?”

Your tears fell harder. He still showed you so much kindness, never jumping to any conclusions.

“I feel like I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, it makes me feel guilty that someone like me can have you.” You sobbed.

“Darling, you know it makes me happy to just spend time with you. That in itself is fair exchange, no?”

“But what makes that so special? You’ve lived for so long, you could’ve done this with anyone else, and you probably have. Who am I in comparison to someone like Guizhong?”

Through your blurred vision, you could still see Zhongli’s form kneeled by your side. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.

“You and her are both special, in your own way. Why don’t you calm down a little first? I can pour you some more tea.”

“I’m so selfish, Zhongli. I really don’t think I can stay with you.”

“Do you really want to leave that badly?”

Your heart twisted. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay in his warm embrace, his soft understanding gaze. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“… Yes.”

“Very well then. You know I won’t stop you, because I just want what’s best for you.”

The light grip on your hands released, and as you stood up everything seemed to spin.

“Thank you… for everything.” You murmured, stealing one last glance at the man you loved - before leaving.

Zhongli remained where he was for some time. In his life, many things came to an end, but this hurt a little more. When Guizhong had left him, it was due to her passing - the youthful Rex Lapis had found someone to blame, to ventilate his grief. But the most crude fact in this situation was that you were still alive, and had chosen to leave him of your own volition. Zhongli himself had made this happen.

However, an archon’s most prized trait was impartiality. Therefore, Zhongli knew that he had to maintain indifference. He refused to let himself chase after you, or force you into anything. It was only unfair, if an immortal were to impose such a fate onto a mortal.

And so, he could only watch as you faded from his life, like the cyclic ebb of waves on an ocean shore.

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lavandulawrites · 1 month

Note

Can you give us some Yandere Dottore please ☺️

Hurry Before The Dinner Gets Cold

Yandere Dottore x reader

Dinner with Dottore is never pleasant.

Masterlist

Word count: 794

The silver wear clinked against the porcelain plates. The room were dimly lit, making it a almost cozy atmosphere. A butler and a maid were standing against the east wall, almost like they were apart of the decoration. The wind howled outside.

In front of you sat Dottore. His gaze fixed on the beef on his plate. Blood was oozing from the rare steak as he cut into it with precision. Like a surgeon.

His eyes met yours. “Are you not going to touch your food dear?” his deep voice thick like honey. His expression one of concern. “I know that you do not trust me, but you need nutrition.”

Your mouth a tin line “I am not hungry”.

His stare unyielding. His eyes a replica of the dark blood in the many test tubes inside if lab. “Really?”

“Yes” you nodded trying your best to remain expressionless.

He hummed as his gaze bore through you. “Why do I find that hard to believe?” he tilted his head. He sighed and snapped his fingers. The butler hurried to him and bowed his head in an almost inhuman way. “Bring me the chef” he ordered. The butler nodded and hurried out. Not too long after the chef was standing beside Dottore.

“Is it perhaps that the food wasn’t to your liking?” Dottore raised a brow and nodded towards your untouched food.

You quickly caught onto his scheme and shook your head. “N-no! It’s not that at all!” you waved your hands and forced your lips into a tight smile.

The Harbinger’s eyes wandered over your features. “Are you sure darling? If your meal is not good enough, I will have to punish the chef. After all your happiness and comfort is the most important thing for me” his face twisted in concern.

Your eyes flickered to the chef who’s face was drenched in sweat. He was shaking. You gulped “I assure you the meal is not the issue”.

Dottore hummed. “Are you perhaps not feeling well?” his expression unreadable. “Everyone get out” he ordered. The servants and the chef all exited in a hurry leaving you alone with the blue haired man. “Let’s make a deal” he leaned forward and folds his hands hand rests his head on them. “You eat up all the food on your plate and I will spare the chef. Sounds good doesn’t it?” he said with a unsettling grin.

You looked down in your plate. With a shivering hand you lifted the fork to your lips. You closed your eyes to calm your nerves. A hum could be heard from opposite of the table “You better hurry for the dinner gets cold”.

You held your breath and shoved the fork into your mouth. The meat was tender and cooked after your preference.

“See? That wasn’t so hard was it now?”. You opens your eyes and were met with a sharp teethed smile. “You were afraid I drugged the food.”

You swallowed. “I have my rights to be suspicious”

“Of course my love” his voice melodic. “You were indeed right with your suspicion.”

You dropped your fork. You entire frame shaking. “What…?”

“Oh come now. It’s not dangerous. It’s just a way to get you a little more relaxed. I am starting to get sick of your small riots, so I came up with a solution. This drug will make your mind slowly but surely more submissive. I really do love you you know, but u can’t have you keep hurting yourself” he smirked. “Though it seems that I have to find a new way…” he sighed. “But worry not… I will have your memory of this dinner wiped. Just like last time…” his red eyes gleaming with something sinister.

Your eyes widened. The hair on the back of your neck raising. “Last time?” your voice shaky.

Dottore smiled “Yes darling. Wiping someone’s memory so mere child play for a man of my calibre”. He chuckled and rose to his feet. The chair scraping against the carpet. Like a animal he stalked towards you. He stopped behind your chair and leaned down. Much to your dismay you had to admit the doctor smelled good. Really good. His smell always bringing you a sense of comfort.

He leaned hand on the arm rest of your chair. His lips mere centimetres away from your ear. “Relax darling. This is for your own good you know?” his lips kissing your neck. He pulled away and placed a device against your right temple. When did he get that? The device glowed blue and it hummed slightly.

“Rest now…”

Darkness swallowed your senses and you fell into a deep slumber.

Dottore stroked your hair with a living expression. “A pity… I have to start over it seems.”

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heizlut · 2 months

Text

Me & The Devil

*an alternative (and more toxic) version of the original

TW: dark content, heavy manipulation, twisted behavior, gaslighting, somnophilia, dacryphilia, proceed with caution

tags: switch yandere fem!reader, yandere dom!dottore, mostly proofread sry for any mistakes

word count: 4.5k

nsfw under the cut

a/n: this is an alternative version of the original which means some things are the same but with new additions and a different ending. both versions are equally fucked up.

check out my masterlist here!

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷

Who would have thought that you would be the one to bring Dottore to his knees? He would do anything and everything for you. No one can recall just when you managed to get him wrapped around your finger. You both were the objects of each other’s depraved desires whether either of you knew each other’s intentions from the start or not. It’s hard to believe that anyone could match up to Dottore’s level of twisted manipulation, but you did, deliciously so.

—

You were always such a curious akademiya student; always off on your own and researching whatever you pleased. Your curiosity for the forbidden was becoming quite the talk at the akademiya. Your interest piqued when you found left over research notes from a previous student named Zandik. After asking around and getting strange looks from others, you were about to give up on your search for the man. You bumped into something hard causing you to drop the notes and files you had found and you land hard on your ass. When you looked up, you saw a tall man with blue hair wearing a mask that hid his features. You were immediately entranced by his mysterious aura.

He didn’t think much of you at first until he saw what had scattered on the ground. With a smirk, he held out his hand to you, “I apologize. I must not have been paying attention to where I was going.” You felt your heart race as your thoughts began to twist. You grabbed his hand, pretending to wince as though the pain from your fall was bit much to bear, “I should be the one to apologize. I’m the one who ran into you.” The man laughed it off and bent down to help you gather your papers to which you tried to quickly hide what they contained.

Your reaction made him raise an eyebrow under his mask, “What’s this? Do you have something to hide, little one?” You felt your face heat up at the accusation and the nickname. It felt like he could see right through you, but oh did it send delicious tingles right up your spine, “N-no.. It’s just-“ You sighed as you gathered your thoughts. “If you’d like, we could go somewhere else if you’d like to tell me about it?”, he offered with a smile that you couldn’t quite decipher. You nodded and gave a small smile in return setting your own plans in motion, “It would be nice to have someone to share this with. Thank you.”

You learned that the man was named Dottore. He listened to everything you explained with just a sly smirk on his face. The mask he wore made it hard for you to decipher his true feelings, but the fact that he had sat there and listened with some sort of intrigue to what you were saying made you feel like you were finally understood. He made no move to berate you for what you chose to have an interest in.

Little did you know that the files and notes you had found were all from him and his previous research from before he was expelled from the akademiya and changed his name. He was more than happy to entertain your curiosity. Initially, it shocked you when he offered his hand to you for the second time that day and asked if you would like to pursue your curiosities further with him as your mentor. Your shock morphed into secret satisfaction when you realized that you were getting the chance to act on your twisting thoughts. You gave him an innocent smile as you took his hand. That’s where it all began.

—

At first, Dottore kept some distance from you. You didn’t like that he did this. You wanted to be desired by him in the same way that you desired him. Little by little he began to cut you off from the rest of the world without you paying it any mind. It started with him offering for you to stay one night since it had gotten late and you had carefully feigned your worry about going home alone in the dark. You held back your giddy feelings and graciously accepted to stay.

Soon it became a habit to stay with him after long days of researching and experimenting together. You had your own sleeping quarters, which you had found to be a disappointment, but you knew you could turn this in your favor. Dottore was good at hiding his true intentions and the dark things he was doing without your knowledge. He was so careful to show you only what he wanted you to see. But he didn’t know you had been doing the very same since the moment you laid eyes on him.

Next, he made an offhand comment about you just dropping out of the akademiya and studying under him full time. He had only said it when you came to his place after yet another tough day at the akademiya. You had walked in with a dark and tired look in your eyes, dropping your heavy bag to the ground with a loud thud. Dottore tilted his head slightly at your demeanor, “Would you like to share what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” His words felt like it had lit you on fire from the inside. You wanted to take what was just your typical tough day of study and craft your words in such a way that would keep you even closer to him.

You walked up to the table between the two of you and let out a dramatic sigh. You leaned forward, your elbows propped up on the table and your hand resting under your chin. You made sure to arch your back just enough to give off the appeal you wanted to portray and looked up at him innocently through your lashes. From there, you began to go on and on about how you wish you could fully pursue your true interests without interference. He listened to you intently; his eyes travelled subtly across your features, drinking them in. As soon as you finished, he told you to simply drop out and he would take care of you. You took a moment to realize your plan had worked and looked at him with such admiration when he made his suggestion. Your silence made him want to comfort you, so with his own carefully crafted words he smiled, “It’s all up to you. But just know… You’ll never reach your true potential if you’re trapped under the akademiya’s thumb.” You acted as though you were mulling over his words when in reality your fantasies were running rampant in your mind.

“I can give you everything you need. All you need to do is say the word.”, is what he said as he watched the gears turn in your head. You looked up at him in such a way that made his heart skip, “I’ll drop out. Just promise me that you’ll help me pursue what I want.” To anyone else, it would have seemed as though you meant that you wanted to pursue your true interests in your research, but in truth, your strongest pursuit was him.

The smile on his face grew as he made his promise to you. If you could see the look in his eyes without the mask obscuring your view, you would have noticed that his smile held insanity and obsession. He wanted you all to himself and he was finally getting closer to what he wanted. So were you.

—

Days turned to weeks, which turned to months. You and Dottore had each other so caught up in one's web of manipulation. Both of you were none the wiser of what the other was doing. You acted as though you were dependent on him, letting him cut you off from the world. When was the last time you had been outside with the sun warming your skin? You laugh at the thought. Why would you care when you had everything you wanted right here? You would do literally anything to have Dottore all to yourself. You both kept each other close as he helped you get further along with your research. He gave you everything you wanted, no questions asked. He was oh so good to you. He never even asked for anything in return, to your own dismay...

It actually bothered you. Why wouldn't he ask anything of you? He could demand you to get on your knees for him and choke on his cock in return for what he's done for you and you'd do it happily. But he never did... You began to hint that you would like to return his many favors, but Dottore would just brush you off with a laugh and a smile saying that seeing you happy with what you were accomplishing together was more than enough. You felt conflicted at the words. They were sweet which must mean he felt something for you right? But you were also conflicted because you wanted him to just take what he wanted from you. One thing you failed to notice as the way his gaze on you would change when your back was turned from him. The way it travelled down your body, taking in every inch and curve, committing it to memory... It was dark and hungry...

You formulated a sly little plan in hopes of getting his attention. You reached up to grab a new test tube from a shelf that was just out of your reach. Making sure the little skirt you wore rose up to expose a bit of the roundness of your ass. Your breath hitched with excitement when you felt a hand touch your waist. A hard chest pressed up against your back. Hot breath on your neck... "Let me get that for you." His voice sent tingles straight to your aching cunt. Dottore had never touched you like this before... Your thoughts swirled in a frenzy in your mind. Fantasizing about him bending you over right there and fucking you senseless. You must have been silent for too long because he let out a breathy laugh, the test tube held in front of your heated face, "Aren't you going to take it, dear?" Your cunt clenched around nothing as you bit your lip and took the test tube from his hands, muttering your thanks.

His hands lingered, moving down your body. You tried to contain yourself when you swore you felt something hard poking your ass. Did he really want you as much as you wanted him? You wanted to look at him, see what kind of expression he had. You began to try and turn around only to be pushed further into the shelf, the spare glassware rattled from the impact. Dottore's sly smile that played upon his lips. The dark look in his eyes... Everything that was happening made your breath quicken. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh? Anything you want to share?", he was taunting you. He wanted to push the boundaries with you. You blushed hard. You were finally getting the attention you desired but you couldn't get the words out. He stepped away from you with a small laugh, "You don't have to tell me. Your face says it all." With one last smirk, he walked away, leaving you flustered.

—

Nothing else happened for awhile after that. This bothered you greatly. Fuck... You were so close to getting exactly what you wanted, yet you had to go and fuck it up by being unable to speak. But with what had happened, your fantasies ran rampant in your mind. You felt yourself grow slick with arousal as you lay in your bed. You kept replaying the way he had looked at you, the way he touched you... You let out a frustrated groan when your fingers just weren't enough to bring you over the edge. You wondered if he was laid up in his bed fantasizing about you in the way you were of him. You let yourself fall asleep, frustrated, sexually and emotionally.

Dottore stood there over your sleeping form. His cock stirring to life as he rubbed himself through his pants at just how innocent you looked as you slept. You rolled onto your back in your sleep, muttering his name. His eyes squeezed shut as he palmed himself with more pressure. You had said his name in your sleep. You must have been dreaming about him. Dottore lets out a groan of satisfaction. His sweet little student was thinking of him in their sleep... He pulled his heavy cock from his pants, pumping his length over your sleeping form. Little did he know, the slick sound of him jerking off and his soft deep grunts woke you. You opened one eye just enough to see his eyes tightly shut and his large hand wrapped around his cock. You wanted to use this to your advantage. You wanted his cum. Needed it.

You let out a soft breathy moan of his name, causing him to release all over your face with a choked groan. You did your best to act as though you were still asleep and simply dreaming of him. He smirked as he kneeled down next to you, tucking himself back into his pants. He admired how much prettier you looked with his cum splattered across your sweet face. Dottore takes his finger, running it through his release. Once he gathered enough on his finger, he gently pressed it into your slightly parted mouth. It took everything in you to not suck his finger and swirl your tongue around it to taste everything he was giving you. He hoped you would wake up with the taste of his essence still on your tongue. He removed his shirt and used it to gently wipe the remaining cum off of your face (much to your dissatisfaction). He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispered, "Sweet dreams, little one."

—

You woke up the next day with the taste of his cum still on your tongue. Your needy little pussy was soaked and aching to be filled by his cock. Images of Dottore touching you even more than he did that day in the lab up against the shelves, kissing your neck and down your body as his hands gripped your hips. These fantasies were eating you alive, but now you knew for sure he felt the same. Why else would he do what he did last night? You got up from your bed and make your way to the shower. Your clothes dropped to the floor and you let the water run down your body as your thoughts flood your mind. He consumed your life and you hoped you consumed his just as much. You were in so deep now, there was no going back. Not like you wanted things to end right when they had started getting good. You needed him. He needed to be yours. No one else's.

The days passed by and you felt as though you were going fucking insane. He made no new moves on you and things felt as though they took several steps back from the progress you thought you had made. Little did you know that Dottore was planning even more in his twisted mind. He was being so careful with his manipulation. Giving then pulling away. He wanted to drive you crazy and make you feel like you needed him in order to survive. He wanted your thoughts to be on him and only him. It didn't take long for you to notice him touching you more frequently. His fingers lingering as if he wanted to memorize the way you felt against his fingertips. He began pressing himself against you as he passed behind you. The feeling made you almost feral. Did he not realize your cunt was constantly soaked and dripping because of him?!

You made sure to dress a little more provocatively to keep his attention and his touches frequent. You were subtle enough to keep him guessing if you were dressing like this for him or if your style was simply changing as time when on. Archons did he hope you were doing it for him. One evening you sat across from Dottore, pushing your food around your plate with your chopsticks, caught up in thoughts of him pushing the dishes off the table and fucking you right there. He studied you curiously, wanting to pry into your sick little mind, "Is everything alright, dear? You know you can tell me anything. I'll listen." You snapped out of your dirty thoughts, looking up at him with a dazed expression. You rubbed your thighs together to ease your aching pussy, the frustration bubbling up to the surface, tired of playing fucking mind games, "What are we doing." He tilted his head slightly at your words, he sensed the frustration and wanted to push you further, "Whatever do you mean? We are research partners. I am your mentor. Does that not satisfy you?"

Your face heated up and you clenched your jaw. What was his deal? Didn't he want you like you wanted him? You took a deep breath and tried to compose yourself, "Thank you for everything you've done for me. I.. I guess I am satisfied." Before you could continue, Dottore cut you off, his palms pressed against the table as he leans over it, "Always so humble.." He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and leaned in even closer to your face. Your expression a mix of frustration and confusion. "Too bad I'm not satisfied", his tone dark. Your thoughts run wild yet again and he smirks, "Be mine. I can give you even more than what I give you now. After all... It's only fair... You owe me so much..."

You swore your pupils dilated, your breath quickened, and fuck, you were dripping. Dottore thought he was so clever for everything that had happened leading to this point. A sick smirk on his face which turns to slight confusion when your lips curl into a smile. You looked just as crazed as him. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to decipher just what exactly was going on. Before he could ask you, you closed the gap, slamming your lips against his in a heated kiss. Dottore gasped in surprise but it slowly morphed into a low groan as you gently bit down on his bottom lip. As you finally broke away, breathing heavily, he got up and quickly made his way over to your side of the table. He grabbed your wrist pulling you up and pinned you roughly against the wall.

The look on his face should have scared you, but it only served to make you even more wild for him. Dottore pinned your wrists above your head with one hand and caressed your cheek with the other, "What a turn of events, little one..." He leaned in, his lips grazing yours as he looked into your eyes with deep intensity, "You're not going to leave me. Not now..." He paused, his tongue flicking out to lick your lips, "Not ever." You let out a breathy moan. This is all you've ever wanted. Fuck, it was finally happening. You were practically shaking against him, not to be mistaken for fear but of unbridled arousal and desperate need. "I'm yours... and you're mine", your breath danced across his lips as you spoke. You rolled your hips forward to grind against his hardness. Your words and every sensation he felt with you in that moment made him snap.

Dottore tore open your blouse, buttons flying across the room. He let go of your wrists to cup your breasts, a sick sense of pleasure washes over both of you. If only you could see the deeply depraved looks you showed the other in this moment. You bit down on your lip as he pinched and rolled your pebbled nipples between his fingertips. He couldn't get enough of every little expression you made. He wanted to see more... One hand travelled down your curves and makes its way to your aching center, moving your drenched panties to the side. He tilted his head a bit, giving you a dark smirk as he gently and slowly pressed a finger to your clit, drawing a small, frustrated whimper from you, "Your little cunt is absolutely soaked... It's just begging for me to claim it."

Your gaze danced between his eyes, lips, and down to where he was toying with your swollen clit, "It's yours to take. Always has been." Your voice a mere breath, drawing a growl from his lips as he plunged two fingers into your cunt. Tears of arousal and relief slipped down your soft cheeks, your jaw hanging open in a soundless moan. Dottore leaned forward, licking the salty tears from your cheeks. Archons, it was such a disgusting act yet it made you pulse around his digits. "Did it feel like this in your little fantasies of me?", his tone was teasing and dark. A small depraved smile tugs at your lips as you let out a breathy reply, "This is even better." There was a glint in your eyes, a dangerous one, "I need more."

You pushed him away and a stumbles slightly, caught off guard and his fingers leave you empty. You didn't care so much as you were now quickly getting to your knees and fumbling with getting his pants undone. Dottore looked down in surprise. Everything you've been doing has been throwing him off. Did his careful manipulation actually work on you to make you like this or did you play your own little games with him as well? You smirked up at him as you free his heavy cock, pumping it in your small hand. He wished he could take a picture of how you looked right then. So fucking devious, as if you planned this whole thing. He was the one who was supposed to be playing you to get what he wanted... His thoughts were interrupted when you took his length into your mouth, a rumbling groan rips from his chest as he took in the sensation of your hot mouth and your your tongue swirling around his cock.

He gripped onto your hair, tangling his fingers in it as he began thrusting into your throat. You choked, your throat tightening around his thick length made his eyes roll back, "Thaaat's it... Take it." You felt so much bliss in this moment. Your object of desire was finally where you wanted him to be. Letting him throat fuck you was just too good. You felt his grip tighten and you knew he was about to cum. You fought to gain control again, pulling away and digging your nails into his thighs. He winced slightly and let go, allowing you to remove your mouth from his throbbing cock. Dottore narrowed his eyes down at you, getting pissed at the smug look on your face as you begun to stand up, "You're not cumming unless you're filling up my cunt." Your lips grazed his as you whisper, "Breed me. Make me yours, Zandik."

That was fucking it. Hearing his real name fall from your gorgeous lips was the final straw. Dottore grabbed you harshly, pushing all the dishes from the table and onto the floor. The sound of glass breaking was barely registered by either of you as he bent you over the table. One hand pushed the middle of your back down, pressing you harder against the rough wood as the other hand lined his leaking cock up with your dripping entrance, "This is going to hurt, dear." No words could describe the absolute fucking pleasure you both felt as he forced his way inside your tight cunt. Drawn out moans fell from both of you as Dottore sank deeper into you. Once he was fully sheathed, he gripped your hair tugging your head up and using his other hand to grasp your chin so you were looking towards him, "Open your mouth." His command had you immediately obeying. He smirked as spat into your mouth, "Don't swallow. Keep it until I tell you otherwise."

You nodded, the taste of his saliva sitting on your tongue made you wish it was his cum instead. He gave your ass a harsh smack and released his grip on your hair. Your head involuntarily thrown back in pleasure from the smack and your wet pussy clenched tightly around his cock. A dark, crazed chuckles left Dottore's lips as he grabs onto the fat of your hips and begins slowly dragging his cock from your core. With just the tip left inside, he pauses, making you wiggle your hips in desperation. His grip tightens, "Ah ah, you get what I give you, little one." A whine leaves your lips, but before you could make more noise of protest, he slammed roughly into you. His pace was unwavering as tears of pleasure rolled down your cheeks, trying your best not to let his saliva he had given you earlier be swallowed or fall through your lips you were struggling to keep closed.

The way your gummy walls gripped and lubed his cock was highly intoxicating to him. He was finally having his way with you and he wasn't about to let this be a one time session. Depraved thoughts clouded his mind as he fucked into you, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix, making you cry out through closed lips. Dottore's thoughts ranged from impregnating you, keeping you naked and restrained to his bed, making you free use for him and only him. What made this somewhat funny in a fucked up way was that you were thinking the exact same thing. You were so desperate for him. Just the mere thought of his name made you insane. He was snapped from his twisted musings when he felt something gush down his cock on all over the floor. The absolute crazed smile on his face would be terrifying to any outsider, but he couldn't contain his emotions at the fact that he made you squirt all over his dick.

Dottore gripped your hair tightly yet again, yanking your head up to look up at him from over your shoulder. Fuck, you were so perfect with tears running down your reddened cheeks, your mouth obediently closed to hold the saliva that he considered a fucking gift to you. From that alone, his eyes rolled back and his cock throbbed inside of you, releasing thick, hot ropes of cum right up against your cervix. After letting his orgasm subside, he opened his eyes, looking directly into your fucked out gaze, "What a good little pet you've been... You may swallow." You swallowed the spit you had been holding in your mouth, not daring to break your gaze from his. The corners of your lips tugged into a sick smile, "Now you're mine and I am yours. You're never getting rid of me."

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷

a/n: the long awaited alternative version is here! i wanted to do so much more with this but it would’ve ended up as a short novel. hope you all enjoyed it😘

#dottore smut #dottore x reader smut #genshin smut #zandik smut #dottore x reader #genshin impact smut #yandere dottore #yandere reader #genshin dottore #genshin impact dottore #zandik x reader #genshin impact zandik

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catscidr · 4 months

Note

YANDERE DOTTORE X READER JAHEKWHZBAKNA

happy to see most dottore enjoyers sharing the same braincell. even happier to provide that good good dottore content (〃ﾉωﾉ) answering two asks in the same post bc it would be too repetitive if i made them separate agshfjns- next post will feature either childe or al haitham (depending on which one i finish first) (giving everyone a break from dottore for a hot sec) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: yandere dottore (obvs), not quite proofread, dottore is named zandik in the mini-fic includes: gn!reader, dottore, his clones are kinda there, pierro and the tsaritsa are also mentionned. a handful of headcanons + a mini-fic wc: 1,8k

-ˋˏ Despite what most people might think, Dottore isn’t a sadistic man. He only hurts people if it’s necessary- if it helps with his research- and even then, it’s not like he enjoys inflicting pain, he enjoys the knowledge he gathers as a result of such experiments

-ˋˏ ...That doesn't apply with you though. He likes to see you squirm, to do things that make you react, whether positively or negatively. He’s that desperate and needy

-ˋˏ He’s a man that doesn’t go out much because of his work. So how could you blame him for wanting your attention?

-ˋˏ I think he’d be the type of yandere to just be incredibly obsessed with you. Always having someone checking in on you (his segments, of course) to report back to him so he knows what you’re doing at all times, probably the type to have an entire folder with your personal information in it as if you were one of his test subjects

-ˋˏ Not to mention he would be extremely manipulative, too. Dottore is the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing; a handsome face with dubious intentions.

-ˋˏ He wants to have your attention 24/7, to never have you take your eyes off of him, but he can’t do that if he stays holed up in his lab. Unfortunately for him he's very clingy

-ˋˏ But Dottore is a patient man (he was able to create an artificial God y’know- that kind of thing doesn’t happen overnight), so he takes his time with you- getting to know you, having his segments stalk you (he’s not the one doing it, so it’s fine, right?)

-ˋˏ You’re just like a frog in a pot boiling water. If you put it in the pot immediately, it’ll jump out as soon as it makes contact with the hot water; but if you put it in room temperature water and boil it slowly…

-ˋˏ The Harbinger knows your “relationship” isn’t an experiment, but at the same time it’s hard to say that he isn’t studying you. Having a mask that obscures his wandering eyes is definitely an advantage

-ˋˏ It doesn’t matter who you are, he would bend his schedule just for you. He’s that thoughtful! Since he’s practically his own boss (aside from various deadlines and meetings) he can do whatever he wants. Who’s going to tell him off? Pierro and the Tsaritsa don’t care how he achieves results as long as he gets results. So, expect to “accidentally” run into him more times than a regular person would

-ˋˏ You’re a fatui agent? Suddenly one of his experiments requires him to watch how soldiers (you) fight and train. You’re just a normal civilian? He’ll figure out where you work and find excuses to come see you just to chat

-ˋˏ It’s even better if you work a customer service job. You work at a cute coffee shop? What a coincidence, he loves coffee! Now he’s a regular and you know his order by heart. (I like to think he actually hates coffee but powers through the bitter taste and energetic aftermath just because it gives him an excuse to bond with you)

-ˋˏ You work at a grocery store? That’s perfect, he’ll start doing his groceries at your store from now on (you don’t point out how every week his groceries- without fail- consist of mozzarella sticks, a whole rotisserie chicken, cheap red wine, a pack of cigarettes and a singular loaf of whole wheat bread.)

-ˋˏ If you’re not in the fatui, chances are you don’t know who he is (he doesn’t go out much, after all) so it’s easier for him to play up the “good guy” role (wolf in sheep’s clothing from before nudgenudge). He’s a very smooth talker

-ˋˏ Of course, you’ve heard rumors about “the Doctor”, one of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers, a feared man all across Teyvat. So it’s a good thing that your new friend’s name is Zandik and he’s just a normal surgeon that works in a private hospital! Nothing suspicious, 'course not

-ˋˏ Both of you engage in small talk whenever you cross paths. He’ll ask questions about you (even though he already knows the answer to them), all so that you can feel seen and heard- who cares about him, about what he does? This is about you. He wants you to tell him everything

-ˋˏ The kind of person to use the excuse that he had a Ph.D. for a lot of things. You whine that your shoulders have been sore for longer than usual? He’ll get up from his seat and get behind you, sliding a hand just under the collar of your shirt to press and prod at your muscles to check if there’s anything wrong (good thing you can’t see his expression from behind you), saying he "knows best" whenever the (your) human body is brought up

-ˋˏ His patience isn’t endless, however. If he sees that this isn’t going anywhere, that you seem to be keeping him at arm’s length despite your “connection”, he’ll just take things into his own hands. And even though he doesn’t really get off from causing pain, he’s not afraid to make you squirm either

It wasn’t unusual for you to grab a bite to eat with the Doctor occasionally. Working at a local coffee shop had its perks; one of them being how you could make drinks for free and eat snacks at a discounted price. Though you never needed to worry about money since your friend would always tip you handsomely, basically paying you for the snacks you brought to the table.

Closing shop was easy enough when you had someone to keep you company while you swept the floor and wiped counters clean. He sat at one of the booths, cup of coffee in hand (you started making it decaf when you noticed his nose scrunch one time when he drank his usual order), watching you work idly.

“Rough day?” you ask with a gentle smile, looking over where Zandik sat. Being quite some distance away from him you couldn’t catch the twitch of the corner of his lips as he sighed, bringing one hand up to rub his face beneath his pointy mask.

“You could say that” he grumbles, laying his arms on the table, holding his cup of coffee with both hands. The man tilts his head to the side, focusing on you rather than his pesky thoughts. You put the broom away and saunter over to his booth, sitting across from him with a plate of various pastries in hand.

“What’s on your mind? Maybe I could give some advice and help! Or you’ll feel better if you just... talk about it,” you chuckle softly, taking a sip of your own drink. Zandik’s gaze never leaves your form, his gaze burning the sight of your lips into his mind.

If he told you even a smidge of what he was thinking you would, without fail, run and never look back. Even the tamest of things he’s thought about you would drive you away. From him fantasizing about how your skin would taste, to how your heart would look like in a jar on his desk when he worked... he shudders, swallowing down the urge to do something impulsive. Zandik takes a slow sip of his coffee, eyes flickering from your lips to your wide, innocent eyes.

“Thank you for offering,” he begins slowly, “but that’s alright. I wouldn’t want you to worry about it,” he says smoothly, losing the tension in his shoulders to seem more approachable. With the first two buttons of his shirt undone, hair lightly tousled, and overcoat thrown over the back of the booth chair, he looked nothing like the deadly Harbinger he was. Looked like an overworked businessman at most.

You puff your cheeks, disappointed that he wouldn’t open up to you. You’ve been doing it this whole time, and yet he won’t talk about what was bothering him to you? It made your heart flutter- he was so considerate- but at the same time you couldn’t shake the idea that maybe he was hiding something. Inhaling slowly, you calm your nerves, deciding that today would be the day you confront him. After all, a good friendship is built on trust, and you can’t stay good friends with someone that hides things from you.

Oh, how naïve you are.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” you say gently, placing one hand on his. The feel of his rough hand beneath yours made you shudder, almost instinctively- are surgeons’ hands supposed to be this rugged?

“I want to be there for you in the same way you’ve been here for me...” you add, voice trailing off as your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I think you’re nice to be around. Don’t I owe you for the number of times I’ve complained about customers to you?” you say, chuckling lightly at the memory.

Zandik doesn’t react, not at first. His eyes fix your face with an underlying threat, gaze hidden by his mask. Although you can’t see his eyes, a shudder runs up your spine at the feeling of being watched so intently. Where have you felt this before...

“You’re right,” he responds quietly, voice hoarse. “You owe me.”

His words caught you off guard. Owe him? That was a joke! You were trying to lighten his spirits, to take his mind off whatever was troubling him for even just a second. How come you felt your nerves screaming at you to get up?

His free hand covers the hand you had laid on his, the grip on your skin becoming firmer the longer you two sat there. Your heart rammed against your ribcage, ears ringing from the sudden wave of adrenaline washing over you.

“You said you wanted to help me, right?” Zandik says in a sickly-sweet tone, leaning forward to stare at you, gaze unrelenting behind his mask. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you nod dumbly, staring back at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He grins in response.

Did he always have teeth this sharp?

“Then you won’t make my life harder than it already is by resisting, right?” he adds. You could hear how heavy his breathing had become in just a few seconds, how his hands had a death grip on your own. His cup of coffee was long forgotten; how could he possibly focus on something as useless as that when you were giving yourself to him?

The snow pelleted the windows harshly, essentially trapping you inside the coffee shop with him. Even the weather outside couldn’t compare to how cold your blood ran in the face of the Doctor; maybe if you had listened to your gut earlier you wouldn’t currently be skewered in the jaws of the shark that had been circling you for months.

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x gn reader #zandik x reader #zandik x you #yandere dottore #yandere dottore x reader #dottore headcanons

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yandere-wishes · 1 year

Text

𝟙:𝟘𝟘 𝕒𝕞 Dottore x reader

Synopsis: Dottore isn't the best at words, especially when it's past midnight and you both have an assignment due first thing in the morning. Yet as the clock tics onwards, he grows a bit bolder.

Notes: I'm trying a new writing style so please let me know what you think.

Editor: The wonderful @tealyjade-libran

💙🔹💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹

There's blood on his hands again. Just like yesterday and the day before that. Limp body drowning in a sea of half-done lab reports, and suicide notes, and love letters. Desperate words scribbled on warn notepads come to life to haunt him.

The dorm light overhead scorches his eyes. He thinks it's divine punishment on the utmost microscopic level. He feels so sick of playing mortal. So sick of the Akademiya that treats them like feeble rats.

and still, he calls it home,

Dottore's gaze lingers on your hunched figure. Matted hair and clouded eyes. Scrawling away at another assignment that's due upon first bell.

There's an unspeakable fatigue that lays heavily on your bones. Something that neither sleep nor furlough will fix.

You're tired

So is he.

1:30 am

There’s blood under his fingernails from clawing away at beakers and graduated cylinders. Desperate to have something to show, when morning comes. Something cohesive enough that his dreaded professors may finally see that his frantic hypotheses hold some bearings.

your wry eyes stare at him like he's an archon, a primordial deity. Like he's death frozen in a prison overrun with blooming life and wildflowers

The desk you two share is a mess. Border blurred between medical science and sociology. Where does the human body end and the mind begin? Where does logic decay and love take over?

What's the purpose of a heart anyway?

To sustain or to guide?

He wonders if you love him.

He doubts it.

2:15 am

There's blood slipping from between the cracks in his flesh.

You cradle his palm in your hand. Wrapping a cloth around the wound.

He wonders if you could do the same for the lacerations he hides behind sharp comments and blood-red eyes. When you touch him so tenderly he remembers he has a name, a body, a soul.

He remembers he's not just rogue fragments of past lives haunting a walking husk. He's Zandik, he's Dottore, he's everything you need him to be.

He tries to kiss you.

You turn away.

2:55 am

there's blood slithering down his lips, his chin, his throat.

You grasp at his heart, molding the darkness in your likeness. To him you are light. Not that he's seen the sun in days.

"You're beautiful" he mutters, hoping you hear him as you lay on the bathroom floor.

Ice-cold water sprinkles along his flesh as he tries to wash away the blood, the stress, the stubborn ache caught between his muscles.

This is intimacy, right? Not quite love, but a speck more than friendship.

You laugh at him from behind the blue shower curtain. A haunted, hollow noise. "Beauty doesn't matter much around here" you replied as you hand him his towel.

You switch places. Cold showers keep the sleep away. Or so you've heard.

"You're beautiful" you call after him.

Dottore thinks he hears you say something. Or maybe it's all the memorized data finally getting to him.

3:30 am

There's blood on his lips as he kisses you.

He wonders what you see him as.

A lover or a killer.

It's late and there are too many emotions to keep track of.

So you kiss, the final solution to an otherwise unsolvable query.

Deep and desperate. Teeth clashing and hearts melting as you both hopelessly search for the answer to all your woes.

Dottore leans down to kiss you again, he tastes of dying stars and burning metal.

somewhere a santoor plays a lone tune. Haunting the dormitory halls.

Dottore watches as you dance. Some botched replica of your eon-long traditions. He thinks it's funny how you're the prettiest girl in Teyvat. He thinks it's funny how he's the most monstrous thing to crawl out of the abyss.

You kiss again. This time with precise calculations and perfect time.

'I love you'

you both long to say.

4:00 am

There’s blood on his tongue, in his mouth, in his lungs. All he can think of is how much he needs you. How much he wants you.

There are so many pieces of you that he's been preserving inside himself.

Enjoying the sensation of glass entering skin as he impales himself with your shards.

Your fingers tangle in his hair. Tugging to try and make him feel your pain.

The Akadimiya is no place for love, you think as Dottore kisses the veins on your arm. Do you want him or do you need him?

There's still a lab report on the effect of neurological suppressants on vision wielders to complete.

There's still a four-page essay on the effect of broken cultural ties on Sumeru's populace to complete.

4:30 pm

there's blood on your dormitory floor. Pristine royal red and something more. Yasmin is the first to find it and you wonder if that makes all the difference in the world. You beg her to stay silent and she's too scared to decline. The pool of maroon evidence of some sort of love declared between two exhausted university students.

You like to think of it as a promise ring.

You can't deny Dottore of anything. Be it love or anything else, not in the mornings when you're semi-lucid and definitely not at night when you're too muddled to care about anything.

Dottore is destined for misery, not enlightenment. Knowing this you'll be sure to let him drag you down if he so desires.

He may as well fall into the abyss and you'll leap in after him.

You think the two of you confessed last night. Kissed until the breath in your lungs and fire in your loins had been exhausted. You're too exhausted from today's lectures to recall fully.

Still, you're heart races as he enters the room. Steps in the puddle and trudges towards you. Firm hands on your shoulders as you kiss again to the beat of the afternoon sun.

This is love you think as your eyelids grow heavier.

This is love he thinks as he spills his research into your veins.

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glassrowboat · 4 months

Text

From the Past: Dottore x reader

Word count: 2000+

Warnings: Gore, psychological torture implied, toxic dynamic, and Dottore. Yes, he is a warning.

Authors note: The doctor and reader were not in a romantic relationship previous to the contents of this fic.

The sounds of wailing screams must have stopped hours ago now as Dottore walked back into the lab, the silence he was met with almost startling compared to the banging fists and pleas for help that filled the air as he left. That is if he didn't already expect this outcome. To the doctor this is just another day like any other, even as the screech of metal dragging against the floor hit his ears, a black line worn into the ground from the amount of times he's opened and closed this particular cell.

Just another thing to fix later.

Dottore didn't even flinch as the smell of blood hits his nose in waves. Far too used to it to be nauseated now he walks through the door, bits and pieces of flesh coating the walls as blood reached high enough to cake the ceiling. The sound of a drip, drip, drip melodic. Though none of that mattered compared to the sight of a messy head of hair, the light slipping through the door way just enough to illuminate the figure that sat there as she turned to look at him.

“It appears you have outdone yourself again, my favorite test experiment. Did you have fun while I was gone?” Judging by the fact there's barely any remains to be had of the live test subject he threw in there with her, the answer had to be yes.

“I did.” Ahh, simple and to the point as always. Or at least as it always is now. “Welcome back Dottore.”

“Glad to be back.” Smiling down at her he offered what could barely be called a woman anymore a hand. She may have appeared just as she did once upon a time but the blood covering her mouth was a clear indication as to otherwise. Such a sweet little face so clearly hiding a brutal and ravenous creature only he truly knew the extent of. “Now that you are fed-”

Without even bothering to accept his hand she was right in front of him in an instant. Matted hair tickling Dottore's neck as she leaned in. There was no point to be startled, or to even act afraid, not when he knew this one would never hurt him. He was confident in that.

The quick sound of a sniff however still had him looking down at her with a raised eyebrow though. “You smell like the other harbingers. Were you in a meeting again?”

Dottore chuckled softly at her question. After all, a day (y/n) actually chose to converse was a good day in his books. “Yes, I did just attend meeting with the other harbingers,” he replied, his breath brushing over her cheek. “And what is to you if I did?”

“Well,” her eyes fell down to the floor, a sight one could almost miss in the dark room. “You used to tell me when you were busy. Now you just leave without a word.”

We used to be so much closer.

“Right.” Dottore grumbled. “Things have changed. My priorities have changed; I'm sure you understand. I can't be with you all the time anymore.” He has work to do, tests to run, papers to write, just…things that keep him busy over all.

Waiting for a moment Dottore looked down at her, waiting for that sharp tongue he had grown so used to. A comment along the lines of: ‘well maybe if you had told me of this before you wouldn't come across as such a prick.’ Yet the woman leaning into him said nothing of the sort, no sharp bite to share. Not this time.

Of course she wouldn't.

“Let's get you cleaned up, dear.” Placing his hand on the small of her back Dottore led her out the cell. It wasn't meant to keep her captive anyway. She wouldn't go anywhere even without a door that screeched in sheer agony everytime I was forced open locking her in.

The remains of what was once her meal left behind as he pushed her towards the small wash station right up until she was standing under the shower head. He didn't even bother to warn her as he turned the water on, already knowing she wouldn't mind. The freezing water beat down on her in a way that would have Dottore shivering in her place if their positions were swapped, but she barely showed a sign of recognizing what just happened.

There were no complaints of the cold to be had as she hissed at him about being a bitch. Simply standing there. Watching.

“Are you really so unbothered by this?” Why did he even ask that, he already knew the answer. Maybe, just maybe the sound of the water would drown out the pointless question, but he knew it wouldn't.

Dottore already made sure of that long ago. (Y/n), something that was somehow more than and less than human all at once. Needles that once filled her skin now having marked her skin with scars that were slowly being revealed as the blood washed off of her, swirling and pooling on the floor. Seconds passing by as the stark red faded to pink. It'll be clear soon enough.

“I'm fine. Just need a change of clothes.”

“Of course,” he sighed, watching as bits of flesh fell from the folds of her shirt that would have to be fished out of the drain later. “I'll have that settled soon. Just wash off, I don't need you dirtying the lab again.”

A small mutter of a “thank you” could be heard as he turned on his heel, already knowing not to bother to search for any trace of light in her like had used to so many times before. Humanity long since forgotten even before the first time she tore her teeth into a test subjects flesh. At least this time she didn't ask to be allowed to hunt her prey down.

It was so easy to forget the woman she once was when you look at her now, the name Siearra seemingly almost belonging to an entirely new person. If that is something she call still be called to this day. He certainly wouldn't say it was the best description for her.

These old tile floors his shoes clicked on as he walked to fetch her something to change into had once reflected a woman who would easily poke and prod at him with words alone. How something he once considered so annoying could be endearing now is beyond him.

Nostalgia, such an easily blinding tool.

If she said something like that today…well, she wouldn't even dare. No calling him out for being a jerk, the guts to snap back at him the instant something proved to be displeasing almost vanished into thin air. She truly had changed, just as was intended. These days she is monstrous, can tear through a carcass with ease. She is a pride of his, a true show of just how much his work has come to grow, so there's no point missing her old self. This is simply a change of behavior as any human being would exhibit after being put through-

Dottore stopped for a moment, tongue clicking as he realized just what was going on through his head. Self rationalization? Now? Pointless. There may be memories of (y/n) curled up in a corner of his lab before one of the few heaters, but that is simply the past. It doesn't matter if he and gotten used to her presence there, had begun to expect it. It doesn't matter that if he would comment on her habit of trying to steal the warmth all for himself she would tell him “be a good little scientist and discover this thing called a coat then.”

How he had to bite back a smile, had to bite back from saying “you could have just asked for a blanket you know.”

Enough of this.

Quickly grabbing a change of clothes for her Dottore turned back to the monster that was now before him. This was (y/n) now, no matter how alike they may look. The figure sitting down on the floor with a fluffy towel draped over her shoulders and still wet hair dripping droplets onto her skin was the present.

How she looked so much like a cowering animal as she sat there simply waiting for him to return. Before Dottore could even stop himself playful words tumbled out of his mouth. “You really need to learn how to dry your hair properly, dear. You look like a rat.”

And just how she'd always respond to his snark these days followed suit, a simple “okay.” He shouldn't have expected anything else.

Things truly have changed.

“Put on your clothes already. I don't need you catching a cold,” he snapped.

“Right. Sorry.” Getting up off the floor she slipped the clothes on, so numb seemingly to every little thing. There was no strong sense of dignity from her. (Perhaps stripped the moment he first heard her begging for the pain to stop and Dottore simply told (y/n) to shut up and push through like a good experiment).

“Don't apologize to me, just do things right the first time.” He could see her slowly mouth opening, most likely to apologize again. “I just ask of you to follow orders.” There wasn't a point to look at her to know she was nodding so instead he sat down, the old chair slotted behind the old workbench working well enough for now as he sighed. No matter how much he tried to calm down she had such an ability to rile him up. Silence or her old snark, it was all the same.

She once looked upon him so sweetly as another one of those novels were in those hands, some flowery title he didn't bother to remember printed over the cover. The anemones that were so intricately drawn however were a different story. How she cooed over the main love interest even as Dottore told her multiple times he wasn't interested in hearing about her love for romance.

(Y/n) ignored him easily, still chatting away to the point he had almost managed to tune her out between the catching of a quil on paper. That is until she playfully remarked “one day I'll find my perfect match just like in this story and then I'll run off and get married.” The rest of what she said didn't matter, not at that moment. To run off with someone and just leave him. That's what she had implied.

“Come here.” He ordered, now addressing the monster that sat a few feet away from him.

And just like he had forced her to, how he might as well have programmed into (y/n)’s once human brain, she obeyed. The skirt of the dress she had only just thrown on a moment prior dragging under her, halting and stalling the woman's movements as she crawled over to him. There was no dignity to be had, no pride, no hint of who she once was. Not even as she hung her head in front of him.

What a good girl.

“Look at me.”

His little monster, his prized experiment, his masterpiece, his dead look in her eyes that slowly settliled on him. Hesitantly so. This was how it was meant to be. It didn't matter of thoughts of doubt were running through her mind, if she was waiting to be thrown either a bone or her death penalty, all because now she can't leave. There's not a choice in the matter.

Perhaps he'd mourn the woman she once was, wish for her attitude to come back and hope to hear a comment or two that would remind him of her. But what would the lack of what once was do besides fill him full of unwelcome memories he doesn't want to recall no matter how much both of them still clung to their past?

“Have you realized your place in life yet? It's quite obvious but I want to hear you say it.”

Without missing a beat the little creature he made her be whisper out, “by your side.”

Yes, exactly. She's finally learned. And if she dared say anything else? Well, that's just another thing to fix now.

#dottore #II Dottore #dottore x reader #II Dottore x reader #genshin impact #horror #fem reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #Yandere x reader #Zandik x reader

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tavvattales · 1 year

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Hdjaoeif OK so like, hear me out,,,Dottore,,, it's a petty bet with Pantalone since the latter said Dottore pulled no bitches so he decides to prove him wrong if only for that sweet crispy extra funds and ofc somehow reader ends up getting roped into it as his s/o. Then the other harbingers are all like who's gonna break it to them that it's a bet except it would seem Dottore's just a smidge too possessive for it to just be a bet and he absolutely does threaten to poison their coffee of they do not shut up bc god forbid they ruin whatever he has going on with his favourite lab rat<33

GENSHIN IMPACT Character x GN!Reader Headcanons

Characters: Dottore

Pairings: Dottore x GN!Reader

Warnings: Bets are made, but are hearts broken??? Slight Yandere Dottore, use of Dottore's real name.

Taglist: @stygianoir @kurobakachan @hikomisan @silverwritesthings @minty-stays-tired @genshinparty @sange-de-romane @the-hapi-dm @insomniacwreck (ask to be added~)

If you like what you read, come and check out my Discord!

Click below for more~

Il Dottore

Like making a deal with a demon, Dottore shakes Pantalone's hand in disgust and a roll of his eyes, "Come now, Zandik. It's just a bet. Why the long face?" Pantalone asks with a mischievous glint in his gaze as he smiles toward Dottore who simply scowls at him, "Because if my deductions are correct...you're planning something, but as you say– it's just a bet. Rest assured, this mora will be mine," Dottore replies.

And yet, unbeknownst to Dottore–he will, unfortunately for him, fall hard. Especially since it's you. Finding himself hiding his flushed cheeks behind his mask, he seethes, "It's just a bet, he says. It'll be fine, he says..." Dottore mumbles to himself, making your ears perk up, "Did you say something, darling?" you ask, tilting your head to the side questionably, "Nothing to concern that pretty little head of yours, my sweet," Dottore says in return, placing a gentle hand atop your head and ruffles your hair as you smile affectionately toward him.

"My, my...if it isn't Zandik and his little–"

"If you say ANYTHING, I will poison your coffee."

Dottore says harshly toward Pantalone, who has just arrived. Intertwining his fingers between yours, he squeezes your hand protectively, "Zandik, is everything alright?" Pantalone asks, raising his eyebrow, "You seem...on edge," he continues, knowing full well what has been going on, "You're despicable..." Dottore mumbles in reply.

Seeing Dottore tense up, you glance between the two of them as if they had been hiding something, but knowing what they do, you knew it would be best not to ask questions. After all, they are your superiors, "Zandik, you're upset..." you manage to say, reaching up to touch his cheek, and upon feeling the warmth of your hand, he instinctually places a soft yet hungry kiss to your palm causing you to blush.

"Worry not, my dove. For nothing will ever take you away from me."

#rebby writes #genshin impact #genshin impact fandom #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fluff #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x gn reader #dottore x reader #dottore x you #dottore fluff #genshin dottore #il dottore #zandik x reader #yandere dottore #genshin yandere

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content-aquired · 1 year

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I need yandere reader x yandere dottore where they're both fucking insane for each other and both partake in the unethical experiments Fuck

#genshin dottore #il dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #genshin impact dottore #bottom dottore #sub dottore #dottore #yandere genshin #yandere dottore #yandere reader #i want to fuck him #till he crys #zandik #fatui #webttore

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throwaway-yandere · 1 year

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"Aren't You Supposed To Hate Me?" (Yandere Modern!Il Dottore/Reader)

CW: mild yandere

the real a/n: if you see me putting too many sylvia plath references, no– no you did not. Also, webttore rights. I promise he's not that bad bakery anon pls don't kill me-. ALSO LOGO'S MADE BY ESTHER ANON!!!

Mother of Klee, Alice’s note: When your bakery opens, can you make some Eton mess? What? “That’s not on the menu…?” Well, you should add it! My darling Klee looks adorable eating strawberries! Oh, but you're not leaving Teyvat Pro, right?

Yandere! 1k Idol Match-up Event

---------

According to what people have said about you, you exude calmness. And that it’s a strength. That your soothing and somewhat “motherly” presence puts you one step forward more than most people. But why isn’t your composure congruent with the frantic screaming inside of you that begged this lunatic to quit clutching your baking supplies?

Damn, this isn't the time to NOT be assertive, assistant (Y/n). Pull yourself together.

"Please stop. You're strangling it."

"We all die, (Y/n). The sooner you internalize that, the better."

The man in front of you is none other than your boss: "Il Dottore", the man behind the idol group ADDICKTZ's creative decisions. You have been given the responsibility of maintaining order among the original 4 ADDICKTZ members while he deals with the second batch after he chose you out of the other 22 interviewees.

"Sir, we're just baking. Please use a proper measuring cup. Aren’t you supposed to be a doctor–"

"Master. Not sir. I suggest you speak to me in a more respectful tone, Assistant (Y/n). The mere fact of your utility does not make you indestructible."

"I understand that very well, sir– Master, but please put the dough down. I cannot allow you to do the frosting at this rate."

Dang Akademiyan scholars and their honorifics.

Zandik huffed, unsatisfied, before leaning back on his chair.

"Mind you, I'm a licensed surgeon." He boasted snarkily. "I'd certainly outmatch you when it comes to steady hands, assistant."

"Well– shame that a medical degree does not automatically mean you'd be good at art, then."

"(Y/n), did I hire an imbicile? Answer me, who exactly are you working for?"

"You, Master Zandik."

"And my occupation?"

" ADDICKTZ’s Creative Director–"

Zandik smugly raised an eyebrow.

"... I admit defeat."

ADDICKTZ values both of your artistic inputs. Even after work hours, you've done what you can to support DCKZ. You helped Diluc choose a haiku to confess his emotions not long ago, and more recently, you aided Zhongli to find inspiration in contemporary poetry for his lyrics. Sir Zandik, on the other hand, would help the group's plans progress from simple masquerades to a magnificent mashup of VISUAL Kei and distinctive pop elements with unbuckled bones facing the front view just tasteful enough to adhere to the unit's usual aesthetics.

Of course, these tasks are obviously trivial in comparison to what your "real work" entailed, and the CEO would split hairs if you joked about retiring. The doctor is no different; in fact, he is the most guilty of this dependence. Normally, superiors wouldn't break into their staff members' closed bakery at 2 in the morning on a Saturday, but Il Dottore has a few loose screws.

Partly, it's your fault too because Zandik has a crush on you.

That's not your ego talking– he admitted it three days ago. Maybe you would've accepted that confession if he didn't utter another word, you did hear Sohrah and the other staff members mention that he's some eye candy. The nose, the eye pits, the full set of pearly white teeth– those mean nothing when the person is Zandik. His personality is as foul as the things Ayato bought in the ADDICKTZ's hotpot game. You’re never crossing the water for an obvious red flag.

Following his direct confession, he went on to enumerate all of your faults in a psychopathic and alphabetical order. As to add more salt into the wound, Zandik brought out printed pictures and pointed at all the blemishes on your face that needed fixing before tossing a plastic surgeon's business card at you. What an absolute jerk. Not the most romantic confession out there, but he did ask you out, right?

WRONG.

After his long spiel about being burdened by unnecessary dependence on you, he gave you an incentive to "look more unattractive during work hours" with a pay raise.

So, Herr Doktor. So, Herr Enemy. Yet, you can't loathe Zandik when he's THAT honest about his avid repulsed fascination. The man is mad, but being mad doesn’t make him stupid. He wants the exact opposite of the likable behavior reinforcement theory coming from you. Zandik would sooner receive the loving embrace of an iron maiden than be in a rendezvous. He wholeheartedly believes that love is an illusion of a Greek necessity– whatever that meant.

You were ready to argue when he pulled out a contract that Zhongli had revised for added credence. As self-preservation reared its not noble but necessary head, your anger left you. His proposed numbers were bafflingly astronomical that you might just quit your job after the first pay…

The moon has nothing to be sad about once it witnesses your dreams bear fruit. Zandik knows that as well, that's why he visited your little bakery before its opening day, demanding that you make him any type of pastries. Unfortunately, you're the type who would adjust your schedule for others and not the other way around.

Zandik wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeves. "Mind if I strip?"

"E-Excuse me?" You chuckled nervously. "Strip your apron, right?"

"Hair extensions, assistant." He clicked his tongue, amused. "With some common sense, you would’ve discovered that they get in the way and that these two long strands are artificial. Clearly, you lack some degree of rigor expected for an assistant."

Should’ve expected as much. This is the same man who cut off Childe's hair because he's "so damn tired seeing everyone in this forsaken group have the same fucking rat tail." You're pretty sure the only person who thought it was mildly amusing was Dainsleif.

Still… Last time, he told you those two strands were part of his hair. Zandik is not the type who would pettily lie for a joke. He's as straightforward as CEO Alhaitham– for better or for worse. Maybe he has a twin brother or something…

No, that’s just inconceivable.

Zandik watched in amusement as your forehead creased.

"You should've worded that differently… Doesn’t matter. Is there a flavor you’d like? Chocolates or...?"

He answered immediately. “Strawberries. Saw Alice ate some with her daughter last night.”

“Definitely it's not because it's your favorite, I’m aware,” you mused sarcastically. “Since you’re not actually into strawberries, might I suggest chocolate?”

Zandik glared. “Why?”

You batted your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, doctor, don’t you know chocolates have the love drug? As Langston Hughes would say “Have you dug the spill of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims, on this sepia thrill–”."

“Debunked. It’s laughable that you would insinuate such an incorrect notion.” Zandik scoffed loudly. “Chocolates don’t directly pass phenylethylamine to our nervous system, you’re more likely to excrete these pathetic sweets off your a–”

Never been a romantic. Dottore somehow loves to make it a point to remind you of that foul personality trait of his in every conversation.

“Alright, that’s enough. It’ll be strawberry flavored.” You sighed as you placed the tray inside the oven. “Might I say, you’re acting rather… cocky, for a lack of a better term, with how I should handle my work.”

“In my many years of living, I’ve learned that arrogance is a side-effect of truth and intelligence.”

“Yes, but your methods of holding that dough is quite barbaric. Please let it go.”

“Tsk.”

Dead hands, dead stringencies– Zandik simply lacks the talent for baking due to his rigidity. He dropped the dough and you smirked for a second, relieved. You secretly have a competitive side and you'd hate to admit that you're scared he might just beat you at your own game because of the frostings.

“Master Zandik, please just sit down. There are empty chairs at empty tables–”

He rolled his eyes, crossing his legs on your table. You tried not to scream at him about hygiene and barely succeeded. “Friends are all dead and gone– I know. Do not think you can reference Les Miserables without me knowing, baker.”

You shook your head as you set the timer. While you were preoccupied, it seemed as if the doctor just couldn’t sit still.

“Hmph, this is the only thing of interest I’ve found in your precious little bakery thus far.”

You turned to look at him.

Zandik paused in front of the small wall of photographs you had on display. A smile crept on your face as you remembered how proud you were of organizing the photos of your friends and family into a heart-shaped mosaic. There is a tiny square space in the middle and he correctly inferred that will be the center will be used to display a photo of the bakery's opening day. Be that as it may, his attention lay elsewhere.

"You had a violent streak, didn't you?"

"... Pardon?"

"You were the "problem child", that's my assessment," Zandik smirked, detaching a photograph from your wall, which surprised you since you've had trouble easing them free.

He specifically picked the photo you took during kindergarten with your grandma.

"You had scraped knees and elbows but you don't have that stereotypical dumb boyish smile. You seem to have quite a pronounced frown. Would I be wrong to assume you weren't well-liked in your school–"

“Put it back.” While you do generally dislike being put under a spotlight, the cause of your harsh delivery stems from his unpleasant phrasings.

Zandik pretended not to hear you, "–I'm not teasing you. I would know this because I had a photo similar to this one."

For a moment, you saw a flicker of melancholic humanity in your otherwise monstrously rigid employer. You thought that vulnerable display would be brief, but the hollow chuckle that echoed proved that this event will mark a milestone in your "work" relationship.

Master Zandik is opening up to you.

"Unlike this cute and happy memento, I don't have a grandmother who would take a picture with me. I’ve lost them all in the fire." He muttered, his voice low and his eyes squinting. "Hence the reason why I squandered most of my hours burying my nose in textbook after textbook. Pantalone and I had to prove ourselves worthy of living a life outside the orphanage. But this picture…"

Your boss grumbled. "This picture looks awfully similar to the only childhood picture I have taken. A large frown, beat-up uniform– a rage that I can relate to. I understand your child self all too well. Too well, in fact, that I feel the urge to burn this photograph like what I’ve done with mine."

He traced his thumb around your young self's image, shockingly intimate.

You blinked incessantly, trying to process all the information that he told you. First, your boss has no family left. Second, he’s an orphan raised alongside sir Pantalone. Third, he burned the only picture he had when he was a kid. You would pinch yourself but this conversation is jaggedly real.

As sensitive as this topic may be, your skepticism slips out as easily as breathing. "You burned your only childhood photo?"

Zandik ruminated.

"Curious as to what I would've looked like? You don’t seem to find my decision very agreeable."

"Who would?" You didn't mean to whine, but the tone of your voice made you sound like complaining. "What possessed you to do that?! Now no one would know what you looked like, not even yourse–"

"I didn't look too different as to who I am now," Zandik answered, his usual confidence coming back. "Only back then, shades of purple bruises would overlap my face, arms, legs, and stomach. If I loathed my natural features I would've done something drastic to tweak my appearance."

"Of course, you would, hair surgeon." You jokingly muttered Childe's best Dottore insult.

"What was that?"

For the sake of the hair Ajax is trying to grow out, you need to change the subject, fast.

"Master Zandik, I have to ask– aren’t you supposed to hate me? Pray tell, what are you doing here then?”

It’s been bothering you since he walked in. If he wants his “crush” for you to disappear, then why the hell is he spending more time with you?

Surprisingly, Zandik was also stunned by your question. His eyes went wide, perplexed.

“... What are you talking about?”

“You know what I meant.” You deadpanned. “The contract, what else?”

“Contract?” He squinted. “What contract? Is it a contract revised by Zhongli?”

“An astute guess.” You mocked his tone. “Yes, it is. Perhaps we’ve handled so many workloads the past month because of Sir Alberich’s eye-plucking shenanigans that’s why you forgot. To put it simply, you ordered me to act less attractive in exchange for a pay raise.”

“What?”

He looked at you incredulously, as if you were joking.

“Is this some kind of twisted joke?” Zandik huffed. “I would do no such thing. That’s...”

His demeanor shifted once, then twice. After a moment of silence, he nodded.

“Forgive me, you’re right. I did propose that contract, haven’t I?”

“Yes, Master.”

“And I also confessed my affection for you as well?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Pity.” He muttered, his tone grieving. “There should be no other person who can understand me more than I do.”

Zandik glared. “But why on earth is He trying to sabotage us.”

He?

“What are you talking about?”

Zandik gritted his teeth and smiled. “No matter. There’s no need for concern, darling.”

…

Did Master Zandik always have shark-like teeth?

He reached out and ruffled your hair slightly, but there is an ominous aura that lingered in his expression. It was akin to self-loathing, but not quite. Zandik pulled his hand back slowly, clenching it into a fist as he walked away.

You will never understand what he was talking about. After all, “Zandik” failed to mention the most important aspect of that photograph.

He had no parents, aunts, uncles, cousins… But the outcast did stand next to someone in that single childhood photo he had.

And that person was the picture-perfect imitation of himself, the perfect “sibling”.

Il Dottore laughed.

Now, if he could just throw him in the fire too…

Ansytea: Thank you so much for joining the match-up event Bakery Anon! Please don't chop, cook, and serve me to faceless!ayato–

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scaranation · 1 year

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༊*·˚ 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋 - 𝐈𝐈

Pairing: Yandere!Dottore x GN!reader

Content: Yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour etc. Mentions of death.

You thought that after you’d brutally rejected Zandik, it was the last you’d see of him. You foolishly thought that the two of you would simply part ways there, and you could be free to do as you pleased - but that was far from the truth. The truth was, you’d never been out of his grasp. Never straying from his sight, for the eyes of every ruin machine and akasha terminal wearer had become your ex-lover’s means of tracking you. However, the day Zandik finally snaps is the day he can no longer tolerate his jealousy.

Almost a year later, and Zandik had disappeared from your mind. Sure, you’d heard whispering of him exhibiting even more capricious behaviour in the weeks following your so-called breakup, but as you became swept up in Akademiya work again you simply didnt have the time to worry about him.

After a while however, things at the Akademiya calmed down again and you found yourself with a lot of spare time on your hands. Now, you were on vacation in Port Ormos, leisurely browsing through bustling market. The idea of recreation had never been an appealing one to you, but you soothed your guilty conscience with the promise that you’d work extra hard later on to compensate for whatever enjoyment you’d found outside of your academic pursuits. As you continued walking, you found a stall brimming with vintage automatons from Fontaine - piquing your interest as a slight smile crossed your face.

This smile was intently admired by Zandik, who, unbeknownst to you, had been watching you through the many surrounding akasha terminals. How could you be so beautiful? He could only describe what he felt as a purest admiration, admiration for the way your eyes lit up when you found something interesting, the way your cold exterior crumbled once you were exposed to the possibility of new inquiries. Zandik couldn’t comprehend why you didn’t choose him in the end, for the love he held for you was so superlative - after all, if death was a tenet of humanity and he was willing to kill for you, what purer affection could there possibly be? Now, he was simply biding his time before he whisked you back into his arms - before he made you love him like he loved you.

You looked so lovely as you lifted up a small mechanical contraption, inspecting it with whimsical curiosity. Although, when you finally tried to make the payment, you found your purse lacking - an embarrassed expression consuming your features. Zandik’s jaw clenched as he was unable to help, unable to let you rely on him in any way possible. But what made him seethe further was watching another man approach you, offering to pay.

And you smiled at that man.

The same smile Zandik deserved. The smile that he used to see; or was that a false one? Either way, your sudden benefactor began trailing next to you between stalls, chattering away happily.

Zandik swore there he had not entertained a worse feeling. He had never loathed someone with such passion as he did now, digging his nails into his palms until they bled. His anger quickly turned on you, as well - how dare you seduce him so, and then associate with another man? He had planned to give you space, plotting the instigation of some traumatic event to make you run into his arms - but this was where he drew the line. Sure, you had obviously talked to your male colleagues before, but this was different. You were laughing, reciprocating the man’s boisterous remarks. It should’ve been Zandik there next to you, chuckling and pointing out displays.

You, however, were having a great time - oblivious to the furious anger of your former, albeit experimental, boyfriend. The man who’d paid for the contraption you now held in your hand - a ‘kamera’ - was quick to introduce himself, and you enjoyed his company. He was unlike those at the Akademiya, who were always the classic picture of egotistical masculinity - always either mansplaining or manipulating.

After strolling through the port, hazy yellow light seeped into the sky as you realised the time. Through the conversations you’d shared and the array of pictures you’d taken with the man on your kamera, time has flown by, and the two of you were reluctant to part ways. Before leaving to retreat into your hotel however, the man left you some contact details. Working in Avidya Forest, he was part of the patrol there.

Not that you ever saw the man again.

A few days later, before you planned to return to the Akademiya, you decided to stop and visit your kind benefactor in Avidya - showing up at the address he’d left you only to find a throng of people crowded around his residence. Some were weeping, and others were murmuring amongst themselves.

“What happened?” You pushed your way through the crowd, partly in curiosity. You might not have been particularly close with the man, but you held a certain level of concern for him.

“H-he… He’s been murdered!” A villager exclaimed, as a group of rangers exited the cottage - carrying a stretcher, with the outline of a corpse beneath the thin white blanket stretched over it. You frowned. The forest was a relatively safe, mundane place - what could’ve instigated a murder, here?

The answer dug itself into you with icy claws - realisation trickling with a freezing intensity as the hair on the back of your neck raised at a familiar voice.

“Well, how do you like my present, darling?”

Zandik.

#genshin imagines #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #yandere dottore #dottore x reader #dottore x you #dottore #yandere genshin x reader #zandik #zandik x reader

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lavandulawrites · 2 months

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Yandere Alphabet with Il Dottore

Yandere Dottore x reader

This man is something else. (Yandere alphabet request here)

Masterlist

Warnings: murder, violence, torture, experiments, isolation, Dottore is a warning in himself

Word count: 2559

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

His love is extremely intense, it swallows you whole. He’s really outright loving, but his eyes reveal his deep obsession. He will gift you expensive gifts. He also loves to engage in intellectual conversations with you and he uses that as a way to bond with you. Of course you cannot even compare to his intellect, but he still enjoys your insights in different matters.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He won’t stop at anything. You will be his and that’s final. He will kill everyone standing in his way. He doesn’t care if they are your loved ones or not. He will betray the Fatui and the Taritsa if it so comes down to it. He will even burn down Teyvat and take great pleasure in it.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He loves to mock you. He finds it amusing how you are so utterly naive as to trust him. Sure he did abduct you against your will, but you decided to give the madman a chance. This soon you came to regret. In the earlier stages of your captivity, he won’t miss the opportunity to criticise your intelligence. When you have stayed in his mansion for months, he won’t mock you that much. He really does love you after all, but he still find your naivety and stupidity amusing.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He will experiment on you, but worry not he will be gentle. It’s just that Zandik cannot get enough of you. He needs to know anything about you, so if he has to pry you open so be it. He really promises he will be as gentle as can be. He will also do anything in his power to protect your health. He will be strictly monitoring your diet and sleeping schedule, and he will do daily checkups. He can be really overbearing, but he promises he means well. Is just that it can be quite hard to believe so when he’s grinning from ear to ear reveal his sharp teeth, a syringe in his hand filled with your pretty crimson blood.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Underneath his big ego, he’s insecure. Though his insecurities aren’t that many, it still bothers him. His childhood still has an imprint on him deep down, even after all those years. He is afraid of you seeing him as a monster (he is well aware that his actions aren’t exactly helping). He hates how an intelligent man as himself allows himself to have such insecurities. Despite his rather well collected being, he will latch onto you at whatever given opportunity. He deep down seeks your approval, though he will never admit that out loud.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Zandik would be both angry and amused. He would laugh as you attempt to kick him and he would grin when you managed to scratch him. He let you fight back till his patient runs thin. You need to remember your place beneath him. He won’t admit it out loud, but he’s hurt when you don’t reciprocate his feelings. He will isolate you further with no human contact for two weeks. Your food would be sent through a hatch in the door.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It is a game for him. He loves watching your pathetic attempts at escape. Who needs a good opera when he can watch you make a fool out of yourself? He will purposely plant ideas off escape in your head. He will laugh when one if his segment brings you back to his feet. Of course he will punish you, but you will also be rewarded for your creative escape method. Don’t be fooled even a man like Dottore has his limits. If you try to escape multiple times after one another, he will reach his limit. He will secure your chambers more thoroughly and spend more time watching over you like a hawk. You are his after all.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Your worst experience was when you woke up strapped to a operating table. You had noticed Dottore standing to your left with an expressionless face. His scrubs where speckled with red spots. Your blood. You have tried to kick agains your restraint in an agile attempt at escaping. To your horror your feet didn’t move an inch. When you stretched your neck as far as you could, you could see neat stitches on your heels. Not short after you were thrown into a small room without any windows. The walls where padded in white cushions, keeping you from harming yourself. Your anaesthetic didn’t take long to wear off, leaving you with unbearable pain. He left you in that room for days, having some servants bring you food through a small hatch.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He wishes for you to truly love him. You will get married after some months. He really doesn’t care about kids, but if you beg enough he may agree to having maximum two. At first he wished for you to contribute to his experiments, but he soon changed his mind when he saw how weak and pathetic you were. You needed to keep your innocence and he will not let you see his experiments unless if they’re completely finished. That is however, only if you have been good. If you as much as think about going against him, he will drag you to his lab. He will have you staying in one of his remote manors, safe form the Fatui.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Dottore gets easily jealous. When he sees someone else talking to you, no matter the gender, he will immediately get jealous. How dare they to talk to something that belongs to him? How dare you talking to other people than him? He will creep up behind you and snake his arm around your waist and pull you flushed against him. His grip bruising. He will stare the person down with a gaze as cold as ice. With a tight grip he leads you to your bedroom and bids you farewell with a gentle kiss. It’s not hard to track down the poor soldier in a remote corridor inside the Zapolyarny Palace. Dottore brutally mauls the soldier with a hunting knife making him suffer as much as possible before he leaves him to bleed in the dark and empty hallway.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He is found of physical touch only with you. He can be quite doting, but only in the privacy of his mansions. He will give you gifts fitted for you taste, but if he feels like you need a reminder of who he is, he will throw in some morbid gift in order to get a raise out of you. What do you mean by that you don’t like the shrieked bunny head? If you push him enough, he will surprise you with a elegant packet present containing some human limbs or intestines.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He will at indulge in intellectual conversations with you. His obsession will blossom from the first day I sees you, already sealing your fate. It doesn’t take long before he pricks you in the neck with a needle, causing you to subsume to darkness. He will lock you up in his mansion and do his courting there. He’s really confident and he won’t tolerate any snarky comments about his so called flirting.

Mask: Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He can be quite the gentleman when it comes to you. He is however not trying to conceal his true personality, so he lets his sadistic tendencies run free. The first time you meet him, he seemed like a sophisticated gentleman with tremendous intelligence and knowledge in both technology and medicine. His gentleman mannerism was however only extended towards you. You quickly became familiar with his rather eccentric personality.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

If he hears about you misbehaving from his segments or catches you in the middle of an escape attempt, he will with crazed eyes drag you into the nearest laboratory. He will inject you with liquids that burn inside your veins (don’t worry he won’t use anything that will cause you harm, only pain). If your misdeeds are grander, he will see fit to breaking some of your toes or fingers with great joy. However if you didn’t do too much, he will only lock you in a remote room with no stimuli.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You have no right to venture outside without him. If you even are allowed outside that is. He will have complete control over your diet. You are not allowed to meet or even mail your family and friends. He lets your read to your heat content, but the books have to be approved by him. When a year has past since your abduction and his trust in you has increased, he will plant a tracking chip in your neck. You can only hope the chip will grant you more freedom.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He prides himself on being an extremely patient man, but when it comes to you he really struggles with being patient. He has a thoroughly thought out plan when it comes to getting his hands on you, but it all seems to crumble quickly. He is not used to not having control over himself and it frightens him. It doesn’t take long for him to isolate you in his big manor.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

He would be completely devastated if you ever died. He would work day and night in attempts at restoring you. His long nights do pay off when you finally wake up. If you end up successfully escaping, he will find you. He won’t rest until every stone in Teyvat is turned. He will avoid missions from the Taritsa in favour of bringing you back into his arms where you belong.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

He feels absolutely no guilt for abducting you. Why should he? He takes great joy in your discomfort. You are the most perfect specimen and you need to be protected from the horrors of the world. He will never let you go, no matter what. You will be his for eternity and he will never leave your side.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Zandik had a terrible childhood. He never fitted in and got driven out off his village with pitchforks. When he first saw you, he was entranced by your kindness and beauty. Kindness didn’t fit in the Fatui and he hadn’t experienced it in all the years that he had lived. He quickly fell in love with you. He is also really curious about all the different emotions you stir in him. It’s all so very new, but not unwelcome.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He finds it both extremely amusing and a little irritating. He will mock you and laugh at your misery. If you get too loud he will get annoyed. If you isolate and refuse to speak to him, he will get extremely angry and punish you. Even though he is cruel, he still wants you to love him.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Il Dottore will experiment on you. The experiments he preforms on you are however quite mild (unless it’s a punishment). He doesn’t want to permanently hurt you. He often makes you feel like a rare specimen under a microscope, with his eerie blood red eyes staring at you.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Zandik have never fitted in. He has always been an outsider and it has greatly affected him even though he claims that it hasn’t (he knows it deep down, but is way to proud to admit it). If you give him a sense of belonging he will trust you almost wholeheartedly. If you use this in order to escape he will be absolutely furious. He will find you and drag you to some remote place and isolate you for how long he sees fit. You will never be able to escape him.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Zandik will hurt you if he sees fit (which he most definitely will more than once). He takes great pleasure in seeing you shaking in fear. It makes him feel a need to protect you. He loves being in control and loves to heap you into whatever he pleases, but worry not he will always keep your personality. He does love you after all.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He absolutely adores you, though it can be quite hard to notice. He will do absolutely anything for you (except letting you go of course). He will burn down the entire world in your favour, nothing can escape him, but he won’t need to. Not when his silver tongue convinces you to stay with him. He does however prefer if you put up a fight. He needs excitement in his life after all.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

It can either go weeks or years. When he’s younger it’s most likely going to take a year or two before he makes his move. He’s so engrossed in his studies and experiments so he doesn’t have much time for courting you. After a few years he will snap and kidnap you. When he gets expelled from the Akademiya he takes you with him.

When he’s older it will only take weeks from when he saw you, to him kidnapping you. He has lived for so very long and can’t be bothered to wait. He is the second Harbinger after all, he have all the power one could want so he doesn’t need to wait.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

He would break you over and over again if he feels like you needs it. He will fix you again only to break you the next time you disobey him. He doesn’t want you as a shell of yourself since he finds that boring, plus he really does love you in his own twisted way, so he won’t break you too much.

#yandere genshin #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere dottore #yandere doctor #yandere #yandere x female reader #yandere x reader #yandere male #male yandere #dottore x reader #dottore #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #x reader

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heizlut · 6 months

Text

Me & The Devil

alternative (dual yandere) version here

cw: non-con, dub-con, heavy manipulation, gaslighting, somnophilia, dacryphilia, yandere, DARK CONTENT

this fic is no joke when it comes to darker content, extreme trigger warning. read at your own risk

tags: yandere!dottore, fem!reader, mostly proofread but there still may be some minor errors here and there

word count: 4.5k this is the longest one i’ve written so far.

check out my masterlist here!

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷

Finally you have a chance to break free. The sound of your bare feet slap against the cold floor as you try to run for an exit. Your breathing is heavy, teary eyes full of hope thinking that today is the day you can finally escape him. Right before you can reach the exit, a large hand grips your arm tightly, causing you to stumble and fall to your hands and knees. You’re flipped over onto your back with him looming over you with a smirk on his face, “Going somewhere, my love?”. Dottore. How did this even start? When did it even start?

—

You were just a curious akademiya student. Many said you were too curious for your own good but you always brushed them off. You couldn’t help that you were so curious about the things that were forbidden to be researched. The more someone tells you not to do something, the more you want to just say ‘fuck it’ and do it anyways. It didn’t help when you found some curious files and notes left behind from a student named Zandik. After asking around and getting strange looks from others, you were about to give up on this Zandik guy. You bumped into something hard causing you to drop the notes and files you had found and you land hard on your ass. When you looked up, you saw a tall man with blue hair wearing a mask that hid his features.

He didn’t think anything of you at first until he saw what had scattered on the ground. With a smirk, he held out his hand to you, “I apologize. I must not have been paying attention to where I was going.” You grabbed his hand, trying not to wince at the pain from having landed so hard, “I should be the one to apologize. I’m the one who ran into you.” The man laughed it off and bent down to help you gather your papers which caused you to push him away.

Your reaction made him raise an eyebrow under his mask, “What? Do you have something to hide, little one?” You felt your face heat up at the accusation and the nickname. It felt like he could see right through you, “N-no.. It’s just-“ You sighed as you gathered your thoughts. “If you’d like, we could go somewhere else if you’d like to tell me about it?”, he offered with a smile that you couldn’t quite decipher. You nodded and gave a small smile in return, “It would be nice to have someone to share this with. Thank you.”

The man you learned was named Dottore. He listened to everything you explained with just a sly smirk on his face. The mask he wore made it hard for you to decipher his true feelings, but the fact that he had sat there and listened with some sort of intrigue to what you were saying made you feel like you were finally understood. He made no move to berate you for what you chose to have an interest in.

Little did you know that the files and notes you had found were all from him and his previous research from before he was expelled from the akademiya and changed his name. He was more than happy to entertain your curiosity. It shocked you when he offered his hand to you for the second time that day and asked if you would like to pursue your curiosities further with him as your mentor. You stared at him in surprise, then you took his hand. That’s where it all began.

—

At first, Dottore kept some distance from you. You didn’t mind as you were so caught up in finally being able to pursue your true interests. Little by little he began to cut you off from the rest of the world without you paying it any mind. It started with him offering for you to stay one night since it had gotten late. He said he worried about you going home alone in the dark. You naively accepted and soon it became a habit to stay with him after long days of researching and experimenting together. Dottore was good at hiding his true intentions and the dark things he was doing without your knowledge. You had no idea the other types of experiments he conducted. He was so careful to show you only what he wanted you to see.

Next he made an offhand comment about you just dropping out of the akademiya and studying under him full time. He had only said it when you came to his place after yet another tough day at the akademiya. You were going on and on about how you wish you could fully pursue your true interests without interference. After he made the comment about you just dropping out, you gawked at him for a few moments to which he smiled, “It’s all up to you. But just know… You’ll never reach your true potential if you’re trapped under the akademiya’s thumb.” You mulled over his words.

What he said was true. You just wanted your freedom. To do as you pleased without anyone getting in the way or giving you dirty looks or rejecting your proposals time and time again. “I can give you everything you need. All you need to do is say the word.”, is what he said as he watched the gears turn in your head. You looked up at him, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “I’ll drop out. Just promise me that you’ll help me pursue what I want.”

The smile on his face grew. If you hadn’t been so naive to his real intentions, you would have noticed that his smile held insanity and obsession. He wanted you all to himself and he was finally getting closer to what he wanted.

—

Days turned to weeks, which turned to months. Dottore was everything to you whether you had realized it or not. You had fallen right into his trap. You had become dependent on him, cut off from the world around you. When was the last time you saw the sun or felt it warm your skin? You didn’t really seem to care. You had gotten incredibly far with your research all thanks to Dottore’s help. He gave you everything you needed. Everything you wanted. No questions asked. He never even asked for anything in return.

Now that began to bother you. You felt like you had to repay him in some way but whenever you brought it up, he would brush it off with a laugh and smile saying that seeing you happy with what you were accomplishing together was more than enough. You always failed to notice the way his gaze on you would change when your back was turned to him. The way it travelled down your body, taking in every inch of you, committing it to memory… It was dark and hungry…

You had reached up to grab a new test tube from a shelf you couldn’t quite reach when you suddenly felt hands touch your waist. A hard chest pressed against your back. Hot breath on your neck… “Let me get that for you.” You blush at the closeness. Dottore had never touched you like this. You didn’t see him as anything other than a mentor and a friend. He never made it known that he had felt anything different for you.

You didn’t know whether you liked his touch or closeness or if you wanted to push him away. You were frozen. Conflicted. You snap out of your thoughts when he let out a breathy laugh, the test tube held in front of your face, “Aren’t you going to take it?” You swallow hard and take the test tube from his hands, muttering your thanks.

His hands linger, moving down your body. You swear you could feel something hard poking your ass but you shake your head to push the thoughts away. There’s no way he thought of you like that. No way you thought of him like that. Sure he was handsome in his own strange way but you never really saw him this way. You turn around to move from his grasp only to be pushed further into the shelf, the spare glassware rattled from the impact.

Dottore’s sly smile. The dark look in his eyes. It made you shiver. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh? Anything you want to share?”, he was taunting you. You just knew he was. You gently push him away to create distance and he lets you, letting out a small laugh, “You don’t have to tell me. Your face says it all.” Your eyes widen at his words and you quickly make your way back to your experiment table.

—

Nothing else happened for awhile after that. It bothered you. Did he really see you as something more than just someone he was mentoring? You feel yourself grow slick with arousal as you lay in your bed. You kept replaying the way he looked at you, the way he touched you… You let out an annoyed groan as you rub your thighs together to quell the aching need you were feeling. You couldn’t be thinking of him this way. You didn’t even know what your feelings were towards him, let alone his feelings towards you. You let yourself fall asleep, frustrated, sexually and emotionally.

He stood there over your sleeping form. His cock stirring to life and he rubbed himself through his pants at how innocent and soft you looked as you slept. You turned onto your back in your sleep, muttering his name. His eyes squeezed shut as he palmed himself with even more pressure. You had said his name in your sleep.

You must be dreaming about him. Dottore lets out a soft groan of satisfaction. His sweet little student was thinking of him even in their sleep. He pulled his aching cock from his pants, pumping his length over your sleeping form.

Suddenly you let out a soft, breathy moan of his name, causing him to release all over your face with a choked groan of his own. He smirked as he kneeled down next to you, tucking himself back into his pants, and admiring how much prettier you looked with his cum splattered across your sweet face. He takes his finger, running it through his release. Once he gathered some on his finger he gently pressed it into your slightly parted mouth.

He hoped that you would wake up with the taste of his essence still on your tongue. Dottore removed his shirt and used it to gently wipe the remaining cum off your face. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and whispered, “Sweet dreams, little one.”

—

You woke up the next day with a strange taste in your mouth. You swallow a few times to get rid of the foreign taste which doesn’t help. You sigh, pushing yourself up to sit on your bed, your knees pressed tightly to your chest. Flashes of the dream you had the night before flutter through your mind. Images of Dottore touching you even more than he did that day in the lab against the shelves. Images of him kissing your neck and down your body…

The dream felt so real, you swear you could almost feel the lingering touch of his soft lips and calloused hands on your body. You faintly remember when the dream changed to him entering your room, jerking his cock over your body as he came on your face. The strange taste in your mouth comes to mind but you brush it off. It was all just a dream… right?

You let the water from the shower run down your body as you feel yourself starting to overthink everything that had to do with Dottore. He was just your mentor. You had to keep it that way or you may risk him finally kicking you out and leaving you on your own. The thoughts made you realize just how much he consumed your life little by little. You were in too deep to let it all fall apart just because you were confused by your feelings. You needed him.

—

A few days had gone by. Things seemed to have gone back to how they always used to be between you and Dottore. You felt like maybe you were just crazy for thinking he saw you as something more than just his student. Little did you know that Dottore was planning even more deep in his twisted mind. His careful image and manipulation guided you exactly where he wanted you. Dependent. Needing him. For everything. He wanted your thoughts to be on him. Only him.

As time went on, you noticed the little lingering touches he gave you. The way he would press himself against you. How close he would get, just inches from your face with that sly smile on his own mostly hidden face. It was driving you insane. You were so confused. Did you want him as more than a mentor to your forbidden research? No. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to.

You sat across from Dottore, pushing the food around your plate with your chopsticks, caught up in your own thoughts. He studied you curiously, wanting to pry into your mind, “Is everything alright? You know you can tell me anything. I’ll listen.” You snap out of your thoughts, looking up at him with a dazed expression, “What are we doing…” He tilts his head slightly at your words, “What do you mean by that? We are research partners. I am your mentor. Does that not satisfy you?” Your face heats up, “N-no.. I-I mean it does satisfy me. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. You didn’t have to do all this-“

Before you could continue rambling he cuts you off, his palms pressed against the table as he leans over it. So close to you now… “Always so humble and sweet…” Dottore tucks a strand of your hair behind your hair and leans even closer, “Too bad I’m not satisfied.”

His words chill you to the bone. You’re frozen in place as he smirks, “Be mine. I can give you even more than what I give you now. After all… it’s only fair.. You owe me so much…” You push him away, quickly standing from your seat, “No.” He looks up at you, a dangerous glint in his eyes as a distorted smile creeps onto his face. He stands up, walking closer to you. Your heart is pounding, threatening to break free from the confines of your chest. “No?”, He laughs, but there is no humour in it. “You think you can tell me no?”

Dottore moves to caress your cheek, but you grip onto his wrist before he can. He huffs out a laugh, a crazed look in his eyes. He grabs both your wrists in one hand, pinning you to the wall, “You think you can stop me? You think I don’t know about the way you think about me? The sweet little dreams you have of me…” Your face pales. How did he know about the dreams…?

He now caresses your cheek with his free hand as if you were truly his lover all this time, “You’re easy to read, little one…” You try to squirm from his grasp only to make his smile grow wider, “You’re not going to leave me. Not now…” He leans in close to your ear and whispers, “Not ever.” He nips at your earlobe, pulling a gasp from your throat. You don’t want this. Maybe you do… Maybe he deserves it after all he’s done for you… No. No. Stop thinking like this. Suddenly you feel dizzy. Was it the way he had you pinned against the wall? How close he was? No. He had drugged your portion of the food. He smirks as your vision begins to fade to nothingness. “Mine.”

—

Your eyes slowly blink open. You move to stretch, only to find that your wrists have been cuffed to a metal bedpost. You look down and sigh in relief to see that you still had the clothes on that you had the night before. That was last night… right? Your heart jumps in your chest when Dottore appears in the room with a tray of food. “What’s going on? Please let me go, I promise I’ll do whatever you want”, you plead desperately. He just smiles and sets the tray down on the nightstand by the bed before sitting down on the bed. He reaches out and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “I’m afraid I can’t do that, little one.”

A tear slips down your cheek as you turn from his gaze. He clicks his tongue as he gently wiped the tear away, “Now, now. There’s no need for tears. Haven’t I treated you so well? What is there to cry about?” His saccharine voice made your heart ache. You turn to face him again, looking at him with glassy eyes and bottom lip trembling. Dottore tilts his head as he studies your expression.

He admits to himself that the sight stirs something within him and the feeling was not sympathy. He reaches for the bowl of warm soup on the tray and scoops a small bit into the spoon and holds it to your lips, “Be careful now. It’s still a bit hot.” You look from the soup spoon to his eyes, then back down. You give in and part your lips slightly. Your obedience bringing a smile to his face as he feeds you the first spoonful, “Such a good girl.”

You sputter from the heat, the soup dribbles down your chin causing Dottore to click his tongue again in annoyance as he slams the bowl back down onto the tray, “What a waste.” His voice is sharp and it feels as though it cuts right through you. Before you can apologize and beg for another chance, he begins tearing open your shirt; buttons flying across the room. He cups one on your breasts as he looks into your frightened eyes, then he squeezes.

You can’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as a sick sense of pleasure washes over you. Dottore chuckles softly at your change in demeanor and begins pinching your pebbled nipple between his fingers, “See? You like it…” You shake your head in defiance but he quickly grabs your throat with his other hand, “Don’t try to deny it.” The hand toying with your breasts travels down to your thigh and one finger presses against your soaked panties.

Dottore smirks at you as he moves your panties to the side and presses down on your clit with his thumb, drawing a small whimper from you, “Your little cunt is so soaked, it’s just begging for me to claim it.” You can’t help the tears that slip down your cheeks. You feel so ashamed for enjoying his touch when you felt that you shouldn’t be. You feel like you’ve been used this whole time. Was his true goal to mentor you or did he just want your body…to make you his?

Dottore leans in and licks the tears from your cheek as he slips a finger into your wet cunt. A shiver racks your body from both actions, letting out a quiet moan. He begins pumping his finger in and out in a slow, torturous way as he watches your face twist in both pleasure and disgust. His voice is low and sultry as his hot breath tickles your face, “You’ve thought about me doing this to you before, haven’t you? What a sweet little student you are… Here I was trying to be your mentor and you were thinking filthy thoughts about me…” Dottore lets out a devious chuckle when he feels your walls clamp down on his finger.

“For someone who doesn’t want this, you seem to be enjoying yourself so far”, he teases. He adds a second finger and begins to pick up his pace; his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. You try to hold back your moans but fail. It feels too good even though you’re trying so hard to hate it all. Dottore lets go of your throat and graos your chin, tilting your head slightly to the side. He licks a line up your neck then begins nibbling and sucking at your sensitive pulse point. He’s determined to leave his mark on your body to show you that you now belong to him and him alone.

The way his fingers pump in and out of you, his harsh kisses to your neck, and his thumb pressing and circling your clit bring you closer to orgasm, “G-gonna cum”, you mumble out as you moan. Dottore immediately stops what he’s doing, pulling his fingers away from your core and his lips away from your neck. More tears fall as you groan in dissatisfaction of having your orgasm completely ruined. He simply laughs and presses a kiss to your cheek, “Oh I apologize~ Did I ruin your climax?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He was immensely satisfied by your reactions and the tears you continue to spill.

Dottore begins unbuttoning his own shirt as he stares down at you, “You cum when I say you can cum. Besides… You’re only allowed to cum on my cock.” His words alone make your eyes roll back and your walls clamp down around nothing. He discards his shirt and tugs his pants down just enough to free his long, girthy cock. He gives it a few pumps as you watch, completely mesmerized yet terrified at the same time. There was no way you could take his cock in your pussy.

Dottore smirks at your expression and leans down, positioning his cock to your entrance, “Don’t worry, my love~ I’ll make it fit.” You try to move away from him, but your handcuffed wrists and your position on the bed make it impossible. He leans forward, rubbing his aching cock against your soaked cunt, letting your arousal coat his length. You let out a small whine when the head of his dick catches against your clit, your hips move upwards on its own accord. Dottore raises an eyebrow under his mask as his lips curve up, “Oh? Looks like someone wants more.” He brings his lips to your ear and whispers, “Beg for it. Tell me you want my cock inside this pretty little pussy of yours.”

You feel your heart flutter, unsure if it’s from fear of what he’s asking you to do or if you truly wanted this. You shake your head slightly which angers him yet again. Dottore grips your jaw tightly, his lips inches from yours, “Say it.” You let out a broken cry and his grip tightens further, “P-please.. Put i-it in…” His demeanor shifts back to satisfaction, “Put what in~?” You let out a shaky breath, “Y-your c-cock.. Put your c-cock in my pussy, p-please.”

He releases your jaw and presses a kiss to your forehead, “There you go. That wasn’t so hard now was it~?” You sniffle and shake your head. Dottore caresses your cheek gently, “This might hurt.” Without another word, he pushes his thick length inside your tight walls. Your cry morphs into a moan when he hits that spongy spot inside you in just the right way. Tears spill down your cheeks yet again, the pain and pleasure of having him inside you was incredibly intense. Seeing your tears only turned him on even more.

Dottore begins thrusting deep and hard with reckless abandon. The way your gummy walls gripped his cock was intoxicating to him. He needed more. You struggle against your restraints, desperate to grab hold of him as he battered your insides. Heavy breaths mix with moans and grunts as you both begin to lose yourselves in this moment. You can’t deny the way his cock made you feel despite wanting to push him away in disgust. You were disgusted by him and even more disgusted by yourself for finding any ounce of pleasure from what was happening to you.

Dottore’s thrust start getting sloppy as he gets closer and closer to orgasm, “Cum with me. Cum on my cock.” His voice comes out ragged and breathy as sweat beads on his forehead. As much as you wish you could stop yourself, you find yourself coming undone all over his cock. Your walls clamp down on his length, milking his own orgasm as he spills his sticky seed in your pussy. Dottore’s cock throbs inside of you as you both ride out the intense orgasm.

“You’re mine now. You’re never going to leave me. I’m going to pump you so full of my cum each day you won’t ever be able to leave”, his dark words haunted you as he pulls his cock out of you and tucks himself back into his pants. He takes a moment to admire just how ruined you look and his lips curve into an uncharacteristically sweet smile, “Beautiful…” he mutters. Dottore gets up from the bed and opens the handcuffs. Your arms fall to your sides and you rub at the chaffed skin of your wrists. Dottore holds his hand out to you, “Come. Let’s clean you up.” You hesitantly take his hand and follow him on shaky legs to the bathroom where he takes his time bathing you and giving you such care it makes you dizzy.

—

Weeks have gone by since the first time he forced himself on you. Not a day went by where he didn’t repeat his actions, making sure to stuff you so full of cum that it leaked from your sore pussy. This day in particular, although your wrists were cuffed yet again, Dottore didn’t cuff you to the bed. After he took care of you, he left you in the room alone. It took you a few minutes to realize that you weren’t attached to the bed. You get up from the bed and quietly make your way to the open bedroom door, peeking your head out to see if you could see or hear him.

You let out a breath and begin making your way down the hall as quietly as you possibly can. You didn’t know what he would do to you if he found you out of your room. Soon your eyes fall to a door further away that seems to have sunlight pouring out from under it. Your eyes well with tears and you no longer care about being stealthy.

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷

a/n: honestly if you read this all the way through, i am sending a billion kisses to you through my phone. no i will not pay for your therapy, sorry

#dottore smut #genshin smut #dottore x reader smut #dottore x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin dottore #genshin impact dottore

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sumeruin · 1 year

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♫♪: punishments!!

♫♪: pairing: dottore x bunny hybrid! reader

♫♪: warnings: written by a minor, slight yandere, aphrodisiac usage, dacryphilia, grinding, reader gets tied up, begging, mentions of being cut open (nothing really graphic though dw), if i missed anything let me know!!!

♫♪: a/n: happy easter!! :)

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!!

“zandik? do you think we could go for a walk sometime? it’s been a while since we’ve been able to do anything together.” dottore’s head immediately snapped in you direction, his eyes narrowed and full of suspicion.

“where did you hear that name?” you shoot him an innocent smile. “what do you mean? that’s your name, isn’t it, zandik? i think it’s a lovely name if i’m being honest.”

he scoffs, slowly approaching you like how a predator would approach its cornered prey. you feel a pit of anxiety and fear gnawing at your gut when you see the pure, unadulterated rage in his eyes, starting to think that maybe you had finally taken it too far.

dottore grips your face tightly in his hand once he reaches you, his other moving to rest wrapped around your neck. “you know very well what i mean. you know not to talk about my past.” he forces your head up to stare directly into his eyes, and you swear you see the corners of lips quirk up when he sees the glassy shimmer of fear in yours, obviously enjoying how easy it is for him to rile you up.

“i think a punishment is in order, you need to learn how to control that mouth of yours and stop being such a brat.” you swallow nervously at his words. his punishments are always agonizing. your ears involuntarily twitch at the memory of your last one, still able to remember the way his scalpels felt when he carved open your skin.

“no! i’m sorry, dottore. i didn’t mean it!” he smirks, clearly enjoying your begging. “that’s better, but still not enough. you broke one of my rules, and you think a simple apology will be enough? you’re dumber than i thought.”

you desperately grab his sleeve, eyes starting to fill with tears that threatened to spill with every passing second. “please! i’ll do anything, i promise, just please, not another punishment. i’ll be good, i won’t ever break any of the rules again, i swear!”

dottore smiles at you, removing his hands from your face and neck to rest one of the back of your head and bury it in his chest, his thumb lightly stroking the base of one of your fluffy ears. the other moves down to rest on your waist, softly caressing your puffy tail and bringing you that much closer to him. he presses a soft kiss against the top of your head before speaking.

“as much as i enjoy your sweet voice begging me to take pity on you, i’m afraid i can’t let you go without a punishment this time.” his hold on you gets tighter when he feels you jolt in fear, tears finally spilling and soaking the fabric of his shirt. “but, if you calm down and stop trying to escape the inevitable, i might go easier on you. i have a couple new drugs i’ve been meaning to test, and none of the side effects are permanent. if you’re good, you can test those for me and i won’t have to cut you open again. as much i enjoy punishing you that way, you have such adverse reactions to it, and i wouldn’t want to make my little rabbit distressed just because you said my name. that wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

with the combination of dottore’s cologne invading your senses, the slight lack of air from being pressed against him for so long, and the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, you can’t find it in yourself to say no. he smiles when he feels you feebly nod your head against his chest, stroking your hair one last time before forcing you to your knees and tying your hands and legs up.

“now, just stay here and be good while i go get the medicine ready. it shouldn’t take longer than five minutes.” he kneels down and smooths away your tears while he speaks, leaving one last kiss to the top of your forehead before getting up and walking away, leaving you with nothing but your thoughts and a slowly increasing sense of relief that you wouldn’t be hurt again.

true to his words, dottore comes back five minutes later holding multiple bottles filled to the brims with color liquids. you watch curiously as he spreads them out in front of you. “since you’ve been so cooperative with your punishment this time, i’ve decided to let you choose which one you try. pick one out and i’ll save the others for later.” you slowly look down at your options, there’s so many it’s hard to choose. after a couple minutes of deliberation with dottore staring at you with a mix of love and fascination, you decide to go with the shimmery pink one in the heart shaped bottle.

“dottore?” he tilts his head to the side and hums. “what, little rabbit? have you decided?”

“mhm. i want the cute pink one!”

dottore laughs, patting your cheek condescendingly before sitting down on the floor in front of you. he picks up your chosen bottle and pulls off the cork before pressing it to your lips. “drink up, in order to get accurate results you have to take all of it.”

you obediently swallow everything in the bottle, and almost instantly you feel your entire body heat up, a sharp pang of arousal striking through your whole body. helpless whimpers start to slip from your lips as you look up and dottore with glossy, teary eyes. “ah! ‘tore, please help! hurts so bad, n-need you to touch me, hurts!” the end of your sentence trails off into a needy whine, and you lean your body against him.

you feel his chest vibrate with a small laugh while you hopelessly squirm and cry against him, his arms coming up to wrap around your body. “oh, dear, it seems my little experiment has put you into an early heat, huh? you poor thing.” he starts cooing at you in that sickeningly sweet voice he uses when he wants you to feel more like a pet than a person. “it was a very weak aphrodisiac, i didn’t think you’d react this strongly to it. i should’ve taken this into account though, it’s my fault, really.”

“don’ care, just need you to touch me! please ‘tore, it hurts!” you whine out, trying to grind against him for something, anything, to relieve the deep ache that’s settled between your legs. he shushes you, his hands starting to move up towards your soft, fluffy ears. he starts to gently rub at them, getting rougher when you let out a loud moan at the feeling.

dottore keeps playing with your ears like that while you grind yourself against his knee, the overwhelming sensations soon becoming too much for your body to handle as you violently cum all over his leg, the pain finally going away as you lean against him and let out a content sigh.

before you can say anything, you feel his large bulge underneath you, and as you feel your body heat up for the second time, you know that you’ll have a long night ahead of you.

#⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ angel’s creations ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin fanfic #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x reader smut #yandere genshin smut #yandere dottore x reader #yandere dottore smut #yandere dottore #dottore x reader #dottore smut #genshin dottore #dottore

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jessamine-rose · 1 month

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⋆˚♱ଘ Requiem for the Damned ଓ♱˚⋆

*holds head in hands* Idk why Dottore keeps haunting me with writing inspo. And for this idea to manifest just before Holy Week….fuck it, I hope you all enjoy the blasphemous tale of Priest! Dottore x Demon! Darling _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

Tw:: yandere, violence, death, religious abuse, dubcon, mention of nsfw, MINORS DNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion

♡ 2.7k words under the cut ♡

♡ Despite your status as a wandering demon, you have no place in human cognizance. Rather, you conceal yourself from mortal eyes in favor of close observations and whispered temptations. Humans, from your perspective, are interesting creatures—they are ambitious, easily influenced by spiritual beings, capable of both good and evil.

♡ And what better example than the one who summoned you on a starry night? Such rituals are not uncommon amongst heretics, but most only succeed in invoking the contempt of their fellow humans. And few would invoke your name, much less commit sacrilege within the walls of the Church.

♡ You sense danger immediately upon your appearance. Within the summoning circle, you take note of your sigil perfectly illustrated in blood against marble. Beyond it, what alarms you is not your sacred surroundings nor the fresh corpse mixed with your offerings of books and fruit. It is the figure standing over you, cloaked in moonlight, gazing at you with eyes the color of hellfire.

“My ritual is a success. Welcome to my humble church, o noble demon…or would you rather be addressed by your epithet? ______, Fallen Seraph, the Seeker of Forbidden Knowledge.”

♡ A glimpse into his soul is all it takes to strike fear into your heart. Within Hell, there are rumors of a small village in Sumeru. Its people are nothing of note, a congregation of simpletons whose lives revolve around the beliefs of their Church. The lone exception is the main priest, Father Zandik, better known as Il Dottore.

♡ The stories, passed through human voices, speak of a child ostracized for his unconventional beliefs and his interest in the macabre. Branded a madman, he was placed in the care of the Church elders who corrected his ways of thinking. Once he became of age, Zandik was given the choice to move out of the rectory or to remain as a priest; he chose the latter of his own volition.

♡ Since his ordination, Zandik has proved himself to be an exceptional priest. He educates the masses, reviews theological texts, performs exorcisms, and provides religious counsel for the doubtful. He even serves as the town’s doctor, fully gaining the acceptance of his community.

♡ The rumors don’t stop there. For Il Dottore earned his title by performing miracles. It is he who guides the people into religious ecstasy, he who cures the sick from mysterious curses, he who blesses the weak into “enhanced humans.” There are already whispers that once Dottore’s mortality catches up with him, he will surely be canonized as the Patron Saint of Doctors and Miracles.

♡ But spiritual beings such as yourself know the truth. That Dottore is neither a kind priest nor a devout believer, that his days in the Church only magnified his heretical inclinations. Disillusioned with God, Zandik decided to turn His religious sanctuary into his own laboratory, one where he could fulfill his lust for knowledge through a mask of holiness.

♡ He manipulates the people with false teachings. He triggers religious ecstasy with drugged incense. He singles out devotees to “test their faith” during the quiet hours of the Church. And what the town perceives as curses and miracles are actually scientific experiments in which Dottore plays god.

♡ It’s too late to escape. No matter your divine powers, nothing prepares you for Dottore’s traps. The incantations, the barrier of the summoning circle, an aura so holy yet sinister that it couldn’t possibly come from ordinary religious objects—all you can do is fall to your knees and beg for his mercy, all the while he watches you with a confident smile.

♡ His intentions are like that of any human: He summoned you to form a contract. In exchange for his soul, he demands your knowledge, your resources, your full servitude for so long as he roams the mortal plane. Your hesitation only triggers another wave of scorching pain, followed by panic as Dottore grips your horn and forces you to face him.

“Make no mistake, ______. The mere fact of your divinity does not make you indestructible. In exchange for your cooperation, you will bear witness to experiments of the same magnitude as God’s creations. What say you?”

♡ You have no other choice. And that is how, in the sanctity of the Church, you make a deal with the human named Zandik. Once the pact has been forged, Dottore admires the bright sigil on his chest, plucks a few feathers from your wings, and disables the summoning circle so you can leave. Thus begins your personal hell.

♡ It is easy for you to answer Dottore’s questions about the divine. The horror lies in assisting him in experiments, responding to his summons no matter the inconvenience, allowing him to extract your blood, tears, and feathers. No, what’s most humiliating is when he uses your body for his “research,” bending you over the altar and bringing you to physical ecstasy against your will.

♡ At this point, you don’t know who to pray to. One night, Dottore shows you a secret room in his laboratory. As soon as he lights the lamps, your eyes take in numerous bodies and skeletons of a different classification from his usual victims. The extra bones jutting from the scapulas, the amputated wings, the halos pinned to the walls, the holy aura you’d felt from his religious objects…instantly, Dottore’s powers make sense.

“This is my first specimen. She was my guardian angel…no, I jest. She was a mere messenger who implored me to repent for my sins. From her words, I deduced it had been within Heaven’s capacity to save me during my youth—and yet God only sent an angel to me after my first act of blasphemy.”

The angels…how many has he killed? Not even during your fall from Heaven did you feel such primal fear for your life. But you cannot scream—you have long been trained to resist fight and flight. All you can do is listen to Dottore’s explanation, watch as he approaches a pure white skeleton and wraps his hands around its fractured hyoid bone.

He gives you a calm smile. “Luckily, her body provided me with indispensable resources for my experiments and my procurement of her brethren. I believe her name was Sohreh.”

♡ Just when you think it can’t get any worse, Dottore points at the far corner of the room to reveal a space dedicated to demons. Four dead bodies, their causes of death vividly described. Horns, wings, and other body parts amputated in exchange for lives spared after exorcisms. And when Dottore returns to your side, tracing the wound from where he broke off your horn, you can only tremble and acquiesce to a checkup. It grows back fully by the end of the year.

♡ He has his moments of vulnerability, however. Perhaps it is due to your nature as a demon, a creature which represents evil, that Dottore does not hide his heart from you. Once, after his usual confessions—he always makes up trivial sins—he remains in the confessionary until his fellow priest has left. Then he goes to the altar and summons you.

♡ What catches you off-guard is not his lack of greetings. Rather, it’s the way he pulls you close to his body, lips ghosting the curve of your ear. There, in the heart of the Church, he whispers to you every sin he has ever committed. Despite his normal tone of voice, his words have never betrayed a language so guiltless, so sincere, so human.

♡ He asks how much of his madness is to blame on the influence of demons, or if he had been born wicked. He asks if humans were truly given the mental faculties to withstand temptation regardless of their circumstances. He asks if the same can be said for spiritual beings, questioning why former angels like you were also created with the capacity to sin. He even asks if praying for a demon can offer them any hope of salvation.

♡ It takes you a while to answer his questions. It’s just like him to put your emotions in disarray, to make you feel pity for the very cause of your current suffering. Against your nature, you wonder if there is still a chance for Zandik, if he can somehow repent or find a way to save himself from your contract and all of his sins. Even if it is too late, He has always been more forgiving to humans than angels.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

“Do you know why I became a demon, Zandik?”

Your question is what prompts Zandik to pull away from you, though his touch lingers. His gaze, as always, is unfathomable; you can never discern what hides within those pools of crimson.

“No, I do not. Few demonological texts allude to your existence, and only the Lesser Key of Deshret cites your previous status as an angel of the highest ranking. I have made theories in relation to your epithets but I respect all possibilities. Now what would you, as the primary source, reveal to me?”

Now it is your turn to confess.

“Seraphim are the closest to God but for that reason, we are the most distant from His creations. Everything we know of the world is derived only from what He tells us, not our own insights. And so I defied His Word and ate the forbidden fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, committing the same sin which condemned all of humanity.”

The tip of your upper wing brushes against Zandik’s face, while your middle wings encircle his body in a loose hug. As for your lower wings…they are nothing but twin scars covered in short feathers. After your descent, it seemed like a rational decision to chop them off, broken as they were. It helped that your wings had just outgrown their original purpose.

For once, you barely flinch at the sensation of his touch against your scars. Many times, Zandik has inquired about the loss of your lower wings and even asked if he could have them. They still remain in Hell, tucked away in a corner of your home, eyes forever closed.

It takes a few seconds for him to respond. “Do you ever regret your decision?”

You shrug. “It was difficult at first, naturally. Many of my eyes were blinded—yes, that is why I rarely open the ones on my wings—but those which still function have seen so many wonderful sights up-close. Neither must I cover my face with my remaining wings. And despite being what your kind and my former brethren would dub a monster…I’m happier now.”

“I see, I see.” His curiosity appears far from sated, however, a sentiment you can empathize with. “As I thought, God is incomprehensible. For Him to deny even His greatest creation of salvation…it confirms that there are limits to the forgiveness of that which humans call a ‘loving god.’ Thank you for sharing this knowledge with me.”

And just as quickly as he initiated his confession, Zandik steps out of your grasp and dismisses you. But you make no haste, silently watching him after you “leave.”

His expression is thoughtful. A gloved hand touches his chest, right above your sigil.

Such an interesting creature.

Honestly, you don’t know what to make of your feelings for this human. Much as you despise his cruel treatment towards you, he never fails to capture your interest with his experiments and philosophies. Whenever he speaks of God, you wonder if a small part of him still desires to be saved. But that will never be.

Zandik preaches salvation with the knowledge that he will never receive it. For the Church never taught him how to love.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

♡ Il Dottore never became the Patron Saint of Doctors and Miracles. Neither did he have a funeral mass befitting of a priest, nor a peaceful death from natural causes. Instead, he died young, laicized, once again denounced as a heretic by his community.

♡ You don’t know how his crimes were exposed, and why now. Perhaps it is God’s punishment for him, a blessing for his victims, or both. Either way, Dottore paid for his sins on a sunny day, burned at the stake before a disdainful crowd. Not long after his heart stopped beating, his belongings were thrown into the fire—research, tools, anything which carried his memory.

♡ You never left his side. After his last rites, led by an elderly bishop who condemned Zandik as he did in the past, you sat next to him and offered a final conversation. He didn’t express any fear nor sadness in regards to his imminent death, merely stating it a pity that his achievements could never be appreciated in his town.

♡ …He did ask if there is any chance of meeting again in Hell, but you reminded him that the punishment of sinners is out of your jurisdiction. Plus, it’s better that way—you have no desire to avenge yourself, and you’d rather not witness Zandik’s suffering for all eternity. You can only imagine the severity of his punishment, what more if he is assigned to one of the demons he exorcized.

♡ During his execution, you stood at the front of the crowd. You kept your eyes trained on him, for so long as his scarlet orbs remained open, whispering the prayers for the dead on his behalf. While a part of you felt liberated, another was mournful. You hope your last words to Zandik gave him solace in his final moments.

“Rest now, Zandik. God may never forgive your sins, but I shall.”

♡ And thus ends the life of Il Dottore. In the following days, the Church is purged of its holy, sinister aura, mainly because they discarded the religious objects tainted with angel remains. You continue your usual obligations as a wandering demon, but the humans you observe pale in comparison to your companion of many years.

♡ Not long after, you return to Hell for your other divine duties. As soon as you appear in your abode, however, something feels off. The sinister aura, the offering of books and fruit, your lower wings gone from their original place… The answer comes in the form of a hand grabbing you by the horn, pulling you backwards, twisting your body to meet a familiar gaze the color of hearth-fire. Only, this time, those eyes are brimming with pure joy, paired with a genuine smile.

♡ Apparently, Dottore’s soul did end up in Hell but not in the way you expected. In a proud voice, he explains that the Devil gave him a special fate. Whether it was due to vacant positions or everyone’s fear of the infamous “Demon-Killer,” you’ll never know. What Dottore does confirm is that as the demon bound to him via contract, you have to take responsibility and act as his companion in Hell.

“Rather than subject me to eternal suffering, the Devil believed that my talents would prove useful for the punishments of my fellow sinners. How wonderful is it for my achievements to be recognized in Hell? …Oh? I didn’t predict such a physical reaction from you. All of your eyes are wide open, and you seem to be on the verge of fainting.”

♡ You don’t know if you want to laugh or cry. To think your personal hell has been extended to eternity—are your sins enough to warrant such a fate?! But after confirming your misfortune, all you can do is sigh and tend to Zandik. He looks exactly the same, with the exception of a few burn scars on his body. And judging by the familiar black feathers on his person, he seems eager to discard his former religious attire along with his mask of faith.

♡ And when Zandik unfastens his scorched cassock, he takes your hand and places it on his unburned chest, right above your sigil. It glows vibrantly, brighter than any light you laid eyes on in Heaven. And beneath the flesh, you can feel his heart beating in sync with yours.

“Tell me, ______, do I still appear human to you?”

“You already know my answer to that question. But fine, I’ll admit it: Yes, you always have.”

♡

Note:: Church AU is still on my “will not write” list. I only wrote this because I specifically like Priest! Dottore and Angel! Capitano. Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving other characters or dynamics.

At long last, I am free from Priesttore…thank you to everyone. To my readers, to my fellow Dottore simps, to my mutuals who indulged my tortured DMs after midnight, to the artist whose fan art inspired this idea to begin with. May you all have a lovely day╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Tag a Dottore enjoyer!! @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @mochinon-yah @diodellet @lcveaesop @oofasleep @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @boundinparchment @harmonysanreads @teabutmakeitazure @yandere-wishes @yanmaresu @nicebonescomrades @nimandu @lesanyanyas @moarar

#il dottore #dottore #dottore x reader #yandere dottore x reader #yandere dottore #yandere fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #tw: yandere #tw: dark #tw: blood #tw: death #tw: violence #tw: dubcon #spicy warning #mdni #g/n reader #jessamine-writing

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waayfo · 29 days

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i said, “do u think u’ll kill for me one day?” (yes, of course i will, my darling)

dottore x gn!reader. lyric from national anthem (demo). mentions of killing or murder / possessiveness / mentions of dottore’s real name / pet names / cursing / slight ?? yandere / ooc ( kinda soft dottore ). english is not my first language !

You know that Dottore, or your boss is a mad man who does as he pleases—at least that's what people think. But he always acts a little differently to you, which clearly shows favoritism. An act of favoritism that is certainly not left to some other people.

Other people try to take advantage, by asking you to make dottore do something. The most common thing that happens is when they ask you to beg dottore to release their newest prisoner (?) that became the subject of Dottore's experiments who is either their family or friend or partner.

And of course, you’re not happy with it.

You are not a tool to fulfill their wishes. And they were merely just strangers who suddenly came to ask for help, without repaying.

You are pissed.

But also scared at the same time.

Just now you came out of the room called the ‘sacred’ dottore's office. But a stranger who you guess is a new worker just by looking at his impolite behavior, suddenly grabs your arm and takes you somewhere.

“What the heck?!” You yelp. Ignoring the fact that the stranger's hands were shaking violently.

The stranger is now facing you. While his hand was still gripping yours tightly, to the point where you were in pain. "P- please help me!"

You let out a harsh sigh. "No, i won't help you. Thanks to your very impolite behavior.”

“W- w- wait! What do you mean?! This is urgent, and you must help me!” The audacity, you curse him in your mind.

“I said no!” Those three words managed to make him angry instantly.

“You—you should know your place! Is it because you managed to tempt The Doctor with your body and face means you can do whatever you want?!” You winced at his words, it felt like you were being stabbed by a knife, even though you know that it's all not true.

“If you will not tell that crazy man to free my friend—I will cut off your head, and present it to him.” You just looked at him in disgust thinking that he was a strange man. A disgusting strange man.

“Fuck off!” You yell at him.

Long story short, you managed to release his grip. But you couldn't help but notice the bruise on your wrist. You are increasingly annoyed and decide to end all this in an ‘inelegant’ way; using your heels, you stomp on his feet full of revenge. It should hurt a lot, you think.

And when you saw his reaction of pain and screaming, you immediately ran as fast as you could. Your body feels like it's on autopilot when you subconsciously search for someone you know too well— A tall and pale skin man, with light blue and slightly wavy hair, which makes anyone know his identity. And makes anyone afraid and even begs for mercy.

And there he was, standing straight with his hands behind his back like always.

“—tore,” Your breath hitches but tries to reach for his name.

“Dottore!” The man— Dottore looked at you quickly, as if he had been looking for you all along. He opened his arms, making room for you to fall into his embrace again. And you (will) happily return to his arms.

“Zandik!” You call his name once again, as if it were a spell that could make you happy for eternity. “Yes, dear?”

He lifted your chin, making you look up at him. His hand moved to wipe away a few tears that had fallen. Ah, since when have i cried? Why did i cry?

“What happened?” His calm voice made you shudder. You tightened your grip on his white lab jacket. And you know it won't cause him any pain.

You shake your head. "Nothing happened."

“Something happened,” His other hand, covered in a glove made especially for him, is now cupping your cheek. And his other hand, stroking your hair. “Am i right?”

The words are reluctant to come out and get stuck in your throat. You were too afraid to answer, too afraid to imagine what would happen to that stranger.

Silence enveloped the room. You only feel warmth, whether because of the heater in the room or because of Dottore's touch.

Knowing there would be no answer from you, dottore sighed. He placed you to sit on his desk. The desk was a little messy because of the papers, but there was still a place for you to sit.

Dottore's head lifted so he could see your face and what expression you were wearing right now— scared, with traces of tears.

His hand again rose to cup your cheek, then traced every curve on your face that he thought was beautiful. The touch felt strangely soft. Knowing that it was a touch from The Doctor— someone who had killed many people in order to achieve perfect experimental results.

And when he was about to hold your hand, he noticed something. A bruise on your wrist, a fucking bruise. That somewhat pissed him off.

“Who did this to you?” You can easily tell that he is angry, by the way he talks and the questions he asks.

“It’s— it’s just a random bruise i got—” “Stop lying.”

You were silenced quickly.

“You’re always been patient when other people try to take advantage of you,” Dottore's calm voice was whispery. If he knew about it all along, why did he continue to comply with your request?

Dottore closed his eyes for a moment, trying to connect the dots. “Someone asked you for help again? And you refuse, then they gets angry?” You nod.

“Is it a new employee?” You nod again.

“Tell me about them.” You told him straight away.

Dottore nodded. He noted it in his mind.

Out of sudden, you cupped Dottore's face. Cold, is the first thing that comes to your mind. Everything about him was cold, and so was his skin. You saw his pale face, but you couldn't guess what expression he had behind his mask.

As if he could read your mind, he took off the mask that covered part of his face. He put the mask right next to you.

“You’re not angry?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“Why?”

“Because i touch you– i touch your face.”

“Foolish question. Absolutely no.”

Dottore's hand covered yours that was touching his face. Maybe dottore can see your cheeks are a little red right now. Maybe now that stranger is scared right now that you managed run away.

You kissed Dottore's forehead as a thank you.

“I'll take care of it quickly.” And you can't imagine what experiments Dottore would do to the stranger.

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