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#Dottore scenario
outivv · 3 months
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That stupid doctor and his stupid favoritism. His idiocy causes for you to have twice the work that normal just to keep up with his schedule on top of your own! You’re already Dottore’s assistant, but now you also have to go along to all his meetings, supervise new clones with him, sometimes go on trips with him, and do your own research. He truly thinks you can do it all, and have no problem either- but you’re not like him. You can’t casually make a fake god out of some trans boy and a chess piece, you don’t even know why he hired you for this job, you were kicked out of the akademiya for… poor grades, and then Dottore just scooped you up and gave you a job here. It’s baffling, really- but… to be fair the job pays well, and Dottore gives you special treatment. “Don’t touch that. It’ll melt your face off.” Dottore warns sternly, because if you were anyone else- he wouldn’t warn you.
“But what if I wanna be an odd, oblong goo face?” You say, almost smug as you look at Dottore- who promptly looks… disgusted.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s foolish, and a waste of your time.”
“But anything that makes me happy isn’t a waste of time in my opinion.”
“Would that really make you happy?”
“I dunno, would it?”
Dottore looks unimpressed. He just looks at you, and you can feel his annoyed glare from under his mask- especially as you play with the vile of face melting liquid. He can’t help the sigh that comes out of his mouth, getting a headache from you… damn you, and being his favorite. “Must you always be so difficult?” Dottore grumbles, his sharp teeth showing off for just a moment as he returns to what he’s doing. “I think you quite like my difficult-ness.” Your smug attitude is not helping the situation. “I mean, I heard from Pantalone that you asked for quite a large sum of money for a ‘gift’ of some sorts. Course, he wouldn’t tell me the details.” Fuck you caught onto him. Dottore curses, and mumbles under his breath something about that ‘stupid banker and his stupid fat mouth that won’t shut up for two goddamn seconds’. Yes, well- Pantalone is known as quite the gossiper and chitchatter, and you have tea with him on the weekends. Unbeknownst to Dottore.
The sigh that escapes him again is one of defeat, and would put any other person into a coffin just at how frustrated he sounds too. “Yes? What if it?” Oh, now look at Dottore trying to be all nonchalant about it, well- luckily for you… you’re nosey. “I heard it’s a new creation, hm?” You say, examining your nails a bit, before your eyes flicker up to the doctor, and he just taps his fingers against the table in… such fucking annoyance. “Mhm. I usually go to Pantalone for funding. This time was no different.” Dottore says, acting like he’s not about to explode- but he could never do that to his favorite assistant. “Did you not hear me when I said that Pantalone specified that it was a gift?” Your snark is gonna get you nowhere yet… everywhere with Dottore, as he pushes away from the table he was standing at, and starts walking away. “Come now.” He beckons, not even looking back, but soon hearing the tap of your shoes following him. You simply go over to Dottore’s main workbench, and he sits down- pulls almost a billion little things out of drawers, and then… he assembles a box.
“What’s this?” You say, just curious, really. “Well you open it, and you look inside.” Oh, now he’s gonna be snarky back with you, huh? You roll your eyes, before gently lifting the lid of the box, and you’re disappointed to find a music box. How cliché of him. As if expending that, Dottore gently slides the box over to himself, simply twists the knob and then… a whole projection appears. The room, turns to an elegant ballroom, with figures dancing elegantly across the floor, and with you and Dottore in the middle. You’re stunned, shocked… other words for surprised- and you reach out to try and touch one of the projected people. Your fingers go right through them, until Dottore reaches out through the person, and grabs your hand.
“At the last… fatui event, I noticed you were rather… shaken up. I assumed it was because of the people, considering you seem most comfortable around the lab even when it’s just the two of us. No segments, no people, no distractions. And now, it’s the same in the ballroom…” Dottore says, taking his mask off, and nearly holding his breath as he looks down at you. Dottore has never been a man that you’ve known to be nervous, let alone reveal his thoughts to you in any way… he’s always been some kind of enigma, but that’s probably because he pretends to be this complicated man of extreme power and science. Now, he seems like something simpler, with his red eyes staring at you, as if begging for you to approve- and express some kind of gratitude. He’s arrogant, but even he needs validation.
“Dottore… this is fucking insane.” Is all you can say, you your hand ends up holding his, so… he’ll assume that it’s good? “That’s what people usually say to me.” He says, almost… playful?! Who the hell is this man and what has he done with Dottore who you one time saw eating straight up mayonnaise out of the container. “I mean, when you have elaborate ideas like this, I suppose I wouldn’t blame them.” You mumble, curiously looking at Dottore. What’s his aim here? What does he want from you? What is he trying to get. Before your mind can ask too many internal questions, Dottore clears his throat, and closes the music box, making the projection stop in the blink of an eye. “Well, there? Satisfied with knowing your gift before you were supposed to even get it? Brat.” Dottore says, almost angry, while he glares at you- and puts his mask back on. “Yeah, I appreciate it. Thank you, this is my favorite gift I’ve ever gotten…” you genuinely say, holding the box as Dottore practically shoves it into your arms and he starts dismissively walking off. He pretends to not hear you, but you can see the burning red of his ears. Damn him and his favoritism towards you.
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morose-melodies · 1 month
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hello!
First,i have something to say to the fatuis in the pregnant reader fic...JOKES ON YOU İ HAVE A HİGH CHANCE OF MİSSCARRİAGE AND PROBABLY NEVER HAVE KİDS(we can act like this part doesnt exists)
anyway,onto the point.Can i request capitano,dottore,Childe and pantalone with a reader who acts really REALLY cold towards them and refuses to ask any favor from them?like- even if they are thirsty in the middle of the night,they would just sleep,wait until the morning and then ask one of the maids for a cup of water.if anything here makes you uncomfortable you are free to ignore it!
cold as snezhnaya | various! yandere! fatui harbinger x reader
a/n: I got a little bit lazy sorry!!
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CAPITANO
capitano would bend over back for you, he'd do whatever you pleased... if only you'd ask.
initially, the captain hadn't noticed your cold demeanor, or... he simply didn't pay mind to it. perhaps you were having a bad day? well, he'd do everything in his power to make you feel better.
but, it never seemed to work.
no matter how many times he'd come home to you after a long grueling mission, you were still the same.
he had tried approaching you differently, giving you space, and even coming home with gifts. nothing worked.
perhaps you were afraid of him? he would remove his mask and armor before approaching you, and he would try to smile more for you - once again, nothing worked.
he wouldn't give up on you, ever. you were worth fighting for.
"(y/n)," he approached you one early morning, watching from a distance as you poured yourself, "how have you been? is there anything you'd like?"
he could hear you sigh once he started speaking.
"no."
he, too, sighed. you were complex - confusing but capitano wanted to figure you out. he wanted to suit you and be whatever pleased you.
but, he had tried everything. if he were being honest with himself, he was getting frustrated - not with you but himself.
he placed a hand on the counter, and watched you. he wanted to plead with you, to understand how you were feeling, to understand why.
"is there something upsetting you? you could tell me and we would-"
"no. no, I'm fine."
you took your tea and turned to leave.
the captain prided himself on his self-control. he would never lash out at you, so, why did he take a large step towards you and grab your arm?
if you weren't afraid of him before, surely you were now.
"(y/n), please. tell me what I could do for you, anything, ask anything of me. do you not understand how much I care for you?"
when you tried to pull away, a shocked look on your face, his grip tightened, "(y/n), answer me. do it or I swear to the archons-"
"let go-!" tugging once again, you tried to free your arm from his painful grip, "let me go! that's what i want."
he released you immediately.
if you asked, he'd never show his face to you again.
"(y/n), forgive me," he started, looking at you, at the way you looked at him and couldn't finish - he stood there, his heart pounding hard against his chest.
he was the worst, was he not?
he would spend the rest of his life working for your forgiveness, and wouldn't regret a second of it.
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DOTTORE
dottore had been considering something immoral as of late.
you've been acting differently, rude even and that was him putting it nicely. sure, he had been selfish by taking you from your home to be with him.
but, he was a selfish man.
your behavior was looked down upon, oh, how dottore hated it. it was unreasonable and immature.
he wished you'd grow up and talk to him about it instead of sulking and dragging your feet around the manor.
after a few attempts, dottore had given up on tending to your needs; he stopped trying to make you feel at home.
it didn't exactly matter how you felt, did it? you were here to make him happy, no? so, why were you making him feel so frustrated?
the sound of shattering glass caught dottore's attention - looking down at his bloodied hand, he saw that he had squeezed the small vial just a bit too hard.
you were becoming a distraction, a very bad problem.
now, as for what he was considering. well, he wanted you to change, to be the lovable angel you once were, it seemed impossible, oh, but it wasn't. not for him anyway.
and, it only took him five months to perfect it. in the form of a small pill was a life-changing drug.
"go get (y/n) for me," dottore asked of an assistant, pocketing the pill with his bloodied hand, oops. dottore looked at his hand, grimacing, he'd need to patch it up sooner than later.
a few minutes had passed when the assistant came back, peeking into the officer nervously, "come in - don't just stand there," dottore shook his head at the man.
"she's asleep, sir."
oh yes, it was nearly four in the morning. dottore nodded and waved the man off, he pocketed the pill and bandaged his hand.
...
while you were idly staring out a window, dottore dropped the pillow into your tea as he passed you by.
he'd be lying if he said he wasn't feeling even a little bit excited.
soon enough, you'd be the same (y/n) he met years ago, he mused as he made his way to his bedroom. oh, he needed rest badly and his back was killing him.
you took the mug and sipped the drink.
you pressed your cheek against the cold glass once more, your warm breath fogging up the glass. in the next few hours, you would idly sip your drink until it was gone.
dottore slept soundly, having forgotten about everything he'd done in the past few months. he was exhausted.
so, when you opened his bedroom door, peeking in at him.
he was confused.
"dottore, could I sleep beside you?"
"... of course," nonetheless, he agreed, how could he deny you?
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CHILDE
childe had randomly, at some point, anticipated that you might hate him and never return the love he feels for you.
it was a passing thought, though. he'd never sat down and thought of how he'd react, or how he'd convince you to love him.
but, now that he's in that exact situation, he's been thinking nonstop about it.
he didn't want you to hate him - he didn't want you to feel out of place in snezhnaya, he wanted you to be loved, and feel safe - he wanted you to feel at home.
seeing that you didn't enjoy being here or anywhere near him, his mind was fuzzy - he hadn't thought a straight thought in a while, especially when you were near. he wanted to hug you, or drop to his knees and beg you to love him back - if it would work, then he'd do it.
he was getting a bit desperate.
it was getting increasingly uncomfortable to sit in silence while eating by your side - shouldn't the two of you be talking to one another; enjoying each other's presence like normal couples?
clearing his throat, ajax asked, "how's the food, (y/n)? my... my mom used to make it all the time when i was little. huh, it's probably not giving her justice... her's had a distinct taste."
he was met with silence.
uncomfortable silence.
"... she would make it for my birthday... uh, it was my favorite."
you glanced at him, before looking back down at your food.
childe sighed, resting his chin into his palm as he looked at you. he was super frustrated "you're upsetting me, (y/n)... as much as i hate to admit it."
you lifted your head to look at him, your eyebrow raised, your fork hanging in your hand, "why's that?"
it was that! that exact attitude, that's why he was so upset! without much of a second thought, childe tugged you out of your chair, holding onto your arm tightly.
"gosh, (y/n), what's with you!? I love you, i love you so much! s-so why are you acting like this!? just tell me! tell me so i can make it better!"
squeezing your arms, his hands trembled. he was at his wits end with you; he just wanted your love, was that too much to ask for?
pulling you against his chest, he hugged you tightly, "(y/n), what did I do so wrong?" he pressed his lips to the top of your head, kissing you. "let me make it better, please let me fix this."
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PANTALONE
pantalone only ever gave you his best.
in appearance and attitude. you'd never catch him being angry, or having his hair disheveled - that was below him.
so, he couldn't understand why you were appreciative of all the effort he put into you - he would buy you nice clothing, hire maids to do your hair, have large breakfasts made for you, and even allow you to roam the garden freely.
he does all of that and yet you won't even speak to him willingly - it was disheartening, least to say.
but, he was understanding. you were scared, that had to be it, right? this was a very sudden change for you, of course, you were afraid.
or so, he thought.
as time passed, and he gave you time and space, he realized you were just cold to him and now, he simply couldn't understand why.
he treated you very well; he gave you affection and nice things, and he even gave you space when it seemed you needed it.
but, no matter what he did, he had never gotten a single 'thank you' from you. you had no manners and that upset him more than anything.
admittedly, he had gotten too angry.
watching you roam the snowy garden without as much as a coat frustrated him, but it mattered not; he'd give you his coat, and you would thank him if that was the last thing you did.
"(y/n), are you enjoying the garden?"
"I am."
"are you not cold?" as he walked nearer to you, he noticed you shifted away from him. once again, it did not matter! he would form you into a respectable person.
"no."
"you and I both know that's not true, here," slipping off his coat, he placed it over your shoulders and manually slipped your arms through the sleeves, "there - I'm sure you feel much better now, no?"
you stared down at the flowers, your lips pressed into a thin line.
oh, so you were upset now? "it was very gentlemanly of me to offer you my coat, a thank you would be kind."
he was simply suggesting it, or that's what his tone suggested anyway.
"I didn't ask for your coat, here you can have it back," you sighed, attempting to remove the coat to give back to him, "I'll go back in soon. it doesn't matter."
"no, no," he shook his head, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep the coat on, "it wouldn't kill you to thank me. have some manners, (y/n)."
he could see it in your expression, you were agitated. well, too bad.
"... (y/n), you're kidding me," he was surprised you'd be so stubborn, "can you not thank me? when have i ever asked this of you? not once. so, humble you-"
"thank you, pantalone, for the coat," you cut him off, glaring as you walked past him to go back inside.
it was a start! pantalone would take it. so, smiling to himself, he looked down at the flowers before him.
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lavenderchqn · 1 month
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synopsis — they deal with your persistent ex pairings — capitano, dottore , columbina, arlecchino, pantalone and tartaglia x reader (separate) warnings — toxic/abusive ex, stalking, harassment, implied murder/future murder notes — lmao, you can see these getting more and more unhinged the more I wrote.
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CAPITANO
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DOTTORE
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COLUMBINA
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ARLECCHINO
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PANTALONE
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TARTAGLIA
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date of posting — august 26th 2024
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kisakis-boyfriend · 11 months
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Hello! curious question, do you plan on continuing the "wet dream in your lap" series? because I'd love to see something with sub Dottore, although, I'll take anything, so ^_^
Wet Dream In Your Lap pt. 3 - Genshin Impact
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Pairings: Dottore, Childe x reader (separately)
Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom characters, somnophilia, clothed humping/grinding, choking (Childe), handjobs, characters are called by their real names (Zandik, Ajax)
Genre/Format: Smut; Scenarios
Author's Note: I did plan on continuing this a while ago, I couldn't think of which characters to include next though... Hope you enjoy this, anon!
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
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Oftentimes you serve as a personal assistant to the second harbinger, handing him whichever tools that he calls out, cleaning up said tools and wiping down the laboratory tables, taking notes during his countless experiments. Whatever he needed, you would be there to lend a hand or two
But you were also his partner and oftentimes you had to remind Dottore that he needed to rest. How is he ever going to take accurate notes from his projects if he's delirious?
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Despite your partner's many begrudging protests, the soft snoring that emanated from his position in your lap proved that this sleep was much needed. Pointy teeth peeked through Dottore's lips while his head rested on your shoulder, facing towards you with his arms snaked around your neck. Your own arms were wrapped around the doctor's waist comfortably, holding him close while he slept
Half an hour passed by before Dottore's snoring gradually faded into another sound. You had begun to drift off as well when the noise pulled you back to the waking world. It was hard to tell what exactly this new noise was, but eventually it became clear. It was a whine. Your partner was whining— and beginning to grind against you in your lap
The doctor's hips rolled against yours as a lewd — and rather loud — moan escaped from his lips, leaving you to blush and squirm underneath him, well aware that if this continued on you would get hard and slowly give in to your desires...
“Ah...y/n...y-yes, harder...” Dottore mumbled against your neck, calling out for you in his dreams, no doubt. Does this mean that his dream involved...you? Specifically, did it involve you fucking him? Your answers soon became clear when the doctor's hands unconsciously tangled in the hair near the nape of your neck, thrusting his hips more vigorously than before as he chased some feeling that the 'you' in his dreams caused
It was impossible to ignore the aching, wet feeling in between your legs now. With every sharp thrust against your lap, your dick grew harder and leaked more precum into your underwear. And clearly, your partner had the same issue; tilting your head down a bit, you noticed the growing wet spot on his pants as well. Dottore's own cock had been leaking the whole time, spilling into his underwear as they became stained with his sleepy lust
Carefully, you slid one arm in between your bodies and undid his belt buckle, slipping your hand down the front of his pants and stroking over the wet fabric. The action elicited a gutteral moan from Dottore, who began bucking his hips immediately. His sleepy mind could barely process the new sense of pleasure being administered to his stiff cock, humping your hand like a desperate puppy as you teased him
Letting one of your own needy moans slip out, you maneuvered your hand again and pushed it fully into Dottore's underwear, grabbing his drooling dick and stroking the shaft. “Yes...yes...gods yes...mmm y/n...” Came the doctor's wanton cries as you jerked him off languidly, hissing once your thumb found his slit and teased at the hole. His hips greedily chased your hand, fucking into your tight fist as more whorish sounds were breathed against your neck
“Mmm...good boy, Zandik. Such a cute whore even in your sleep.” You said, clutching the back of his shirt with your other hand. Groaning at how good his dick felt in your hand; slick and veiny and incredibly sensitive underneath your touch
Dottore's hips stuttered before stiffening while his cum painted the front of your shirt, squirting on his shirt a bit too. He always came so much, a little quirk that you found attractive and often used to tease him whenever you milked load after load out of him
After your partner settled down a little you began to squirm again. Even though he came minutes ago, he hasn't stopped humping you yet. Dottore's dick was semi-hard within your hand and making the hottest noises as he continued to fuck up into your cum-coated fist...but you hadn't cum once and it was starting to hurt...your baby's hot breath fanned against your neck with every moan and cry of your name and it was driving you fucking crazy
Surely the doctor wouldn't mind if you let go of his cock long enough to slip yours inside? He would probably love it if you used his sticky cum as lube to finger his hole before you pushed your own thick shaft inside and bounced him on your cock...
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It was no secret that the eleventh harbinger, Tartaglia, had boundless stamina. It's one of the reasons why most fatuus would sweat and stammer an excuse whenever the young man asked for a sparring match. That and his terrifying strength, that is...
You were one of the few people that could keep up with that stamina, somewhat... Today just so happened to be one of those days where your match lasted long enough to wear Childe out to the point of exhaustion. Swiftly falling asleep in your lap after you suggested a rest. His eyes fluttering shut as his head laid back onto your shoulder
The comfortable silence that fell over the secluded area that you had fought in was nice after such a fierce fight. Childe's steady breathing nearly lulled you into a lovely nap as well— until a breathy moan came out of him, anyways
Quirking a brow at the unexpected noise, you stared at Childe's face as it scrunched up, opening his mouth to moan again but this time bucking his hips into the air. It was obvious what was happening; your partner was having a wet dream. Calling out your name as his hands unconsciously searched for yours, grasping at them until you helped lace your fingers together. Childe turned his head to the side, now breathing against your neck and arching his back. “Unf...y/n pleeeassee...more, harder...aah– ”
The harbinger's slutty moans caused your dick to twitch, stiffening under him as his hips wiggled and humped the air with more frequency. His hands squeezed yours tighter as he bit back a groan, thrusting upwards one more time and then stilling. A dark wet spot made itself visible in the middle of his pants; he had cum. Your partner just creamed his pants in your lap
You were forced to bite back some sound of your own at the realization, involuntarily thrusting your own hips as you searched for any friction. Childe's lewd scene had you too worked up to ignore it, so you decided to fix the problem that he has created
Trying to go slow and not wake him up, you discarded your partner's pants and boots, leaving him naked from the waist down. You freed your cock from its constraints, growling as the wet head rubbed against your underwear on the way out. The way your member nestled in between Childe's soft cheeks sent a shudder through your body— swallowing dryly, you rubbed against his hole for a minute, teasing both of you before you pushed inside
It was tight... deliciously so. The head of your dick barely fit inside, but you pushed in harder until it popped in. The stretch was what woke the harbinger up, gasping as his eyes snapped open. The burn was immediately noticeable before Childe even figured out what was happening or remembered where he was. “Ah-aah! Ouch...what is– Hey...c-comrade?” He whined, gazing up at you with those beautiful, confused eyes
“Shh, you already came...now it's my turn–” You groaned as your cock pushed farther inside, dragging along your partner's impossibly tight walls. You snaked one hand up and wrapped it around his throat, squeezing tightly and said, “You were...fuck...were grinding on me...felt really good, hah- Mmm take that fucking cock, Ajax—!! ”
He had no choice (not that he would've chosen anything other than this) except taking your fat cock as you thrust up into him, bouncing him in your lap while your heavy panting filled his ears. Childe's hands are laid over yours, digging in harshly as he accepts his situation. Whimpering like a slut while you abuse his hole repeatedly. Not that the harbinger wasn't enjoying this, of course. The dumb smile on his face was proof that he was grateful for this outcome
Tartaglia's naughty dream earned him the kind of fast-paced, desperate fucking that he always begs for. In return, his hole clenched around your dick and he let every last moan and cry fall out of his whore mouth
“Yes, yes, yes...fu-uuuck!! Yesyesyesyesyes—!! ” Childe blurted out, moving his hands down to grab your thighs, using them as leverage to bounce himself and take more of your cock. You responded by choking him even harder, growling right into his ear while your dick pressed on his prostate, which caused your partner's eyes to cross
“Gonna cum, baby? Go on, cum for me. Slut. ” You teased, squeezing the base of Childe's dick before jerking him off. The way his voice goes up an octave and his moans become broken and pathetic signals his incoming release, begging as if his life was on the line while your cock drills his pretty ass
“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseyeahyeahyeahyeaaaaaahhhh—!! Fuuuuck yeeeaaahh—!! ” The harbinger cried, sinking down on your dick as it filled him completely, his own cock spraying another round of cum onto the ground as you milked him fucking dry
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Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3
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waayfo · 6 months
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i said, “do u think u’ll kill for me one day?” (yes, of course i will, my darling)
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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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2-dsimp · 7 months
Text
/—-//——/————\——\—
Praise
/—-//——/————————
(Fem reader)
🔞MDNI🔞
—-/—-//——/——————
Cw: deepthroating, creampie, praise kink, slight humiliation, oral m! Receiving, mention of overstimulation.
/—-//——/————\——\—
The Givers
“Fuck…Fuck me, Princess you’re blowing my brains out with how your soft lips keep sucking the ever living fuck outta my cock. Yeah, just like that keep going, you’re doing such a fantastic job fer me. Awe are you thirsty? Don’t worry doll I’m about to give you some jizz milk in just a second”
He groaned.
Feeling the heat of your slick saliva encompassing his foreskin while your tongue mapped out his shaft. Trailing your tongue flat alongside the prominent veins that pulsated underneath your attention. Which caused his heavy balls that were noisily slapping the base of your chin to tighten up ready to burst at any moment. A feral lopsided grin was present on his lips as he tugged on your hair, stuffing his fat dick meanly down your throat before letting out a loud audible growl. His shaft throbbing meanwhile he deposited his salty man milk, coating your esophagus in a creamy white hue.
/—-//——/————\——\—
The Overindulgent
“Please keep squeezing my cock with your sweet pussy baby! Uhn so delicious, feels sho wonderful I can’t stop… I can’t stop my hips. Don’t look at me like that, you know I can’t help it. It’s all your fault for being so tempting sweetheart! Haa the way your slick heat keeps suckling at my tip is driving me insane~”
He slurred.
Tears pricked his glistened eyes as he outwardly blamed you for how pent up he was. Sawing his long slender shaft in between your puffy pussy lips marinating it with your juices and left over cum he had spurted prematurely. Watching the way your gushy cunt suckled at his leaking blunted tip whenever he’d “accidentally” slip his cockhead inside. In a matter of seconds he became boneless at the sensitivity. And he whimpered bucking his hips while spraying bucket loads of his baby batter all over your simpering walls.
/—-//——/————\——\—
The Teasers
“Mhm you look so beautiful covered in my seed darling~ Hmm? What was that? You said you want to be full of my dick? Well don’t worry sweetness, keep being a good girl for me and I’ll fuck into your precious twat until all you can feel the phantom shape of my cock inside your tight walls. My pretty girl would love that wouldn’t she?”
He hummed.
Methodically torturing you, his eyes filled with sadistic mirth as he pinched and toyed with your nipples forcing you to arch your back. While he began rubbing against his half massed dick between the crease of your asscheeks smearing his precum against your puckered anus and your dripping pussy. He relished in having you under his control, at you begging for him to give you exactly what you needed while he humped your sweet ass. He momentarily adjusted his hips so that his thick shaft could slide in nicely between your moist quivering thighs. Aiding him in taunting you with the idea of him plunging his cock inside your spasming cunt. While he snickered cruelly into your ear as he kept purposefully knocking his fat tip against your pearl with each controlled thrust.
926 notes · View notes
eluxcastar · 5 months
Text
Dottore giving child reader a check up
── ୨୧:il dottore & reader
୨୧﹑synopsis :: nobody scares you more than the Doctor, and that's why you're wholly betrayed by Father tricking you into getting a check up right under your nose, but perhaps your worries are exaggerated by rumours
୨୧﹑genre :: fluff
୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, he's a lil soft (cause if he's not poor kid might explode on site), reader is mute, reader is also autistic (but tbh you don't have to read it that way), not proofread
୨୧﹑words :: 2.9k
idk what possessed me to write this I just has the thought and decided it had to be done. I got in the zone and wrote it in a few hours 😭 this is kinda loosely based off one of my characters but ambiguous enough I think to be read as a reader insert. little ball of anxiety with legs reader hehe. they come from the house of the hearth so every instance of father refers to arle
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You can't think of a single person able to scare you nearly as much as the Doctor can, whether it's the daunting trip to find him wherever he hid this time or the fear of knowing he tried to bargain with Father to have the more unimpressive children—as some would call you—shipped off to him to become experiments.
Father won't allow him to get his hands on any of you, but it hardly eases the fear that he may disregard Father's warning and decide to pluck the first child he comes across up and feign ignorance when she realises they've disappeared.
Father personally entrusted you with this letter, so you cannot turn back as you make your way to where she said he should be. 
The sleepiness might manage to numb you to the danger by the time you arrive and make it easier to stomach his presence, but most likely, he will only frighten you awake, and it will worsen with the shock to your system.
There's no turning back now and no declining when Father asks you to take letters, which she says are of great importance. You can't treat letters like this lightly, even if you fear the recipient.
Knowing who is behind it makes the door all the more daunting. Doors that separate you from Harbingers always make you nervous as it's not every day you find yourself faced with one armed only with a letter and shaking hands. If it were anyone else, you could've knocked in a heartbeat, but you pause to gather your bearings before raising your hand to knock.
One two, three…four. Spaced just as Columbina taught you to, and then you wait.
Several seconds pass in silence before you hear footsteps from inside, then a voice calling out to you. "The door is unlocked."
You reach for the handle, cautiously cracking open the door just enough to peek inside. Your eyes travel across the room from your left to your right until you spy Dottore seated in a chair facing away from you. He hears you, evident in the way he turns to look at you as you work up the courage to step inside and leave the door ajar behind you.
"It's you," he remarks, the closest to acknowledgment you expect to receive. You are about to make your way to hand him the letter when he interrupts you. "Close the door."
The door is always closed here like it's trying to keep someone out, but there's no one here that he would dread seeing who would knock and accept that the door is locked. He must not be trying to convince anyone of that, and if he was, maybe he'd lock the door for real and leave everyone stranded outside instead of talking.
Dottore makes you nervous. You don't know what he thinks or why, but you probably don't like it. It's the only reason why he would be here right now. Normal doctoring wouldn't get him far as a Harbinger, and the sounds you've heard coming from his lab are enough to deter you from wondering too much. 
Instead, you quietly spin yourself around to push the door closed before returning to your endeavour of handing him this letter from Father she entrusted you with.
"Who is it from?" he asks, a question you remember him asking before too. You concluded that he's trying to gauge how eager he is to read it, and your answer will set his mood for the remainder of your stay.
You turn the envelope over to show him the seal on the back, which you hold out to him. The mark of the House of the Hearth—Father's seal—is displayed so that Dottore can glean the answer from wordless actions. He accepts it from your hand with a stifled eagerness, the hopes of something he'll enjoy written there held back by the knowledge that, in all likelihood, it's a trivial matter.
The moment the letter leaves your hands, you retreat to the safety of the door, where you stand beside the frame to await a half-hearted reaction or collect his response. Father is always happy when you return to the House to inform her that Dottore sighed when he read her letter, even if she regards the news with her usual stoicism. She despises when he bothers to send something back to her, but she never tells you why, as usual.
He collects something off his desk just out of your sight, hidden behind him, and the sound of paper tearing follows. He drops the twice-folded paper into his hand, then unfurls it to read the contents.
You wait in silence, nerves evening out as you rub the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand. Sleepiness does help you occupy yourself if nothing else.
Then, you are interrupted by a snap of his fingers and a motion of his hand to usher you closer. 
Keeping him waiting will only make him mad, though you're sure not enough time has passed for him to pen any cohesive message in the minute or two you spent waiting.
You look up in anticipation nonetheless, expecting him to hand you something or tell you something so when he reaches toward you, it doesn't alarm you. 
Not until he grabs you beneath your arms, picks you up, and sits you down on the table, much closer to eye level with him.
"Arlecchino has her concerns about your sleeping habits and your seeming lack of will to speak," he begins, reaching behind you to grab something you barely follow before he has it in his hands. It's only a light, small and thinner than the torches at the House.
Your mind races with every question you can think of as you try to find a way off this table back to the floor, but the only way out is blocked by Dottore sitting in front of you, unsympathetic to the fear in your eyes when you stare at him. You could swear you hear your heartbeat thrumming in your ears in a quickened rhythm.
What was written in that letter? Was it about you? It takes only a brief glance down in search of the open letter to realise exactly what makes this delivery so important. Father tricked you into coming here to see the Doctor after you so eagerly declined her previous offer to go willingly. You catch glimpses of your name in Father's handwriting and little else as it blurs into a messy sea of details, but you always recognise how Father writes your name.
You know better than to assume this is punishment but rather the manifestation of Father's worry as you keep oversleeping lately and need one of the older children to fetch you from the comfort of your bed. The idea that habit would land you here, presumably getting a check-up, might've inspired you to prize yourself out of bed a little earlier had you known.
Dottore seems to gauge your trembling as an obvious sign of fear, though a twitch at the corner of his lips is your only indicator, as you can't see his eyes beneath the mask. "Her explicit concern was whether or not you're ill." He rests his hand against your knee— they're cold, yet you almost expect it. It doesn't mean you especially like it. You can only interpret the action as a skewed attempt to comfort you. "As long as you're healthy, I see no reason to keep you longer than a simple check up."
He's not a real doctor, is all you can think, and he doesn't know what he's doing.
You have no choice but to steel yourself for whatever pain you're about to be subjected to. It might hurt, but you have no way out, no way back to Father, so you can curl up in a ball at her feet and ask why she would subject you to this torture—
"Don't tense your jaw," you suddenly hear, realising his finger taps your knee to grab your attention back from dreamland. "Open your mouth," he instructs you, and rather simply at that. It's something you can follow without getting scared he'll hurt you somehow.
He shines that light at you, inspecting something, though you can't say what. A slight tilt of his hand and, by proxy, the light he's holding is your only sign he's looking at anything.
The light is off before you know it. There was no pain at all, not even a hint of discomfort beyond what naturally arises from your ever-present anxiousness.
Dottore moves to set the light beside you, then appears to change his mind as he offers it to you. You take it from his hand and click it just as he had, the light coming on again. Another click, and it's off. Holding it just like that, an object of clicks and ridges and a light you can play with, is enough to give you something to at least take your mind off the fear of getting hurt.
"Lift your head." 
This time, compliance comes easier as you tilt your head up until the point his hand stops nudging you, and instead, he presses his fingers against your throat. It's light enough to feel only slight pressure; it doesn't hurt, but you don't like that feeling. Your thumb brushes over the exterior of the light, smooth against the pads of your fingers and satisfying to touch. You pull away before you can come to your senses and stop yourself, but he lets go the moment your discomfort flares, and you do the closest you can to telling him no.
Your breathing begins to even back out seeing his hands so clearly in the air in front of you, away from you, not touching you. It's silent reassurance that what you just did counts enough as revoking his permission to touch you as anything can.
Dottore doesn't feel like dealing with the fussy child that trying to force it would invoke for a mere favour to the Knave.
Instead, simply asking you like the fully grown child you are seems much more efficient. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, all yes or no," he begins. "They're all simple enough you can answer without speaking."
You interpret the ensuing silence as Dottore waiting, expecting you to nod or shake your head, and you quickly offer a nod in agreement.
"Do you know if you're able to speak?"
You consider his question carefully, unsure of the answer. Your hesitation prompts him to rephrase the question.
"Are you able to make any noises at all?"
You nod. You know the answer to that.
"But not speak in full words?"
Not words. Words don't work. You shake your head.
"Would that be because you're physically unable to?"
You shake your head. You've spoken before, but each time you try, especially here, something robs you of your voice before you get the chance. You know you can talk, just not here like this. 
"If not physical, then there's nothing wrong with you," he concludes. It feels sudden like there should be more, but he stops so quickly. "Nothing that I can fix," he promptly adds. That explains it.
Why not? He doesn't answer, unable to hear the things you don't say. To him, you remain as starkly silent as ever and as difficult to treat as you have been the past few minutes. You suspect he came to some greater conclusion between when you first walked in and now but neglects to share with you what it is.
You must look unsatisfied or just confused as he pauses to stare at you. You look away first, eyes drifting back to the light in your hands.
"Arlecchino only wanted to know if something was physically wrong with you," he says, briefly looking down at the letter as he skims a particular section again. "Your poor sleep may be the result of insomnia, or whatever is causing the mental block that also prevents you from speaking."
Mental block? Nobody ever told you about anything like that. 
You eye him curiously, though you again remain silent, watching him while you think he isn't looking back. It's easy to look at him as long as you don't consciously think of the fact that he's staring at you behind that mask.
Dottore holds his hand out expectantly, a motion of his fingers telling you he wants you to return what you have in your hands to him. You do so, but not without a sadness-driven hesitance to accompany it.
"None of the things you're describing imply a physical problem, but a paranoid 'parent' overattentive to the wrong facets of what could be wrong with an orphan." You don't like the way he says that as if he's speaking ill of Father, but like always, you keep your mouth shut. "If you couldn't speak because of a physical injury, you would have presented with one when you arrived at the House of the Hearth—not now. Trouble sleeping and an elevated heart rate, shortness of breath, intense panic and your tremors are more likely the symptoms of anxiety." 
That's a lot of words, but as he quickly lists every example, you seem to become conscious of it. Mental block, anxiety. Those are the two things you've been told that sound like explanations. You look down as if on instinct, hands held in front of you to investigate his claims that you're shaking. You are. Before your eyes, your hands are trembling, though you can't say why. You look back at him to see if he has anything else to say.
You thought your sleep troubles weren't the same, the result of bad dreams, but supposedly not. Dottore doesn't know anything about that, does he? No, he can't. You never told him, so he can't know. He knows lots of things he shouldn't, like your heart racing when you're scared or how you feel like you can't breathe at times. 
Dottore clicks the light on again, shining it down at your hands resting in your lap. He circles it in place, and your eyes follow. It clicks off again after a few seconds. "Distraction helps anxiety," he says, then sets it down on the desk beside you. "Do you know why you can't sleep?" he asks.
Yes. You nod. Dreams. On nights when they're at their worst, they keep you awake long past bedtime when all others have gone to sleep. By breakfast, you can be so tired and sleep-deprived that dozing off over your food is the only thing you can manage.
You half expect to sit through another round of questioning before Dottore finds the one that clicks the pieces perfectly together in his head, just as he did in the first round.
Instead, Dottore stands, and his hands find your sides to hook you under your arms. Your feet are back on the ground before you can fuss any more about how much you do or do not like it. With you out of his way, he flips the paper Father wrote her request to him on.
"If you know the answer, then you're free to go."
That's it?
You stare up at him for a moment, perplexed by the surprising lack of pain compared to the abundance of fear you felt. It should have hurt, but it didn't, and now you don't know why you were so against coming here in the first place. Dottore spared five or ten minutes of his time, which he already didn't want to give you, and is sending you on your way without injury,
You can't see his face as he's turned away, writing something down that you can't make out. If you took a guess what it is, it's probably about you, just like the first one was. Still, you can tell why Father is so annoyed to receive letters from him. You don't recognise your name when he writes it. You don't recognise anything he writes. His handwriting is awful.
He folds it and slips it back into the envelope it was given to him in. That's not proper etiquette, but something in the way he practically shoves it into your hands tells you that he doesn't particularly care. So long as it gets from him to Father, it doesn't matter how it gets there in his eyes.
"Give that to the Knave." That is his final instruction. You're very used to following those kinds of instructions by now, having heard and executed them many times. They're second nature to your mind.
You nod, pinching it between your fingers to keep the paper from falling out of the open envelope. If Father's was critical, so is this one, and you'll get it back to her quickly—more importantly, safely.
You can't help wondering why it felt so much easier to have someone briefly look at you and ask a few questions. The older children make it sound torturous and barbaric, like being used as a lab rat to spite Father for her refusal with his only opportunity to access the children of the House.
Perhaps seeing a doctor to ease Father's worries isn't as scary as you believed.
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eros-kisser · 10 months
Note
Could I ask for headcannon for Dottore with a partner who is interested in his work? And doesn’t mind the dissection and organs?
( wowow we have a lot of dottore fans here dont we~ i hope its okay if i put my own yandere-ish theme on this... dottore is a real delusional guy anyways..! feel free to request again if it doesnt meet your expectations ahaah... )
NSFW.
— of course, it'd come to dottore as a surprise if you didn't mind all the guts and gore. this line of work certainly isn't for anyone... but this revelation surely shouldn't shock him this much, should it? this tight, elated feeling in his chest that's bringing him such pleasure is in no way affection, nor is it admiration - no, it's the tinges of obsession.
— you don't mind it if he dissects a mangled corpse before your eyes? his heart just beats faster as his face contorts into a twisted smile. if that's the case, of course you'd be more than willing to help him with some of his darker experiments, wouldn't you? you wouldn't be like those ignorant fools, who'd gag and laugh at his work ...! little by little, dottore is falling unwittingly in your trap, trailing after your every move, not wanting to leave your side... ah, that's exactly it. why should he have to endure the empty, terrible feeling he receives whenever he's not in your presence? it's a sin that simply shouldn't be allowed.
— then you really can't blame the man when you wake up one day, eyelids heavy and limbs strapped down to a table? nor can you blame him if he pumps "medicine" into your veins, his face red with desire as he claims it's all for "research?" you can't move at all? that's fine, you won't have to for what he has planned. all you have to do lay there and sing those all too pretty moans from your lips as he slides himself into you, his pace erratic, needy, desperate. an oversensitive body isn't a concern, why should it be? doesn't it just mean that you're having as good of a time as he is, busy using you for his perverted pleasures and not paying heed to the number of times you've cummed on his cock? there won't be any need to worry - after all, dottore handles his patients with sickening care, and you won't be any different. <33
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❦ Oh no, there seems to be only one bed. Whatever will we do? pt.2❦
My favourite hate-love trope in which you have to share a bed with your crush.
Finally leaving my drafts now after everyone started making the "too many beds trope" (which is funny ngl)
pt.1 here
//Thoma, Itto, Dottore, Alhaitam//
(you can tell on who I just gave up entirely. Also my english is deterioating, maybe I'll proofread in the following days...)
no pronouns mentioned :)
Thoma
If you didn't know better you'd say that this situation was carefully crafted by your employer. It had to be. Ayato had fun watching you squirm around your colleague. Which you did anytime Thoma shot you one of his signature smiles, or when he leaned over your shoulder to inspect what you were doing. You folded so quickly whenever he laughed at one of your jokes. How could you not? The guy was the sweetest thing one could ever lay eyes on.
All of that aside, you just had a feeling that this situation was no coincidence, as you stood there, next to your fellow maid, staring at the bed.
You blinked, then looked over at Thoma.
The poor guy. 
Before you could actually grasp the situation and make a comment about it, he already yelled out "I can sleep on the floor". 
When you turned to look at him, the first thing you noticed were his bright red cheeks. The second thing you noticed was the mild terror in his facial features. 
You blinked at him, taken aback by surprise before mumbling "You sound like the thought of sharing a bed is dreadful to you." You let out an awkward cough before speaking up again "I wouldn't want you to sleep on the floor but.. maybe we can find another mattress, if it's really that bad for you?" you raised an eyebrow, eyeing him with suspicion.
A shimmer of dicomfort hushed across his features. The accusation didn't sit right with him. He cleared his throat while scratching the back of his head in embarassement "Hm, no. That's not... what I meant...". He sighed "I just wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable you know.." A sheepish smile crossed his features while the blush only seemed to worsen "I'd actually.. like bedding with you- Ah!" He caught himself in a cough "Not..not like that! Oh" He hid his mouth beneath his hand, staring at you "Please say something before I keep talking".
Your only answer to that was a soft laugh, followed by a quiet but adoring "Alright, let's bed together then." With a smile you went ahead to get ready for the night, giving the blonde a second to compose himself before following your example.
(would sleep on the floor, maybe even outside if you'd ask him to)
Itto
As soon as the two of you laid eyes on the bed..: "Dips" both of you yelled in unison, before staring at each other.
"Well" you crossed your arms "sharing is caring…?" You tilted your head and he nodded. "Yeah yeah, that's right. We'll just share. It'll be fiiine". He looked embarrassed but you didn't know what caused it. Maybe he was just nervous that he might fart during the night or something.
Then a thought hit you. "Oh" you looked at him "oh my, do you snore?". Your eyes widened in horror at the mental image of how loud he'd probably snore. He seemed offended. "What? ME? Snore? Noooo I don't snore" he made a move with his hand. 
All in all: "I'm not convinced" you sighed. 
"Okay okay, tell ya what" he pointed a finger at you "I know I don't snore but if you find me snoring in the night, I'll give you money. If I don't snore I'll get to take you out. How does that sound? Deal?" He extended his hand, which you naturally took to shake "Yeah whatever big boy, all you're gonna end with is crippling debt" you laughed. You didn't actually know if he was a snorer but you just had to believe now.
Both of you shook hands when you paused "Hold on" you narrowed your eyes, shooting him a confused look "why take me out? Like…you don't mean as in…death right??". He gasped "WHAT? No no no, not like death, I mean like food. Eat something. Make you less hungry yknow?". He shrugged "I've wanted to ask for some time now but the chance never came", he scratched his head embarrassed before returning to his signature grin "but now I'M going to win and you have to come with me. You can't say no!".
You chuckled quietly, shaking your head in disbelief 'what an idiot' you thought. "Alright" you murmured "let's get to bed then" 
(You cannot tell me that the guy doesn't snore, I am CONVINCED that he does (my friend said he'd probably have a snore bubble too and now I can't unthink it (ANOTHER friend mentioned how he doesn't sleep with his eyes closed, I'm losing my mind at the mental image)))
Alhaitam
As soon as he sees your embarrassed expression he´s like „we´ll sleep on the floor“ and that‘s it. I know you wanted this. Thank me later.
Dottore
Never would you have guessed that one day you'd end up in this situation.
You, standing next to your BOSS of all people, in front of a lonely bed.
It's not like you hated the man next to you. In fact he was actually quite nice towards you. Or…at least as nice as the guy could get. But you were still alive after like 3 years of working for him, so that already counted for something. 
You were more of a simple task person, so everyone always dumped some sort of random task onto you. Through that, you've managed to actually befriend some of your colleagues although you've started to not get too personal with them. Sometimes some of them just went missing and you really didn't want to ask anyone what that was about. Instead you opted for the emotional distance option. 
It was wild to think about. The only reason Dottore took you with him on his mission was because everyone else was busy, preparing for something big. You, on the other hand, were not so busy. All that was left for you to do was to bring an occasional glass of water to one of the other workers. So when Dottore asked you to join him on his travels, you just nodded, not giving it much thought. 
But even if you had given it much thought, the idea of ending up sharing a bed together would've probably been the last thing to cross your mind. 
Before you could actually grasp the entire situation though, Dottore had already started taking off his unnessecary accesoires, leaving them on the bedside table. Clearly he didn't care about the whole situation.
You on the other hand needed another second or two to collect yourself. You looked at him, wondering if he even mentally checked that this was about to happen or if he was so far off into logic land to recognize your presence in the first place. Sighing you just took off into the bathroom, following your bed routine like usual....
(says either we take turns on the bed or we share, who cares honestly, the man's on a mission)
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silkjade-archived · 2 years
Text
genshin men as wedding dates (3)
It’s wedding season and you’ve got a large one coming up. But it’s not just any wedding, it’s a family wedding meaning…extended relatives. Are you going to brave the night out on your own or are you rsvping with a plus one?
Featuring— Alhaitham, Cyno, Tighnari, Kaveh, Dainsleif, Dottore (edit** written before kaveh release)
gn!reader, modern au, mentions of alcohol, mostly platonic but implied romantic feelings
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (here)
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AL HAITHAM
there has to be some sort of trade-off; his time is precious so there's got to be something in it for him. luckily for you, who's one of the few people he considers a close friend, it's just some random errand he doesn't want to run
he’s a mediocre date; follows your lead and is just kind of a wallflower honestly. will make polite conversation but only if someone talks to him first
drinks just enough to loosen up but not enough to get sloppy, and definitely still sober enough to read the book he brought. you leave him be, but you’re still going to go have a good time at this reception
yikes someone from the groom's guest list comes sidling up, hoping to shoot their shot with the handsome stranger sitting alone. of course he gets annoyed; not only was this person disrupting him but wasn’t it obvious he came with you?
wait where are you
he finds you on the dance floor with… someone else??… which is fair since he's here as a friend, but he strides up to you anyway and does not hesitate to interrupt
"thanks for keeping my date entertained but I'll take it from here" and then he leads you away to a different corner of the dance floor
did not think this all the way through because now he’s dancing with you but it’s just so…… robotic. he tries, he really does, but that doesn’t stop the secondhand embarrassment from anyone who happens to see him. you don’t mind though, you think it’s cute
"finally haitham, I've been waiting for you all night!" and then you kiss him on the cheek
perhaps it was a combination of the lighting effects and the alcohol, but you don't notice the blush on his face
CYNO
events like these aren’t really his vibe but you catch him in a good mood after you 'laugh' at one of his jokes
seems like a very intimidating guest at first and that’s not the impression he wants to give to your family, so he brought his joke book! chooses to tell one at your table during dinner and the silence after he explains the whole thing is truly deafening
he tries again but says "how about this one; y/n thought it was hilarious." so now you have to fake laugh and elbow the cousin sitting next to you to laugh as well
one of the uncles from the table next to yours actually overheard and leaned back in his chair to tell him it was hilarious so that’s a win
when you get overwhelmed by relatives asking you when you're getting married, he steps in to help you but accidentally says,
"we'll take the step when we're ready"
wait what
mans is a mess trying to fix the situation and you've never seen him like this so now you have to save him by laughing it off and dragging him away
he plays genius invokation tcg with some of your teen relatives; they were losing though, so they distract him by saying "heard the next wedding's you and y/n" and it works
he gets really awkward around you after that and you have to reassure him that it’s fine, no big deal! you even joke that if fake dating tonight would get all the annoying aunties and uncles off your back, then sure let’s do it
he’d never tell you, at least not anytime soon, but it doesn’t sit right with him to hear you say ‘fake dating’
TIGHNARI
if you’re not bringing a bag/clutch/purse/whatever, then he will and he has everything: antacids, aspirins, bandaids, safety pins, an epipen, etc
wow this venue decorated the place with such nice plants, a shame they’re not for anyone to take home. good thing no one noticed him take clippings to propagate
it's great to have him on your team because he is very good at all the physical wedding games like cornhole, ring toss, etc. you don't win anything except bragging rights but at a family wedding? sure, you'll take it
doesn’t smile in any group photos; only smiles in photos of just the two of you and selfies that you take on your phone, even though he pretends to be over it
is not nice to your offensive relatives; super passive aggressive with lots of backhanded comments. he'll make some snide remarks under his breath but everyone thinks he's joking. finds out one of your uncles is a flat earther, and takes it personally
complains about the music and how it's too loud but doesn't do anything about it, so you take him outside for a stroll in the little botanical garden
despite the nice, peaceful atmosphere of the garden, you guys do eventually have to regroup with everyone else gathered out on the lawn to watch fireworks and tighnari is doing is absolute best to stall
"....eh, we can see just fine from here, no?" he says as he pulls you down next to him onto the bench he's sitting on. if he plays his next cards right, maybe... you'll even rest your head on his shoulder?
KAVEH
he asks you if he can come as your date to the wedding because he loves these sorts of events and you agree because it’s always a fun time with kaveh
neither of you want to be dd so somehow… somehow he ropes his ‘annoying roommate’ into driving you two there and back
makes sure both of you are dressed to the 9's; maybe he wants to upstage the wedding party because he arrives in a satin suit and his shirt is unbuttoned dangerously low. some poor relative has to take a million photos of the two of you until he likes it, and then some more ‘just in case’
shows off some of his architectural work from his phone; even gets a few inquiries from your rich relatives for future jobs. networking king
once it hits cocktail hour, you’re taking a shot together. his arm is around your waist and that’s where it stays the entire time you guys are mingling with others
drinks a little too much and gossips about your family a little too loud though, so you've gotta reel him in even though you're not too far behind
drags you onto the dance floor and is a fun, but messy, dancer. you guys are in almost all the candid shots the photographer takes
on the drive back his roommate makes an extremely sharp turn and you find yourself thrown into kaveh. physics, am I right. you’re apologizing profusely even though he insists it’s fine and that you should, in fact, just stay in that position, your body against his
throws up in the car after you get dropped off and the next morning you wake up to a slew of messages from him complaining about how his roommate is so cruel for making him clean his car at 7am with zero regard for his hangover
DAINSLEIF
he agrees to go but panics the week of and keeps asking you if you're sure you want to take him as your date even though it's been rsvp'd for ages
maybe not the most fun date, but overall not a bad date
offers you an arm when you two go somewhere together, holds your hand through a crowd, pulls your chair out for you during the reception, etc
brought you one of every dessert from the buffet and risked looking like an absolute glutton because
“you said to bring you a dessert, but didn’t specify which one”
he’s very sweet to the older guests; they are swooning and keeps winking and telling you he's a keeper. you don’t have the heart to tell them you’re not even dating
gives random unsolicited advice and it’s always a hit or miss
he is so awkward in the photobooth because he doesn’t know what to do? it takes 4 photos in one strip and he looks the same in 3 of them. finally on the last one you do the thing where you lift up the corners of his mouth so he’s at least smiling
keeps his copy in his wallet for a long time, maybe even forever who knows
you never thought him to be a dancer so you’re a little surprised when he asks you to slow dance; even more so at the fact that he is very good at it??
you follow his lead, and dancing with dainsleif is honestly such a tender moment. if not for the color of your clothing, people might have mistaken you two as the newly weds, what with the way he’s looking at you while you rest your head against his chest
you see him crack a sliver of a smile when you catch the bouquet and you think that he’s just happy you won. but he knows full well what it insinuates especially when everyone’s clapping him on the back in congratulations
DOTTORE
you only ask him if he's your absolute last option because why in your right mind would you take dottore as your date to a family wedding. he only agrees to go as 'an experiment'
pick out his outfit please lest he wear one of his funky little suits
introduces himself as dr. and he's so dramatic about it so a lot of people are fawning over him; you suppose all families love a doctor but only you know that he's technically not even legally allowed to practice medicine
scowls behind you when an old family friend starts talking to you for a bit too long. excuses himself to socialize with said friend, but then you wonder why hardly anyone else approaches you the rest of the night
insists on you wearing his suit jacket because he doesn't want you to 'catch a cold'
he makes the 7-year old flower girl cry at the reception but the thing is, he wasn't even trying? everything he says sounds vaguely threatening and kids are just terrified of him
so first of all he makes it very clear that he's doing this for you okay; he will make it up to you by doing some simple science party tricks for the kids
.... except he way overdoes it and sets off a mentos/soda rocket into the ceiling
and he’s not even sorry; he’s actually proud of that little demonstration like ‘go little rockstar.’ you’re forced to leave early in shame
he does go down as a family urban legend though because aunties will say "if you don't behave, the scary doctor will come get you!”
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With so many new characters, I feel like part 3 has been long overdue!
© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform
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mellowwillowy · 1 year
Text
𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐂𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬
Yan! Circus Performers x GN!Reader
(Feel free to insert the Yans yourself, I will tag some that could work by the ending)
TW: Body horror and details (Yans and Reader), general Yan warnings, proceed with caution. (Gore level: 1.5)
Darker than night, deep in the woods you'll find Standing alone, a circus that no one knows
Was it a mistake for you to wander into the woods? With a pamphlet in your hand, you strayed into the woods to see the circus. The pair looked so adorable, the two of them looked alike as though they were only mirroring each other. Although their face looked sad, the two sounded cheerful…. as though they were trying to cover their cries…
Children who can't even carry the trembling limbs they were born with
Master of all, nearly ten meters tall Watching the show, eyes that will slowly grow
Yet no one had ever seen the Master of the Circus.
All who perform smile with faces torn Happy with glee, strange as they look to me
You looked at everyone. The pair of Aces looked into you as they laughed merrily, reminding you of the Ace that you never got in a game of blackjack. The other performer offered you their hand as though they were asking you for a dance. A dance, with a performer that was at least 6 meters tall, oh how amazing.
Shall the fun start? Follow me to the Dark Woods Circus Please, join the festivity
The pair of Ace ran into the circus, and their laugh rang endlessly. The tall performer's back was tapped by another performer who was just as tall as them.
They smile as they dream of their mother's embrace
Come and see the two-headed (freak) of nature
The pair of Ace smiled eerily, both of their hands clasped to each other, the cloak covering their bodies taken off revealing stitched bodies. ""Oh what fun! Come, child of human! Kekekekeke…"" Their laugh was just as mirrored as their appearance and fate!
Gaze at a siren, her flesh deformed
"Don't you find me beautiful, dove? Do you perhaps envy me? Truth is that I envy you instead." They held your hand, their eyes unable to find yours and yet they envy your beauty.
Fear the all-eating beast and his love for cold Decaying meals that once were warm
The man's arms were bound to his back, the only thing he could do was feast what was placed in front of him! The woman next to him buried her head into her knees, her surroundings were painted in red wine. "It's delicious, they are delicious, Mother, it tastes so good. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm SORRY" "Kekeke, do you have more for us to eat? We'd like to eat you but… a shame… love… heart… kekekeke…"
Did we ask to breathe? Did we ask to only be abused, Living in bodies like these?
The pair of tall performers started dancing, twirling, spinning lovingly as they tried not to step on you. Their eyes stared into each other, dared not to make any mistake with their steps. ""Perhaps it would be nice for the three of us to dance together?"" Their voice rang as their eyes looked down, staring into yours. "It won't hurt that much, dove" "They'll just break and attach a new pair of legs on you, dove"
When you look at me, what is it that you see? Now a face rotting and torn at the seams
"See? I knew you were beautiful." The pair of Ace took off their blindfold, their eyes bore into yours. "So beautiful, a pair of legs, a pair of eyes, and a face that doesn't rot! You look like a dove!"
Through the pain I scream, how "it hurts so badly" "But we can't help it or do anything"
"Don't you think you'll look even more beautiful if you look exactly like one?"
As the girl would weep, telling me this sadly We perform, always the circus repeats
"Or perhaps we could clip your wings." "That way, you are forever bound to us." The pair laughed again, this time their hands were unclasped, reaching out to you.
How I love the show! How I love it all so! Can you see how fun a circus can be?
The pair of Ace jumped, their voice filling the whole circus as they cheered endlessly.
As our flesh decays and our eyes melt away With a face rotting, it's fun every day
""Because we've found ourselves an injured Dove!! Cheer to everyone, Cheer to the deformity of our Master!!""
How I long to die, why am I still alive? Anyone help me escape from this life
"We have captured the Dove's heart! It decides to rest here!" "Let's clip their wings so that they can rest eternally!" "We'll share our food! The best lump of meat you could ever taste of!" ""Fear not, for the Dove could dance even without its wings"" """" Why do you look terrified, Dove? We LOVE you! We CHERISH you! We WANT you!""""
"You can never leave", yes, I have a feeling Long ago, someone had told this to me It is impossible for anyone to say and feel
"Welcome to the Dark Woods Circus"
A pair of hands placed upon your shoulder, their lip brushed the tip of your ear. Everyone bowed down toward the subject behind you.
"Master," Everyone greeted.
--- LOG END ---
(!Proceed with CAUTION!)
"Come visit the Dark Woods Circus!"
You handed people the pamphlets, your smile never leaving your face. While people could not see what was under the fabric covering your skin, you could feel your back throbbing with each second.
The rose sewn onto your face never withered but you could feel your sanity did. You could feel your guts dissolving all the meat you ate, they were no longer upset about the change of food. They were generous enough to share a rather large portion of it although they tend to bite you randomly.
The pair of Ace occasionally showed you tricks on how to fly while their hands roamed all over your skin.
The siren would sing for you while they felt their skin against yours.
The tall performers would also teach you how to twirl with them, although it truly was a shame they couldn't dance with you, perhaps just yet.
------
Pair of Ace : Lyney and Lynette, Lucy-Lucius
All-Eating Beast: Dottore and Collei, Childe, Sampo, Killeon and Dorothy
Deranged Siren: Columbina, Venti, Jingyuan, Blade (sorry not sorry), Mysrymie
Tall Performers: Diluc and Jean, March and Danheng, 03 and 004
Master: Arlecchino, Pierro, Tsaritsa, Neuvillette, Unknown God, Zhongli, Kafka, ???
(Platonic, sharing, or not depends on you)
--- After notes
Lump of meat = Rotting meat or human flesh
Siren = Leg-less, immobile
Pair of Ace = 1 shared body
Tall Performers = man-made legs
Reader = clipped dove
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morose-melodies · 8 days
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i need dottore,tartaglia,pantalone and capitano(those were in my mind for a while and its killing me) with a reader who always tries to escape.using different tactics each time but always ends up failing.and one day,the reader hads enough and snaps "if you didnt take away and acted like a normal person from the start,i could have loved you"
İf you dont want to or dont feel like writing,thats ok👍
failing attempts | various! yandere! harbingers x reader
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CAPITANO
this was escape attempt five.
you truly were optimistic, but capitano wouldn't let you leave him so easily.
your escape attempts seemed to be getting more and more desperate and, therefore, more dangerous to you.
you had attempted to jump out of a window the night before, just as he was arriving home from a mission. the sheer terror he felt as he watched you lean out of the second-floor window was insurmountable.
now, not only was the front door locked shut from the outside, but the windows were now barricaded too. you were a danger to yourself.
and all capitano ever wanted was for you to be safe and with him. was that too much to ask for? was that so terribly wrong of him?
the captain didn't want to take extreme measures to keep you home; he didn't want to lock you in a room, nor did he want to tie you down. he wasn't the sort. He just wanted you to stay without any excessive force.
but you were pushing him into a corner.
this morning, you had darted out of the backdoor, still in your pajamas and without shoes, into the cold.
you didn't make it far at all. you had barely made it over the garden fence, and you were stumbling now.
the captain... sighed as he followed after you. it wasn't an extreme chase; you hadn't even tried to fight back as usual when he caught you; you just stumbled on about something incomprehensible as he wrapped you up into his coat and lifted you into his arms.
"that was terribly immature of you," looking down at you, the captain felt sorry for you, "I would like it if you would stay home but if you plan on leaving, please do wear proper clothing next time. i can not bear the thought of you dying out in the cold."
"if you didn't take me away," at this point, perhaps death was better than being stuck with him, "and if you acted like a normal person," but, you wanted to go home - you wanted to be with your family, "I could've loved you."
capitano's mind blanked. he had given you a chance to come with him freely; he had been kind to you, so were you not lying?
it didn't matter now, did it? "(y/n), you do understand you've caused all this trouble, correct? should you have been a bit more understanding, you wouldn't be in this situation. i love you. Is that not obvious? i only want to see you thrive and to be happy."
he was at the point of no return; he could only go backward from here.
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DOTTORE
to take time out of dottore's day, to make him leave the manor to come find you for what seemed like the millionth time - he was admittedly quite frustrated with you.
he found you hanging from the gate, your coat caught on the spike of it.
he grinned - this was a funny sight, but, at the same time, it wasn't funny at all. he was actually very disappointed in you.
dottore approached the gate, standing behind you, "tell me just how long have you been hanging here for?"
your nose was running, and you looked absolutely defeated. when you don't reply, dottore clicks his tongue, shaking his head, "Would your life not be simpler if you just accepted your situation? This is such a pitiful sight, (y/n)."
dottore unlocked the gate and walked outside of him, and he helped you down and brushed off the snow that piled on your coat.
"let's go, (y/n)," dottore grabbed your forearm and prepared to pull you back towards the manor, "I've had enough of your antics - perhaps a night or two in the basement would do you well."
"no-" you tugged back, attempting to free your arm from his grip, "stop it! you make me s-so sick! just let me go!"
"(y/n), please. you've done nothing be give me grief," dottore sighed, tugging you along with him, "I don't understand why you feel that being stubborn will get you anywhere."
"you... don't understand?" you grumbled, digging your feet into the snow, trying to pull your weight, trying to stop dottore from getting you back inside, "you're kidding me! i hate you! You're disgusting and unlovable!"
"(y/n), lower your voice - I'm exhausted and you're giving me a migraine," dottore sighed, stopping and getting a better hold on your arm before tugging you along once more.
"if you have yet to notice, I'm quite content with just having you near. i don't exactly need your love to make me feel any better than i do now. hm, that's the sort of effect you have on me."
you went quiet and dottore assumed you had worn yourself out. he brought you inside and sat you down in front of the fireplace, his hand rubbing circles on your shoulder.
"I could've loved you... maybe if you hadn't taken me away..." you trailed off, holding your hands in front of the fire. Why did he continue to act as if he cared for you? "maybe, um, if you were normal, I could've loved you."
dottore smiled at you, though you couldn't see it, "whether you love me or not is trivial - i have you, (y/n), and that's what I need. you, (y/n), you're all I need."
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PANTALONE
pantalone was above getting dirty.
it was nothing personal. he'd do just about anything else for you! he just couldn't imagine himself running around late at night trying to find you.
what was the point when he had other fatuus to do such things for him? they have yet to fail him.
so, while you were out, trying to leave pantalone as multiple fatuus' chased after you, pantalone was running you a warm bath and set a pair of clean clothes out for you.
he knew you'd come back filthy. You always did.
he wondered what he could do to keep you home. He wasn't one for forceful methods; he would hate to hurt you. you were his pride and joy.
pantalone would sigh deeply, dipping his hand into the bathwater to make sure it was still warm.
you never wanted anything from pantalone... well, except for that one time, you asked for a can of soup, but then you used it to smash the bathroom window open and jumped out...
that didn't exactly count.
he heard the front door open and knew you were being dragged in now. the guards weren't gentlemen, quite the contrary, in truth.
you always looked so sad and defeated after the caught you.
"oh, (y/n)," pantalone held a hand to his chest as he stood from where he kneeled at the side of the tub, he stepped forward and wanted to embrace you but you were a mess, "you're a mess."
he frowned at you, as the guards released you and shut the bathroom door behind them as they left. "you must be cold, oh dear," his heart ached for you, such a pitiful sight you were.
you were so lucky that he loved you.
he attempted to remove your top, but you tensed, making it hard for him, "do-don't touch me."
"but you're filthy," pantalone reasoned, once again trying to remove your top but you wouldn't budge, "(y/n), I'm doing this because I love you so very much. please, don't make this hard."
"I don't-" you stepped back, shaking your head at him, "I don't want your help. g-get out, just leave."
pantalone's lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at you, "what's the matter? i-i'm not mad at you, not at all. I understand that i must be lacking something-"
"get out! my gosh, wh-what's with you!? just leave!"
"(y/n)..."
"get out! get out! leave!"
"please, calm down. let me help you undress, alright? You're in a bad mood, i get it. That's no excuse to be rude to someone who loves you dearly," pantalone spoke to you as if he were your mother.
he reached forward and tugged off your shirt with extra force; it wasn't much force; it was just in case you were prepared to tense up again!
"there we go," pantalone cooed as he eased you into the warm bath. he washed your hair for you, making sure to scrub extra hard to get the muck out of your hair.
it was, in a way, soothing...
if only...
"if you hadn't... taken me away and, um," you sniffled, raising your hand to wipe at your nose, "if you were normal... i could've loved you."
instead of offending, that pleased pantalone. what he was hearing was 'you liked him for who he was' and there was nothing better than hearing that.
hm, if only he hadn't taken you away.
"that is the kindest thing you've ever said to me," pantalone smiled, "thank you, (y/n)."
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CHILDE
it was a sort of game to childe at this point.
how many times could you attempt to escape this week? how many times would you curse him to hell? how many times would you glare at him today?
he had to find humor in it, or else, he'd lose his mind. after all, there was no easy way to cope with the love of his life hating his guts.
in truth, he had been a bit overbearing the past few days - there was a snowstorm outside and he couldn't allow you to be out in that sort of weather alone.
so, as he stared out the window, looking at the rapidly falling snow, all he could think about was if only something was different. perhaps if the two of you were childhood sweethearts, maybe if the two of you had met before he fell into the abyss, or maybe if the two of you were neighbors.
he, at one point, had gotten so desperate to keep you home that he bent to your will - anything you asked, he did. you never really asked much of him, though...
well, unless telling him to go away was a question.
he was so busy thinking of all the "what ifs" that he didn't notice you running past the window and into the snowy woods.
well, he did, but it just didn't click for him at the moment.
and when it did click? he was out the door, tugging his coat on, not even bothering to shut it behind himself.
"c'mon, (y/n), now is not the time for this!" he called out, watching as you ran around a tree and seemingly "disappeared."
he knew you too well. you expected him to run around the tree to look for you, but he wouldn't; he watched as you emerged from the other side of the tree and pulled you into his open arms.
you can't use the same trick twice on him.
he held you against his chest - he didn't mind that you were nudging at his chest, trying to get away from him. "c'mon, it's pretty cold out here. I'll make you tea when we get back inside."
"no! im not going back!" you nudged harder at his chest, trying to get out of his hold.
"I said we're going back in. we really need to talk ab-"
"there's nothing to talk about! you're not normal and i won't love you!"
he thought had heard it all from you, so, hearing this wasn't anything new, but, what was new was hearing you say:
"if you wanted me to love you, maybe you should've been normal," you paused, and childe's hold on you loosened, his arms going slack at his sides and he looked down at you, "if you didn't take me away... and maybe if you acted like a normal person from the start-"
once again, you paused and took a step back away from him. childe didn't want to hear what you were going to say, even as he imagined what you might say, his chest ached... he wouldn't be able to handle it, "(y/n), let's just go in, okay? i don't want to hear it from you."
"- i could've loved you."
oh, it hurt so badly.
childe tried so hard to be unbothered, so, why was he so hurt from hearing this? he loved you, and he's tried everything to make you understand just how much he loved you, and now you say that you'll never love him.
it hurt, of course, but he's come so far.
childe strongly believes that people can change, anyway. so, he'd keep trying his absolute hardest for you until you buckled and confessed that you loved him back.
but, in the meantime...
"you can still love me," he said, with a weak smile, "I've been good to you, (y/n) and I think I deserve some credit for being so patient, right?"
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tartagliaxx · 2 years
Text
。VENUS IN YOUR LOVE
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━━ INCLUDES: il capitano, il dottore, scaramouche, pantalone, tartaglia
━━ SUMMARY: he makes you dizzy. he makes you crave. he makes you lose yourself in the desire to be swallowed by the immense heat and the blinding light of his love; or a snippet of what to expect when involved in a romantic relationship with the characters.
━━ CONTAINS: established relationships, highly suggestive themes, making out, usage of terms of endearment (none gender specific), innocent nudity (il capitano), size differences, dottore and his experiments, power imbalance (il dottore, pantalone, scaramouche), potentially ooc characters, toxic relationships?, the harbingers and everything they stand for
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。IL CAPITANO — “ the captain | number ??? ”
Natlan was a very humid place, a direct opposite of Snezhnaya where the cold seeps into your bones until you, yourself, become nothing but cold. Still, he was first and foremost a warrior, and weather conditions are the least of a warrior’s concerns. Such things can be braved through and should you be unable, then that merely meant that you are undeserving of standing under the azure banner of Her most noble Majesty, the Tsaritsa. You are, therefore, not a warrior but a fool that marches towards your death while wearing a warrior’s skin, and the Captain had no respect for such people. Perhaps that is why he had not spared a single glance to the direction of his soldier that lie fainted on the ground. Instead, he had looked towards the others who hesitated between helping their comrade and risking the wrath of the displeased Harbinger or leaving them to die under the glare of the sun despite the guilt that was likely to consume them.
“Burdensome.” He had finally uttered after a long and tense silence. “Leave them or help them. It matters not to me.”
With that, the Harbinger walks away, the haunting click and clang of his armor sending shivers down the spines of his troop as they scurried to take the fainted Fatuus to the shade. Capitano was heading to the east of the encampment, the direction of his private tent where he had asked you to wait. Normally, he’d think twice before letting you tag along to his endeavors but his strange attachment wound up clouding his judgment. No matter… In war, the victors always had their share of spoils and you, his darling, are his prize. None who dare receive his wrath would lay a hand on you — not like he’d let anyone near you in the first place.
As he entered the tent, he anticipated your smaller form to leap into his embrace just as you had done the other times. To his surprise, his hidden gaze caught sight of you sweating, eyes droopy as you fan yourself with a stack of papers you found lying around. You had long since removed your coat, leaving you only in the cotton innerwear he had so generously gifted you. With a quiet call of your name, you turned your head slightly as you sent your lover a weak smile.
“Welcome back, my love. Is everything faring well outside?”
The Captain made no move to answer you, instead pulling your weak form towards him as he wiped your face gently. His touch was so careful that you barely felt the touch of the towel on your heated skin, “How do you feel?”
“Hot,” you whispered back, leaning into his body. His armor placated your feverish self slightly whilst his hold made you lose the edge you donned earlier, “Perhaps I never should’ve underestimated the fierceness of Natlan.”
An amused huff left him, or you supposed it was one as he stood up from his crouched position. With one arm around the plush of your thighs, he lifted you along just as he had done many times before. His strength has always struck wonder in you, you mused as your eyes fluttered closed, trusting him wholly to take you wherever. Without noticing, you had dozed off and you were only aroused once more when you feel the humid air brushing against your bare skin and then suddenly, a refreshing cool that revitalizes your energy.
“This should cool you down,” he uttered as he watched you dip further into the tub. A sense of satisfaction fills his dark heart when you suddenly smiled at him brightly, shyly muttering a word of gratitude for his kind act. You reach out for his hand and he takes it. He always does.
For this was how Capitano was with you. He was not the respected man who had unmercifully claimed uncountable victories in the name of vengeance and you, one of his disposable men. No, you are his treasure — his lover. Your fragility was endearing and something he fought to preserve. You are pure and unblemished, a reminder of home as you fall into his arms like a precious snowflake: his inamorata, the reason he fights.
“Eyes,” he tells you and you eagerly close them as you hear the clanking of metal that overwhelms you not with dread but with adoration. Not even a second later, your body shivers in delight as you feel a hand grip your chin firmly but not harshly — no, never. You are too precious for that. You wait for a second but nothing came and you knew that he was once again admiring you despite your impatience. A gloved knuckle traces over your cheekbone and you are light; a mere feather in the wind compared to his might.
You speak his name, gently as if you are wary of breaking the moment, but soon, the water moves along with your body as he tugs you into him for a much-awaited kiss. That is if you can call whatever you were blessed with a kiss. The Harbinger was a warrior and warriors spare nothing in their conquests. It made sense that you, at the receiving end of his attention, were spared nothing. He devoured your existence until only the willingness to keep giving him your entirety remained. As his tongue clashes with yours, your treacherous heart craves more and more of his taste. He’s addicting, you sigh out as he pulls back to nibble at your lip, pulling at it slightly before diving back in with renewed fervor. The Captain was fire and he burns his way into you as his large hands squeezed your flesh in raw desire. You’d have him engrave himself to you if he could — until you’re nothing but an extension of him and his will. He would never though. He'd sooner cut his arms off himself than lay a finger on you. It makes you smile, giddy even. The soft tickle of his breath fans your lips and you inch closer, arms gripping his forearms for leverage as you breathe him in.
Sooner than you’d like, he parts from you, and the thumb that flies to play with the string that remains to connect you two makes you think that he too enjoys this game of carnal conquest to the point of wishing to prolong it forever. The familiar clicking came again and you take the small tap he gave you as a sign to welcome the world once more. When you open your eyes, he was already covered by his armor. The only proof of his actions prior was yourself. Need-glazed eyes that lay lidded and wet lips that are parted for each puff of breath. Had this not been a common occurrence between the both of you, you would’ve felt ashamed at how debauched you looked from a mere kiss. He has always been different — so capable of giving rise to foreign feelings in you. The heat in your cheeks and the heavy beating of your heart are proof of that and you were sure you could do anything to keep receiving from him. Who else could reduce you to someone so, so lovestruck that it prompts even a chuckle out of a usually composed man?
“Take your time with your bath. I will make sure no one intrudes on us.”
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。IL DOTTORE — “ the doctor | number two ”
“Darling,” he calls for you and you immediately look up from your book to gaze in his direction. You don’t move but you do stifle a sigh as he continues with nothing. You see, he has gained a rather annoying habit of adoringly watching you stare at him eagerly whenever he calls. He likens you to an obedient puppy and you weren’t quite sure what to make of it yet. Perhaps the ever-growing frown on your face caught his attention because his lips parted in a wide grin, showing off his sharp, pearly teeth as he patted his lap invitingly, “come over, please.”
You knew better than to take his words as a request you had a say in.
When you were close enough, an arm wrapped around your waist to tug you into him rather unceremoniously. You barely caught yourself from falling into him, hands securely on his broad shoulders and knees on either side of his thighs as he leaned back to admire the view. Before you could bark a complaint, the Doctor cheekily moved his other hand to your neck, grazing a thumb across your sensitive spot before resting it by the juncture of your shoulder, “Hello there. I have a need for your assistance.”
“How may I help you, Doctor?” You reply, breathier than you would’ve preferred and glaringly flustered much to your lover’s delight — one he made no move to hide whatsoever.
“I have an experiment to complete today and I’d like you to take note of my observations. You’ll help me, won’t you?”
The Harbinger let his hand fall from your neck to the small of your back, adjusting his position so his lips were a breath away from yours. You swallow, nodding but forgetting your position so each bob of your head had your lips brushing against his. It’s embarrassing to feel even more heated from such an innocent act.
“Lovely! You’re so precious, truly. That’s why you’re my favorite.”
As if giving a reward or better yet, a treat, for your satisfactory response, the Doctor succumbs to your needy gaze, pressing his lips into yours into a messy kiss. He tilts his head to reach you deeper, and you respond in kind, arching your back to be closer to him. He tastes faintly of alcohol — the strong kind and the realization that there was never an “enough” came to you like a life-changing discovery. You wanted to be so, so close to him that you break the laws of the world and become one with him down to the smallest atom. You want to keep carding your fingers through the silken strands of his hair; keep consuming the minute pain that come with the crescents he digs into your flesh. You want him — need him even in this world already filled with such madness.
The Doctor moves away from your lips, ignoring your whine to relish the way you swallow harshly when he trails a finger down the slope of your neck. He can’t help the way he’s so hyper-fixated on it. It’s beautiful, he thinks, and even more so, the vulnerability it carries and the way a mere touch would leave you with your legs weak. The devilish smile he wore did not go unnoticed but as if sensing your question, the Doctor moves his head like a predator pouncing on prey. A moan spills out of your lips as he sucked on the delicate part of your flesh, proudly looking at the darkening bruise he left when he finished. Gloved fingers trace over it lightly and if you didn't know any better, lovingly. Warmth rushes to your cheeks, almost scalding you as you instinctively straightened your posture. His sharp gaze is on you again. You know it. You feel it even when his eyes are covered by that mask.
“A gift for you, darling, for being such an obedient pet.” A shaky breath leaves your lips and your unfocused eyes followed his hands as he motioned for someone to come closer, “Beta will take care of you for the day. Be good.”
“Is it truly wise to let them partake in the experiment, Prime?” A more high-pitched version of the voice of your lover — similarly much younger — resounded in the room. Though his words were blunt, you sensed no animosity in them.
“I’d love to deal with this myself but Regrator’s request is not one to be left ignored for long. Besides, our darling here knows better than to doze off while doing something important, isn’t that right?”
You nod mindlessly, withdrawing from Prime’s grip to stand beside Beta who had been watching the whole exchange curiously, “If that is your decision, then I won’t question you further. You should know what you’re doing.”
The older segment merely huffed in amusement before waving you off, though, that is not without a final warning towards his younger segment.
“Not to worry.” he grins in reply, similar but rather crazed as his gaze turns to you. “The absolute pursuit for knowledge is not our only similarity.”
The nerves that swelled in you quickly quieted down when Beta reaches down to clasp your hands, entangling them before pressing a lingering kiss on the back of yours. It was innocent enough, if not for the familiar cloud in his exposed eye. The thought of what you cannot comprehend, but anticipate regardless, brings a small shiver down your spine. Whether that is out of excitement or fear is a question you cannot quite answer in your current state of mind.
Prime raises a brow before laughing though the deadly glint in his eyes did not go unnoticed by his younger counterpart, “How curious, indeed. I’ll allow such a ludicrous fantasy but learn your place. I do not like sharing what is mine.”
When you feel his gaze on your skin again, you swiftly look down in fear of how you’ll react. His eyes always left you feeling uneasy — like he could decipher every secret you hold no matter how hard you try to hide them. How deep your affection for the madman runs, for example, is a secret you’d rather be left unsaid. At least for the time being when you are unsure of how far you’ve fallen from sanity yourself.
“Fascinating how love runs you mad,” Dottore mutters before grinning once more, ego practically oozing off his figure as he leans back into his chair, “Off you go now, darling. We shall continue our exchange later.”
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。PANTALONE — “ regrator | number nine ”
Regrator was a generous man if you were one of those he favors.
One stray gaze is all it takes for him to wave his hand, adorned with silver rings that glint under the afternoon sun. Albeit wordless, the merchant immediately scampered away, hands clumsily packing the object in haste as if he had a blade pressed against his neck. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to being spoiled like this. Subconsciously, your hand reached out for his luxury fur coat, gripping it to catch his attention. Your hold was weak; both shy and wary, knowing full well that the fabric likely costs more than your entire existence.
The Harbinger averts his piercing gaze from the merchant and down to you, his empty smile shifting into something softer as he caught sight of your fumbling form, “What is it, my dear?”
“Thank you for being so generous, milord.”
Yes, Regrator was a most generous man for his darling and he had taught you very well to never decline the kindness he seldom spares. He’d much rather receive your thanks and your most precious gaze — bashful and awe-filled. He tilts your head with his fingers, appreciating the heat that seeps through his leather gloves.
“Of course, anything for you. But then,” his eyes crack open to peer at you slyly. Oh, how lovely you are… “what do we do again in this situation?”
Cued, you take his wrist in your hand as leverage before standing on your toes to press a kiss on his cheeks. Gloss stains the spot you touched and as you moved to swipe it off, the Ninth turns his face to press a kiss just above where your pulse beats. Your body trembles at his attention, and when you tried to take a step back to regain your composure, Pantalone immediately catches you by the waist. He leans closer, smile unchanging even as his breath brushed over your cheeks.
“Do not stray too far away from me, dearest. It’s rather cold outside.” A noise of acknowledgment escapes your lips as you glance back at the merchant who was silently gawking at you two with his hand outstretched. “Ah, yes. Guards—”
One of the many Fatuus under him soundlessly took his newest purchase, tossing Mora carelessly into the merchant who scrambled to pick it up from the snow-dusted street of Snezhnaya. Some foreign emotion swells beneath your ribs as you stare at the man kneeling before you. Right, beside the Ninth Harbinger, the rest of the world seems just a little short of being completely beneath you. He had a way of making everyone feel as if they are unworthy of his presence. In every word, in every breath, in every act, Pantalone radiates an aura so untouchable and glorious that even the shadow he casts over you makes you feel like power flows in your veins more eminently than even the blood that fuels your life.
“Shall we go then? We’ll be late for our appointment.”
And you rejoice in it. You’d place his pedestal above the gods if it’s what it takes to continue basking under the heat of his ambition. You’d follow him to hell and back if it meant that you can continue to bear witness to his incomparable splendor. This maddening pursuit is what makes you take his hand in yours, letting him lead you to the finest clothesmaker in the nation.
“Lord Harbinger! Please, take a seat here while I prepare drinks for you and your guest!”
It takes but a tug before his coat is undone and passed to one of his men and but a stride before he is sat majestically on the soft, red couch, one leg over the other as he peers over you through the edges of his glasses, “Go on then, dear. Shop to your heart’s delight.”
Admiration makes your eyes gloss over as you follow one of the shop assistants into the changing room. Sending one last glance towards his casual form, only one thought races in your mind: he’s beautiful. The skin-tight suit moves with each flex of his muscle while his dark hair pools along his shoulders like the waterfalls of Fontaine. He’s beautiful and he knows it, just as he knows you’ve been eyeing him as you disappear behind the curtain. It fills the Ninth with pride and adoration, as well as — he chuckles under his breath — the sensual desire to bring you to your tears as you approach nirvana. He was greedy, after all, and his greed shows most when it comes to the most glorious sight he has set his eyes on.
The thing about the Harbinger is that he knows what he wants and he quite finds violets and blues quite ravishing on your body. The need to please him fills you like your own greed as you immediately ask to see all such clothing. He’s got you quite comfortably dancing in his palm and the electricity that shakes your heart proves that there’s no place you’d rather be.
The clock ticks and with each second, Regrator’s finger taps mindlessly on the armchair. He exhales slowly, finding that he quite likes this and that he should make a habit out of taking you out to buy out shops more often. He has done his share of shopping, idly turning the pages of a catalog as he points here and there for the shop owner to take note of. Diamonds, pearls, and his favorite, Alexandrite — he spared nothing as he chose pieces of jewelry to add to both yours and his collection. The mere thought had him reeling in thinly veiled excitement.
His attention snaps to you as soon as he heard footsteps approach. Immediately, his smirk widens and you instinctively retreat to yourself as you feel his eyes trace over every inch of your frame, “You look ravishing, doll.”
You sent him a wobbly smile in reply.
“Won’t you give me a twirl?” Obediently, you did as told. Your embarrassment grows as you hear Pantalone mutter sweet compliments under his breath, “Truly my most prized jewel. Come here for me.”
For some reason, each step toward him felt like a step toward your demise. Then again, if this is what demise feels like, you’d gladly welcome it with open arms. Regrator makes you sit in between his leg, hand gripping both of your cheeks before catching your puckered lips into his own. The aggression was new — though not unwanted because that you drank all up. So close, you could smell the dizzying scent of his perfume. It was something along the lines of ambroxan and bergamot, you think as he slid his hand up your thigh. Teeth clashing, love crazy, and so, wonderfully messy. Pantalone’s desire washes over you like an ocean wave and sends you crashing down into the deepest depths of your mind. He’s your obsession and when he leaves your lips to insert a new ring on your finger, vibrant color matching the deep hue of your blouse, you seek him out once again with a rekindled need to drink up every last drop of him.
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。SCARAMOUCHE — “ the balladeer | number six ”
The Balladeer had always been a horrible liar, you muse to yourself, as you sneakily eyed him from your corner in his office. Sure, he can fix his expression on a whim — a perfect face accentuating his words that seemed kind enough at first glance. Though perhaps, one of the rewards of being able to worm your way into his empty heart was noticing how his eyes are too expressive for his own good. Maybe that’s why he chooses to crinkle them shut whenever he smiles or why he’s so quick to avert his gaze when you peered deep into his soul after each profession of love. He's such a bad liar or maybe, you’ve just learned to read him too well.
Even now as he busied himself with signing some paperwork Lord Pierro required, he was so easy to read. His fingers tapped rapidly into his desk and his eyes fleeted from his work to the corner of his table. It wouldn’t take long before he snaps and not even a minute later — just as you anticipated, his gaze soon zeroed into you, mouth forming a snarl that would have any regular Fatuus running away with their tail in between their legs.
“Will you stop gawking at me like some kind of cretin?!”
“Why?” You smirk in reply, completely unbothered by his insults and crossing your legs as you spot the beginnings of a blush on his skin. “Do I make you nervous, Lord Harbinger?”
“Nervous? Hah, are you hearing yourself? Why would I be nervous at the sight of you?”
You stood up then, footsteps loud and clear as you approach him from his place by his desk. You leaned closer, delighting in the fact that Scaramouche instinctively retreated farther into his chair to place some distance between you two. “Why don’t you tell me, Scaramouche? Maybe this time you’d be willing to admit how far you’ve fallen for me?”
“Shut up.”
And yet despite his glare, the Harbinger made no move to push you away. If anything, he seemed as if he was expecting something as he gulped nervously, eyes flickering from your mischievous eyes and down to where your most enticing lips remained frozen into an innocent grin. You knew what he was thinking. He was so easy to read, after all. He wanted to be kissed senseless and perhaps, that was your fault. After all, this is far from being the first time such a conversation happened, and all the other times, you always made sure to fix his attitude by shutting him up in the most effective way you knew.
“Hm… You’re really so cute, honey,” you laugh as you move closer to him, nails digging into his files as you watched his eyes flutter close, “but you’re so much cuter when you try to bite me.”
With that, you abruptly pulled away, snickering when Scaramouche’s eyes blow wide open the moment he heard you take a step back, “You-! What do you think you’re playing at?!”
“I don’t know, what did you want from me? If you tell me, I’d happily give it to you. You have me so weak, after all...”
The Sixth doesn't reply, only glaring at you fiercely as his blush grew brighter. You could see the way his fingers dug into his palm and for a moment, you wondered if you teased him too much this time. Before you could utter a word of concern, you gasped as a pale hand clutched your collar and tugged you harshly forward. You were about to curse Scaramouche when he suddenly crashed his lips into yours, eliciting a small squeak from you before you relax into his hold naturally.
Why would the Balladeer ever be gentle? His grip on your clothes was tight, making sure you won’t pull away as he took what it was that he desires. He always gets what he wants and right now, he wants the aftertaste of the tea he brewed to quench the thirst that leaves a gaping void in his insides. That’s why he didn’t think twice before leaning even more forward into his desk, spare palm firmly pressed against the polished, wooden frame, body bending, and mind reeling at the way your hands fell from his hair to his nape. Do you always have to be intoxicating? His eyes welled up from feeling so overwhelmed yet wanting more, more, more and more until he's positive that you've broken him down completely. He parts his lips, letting your tongue trace around his mouth as if claiming territory that you should know, without saying, is yours. Ironically, his lips are soft and they glide along yours like silk — so much so that you can barely bring yourself to leave.
A groan escapes his lips as you pull on his hair, exposing his bare skin to you. “Pretty boy… This time, will you tell me what you want?”
Your blown-out eyes make him release a shaky breath, “You… I want your love.”
The smile that decorated your face was involuntary and you moved to massage his scalp that you had previously been cruel on. Peppering kisses on his cheek, you adored the way Scaramouche tried to subtly nuzzle into the hand you cupped his face with.
“What’s with that request?” You finally replied as you met his forehead with yours. “It’s not smart to ask for something you already have.”
“All of it,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze but voicing no complaint when you gently turned his face back to yours.
“All of it?”
He huffs, faking the haughty demeanor he always had but you knew. His hopeful eyes cannot hide a single thing from you, especially not when he closes the distance between you two again. “Yeah… From now on, only look at me. Don’t leave me, not even for a second.”
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。TARTAGLIA — “ childe | number eleven ”
Tartaglia’s youth oozes into his love — into the way he would giggle as he takes you in his strong arms, lifting you up before twirling you around, and into the way he would excitedly present you with matching articles for you to wear. He never fails to warm you up with innocent bliss even when you’re play wrestling with him for the last piece of candy. He's the purest sense of joy you’ve ever had the pleasure of possessing and if you could ever share even a fragment of how you make him feel, you’d do it in a heartbeat. That’s how you ended up here: hiding behind his couch in between his younger siblings like you were once again seven and buzzing with the childish exuberance stolen from you by adulthood.
It had not been easy hiding your exploits from the sharp eyes of your lover. He was trained to spot every minute detail and you don’t claim yourself to be the most careful secret holder out there. By some miracle (and partly because he was often out doing business), you were able to hide the surprise from him. It was July 20 and you both were lucky enough to be assigned to be on standby in your home country for his birthday.
You snap out of your thoughts when the door creaks open and the heavy footsteps of his boot-clad feet permeated the air, “Ma? Pa? Are you home?”
Tartaglia — or Ajax as he prefers to be called inside the four corners of his residence mumbles something about how they were all probably out fishing as he dusted off the snow in his hair. Beside you, Teucer stifled a giggle as he found the irony in his words to be quite entertaining. You turned your gaze towards his mother who nodded as a signal.
“1,” You count under your breath as you repositioned the confetti in your hands. For the sake of everyone’s safety, you advised against the ones that make a loud, popping sound and all his older siblings agreed solemnly, “2, 3!”
“Happy Birthday!”
Ajax flinched in surprise, fingers nearly summoning his bow before he recognized your warm smile. With that, the sudden tension in his body was released and he laughed loudly, catching his younger brother in his arms when he ran up to him, “Woah there! Who would have ever guessed that you’d all sneak behind my back like that?”
“You’re welcome, brother,” Tonia rolls her eyes teasingly as she approached with a birthday cake that his mother baked herself.
“Yeah, yeah… Thank you very much lil’ sis. Your kindness will not remain unpaid.”
You snort as your lover faux curtsied, dodging the halfhearted slap of his equally amused sister. A cough made you turn your head to your left, meeting the weary eyes of his father who muttered his thanks for looking after his son.
“It’s no trouble at all,” you turn your gaze just in time to meet his curious one, “I’m just trying to give him what he always deserved and more.”
His older brother who was listening in made a joke of not knowing how his annoying little brother managed to catch someone like you but before you could reply, a pair of familiar arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his chest, “Not speaking ill of the birthday boy, I hope?”
“Nothing new now, isn't it?”
His family greeted him one by one before they left to give you some space under the guise of helping arrange the dinner spread. His warm breath caressed the side of your neck as he hummed happily, swaying you side to side by the beat of his own making. By the chorus, he twirls you around before pulling you back in and grinning at the way you automatically looped your arms around his neck.
“Happy Birthday, baby,” you murmur before pressing a quick peck on his lips.
“Mhmm…” Ajax pulls you impossibly closer by the waist as he grins, eyes bright and youthful now that he had you in his embrace, “So this is why you’ve been acting weirdly this past week?”
“You noticed?”
He laughs lightly at that, pulling back an arm just to flick your forehead, “Baby, it’s impossible not to notice every single thing about you.”
“Damn, you’re so in love with me.”
You lean closer and Ajax, always so willing to be pulled into everything about you, follows in kind with a proud smirk. “Damn right I am.”
Tartaglia’s youth oozes into his love — into the way his deep kisses are never just passionate but also fun. He giggles under his breath like a young teenager in love, fingers drawing shapes on your bare skin as he slides his hand innocently under your shirt. His hands are warm, you realize, and goosebumps follow the trail of his touch without any effort. You could feel the curve of his smile against your own at this, and joy bubbles in your heart and into your throat until you can’t help but whisper an “I love you” as you part briefly for air.
“I love you,” he says back, hand withdrawing from your back to your head as he tugs you closer into him, “so much.”
Ajax dips back in, abandoning the gentleness he usually reserves for you. Instead, he embraces the lust in him — the part that craves the mess and the victory that lies after complete domination. He fights you for power, ignoring the needy whimpers that escaped you as you succumb to your faith. All he does is pull you closer and closer until close loses its meaning and you’re all but one and the same. The force that comes from his heady sigh sends you stepping back but he follows — he chases after you until you’re backed and sat on the sofa’s backrest. Ajax wastes no time slotting himself in between your legs as you scramble to get a grip.
“Well, babe…” He grins with a near-crazed expression. His chest rises up and down rapidly as he tried to chase the breath he lost in your exchange, “You better hope you’re ready to take every drop of my love tonight.”
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mayullla · 1 year
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Hi!! I really love your blog and writing. Can i request ☘️, 🦋 Dottore (platonic yandere) Thank you!
Title: Child's Confusion
Character(s): Il Dottore (Genshin Impact)
Summary: A sickly child you lived in Dottore's lab not knowing the secrets hidden within the place and with the doctor himself.
Warnings/tags: Platonic yandere, Fem!reader (child!reader, sick!reader), yandere, possessive, manipulation, experimentation, physical torture(?), emotional torture(?)
Note: Dottore is a warning all by himself....
[ - A little present~! Event - Closed - ]
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In your young mind, you never really understood this man who had taken you in. 'Interesting' he finds you when you were alone in the dark with no place to go back to when he found you, having heard that you have this unknown illness that no doctor could cure. Alone by yourself, you reached out to him, taking his hand.
You lived in the trapped in the lab building after that...
You watch his face for reactions, any tells that told you what his mood was. Sometimes, it was how the doctor frowns every single minute... second... sometimes how he smiles always.
Sometimes he was a bit kinder to you, sometimes not really...
Sometimes, he was more forgiving. Sometimes, he was not. You didn't understand when he told you to head to the laboratory tomorrow night yesterday... and then this morning, he told you to go to another lab tonight. You were confused. You didn't know what to do because no matter what you did, you have broken a promise... an order...
You covered your arms, shielding them from the world, covering your stomach and curling your toes as you looked at the floor scared. This Dottore was scarier and crueler in your eyes. He took your hand before you could even whisper a word, pulling it roughly as he took you to a lab that was not where he told you to go. 
Your own cries were painful to your ears, a ringing, and the knife's reflection made you freeze in fear. He never spoke a single comforting word, not once. Sometimes he did, maybe when he was in the mood, sometimes your sniffles would be met with sighs and words that called you pathetic, sometimes nothing at all. Today through you had to listen to it tell you that you should be grateful that he took you in and that you shouldn't continue to disobey his orders like this.
Your arm held by his was sore in pain. The man had found you as you were heading to another lab that you have been told by him to go to. His mumbles you could hear clearly so sensitive to his voice and emotions. 
“Where are you going? I told you to go to the lab 1034. What are you doing on the opposite side of the building.” His voice was threatening to you, annoyed and frustrated that you disobeyed his orders. His hold on your arm was tight. His legs were too long, and you forced yourself to run unless you wanted to trip and fall and cause even more anger.
The injections were painful, your eyes in tears, as you let the man inject you with what he told you was potentially medicine that could heal you. You didn't want this, this pain. It was too painful as you tugged in your restraints. But he didn't let you go, his words hostile and demeaning he continued to watch and look for side effects from the medicine that he created for you. You felt nothing but a fish struggling to live in dry land under her gaze.
You were scared of the stare of the mask, but it was better than his real eyes. Red and glowing as they stared at you, a monster. You knew yet at the same time didn't understand that he was trying to save you when all he gave you was pain. His personality kept on changing, and so was his kindness. But you didn't know... you would probably never know.
He was a monster that grew attached to you. He had become used to your small little self always being somewhere near him. The small light pats on the floor caused by your feet as you were allowed to explore the building but never outside or certain areas unless you were accompanied by a fatui or his permission. There was this one time when you went out and stayed outside for hours lost as no one was keeping you in check, only for him to find you shivering in a corner of the woods, hands cold. You weren't allowed out as often anymore.
The first time he meet you he was interested in this new sickness you had that no doctor was able to figure out, it was his first time too but while most gave up he offered you a deal, that it might be painful, that he does even know if you would heal, but he would try yet. He would take all the knowledge in helping you and turn it into another weapon, he didn't care for your life. 
Yet when did he start to...
But in the end, he was still a monster, and that was something that would not change.
That his affection and care would look nothing but a cruel entertainment to your pain and sorrow. As he removed the tears from your eyes, the experiment finished for the day he watched the way you flinched. Your eyes shined with tears so obviously with fear and pain in them. He didn't react. Instead, he left you in the room alone. Huffing annoyance as stating that he had much to do.
Truly how funny was it that it was not just one monster that so craved your being that right after another monster would find you with a smile on his face as he asked you why you were not in the room that he told you to be instead here… leaving your mind confused even when you were in so much pain.
“Why are you crying, dear?” You looked up from the floor, eyes widening when you saw Dottore again looking down at you with a smile on his face. You looked at the door and then at him, wondering why he came back when he was busy. You flinched when he raised his hand. Never once did he ever hit you ever since your stay here, yet the experiments he had done left fear in your heart.
Yet instead of the pain you were expecting, your head was touched lightly, ruffling your hair as if comforting you. “It seems that one segment found you first and left you soon after. Are you still in pain?” You looked at him confused at his words, but he made no actions to explain as he gently took you in his arms and carried you away from the lab. “There, there, don't cry, girl. You did a good job handling the pain. Rest now, let's get you something to eat in your room, and then rest.” the doctor told you, looking at you.
You looked at him confused. Why was he being nice to you all of a sudden? His personality shifting again and again was just so confusing to you that you were always on edge. But you nodded quietly. “Doctor, when will I ever get well?” You asked, voice raspy from all your cries, quiet like a whisper as you wonder about your future.
Dottore paused. His steps stopped for a moment before continuing to walk. “You will get well soon, child. After all, I have promised you that I would do my utmost to cure you. It just takes a little more patience.” Dottore didn't look at you but instead in front of him, but to be honest, you weren't too sure when he wore that mask that covered his eyes.
You looked at him, almost doubtfully, yet soon after, there was a small spark of determination and hope in your eyes as well as peace, a belief that he would save you. It was laughable truly.
It wasn't a lie that he wanted to cure you, not only because he cared for this small life that didn't know anything about this world. He was far from this caring man rather than a monster after all but also because he was curious about your sickness... But he wasn't sure what will come after it, he wasn't so sure he would let you go after you have pulled all his heartstrings that he thought he never had and the other segments.
You weren't necessarily special, nothing unique other than your illness. He wasn't even sure why he was like this in the first place, yet here he was.
He will keep you here a little longer after he finally finds a cure but if you were to ever insist that you wished to leave, then don't be surprised when you fall into another illness. Your life was in his hands it was just that you didn't know the extent of it.
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explicitred · 1 year
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Dottore's Experiments
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June 17, Post 13 of the "30 Days Fanfic Event"
Dottore x Male Reader
I TRIED DOING A KISSING SCENE FOR THE FIRST TIME GUYS
(mentions of experiments, kissing scene, almost caught?, dottore on our lap, suggestive??) highest voted in Dottore's Headcanons poll
Mad crazy scientist who involves you in his experiments
Of course, he wouldn’t put you into harmful experiments on purpose to hurt you.
Oh, no. He would take extra precautions and ensure your safety.
But alas, these “experiments” are not exactly what you are thinking.
Pushing you into a chair and straddling your lap, Dottore's hands held onto your shoulders.
“Hm, now what is this ‘experiment’ about, this time?” You inquire, as your hands find their way to his hips. 
He slyly smirked, “Well, why don’t you find out for yourself?”
Dottore took off his mask and quickly smashed his lips against yours. His half-lidded red eyes slowly started forming hearts in them.
He moaned in the kiss, panting afterward for air.
Your hand found itself in his hair, pushing him against you for another round of kissing.
Prodding his lower lip with your tongue, you silently requested him to open his mouth.
Dottore’s lips slightly parted, allowing you access to the inside of a wet cavern.
Just before exploring his mouth, two knocks were heard on the door.
Dottore stood up while you were still sitting, walking to whoever ruined his time with you when it was just getting exciting.
He frowned as he answered the door, clearly unpleasantly displeased and angry.
“What?” Dottore spoke in a harsh tone, causing the Fatui Agent who knocked to be scared.
“U-Uh, sir. T-The Ts-Tsaritsa needs y-you…”
“Scram.”
"Y-Yes!"
The agent quickly fled.
Dottore sighed and began fixing his disheveled hair, “Let's finish this another time, dear.”
hehe:
“What?” Dottore spoke in a harsh tone, causing the Fatui Agent who knocked to be scared.
“U-Uh, sir. T-The Ts-Tsaritsa said th-that she could h-hear you a-all the w-way from t-the basement...”
“Bro, I was trying to f-"
"S-Sorry!"
The agent quickly fled, traumatized.
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b1ancastar · 2 years
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Can I ask you to make a dottore x male reader (or gn reader)? Dottore who feels jealous when he realizes the reader is not in his lab because he's too busy with his experiments and finds the reader in the library with pantalone.
(Oh sorry if my language might be hard to understand, English is not my first language😭)
AHHH Anon you are curing my brainrot of this man. (ur english is better than mine and I'm a native speaker </3)
Library Chills (Dottore X Male/GN Reader)
He knew something was up, watching as the clock hit one. You we're supposed to have been there nearly two hours ago, yet you were nowhere to be found.
Dottore knew that you were supposed to have been there exactly at eleven sharp. He hard went on and gotten a head start on his latest "experiment" and had lost track on both time, and his assistant (y/n). Not many things would make him "angry," but you had promised that you would have been there. It also didn't help that one of his "co-workers" Pantalone had been hanging around you a little too much recently.
Deciding to put a little pause on this latest "experiment" Dottore decided it would be best to send his clones to look for you, and to bring you back, to him, and his lab. Where you belonged.
-
"You know Pantalone, if you wanted to know more about this topic, you easily could've asked someone else for help. After all I do think I'm cutting close on time to get to the lab."
"Oh (y/n), you know I would prefer you're help rather than someone else. And I still will never understand why you insist on being around Dottore and his lab so much, it must be horrible there... Say what about you come work with me for a day."
"Pantalone, we have been over this, I rather be in a lab than having to deal with your world of "banking," that just isn't my place. Being in that lab with Dottore is a lot better than that."
Pantalone let out a long sigh of disappointment. For weeks he had been trying to convince you to take a break from working in a damn lab, to get some fresh air, to let him show you what else is out there, yet you never budged, almost like Dottore programmed you to want nothing to do with the outside world.
He then glanced at the watch on his wrist, he knew it was a little past one, meaning he had at least gotten you to be late to Dottores latest "experiment." Yet he failed to see a clone in the dark corner of the library getting ready to report back to Dottore.
-
Dottore felt something that he hadn't felt in a long time, jealousy. He dismissed the clone that had reported your whereabouts and made his way to the library you were in, with that good for nothing banker.
His footsteps echoed in the halls, anyone who had been standing in his way quickly moved away, not wanting to be in his next big "experiment" Though he wore his mask, it was if the entire nation could feel it get colder.
-
It hadn't taken you long to realize something was wrong, from the smile on Pantalone's face, to the sudden shiver that ran down your spine. You quietly looked up and around for a clock, once you saw the time, any color in your face drained away.
Slowly, you turned around, staring Pantalone, with a gaze colder than ice. Knowing that more than likely Dottore was already on his way to your location.
"Pantalone, what. is. the. time."
"Oh it's 1:45, I guess timed slipped for us both (Y/n), maybe seeing that "doctor" wasn't as important as you made it out to be."
As soon as those words left Pantalone's mouth, the door slammed open. In the doorway stood Dottore. The second most powerful harbinger. His entrance made the library empty, except for Pantalone, you, and himself.
"Ah (y/n), you seem to be late to our meeting by about, three hours now. How about you run along and I'll have a chit chat with our dear friend."
"I..um..yes sir.."
Both men watched as you left the room, as the door closed behind you, they found themselves glaring at each other.
"So, Pantalone, you think it is... amusing to take my dear little assistant away from their work, do you?"
"Well, Dottore, I would say it is rather, amusing to see how anxious they are knowing that they are supposed to be with you. But I must ask... if you're jealous we were spending time together, after all they were just... helping me with this book."
"I suggest you halt yourself from making such, assumptions of (y/n) and I. They are just my little helper... in even that, I know you were attempting to have them relocate to your bank. Which I can assure you, that it will not happen any time soon."
"I suppose, though as much as I would like to... continue this lovely conversation, I must be on my way. After all the banks never stop running."
Dottore watched as Pantalone walked pass him, leaving the book he needed "help with" behind on a table. With a scoff he also left this library, leaving nothing but a chill behind.
-
You had been in the lab, cleaning the mess from Dottore's latest "experiment." Even as the door opened you stayed silent, hoping whatever speech the doctor had planned would be short and sweet.
"You do know (y/n) that Pantalone just wants to take you away from me... from us. Promise me I won't catch you around him again."
"I understand Dottore, I promise it won't happen again."
The end </3 might do a part 2 to include more romance and jealous dottore.
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